“Remember?” he asked gently. “I can see the future sometimes. And I can see you in mine. That must mean that A). You don’t kill me and B). We’re together. And those are the only two things that matter, right?”

My eyes flew to his face.

“You’ve seen our future?” I asked hesitantly, dropping my hands to my lap.

He nodded solemnly.

“Yes.”

Long pause.

“And?” I demanded impatiently.

He picked my hand back up. “I can’t see the details. It’s blurry- as though I’m looking through fog. But I can see you in it, I can see me in it and we’re together. I see you holding my hand. And that’s good, right?”

“That depends,” I replied cautiously. “How far in the future are you seeing?”

“I can’t tell,” he shrugged. “But I can tell that it’s a while. Why are you so curious? You’ve already told me- once you’re immortal, time is nothing.”

He seemed unconcerned.

“That is true,” I acknowledged. “Usually. But our current situation is tenuous at best. It would be nice to know if it all turns out alright.”

“It will,” he nodded. “I’m going to concentrate on willing it so.”

“Oh, really?” I laughed, breaking the tension. “You’re going to ‘will’ it so? Well, why didn’t you say so earlier? I wouldn’t have worried.”

“You doubt me?” he cocked an eyebrow and then pushed me over onto the cushiony pillows. “I know what I’m talking about,” he said smugly as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

“Then why, pray tell, were you worried two seconds ago about my future, if you’re already convinced that you can ‘will’ it into being wonderful?” I asked.

His face clouded and I instantly wished I could take back the words. He’d been distracted and I’d ruined it. I mentally kicked myself.

“I know,” he mumbled. “I’m worried because futures can change. What I see today might not be the same thing tomorrow- any number of factors could influence it, change it. That’s why I will work so hard to try to will it into what we want.”

Once again, my heart melted at his words. He was trying so hard. He had been thrust into such a strange new world and he had embraced it…mainly for me. I gulped.

“It will be fine,” I said quietly. “We’ll be together, so whatever comes, it will be fine. I love you, Brennan.”

He stared at me, quietly and with his face bathed in light from the window.

“I love you, too,” he replied gently, cupping my face in his hands, before he lowered his to mine. “Everything will be fine,” he murmured against my lips.

He didn’t sound as sure of himself now as he did and I felt horrible. I had done that. My doubt had taken his hope.

“I’m serious,” I told him. “My mother is on our side and I can assure you that there is no one that you’d rather have on your side than the goddess of witchcraft.”

He smiled. “I can only imagine. And I can’t wait to meet her, by the way. In the mortal world, it is customary for potential husbands to gain the father’s approval but in this case, I think we’d better skip that part.” He smiled, but I found it hard to breathe.

“Husband?” My voice was suddenly tiny in the huge suite.

He looked surprised. “I just assumed that you would want to marry me. I’m sorry. Do you not?”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter. “That was the most un-romantic proposal that I’ve ever heard,” I gasped as I held my sides and tried to breathe. Brennan looked indignant and offended, sticking his roman nose into the air.

“Well, I take it back then,” he sniffed. “I don’t want to marry you after all.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and acted like he was pouting.

“Really?” I crawled toward him on all fours and then plunked into his lap, ignoring his whoosh of air as I knocked the breath out of him. “Because I think that the idea has merit.”

“You do?” he couldn’t help but bite. I smiled.

“Because I might consider it,” I nibbled his bottom lip. “If we make it out of this alive.”

He froze and then relaxed. “You like to shock me,” he observed. “I’ll need to get used to that.”

I laughed and curled up on his chest, allowing my eyelids to close. A nap might work wonders for my mood. Brennan’s arms wrapped around me were strong and warm and I concentrated on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as I let the blackness of sleep overtake me.

* * *

I was cold. It took me a moment to realize that someone was invading the peacefulness of my sleep, that their presence was causing a chill. Whispers surrounded me, hissing and dark. Cold tendrils of smoke curled around my shoulders like frigid fingers and I frantically looked around, trying to see who had stolen into my head. A foreboding sensation was pressing downward onto my chest, crushing it.

“Hello, daughter.”

The voice hissed from shadows and I struggled to see him.

Him.

Mormo.

My father.

“How did you get in here?” I called out. “My dreams are supposed to be safe from you. My mind is protected.”

“Protected by what?” he mocked me. “A spell? I know your mother better than anyone, better than you. It only takes me so long to figure out what she’s done to protect you and undo her spells. Nice bracelet, by the way.”

My gaze flew to my wrist where my enchanted bracelet should be. But of course it wasn’t now. It was in Poseidon’s pocket.

“What did you do?” I snapped.

Mormo finally stepped out of the smoky shadows and I sucked a deep breath in to steady my nerves. He was an ominous presence, scary and large. His hawkish face was gaunt and white, his dark hair severe against his pale skin.

He can’t hurt me here.

He can’t hurt me here.

He can’t hurt me here.

“Can’t I?” he asked softly, his teeth glistening in the muted light of my dream as he read my thoughts.

“No, you can’t,” I answered sharply. “You can’t. What have I ever done to you to deserve what you have done?”

Satisfaction rose in my chest, a delicious feeling. I had never been able to face him before- to demand answers. I realized in this instant how unsettling that had been. I deserved answers. I deserved closure.

“It’s never been about you,” he answered in disgust. “Why are you so self-centered? Your goddess blood shows itself. Everything is not about you.”

He practically spit his last sentence and I recoiled from the venom in his tone.

“If it’s not about me, then why do you hate me so much?” I whispered. “I’m your daughter- your own blood. But you would kill me if you could. How could I not take that personally?”

His smile grew wider, like a wolf’s, and I once again drew away from him. He approached me, moving as quietly and quickly as the wind. I could feel his breath on my cheek, on my neck, as he glided to a stop behind me.

“It’s not personal,” he breathed into my ear, his voice like ice. “But I will kill you. I have to. It’s the only way I can survive.”

“So it’s you or me, then?”

I whirled to face him, backing away once again. I knew he couldn’t hurt me here. But that didn’t put me at ease.

“I’m glad you understand.” His gray eyes, just like mine, glittered menacingly. My heart, even though I had always protected it from him, seemed to wither just a little at the knowledge that my own father hated me so much.

“I don’t hate you,” he answered my thought. “You aren’t anything to me.”

Another piece of my heart dried up and I tried to harden myself against him.

“Why are you here?” I snapped. “What do you want to say to me if I’m nothing to you?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied casually, his hands dropping to his sides. “I just thought I would check in on you.”

“And offer me a warning?” My words were like icy arrows aimed at his heart, but I should have known they would fall impotent to the ground. He didn’t have one.

He laughed, a chilling sound in the bleakness of my nightmare. “Perhaps,” he conceded with a nod. “And perhaps I just wanted to distract you.”

The icy tendrils grasping my shoulders slipped to my stomach, gripping it tightly.

“Distract me?” I whispered, not comprehending. “From what?”

“And what fun would I glean from simply telling you?” he asked humorlessly. “It will be ever so much more satisfying to watch you discover it for yourself.”

“Discover it…” my voice trailed off as I studied his satisfied expression. What had he done?

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

Brennan.

My heart raced and my vision blurred as I struggled to wake.

Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake up.

My eyes popped open and I gasped for air, trying to breathe, to make sense of what had just happened. And as I did, I realized something. I was cold. I was cold when I shouldn’t be because Brennan was very, very warm. I had fallen asleep to his warmth. I glanced around me. My bed was very, very empty.

“Brennan!” I screamed, my voice shrill and fragile as I leapt from the bed and blurred with inhuman velocity toward the door.

Our suite was empty.

The hall outside of our suite was empty.

“Brennan!” I screeched again, flying down the empty corridors of Poseidon’s palace as fast as I could move.

“Stop!” Poseidon roared from the other end of the hall. I slid to a stop in front of him, certain that I was as wild-eyed as a crazy woman.

“Where’s Brennan?” I cried. “Something’s wrong.”

“Brennan left,” Poseidon answered calmly, his hands on his hips as he filled the corridor. “He insisted.”

“What?” I shrieked. “Why? He wouldn’t leave me.”

Poseidon shrugged and blew into his hand, then opened his palm and blew again in my direction. A puff of filmy mist floated in my direction. A memory.

I leaned forward and inhaled it, tossing my head back like I was swallowing a pill.

Instantly, Brennan filled my mind as clearly as if he were standing in front of me. I reached out with shaking fingers, but of course he wasn’t really there and my fingers clenched at empty air.

“I have to leave!” he begged someone, presumably Poseidon. “If I stay, she will die.”

“She can’t die,” Poseidon answered, his voice bored. “She’s immortal.”

“Listen to me,” Brennan pleaded. “Please. Her mother came to me in a dream. Apparently, Mormo can shape-shift. He appeared to Empusa as Ahmose, an old ancient. Mormo’s the one who led us here. Empusa’s not safe here. I have to find her mother.”

Poseidon’s laugh boomed and I shrank away from the tone. He was pleased with himself. Why?