Vengeance of a Queen: The Resurrection of Queens, Book 2

According to my mother, Aine had come to her soon after the Goddess Brigid told her that her daughters were selected to be the next Fates. Aine wanted to know what the future held for her children. She’d gotten wind of the prophecy and was worried—rightfully so—that it was about her girls.

Mama confirmed that the prophecy was indeed about her daughters, though she didn’t know where the prophecy had originated from. Devastated, Aine left, apparently determined to come up with a plan to save her children. My mother hadn’t just confirmed the prophecy, she’d also told Aine her daughters’ lives were in peril. My mother couldn’t see the entity that wanted her girls, but she knew it was darker and more powerful than anything she’d ever felt before.

Aine came back a year later to once again ask my mother about her daughters’ future. This time, though, she made plans to protect them. She wanted to know if what she had done was enough to keep them alive.

My mother can’t always see on demand, but with Aine and her daughters, she was able to call visions at will. Mama assumed it was the will of the gods and didn’t question it. My memory rushed back to me at this part. She’d been able to confirm that her daughters would be safe where they were hidden. She’d also confirmed that they would have until the triplets were roughly one hundred years old to ensure the spots they selected were secure before demons came for them, but she couldn’t tell Aine an exact date.

“Is that why she wrote I know where Sorcha and Isobel are?” I ask, interrupting my mother’s story.

She shot me a glare that made me wince. “Sí. Because you heard us as we talked about it in more detail, but considering how young you were, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“This is where I come in. I recorded everything in this.” Abuela hands me a leather-bound journal. “It’s everything we knew, including all the coordinates and information on the traps that were set,.”

Staring at the journal, I don’t immediately reach for it. They knew about the prophecy all this time. They knew I had a part to play in all of this, yet they never told me.

Was this how Ayla felt when she learned her mother had taken her memories?

A little betrayed? Hurt? Confused? Scared?

This is all starting to feel like too much.

Needing air, I shoot to my feet and fly out the door, walking away from my mother’s house as quickly as I can. There’s a small part of me that feels childish for leaving, but I just need a moment to myself.

Malcolm was right, there has been a lot of change lately. I thought I’d been processing it all well. I guess I’ve been lying to myself.

About an hour later, Malcolm finds me as I sit on a branch against the trunk of a large tree not far from the village, and he settles beside me.

“How are you holding up?” His low rumble helps to settle me. So does the fact that he waited to find me.

I rest my head against his shoulder, still staring into the depths of the jungle. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” I sigh, pulling on the end of my braid. “You were right when you said this is a lot to handle. I didn’t need time to wait for you,” I add, “but I don’t think I have been properly processing any of this.”

His arm slips around me, and he leans his head against mine. “I’m here to help with that. I want to help with that.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and we sit in silence for several minutes. “There’s a lot riding on you ladies,” he murmurs, breaking the silence, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t be, for lack of a better word, human. None of us can be set to ‘go’ all the time. We all need to turn off, recharge, and then get back to work. If you need time, we’ll take time.”

“But it feels like I can’t take time,” I argue. “Malcolm, it feels like time is running out. We need to find Ayla’s sisters, and we need to stop the gates of Hell from opening. We need more answers.”

And that’s the crux of the problem. We’ve been running along on this fucking wild goose chase, not even one step ahead of the enemy. Hell, I’m pretty sure we’re a few steps behind them at this point. The gods have tasked us with the impossible, and instead of giving us the tools we need to have a fighting chance, they leave us shrouded in questions that we can’t seem to find a solid answer to.

To say I’m frustrated is an understatement. I’m furious. How dare the gods drop this at our feet. They were the ones that started it, it looks like they ran from their problems, and now they expect us to clean up after them. I want to rage, to scream. They know we won’t just walk away, not with innocent lives in danger, so we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Literally between good and evil. But the good guys aren’t looking too good right about now.

“Hey.” Malcom’s timbre breaks me out of my raging thoughts. “I know how this makes you feel. I can feel it through our bond. I feel the same way.” He presses a light kiss to my forehead. “But you aren’t alone. We aren’t alone in any of this.”

“You’re right.” I sigh, my anger cooling. “I’m sorry I just stormed off like that. I just…I don’t know. It’s like my brain shut off and I needed to get out.”

“No need to apologize to me. Your mother and grandmother, however…” I groan. I’m not going to live this down. “Come on,” he prompts. “Let’s get back to your mother’s house. Abuela said she had more to tell us.”

Yippee.

I take one last deep, cleansing breath before we head back. I have no idea how, but we’re going to do this. We don’t exactly have a choice.

It’s eerily silent when we walk back into my mother’s house. Ayla and Caleb are snuggled up together on my mother’s couch. My mother and abuela are in the kitchen, talking in low tones. Now I feel like an ass. I scrub my hands down my face and head right for the kitchen. May as well face the music head-on.

“Oh, mija,” my mother soothes. Her arms come around me and she hugs me close. This isn’t the reaction I was expecting, but I relish the comfort she provides and sink into her embrace. “I know none of this is easy, mija.”

My grandmother comes up behind me and places her hands on my back, offering just as much comfort as my mother. “I have more to tell you. It’s all in that journal, but I want to explain.”

I nod, taking one last moment to bask in the comfort of my family before pulling away.

“Go sit down with your mate. We’ll be right out.”

I nod again and go to settle beside Malcolm.

A few minutes later, my mother and grandmother come out of the kitchen carrying trays of food. I don’t fight the small smile that spreads across my face. When in doubt, feed everyone. My mother never misses an opportunity to feed anyone she can, using literally anything as an excuse to stuff you full of delicious meals.

“Olivia,” Abuela begins, “I told you the location of Ayla’s sisters is in that journal, but there’s more.” Hope starts to war with dread in my stomach, and I can’t make myself reach for anything my mother prepared. “Since you were so young, I took it upon myself to go in search of every scrap of information I could about the prophecy—queens, demons, the gods, everything—and it’s all there in that journal.”

I can feel Malcolm’s awe through the bond, which mirrors my own. I don’t recall a time without my abuela around, but I do remember her not visiting as often for a period of time. That must have been when she’d been out investigating.

“I talked with individuals who had lived with and worked beside other queens,” she continues. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but our clan has never been under the guidance of a queen. We had one in the area when I was young, but we were never too involved with them, preferring to stay in the jungle and work alongside the humans that also called this area home.

“I also talked with other seers. I wanted to know what they saw in regard to this prophecy. I wasn’t able to learn much through them, but what insights I did gain will help you. The origins are so murky, no one really knows how the prophecy came to be, but many of the seers I spoke to believe it has a dark origin, unlike most prophecies. They couldn’t tell me why, specifically, they believed that, just that it was a feeling they all harbored.

“I also talked to those who claimed to be able to commune with the gods. Most were con artists, but there were a select few who had that rare talent. I recorded every conversation I had with them. Based on those conversations, it seemed their hands were tied with what they could do on this plane, but perhaps you’ll understand more when you read those sections. I also spent quite a bit of time hunting down everything I could about the Fates.”

This particularly catches my attention.

“I believe much of the information we once had was purposely lost. They have a higher purpose, something much more important than we’re led to believe now, and I think the gods did this intentionally to prevent them from being harmed. Unfortunately, it means there isn’t enough information to provide much guidance.

“Finally, I have chronicled our history. Not just that of shifters, but of witches, demons, and vampires. I collected as many myths, legends, and tales as I could and compiled a comprehensive timeline in an attempt to understand why we came to be. I feel that our origins are an important piece of this puzzle.”

Shocked silence greets her when she finishes. Santa. Mierda. If I thought my abuela was badass for taking on Cortez, I was extremely wrong. I’m also tremendously touched she went to such lengths to get this information for us.

She did it because she loves us, my panther murmurs. She’s been fairly quiet since we got here, which is unusual for her. But then, she’s been far quieter since we gained our new powers than ever before. She was never one to talk back to me like Ayla’s dragon, but she’d always been there to lend a comment or two. I just hadn’t realized until now how silent she’s been.

And just like that, I’m once again hit with how impossible this entire endeavor feels. I take several deep, calming breaths as I listen to the others discuss our next steps. We just gained so much valuable information, but it feels like too much to process right now.

Where the hell do we even start? 

We’ll start at the beginning of the journal, my panther soothes. We can take all of this one step at a time. No need to solve everything all at once. 

I hate that my anxiety over this is impacting me so much. It’s causing me to struggle when it comes to thinking rationally.

We’re going to work on this together, kitten. Malcolm’s voice anchors me.

Thank you.

Anything for you, kitten.

Later that night, we’re on the jungle floor around the fire. Music is playing and people are dancing and having a good time. It’s a celebration to welcome me back home. I don’t feel particularly festive right now, but I’m enjoying watching my friends and family have fun.

I let the warmth of the fire sink into my bones and allow myself to just drift along the melody. I’ve missed this. It’s not lost on me that this isn’t the first time I’ve had this thought. Perhaps I should have spent more time here before this. It could very well be too late now.

“How’s it hanging?” Ayla sits next to me, her eyes searching my face. “Want to go blow something up with magic? Run around in your panther form? Punch someone?”

A laugh bubbles out of me. Leave it to her to be just socially awkward enough to make me feel better. “No. Not right now. But I’ll let you know when the need strikes me.”

Her arm slips over my shoulders in a loose hug. We were sisters before this, and everything we’ve experienced over the last several months has only solidified our bond. I’m lucky to have her and the others. My badass bitches.

“Why don’t we take a day or two to relax here before going back with the journal?” Ayla suggests. “Decompress a bit. I’m sure your family will be thrilled to have you here for a bit longer.”

“Are you sure?” Guilt hits me hard. I have the key to finding her sisters and she’s offering to wait.

“They’ve been asleep for centuries now, another couple of days isn’t going to hurt them.”

I feel her reassurance through the bond. “Thank you.”

“I love you, you know.”

“I love you too, you crazy bitch.”