Morrigan by Jonathan King (cat reading book txt) 📕

had a father, and now he’s gone and I want him back. But he knew she was right.

Cora stood speechless, mouth agape, staring at the doors where her army had vanished. Then she straightened her shoulders. “Well, I guess we’ll have to try again next year. Samhain’s the same every year, and I’ve got plenty of time to collect fresh ingredients.”

“No, you don’t.” Morrigan drew her sword. “Because you’re not leaving this cemetery alive.”

“Afraid I’ll have to agree with the lass,” said Mac, pointing Fragarach at Cora. “The world isn’t safe while you’re in it.”

“And what kind of gods would we be if we didn’t protect the world?” Brigid asked, firing up her torch.

Cora gave an incredulous chuckle, her eyes never leaving Morrigan. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really want to kill me? Your own mother? After I took you in, cared for you, gave you everything, like a mother should—this is how you repay me?”

Morrigan flushed red, and her emerald eyes narrowed to lasers. “I have never wanted any part of you. You teach your children to fill the world with hatred and violence and despair. You rip me from my homeland, from my family, because you can’t stand to be alone. You take away my powers, my scars, my name. You murder the boy that I love and think it’s no more important than squashing a beetle. And now you try to condemn the people I’m sworn to protect to a fate worse than death. There is nothing good in you, nothing I would want to align myself with. And no matter how many times you say it, you’re not my mother. You’re nothing but a power-mad, manipulative, murdering piece of shit.”

This time, Cora did cry. Her tears dropped to the cemetery soil and sizzled like boiling water. She dropped her gaze. “I was really hoping you’d see things my way. That you’d love me, like you should. But I guess you’re just another child disowning me.” She looked up again, and her eyes glowed red. “I swore I’d never let that happen to me again, and I meant it. I’m sorry, Honey. I’ll always love you. But you’ve got to die.”

The transformation was horrifying, even after the spectacle of the Sluagh. Cora began to grow and twist and stretch and bulge, her pantsuit ripping apart to make way for massive limbs and wings and skin that turned swamp green and hardened into scales. Her head rose higher and higher, stretching into a reptilian shape crowned with a ring of horns.

The thing that had been Cora dropped to all fours with a roar and a spurt of poisoned flame, sending Abel and the gods ducking for cover behind the tombstones. Then she shot up into the air, circling the graveyard, ready to attack again.

“She’s a dragon,” said Abel.

“You’re surprised?” Morrigan asked.

“Nothing surprises me anymore,” said Abel. “This monster’s just going to be a little hard to kill, and given what we’ve been fighting, that’s saying something.”

“Relax,” said Morrigan, strutting out into the open and crouching as the Caorthannach descended toward her. “This is right up my alley.”

The dragon opened her jaws to snap down on Morrigan, but the goddess leaped into the air and landed lightly on top of her scaly head, hacking and stabbing and balancing like a ballerina as the creature soared away.

“Be careful,” Abel whispered. He couldn’t lose anyone else today.

“Look out!” Brigid called. Abel turned to see the Dullahan coming straight for him. He fumbled for his necklace.

“Hey!” Mac called. The Dullahan paused and turned its body to face him. “Remember me? I drowned you, you choked me, we came out even. It’s time to declare a winner.” He spun Fragarach in his hand.

The Dullahan charged. Mac slipped off his coat and tossed it to Abel. “Take this, lad! Shake it out. Stay safe.” He raced off, leading the headless horseman away.

“I don’t want to stay safe,” muttered Abel. “I want to help.”

“Well, we want you safe,” said Brigid, putting her back to his, torch in hand. “And there’s one more monster here, and I’ve lost sight of her.”

Abel looked around, but the Dearg-Due was nowhere to be seen. “Guess we better make that even.” He slipped Mac’s coat onto his shoulders and then took it by the lapels and shook tendrils of mist from it until the graveyard was covered in a fog of invisibility.

Together, boy and goddess crept through the tombstones, the sounds of steel on scale and dragon roars ringing out above them and Mac’s battle cries echoing beyond them. Abel’s heart pounded. Cold fingers of mist stroked his face … and then real fingers brushed his cheek.

Abel shrieked and jerked away, pointing his sword into empty air. Brigid spun and cranked up her torch until it spit fire like a flamethrower, but the Dearg-Due was already gone.

“You think I need to see you to kill you?” the vampire’s voice drifted on the mist. “I can hear the blood pounding through your arteries. I can smell its coppery tang. I know right where you are, lover boy, and we have unfinished business, you and I.”

“Great,” Abel muttered. “Please tell me you know how to kill her, Brigid.”

“Sorry, dear heart,” said Brigid. “She’s very much undead. We’ve fought her before, but never killed her. Best we’ve been able to do is stick her back in her grave for a few hundred years.”

Abel sighed. “Not much point in fighting her, then.”

“I don’t know. Staying alive is always nice.”

“Maybe she can be reasoned with.” Abel cleared his throat. “Look, Dearg-Due … or is there another name you’d prefer?” Silence was his answer, so he went on. “You don’t have to do this. Just because Cora tells you to kill me—”

“Oh, baby,” the Dearg-Due interrupted, “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to. Sucking you dry turns me on. Winning favor with an ancient and powerful demon lady is icing on the blood.”

Abel opened his mouth, but two strong and slender arms wrapped