“Stay safe, Ms. Morgan.”
“I will, Davis. Have a good night.”
Hildi sent me the address and I ask the driver to take me around back. The alley is dark but there are people milling around. I hop out of the car and am happy to find the Valkyrie waiting for me. She’s also dressed in normal clothing—she’s not fighting, either.
“You made it,” she says, giving me a smile. Somehow we’ve become friends, I think.
“I snuck out after the guys left.”
She raises a perfectly sculpted blonde eyebrow. “You’re not allowed to leave?”
“Oh, no. I can, but they like to keep track of me. You know, guardian stuff, but they still never told me they were coming tonight. I decided I’d surprise them.”
Her grin widens. “I like it. Sneaky. And they deserve it.”
The bouncer watching the back door lets us in and we’re immediately engulfed by the massive crowd. It’s way more crowded than the last time I was here. And just like Hildi said at the park, the Raven Guard is definitely a draw. A huge banner hangs over the ring with an image of a black crow, talons extended.
I can’t stop staring at the banner and Hildi tugs on my arm. “What?”
“I guess I didn’t realize they were that well known.”
“The Raven Guard?” she laughs. “They’re legendary. Literally. Legends are written about them.” She winks. “You, too.”
Of course I know this, I’ve read the lore—the myths—there are books about it back at The Nead, but it’s weird to know that others know about it, too. I squeeze down a row of spectators and sit next to Hildi. When we’re settled I ask, “So tell me what you know about them? What makes them so special?”
“Their sheer power for one thing,” she declares. “You’ll see that tonight. The fights will be epic, I assure you. But beyond that it’s the mystery, I think. It’s well known they were created by the hands of gods, molded to protect the earth from the Darkness that lurks beneath the surface.”
“You know about the Darkness?” I ask, feeling a little exposed.
“Everyone in here knows about the Darkness, sweetheart. We know who you are. What those boys are doing for you.” She nods toward a door on the far side of the room. I see a glimpse of Clinton. “You realize every woman and a few men in here have tried to lure them into bed?”
“I gathered as much last time I was here. Before our fight.”
There
’s a moment of silence and I sense that Hildi has something else to say. Finally she blurts, “Is it true? That you’ve taken them all for mates? Not just one as intended?”
“How do you know this?”
She laughs. “There’s more gossip in the supernatural world than in the human world. News travels fast. Especially when it has to do with the fates.” I must look confused (as well as a little horrified) to learn that everyone in here knows about me and the Guardians so she says, “There are decisions in our world that can affect everyone. When the Morrigan chooses five mates instead of one, people notice.”
“I’m not the Morrigan anymore, everyone knows that too, right?”
She watches me closely but says nothing. The lights flicker overhead and the loud buzzer sounds, signaling the beginning of the events. Hildi leans in close and says, “Another time you’ll tell me how they are in bed. I assume they’re legendary in that respect as well.”
“Uh, okay,” I say, wondering what she would think about me not having sex with two of the Guardians yet. I suspect that news would travel faster than a bolt of lightning.
The shaman/referee strides across the ring carrying a microphone. His voice is deep with a slight accent when he begins to speak. “Welcome to our main event! The night you’ve all been waiting for! The return of the Raven Guard!”
The crowd jumps to their feet, cheering and shouting for my Guardians. A light flashes over the audience and that’s when I see many are holding up signs—each declaring support for one of the men.
I lean into Hildi, “So when you said this was a big deal, you meant it was a big deal.”
“Oh yeah. These guys are so quiet and elusive that when they finally come out of that hidey-hole you’ve got, the community loses their minds.”
A woman two down from me starts chanting Bunny’s name. I glance down and realize that she’s wearing a headband with bunny ears. I see what Hildi means by lost minds.
“This is surreal,” I say, more to myself than to Hildi. My eyes are trained on the ring where the shaman is announcing each of the men. Clinton, Bunny, Sam, Damien, and Dylan all step forward when their names are called. They look oddly blasé, as though this is a normal day for them. Who knows, it probably is.