“You can do this, Caia,” Jae encouraged.
Magnus’ words from this morning came back to her in a rush of comforting warmth.
“Your father would have been so proud of you, Caia.” He had hugged her close, and she had choked back the tears at the thought of Rafe, of the picture she had of the two of them that she kept tucked under her pillow. Magnus pulled back, his eyes glittering suspiciously. “I know because I’m so proud I can barely contain it sometimes.”
The people who loved her believed in her. I can do this. Caia threw back her shoulders and threw open the doors. The high wall before them was covered with plaques with lists of names of the supernaturals that had fought with them and died during the Great Battle for Concord, as it was now called. In the center was the largest plaque with Nikolai’s name scrawled across it in beautiful calligraphy. Below it Caia had had the inscription from Oscar Wilde’s own tomb carved into the stone for Nikolai. It read:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity’s long broken urn
For his mourners will be outcast men
And outcasts always mourn
Caia smiled as she passed it, knowing Nikolai would have loved it, an opinion shared by Reuben. She strode up the stairs and into the court, Lucien and Jae at her back, acting as her second and third in command. The benches of the court were empty, but set up in the middle of the room was a huge round table, and seated in beautifully carved chairs that Lucien and his apprentice had worked on for months (each chair depicted a moment in the Great Battle for Concord) were supernaturals of influence and power. There were ten of them. Four magiks, two faeries, two vampyres, two lykans and of course, Caia… their Chairwoman. She strode to the largest chair at the northern most point of the circle and Lucien pulled it out for her. She stepped between it and the table and lowered herself upon the comfortable cushion. Reuben, Saffron and Alfred stared back at her among less familiar faces. Faces of people she knew she would come to know very well over the years as she led them in the new world.
It had been a grueling and exhaustive endeavor to bring them all together, among them three magiks and a faerie who had once been Midnight. But after the battle, and months of hard work, Caia’s wishes had come true. The war had ended and in its place sprung something new. These people before her, their actions and decisions were only the beginning… for there was much work to be done.
She smiled at them in joy that this moment was finally here. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first meeting of the United Council of Supernaturals.”
Epilogue – The Gods
Mount Olympus
“I’m a little sad that it’s over,” Hemera sighed.
Artemis shrugged. “The war is over, but there’s still going to be plenty of action. We won’t be bored, I promise.”
Hemera sniffed, feeling a little put out. “I bet it only lasts a century.”
Artemis grabbed her hand. “I’ll take that bet.”
Gaia, who was dozing on the giant-sized cloudy bed with all its gold trimming that used to belong to Hera and Zeus, groaned, “Ladies, please, can we not just enjoy this moment.”
The two goddess’ snorted at their mother. “New age wench,” Hemera muttered.
“You know if the war starts up again, she’ll,” Artemis gestured to Gaia, “Just find another way to bring about peace.”
Hemera nodded. “That’s what I said… new age wench.”
“I heard that,” Gaia murmured but didn’t move from the bed.
Artemis grunted and flopped down onto the floor. “I never thought I would say this but I actually envy Hades. At least he’s got company in the Underworld.”
“And drama,” Hemera agreed.
“And sex… not for me of course, ‘cause I don’t do that sort of thing, but it does spice the viewing pleasure up a bit.”
“Not to mention he has torture down there.”
“And a river.”
“And creepy creatures.”
“And Persephone.”
“And cable TV.”
Artemis’ mouth fell open. “Since when?”
“Oh he got that installed a few years back now.”
“That son-of-a-bitch!”
“Hey!” Gaia grumbled from the bed. “I take offence to that. Especially since, if it weren’t for me, your life would be very dull right about now.”
Her daughter, Artemis snorted, “It is dull.”
“No, it would have been dull if we had let our children snack on one another and bring the war to an end that way.”
“Where is she going with this?” Hemera mused suspiciously.
Gaia sighed and pushed herself up to a sitting position so she could glare at them. “For intelligent goddesses you really can be rather dim-witted. This isn’t over ladies. We took away the trace.”
They stared at her blankly.
“The trace,” she reiterated. “The one thing that pulled down crime rate.”
Their eyes widened slowly in understanding.
“Yes.” Gaia smiled. “Sooner or later, and it will be sooner, our children are going to start to realize they have a freedom they didn’t have before. No one checking in on them to see what they’re up to; no one halting any nasty intentions they might have. Be patient ladies.” Her mouth twisted in distaste. “Your need for drama is about to be fulfilled. The repercussions are almost upon us.”
The End