Page 24 of Tangled Threads Of Fate

I blinked at the two of them. “An incubus was an option?”Fucking hell.

“You’re having triplets. Three is the magic number in the world of mythos. It stands to reason that it was the babies that put you on the radar, but why?” She looked me dead in the eye,and any trace of mirth left her face. “I’ll make some inquiries, but I know one thing. You shouldn’t ignore the prophecy of an Oracle. I think you need to go to Crete.”

Nate groaned. “I was worried you were going to say that.”

This was all insane. Completely insane.

Packingto travel was surprisingly easy when you only had three sets of clothes that actually fit. In fact, it was all really easy. Nate had insisted on buying the plane tickets, getting first class because he was too tall and I was too pregnant to be stuck back in economy.

When I’d told him I’d pay him back, he’d just rolled his eyes. “I’ve had a thousand lifetimes to accrue money, Wren. I can pay for a couple of flights,” was all he said, shutting down my arguments.

He also didn’t like talking about the fact he was some kind of God. Enough to allude to the fact he was really old, but not enough that I could do any decent research.

Luckily, I still had a passport from the time I took my senior year trip to Cabo, just before my parents died, so I didn’t have to worry about any bureaucratic hurdles.

Clio had come around and helped Nate ward our entire building, locking it up tight against intruders and harm. That eased something in my chest. I hated the thought of people rifling through my things while we were away.

The more they worked together, the more I realized that Clio and Nate were friends. Maybe they’d even been lovers once upon a time? I tried to ignore the jealousy that sprouted in my chest at the thought. He’d lived thousands of years. He’d probably had more lovers than I’d had chocolate bars.

The idea that they’d been something more was only compounded by the fact that Clio drove us to the airport in hervintage Mustang. I wasn’t a car girl, but even I could appreciate the awesomeness of this machine. They talked up the front in Gaelic, while I sat in the back, trying not to feel nauseous. Motion sickness was not my friend right now.

Finally, we pulled up in front of Logan Airport. Clio double-parked, ignoring the parking attendant and flipping the bird to a cab that honked behind her. Nate climbed from the car and opened my door for me, holding out an arm so I could lever myself out. He grabbed my huge tote and duffle that contained everything I’d packed. We wouldn’t be gone too long—at least, that’s how I consoled myself. Our return flights were in two weeks, so we could be there and back before we knew it.

Settling me on the sidewalk, Nate went over to the popped trunk and grabbed his own bag, including his big fucking ax. How we were going to get that past the TSA was a mystery.

Clio surprised the shit out of me by coming over and hugging me tight. “Be careful, Wren. Trust no one but Nate. And if either of you need me, call. I haven’t been in a good battle in like, a thousand years.” She said the last part almost wistfully, and I eyed her like she was insane. She might actuallybeinsane.

Still, I nodded and agreed.

She smirked at me. “And take good care of Nate. He looks tough, but he’s really a big fucking marshmallow.”

I chewed my lip. “Are you and he… you know, together?”

Clio threw back her head and laughed, the noise both melodious and slightly off-putting. “Shite no. That big hairy bastard is not my type. I prefer armor-clad battle maidens soaked in the blood of men’s misfortune.”

I shuddered at the visual. “Must make it hard to find a Tinder date.”

She gave my cheek two hard pats. “Girlie, you have no idea.” Someone honked again, and she let out a stream of foul-mouthed Irish cuss words that sounded like English, but madeno logical sense. “Oi, fook off, you drippydick cuntwaffle!” With that, she climbed back into the Mustang and roared away.

Nate rolled his eyes, grabbing our bags and loading them onto one of those little carts. I followed behind him as we moved through check-in, noting how people watched him as he strode through the crowded terminal. Most moved out of the way naturally, although sometimes they just stood in his path and gaped, like a deer in headlights. He would stare those people down, until their synapses decided to switch back on and they got the fuck out of the way.

As he stood in the first-class line, women ate him up with their eyes. I could almost see the wheels turning in their brains. Tall. Strong. Rich. Handsome as hell. It didn’t really matter that I was standing there beside him, obviously pregnant. If anything, watching him dote on me, his hands gentle as he directed me, only made their gazes hungrier.

I mean, I got it. We loved a good provider. A big boy to make us feel small and treasured. I couldn’t even feel territorial, because he wasn’t mine. I was just his obligation. A responsibility he’d inherited from Mrs. Byrne, like the house.

In a whirlwind of first-class lounges and polite smiles, we were being ensconced on a plane. The flight attendants bustled around, cooing over me, giving me sparkling apple juice and ignoring Nate’s gruff demeanor as they fussed.

I’d never had a nanny as a child, but first class felt a bit like being the toddler of rich parents. They fed me almost immediately, trying to tempt me with gourmet food and drinks, and after we’d been flying for a couple of hours, they gave me pajamas and guided me to the bathroom to change. The bathrooms were bigger than the one in my apartment back home.

When I emerged in my silky PJs, they’d even reclined my seat and made me up a little bed. They might be treating me like aninfant, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying the absolute heck out of it.

The divider wall between Nate and I was lowered as I snuggled down to sleep. My eyelids were starting to drag down, the subtle movements of the plane lulling me.

Nate sat beside me, his seat still upright. I blinked at him groggily. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”

He looked down, pulling my blanket up to my chin. “Later. Sleep, Wren,” he rumbled softly, and the sound made me sigh with contentment.

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

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