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Nolan shakes his head. “Not likely with the Huntresses gone.”
I don’t want to think about the rage-fueled, deity-sanctioned revenge battle where we wiped them out. Not today when we’re focusing on the future instead of the past.
“Dr. Bomani—” I don’t think I’ll ever be able to call her Bastet to her face—“says that the House of Huntresses once worshipped Artemis. She doesn’t know when they switched to following Pan right under the Syndicate’s nose.”
“Does she have a goddess line on whether Artemis will start another House here?”
“I don’t know. She has been concentrating all our sessions on working through my feelings.”
“About? If you want to share,” he adds quickly. “No pressure.”
“Grief mostly. She said the spell misfired because you can’t just wish loss away without working through it.” I sigh, a small release of the giant pressure that circles in me since I’ve learned that recovery means accepting all of me—the good, the bad, the sad, the internal scars, and being a Fury. “We talk about you some.”
“Of course you do.” He sprawls in his chair, his Stetson tipped down. Such a cocky wolf. But he keeps his arm wrapped around my shoulders, his fingers stroking steady, soothing circles on my upper arm. “I’m awesome.”
The mating bond isn’t complete, but the link’s enough to let me see through his bravado. “You miss the marshals.”
“I miss the idea of the marshals. Or at least what I thought they stood for,” he confesses. “Hours of video conferences later, and we’re still uncovering new ways they sabotaged the individual packs to advance their plan to unite us under their rule. They didn’t want what was best for shifters—just what worked for a few pureblooded wolves in their organization.”
“Have you told anyone else about? You know.” I’m not going to air his secrets here, no matter that we’re among friends.
“So many shifters suspected but didn’t say anything. Since I have no wish to stay with the marshals, I don’t guess it matters. Stone and the others swear that outside the wolves, no one cares about mixing bloodlines. One species comes out dominant in each shifter, and that’s good enough for them.”
“And how do both halves of your beast feel about that?”
“We want to be with our mate. That’s my sole priority now.”
“I don’t…I can’t…” Since the fight with the Huntresses, since I stopped living for revenge and started wondering what comes next, I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything. Not my garden when I don’t know where I’ll be next week, next month, or next year. Not the makeup line when my best selling point was my fierce reputation in roller derby. Not my mate when our unfinished bond stretches before me in yet another way to love, lose, and hurt all over again.
“It’s all right,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere. The rest will work itself out.” His words seem so different from the marshal who swaggered his way into The Rink only weeks ago, determined to solve the case and score a promotion with the marshals. But then, I’m sitting in a section surrounded by shifters and comfortable with the situation.
Things changed.
We’ve changed.
So why do I feel so stuck?
Maizie drops through the exposed roof with the other coaches. “Houses,” she announces, her Fury wings flashing dark and shiny as raven feathers in the sunlight. “It is done. The immortals have spoken. Instead of bowing to the Syndicate’s orders, in the future, citizens will each have an equal vote as to how we operate. As the magic-born have their sanctuaries, our city will be reopened as a safe haven for those who wish to live alongside the deity daughters. Humans will be allowed to live here rather than being tourists or mates—”
“What about roller derby?” a Nymph shouts.
“And our concerts?” a Muse yells.
“When will the bars reopen?” a Mad Mae calls.
Maizie holds up her hands. “With the Syndicate gone, the contracts to complete the required years of roller derby are gone with it, and your immortals granted you each the option to decide if you stay a deity daughter or take your chances as a regular person without your gifts. It’s a one-time option so choose wisely. The rest? We will figure out as we go, but for now, let’s have some roller derby fun.”
It looks like it might be our final celebration together.
Tugging my skate laces tighter, I glance at Nolan.
He grins, and a flash of his beast passes through his gaze. “Go on. I’ll be here when you finish wiping what’s left of the track with the rest of them.”
With a quick kiss, I launch into the air.
“Players,” Maizie calls. “Pick your teams of five. House loyalties don’t matter. Where the track’s clear, you skate by standard rules.” She gestures toward the massive chunks of concrete, iron, and steel from the fallen roof and catwalks that block two of the turns. “Where it’s not, we fly, and you’re welcome to use full contact defense moves as well as your magic. Two-minute jams like always, but we call each game after ten minutes. Winners play winners until the last team standing. Losers? You get to buy the rest of us drinks at the Hack and Ale. Players take to the track.”
I grab my sisters, and we meet Tisia and Galena below.
