Yesterday, you got a sneak peak at Chapter 1 of the upcoming Hand of Time.

If you read it yesterday, go back and reread, as I discovered later last night that I’d uploaded the “mostly edited” version, not the one for print. I’m relatively sure you’ll notice the differences.

In any event, it’s fixed now. And since we’ve already heard from Dirk, I think it’s time to take a peek and see what Morgan has been up to.

3 days and counting!

Enjoy!

Sam was a flash of Cimmerian shade, her outfit matching her blackberry hair as she zigzagged through the dense forest with the fluid grace of a gazelle with a lion on its tail. She played hide and seek with the shadows, and I was having a hell of a time keeping a bead on her. Bursting through the pines and out into a large clearing of short grass, I spanned the distance between us, waylaying her with an aerial kick to the back that sent her tumbling forward into a combat roll with an explosion of breath. Springing to her feet before she came to a full stop, Sam pivoted into a roundhouse kick that I barely dodged, my fist aiming directly for her jaw.

She deflected the strike with the momentum of her spin, managing to avoid my follow up kicks, before rushing in to clip my chin with her elbow. The shockwave from the sharp hit almost made me bite my tongue, pain spiking down my jaw and into my neck. Capturing my next jab, she used my kidney as a speed bag before I managed to retreat with a grunt of rapidly mounting irritation. Regrouping quickly despite the ache in my side that threatened to drop me, I lashed out with a flurry of fists and feet, hoping that sheer speed would somehow get past her defenses.

Sam expertly blocked and dodged everything I threw at her before unexpectedly stopping my forward inertia with a hard palm to the chest that sent me reeling back gasping for air as my lungs forgot how to work.

Breathing is highly overrated anyway.

In the two months since I’d joined Nemesis, I’d had many occasions to spar with Sam, the current head of the group and perpetual pain in my ass, but never at quite this intensity. With the exception of Sam’s fraternal twin, Tequila, no other member of Nemesis understood the training style I’d grown up with in my Amazonian tribe. It was a brutal, no holds barred, out for blood mode of fighting, meant to test our skills, to keep them as honed as our blades. But there was a fine line between training and the outright brawl this session was quickly turning into.

And damned if I didn’t have the first clue as to what set her off this time. But then, getting a read on Sam was like trying to capture smoke with a sieve. Holding back, she eyed me as we circled one another slowly.

She and her sister had been raised outside the tribe until they were fifteen by their mother, the former Queen Antiope. Both were formidable fighters in their own rights, thanks to her guidance. Tequila, the resident healer of Nemesis, had come back to her Amazonian roots, while Sam decided to serve with our shield-sisters the Valkyrie, before they were both recruited into Nemesis’ ranks. Where her sister was exceptionally skilled in the healing arts, Sam’s abilities resided in tactical strategy and a natural talent for Psychomancy.

I deflected another whirlwind of strikes and growled, dancing out of the way. Over the years, my experiences going toe-to-toe with Psychomancers had shown me they generally resorted entirely on fighting with their mental acumen, relying on telekinesis and telepathy to swing the odds in their favor.

But Sam had elevated it into an art form, wielding both blade and brain with the ferocity of a woman possessed and the skill of an accomplished warrior. She’d managed, numerous times, to make even me question if I’d somehow become dumb and clumsy, and I’d been swinging swords since before she and her sister were even a twinkle in Antiope’s baby blues.

Truth be told, this fight had been a long time coming. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Sam, per se, but I was unaccustomed to being bossed around, even if I understood the hierarchy as it stood within Nemesis. I wasn’t used to being the puella, the rookie. It rankled me, getting under my skin like a sliver of glass.

Sam motioned for me to attack, egging me on with a gesture. I hung back. She was baiting me. My eyes narrowed.

When she’d suggested we ‘take it to the wood line’ after our most recent verbal altercation, I was more than happy to oblige, despite wishing her timing had been better. We had a house full of reveling Amazons, Valkyrie, and other guests for Midsummer celebrations, and I had a gala date later that evening with Dirk. I’d been dragging my feet about it all day and that black cloud had gotten me into this predicament.

Still, it felt good to take out all of the pent up frustration and worry on someone who’d been an absolute thorn in my side for the last two months, even if she was making me wonder if this was going to end with one of taking a one-way trip to Bella’s morgue. The gnawing sensation of impending disaster intensified when Sam reached for her blade, a scarily grim and focused expression smoothing the lines on her face into an impassive mask. I immediately followed suit, loosing Aduro from her scabbard and pulling her free with a single smooth movement.

The slow circling continued and I knew she was waiting for an opening. The ground below me was springy, damp from the perpetual moistness that helped to keep the Emerald City its lovely verdant hue. It was a hell of a drastic change from the Vegas citadel’s sandy sparring fields, but at least it wouldn’t hurt as much to get knocked down.

And with the way Sam kept eyeballing me, I knew one of us was going to end up ass over teakettle soon.

What the hell is with her today? I hadn’t realized that telling Sam I had plans for the evening that didn’t include sitting through another boring debriefing warranted this kind of ass kicking. Maybe the stress of being surrounded by a veritable nation of shield-sisters was getting to her.

As if she heard my thoughts —and considering the steadily building pressure behind my eyes, she most likely had— Sam’s sickly green blade, Hungersnöd, sang against the fire kissed crimson steel of Aduro. The flames wreathing along the edges of Aduro ebbed for a moment as if they were in danger of being snuffed out. The force of the blow sent up a shower of multicolored sparks into the air.

Sam twisted, grunting with the effort of whirling the other blade toward my sword arm. Hungersnöd had the distinct advantage of being not just one blade, but two, each one equally sharp and deadly. I wheeled back, just barely managing to keep my limb firmly attached with a quick feint. The fine hairs on the skin of my arm stood on end at the near miss.

Sam was, indeed, a force to be reckoned with. I, on the other hand, was starting to feel the effects of her assault. Fatigue teased at the edges of my muscles, waiting like a tiger in low grass to pounce. Sweat was pouring down the sides of my face, dripping from my lashes and stinging my eyes.

Gritting my teeth, I parried Sam’s incoming onslaught, fighting the headache that was on the verge of dropping me into a writhing mass of piteous moaning. She was shoving against my mental barriers to distract me and the exertion of battling on both fronts was starting to take its toll. My arms felt heavy as sandbags and my footwork was so off I was surprised I hadn’t broken an ankle yet. The ground rolled and pitched as a sudden, Sam-assisted wave of vertigo threatened to topple me and I paused just long enough to keep from falling down.

Stumbling back to regroup, I narrowly avoided the razor steel that screamed through the air where my face had been just seconds before. As Sam stopped to glare at me, again, strangely not pressing her advantage, I wondered if she was growing as tired of this as I was. She blinked slowly, as though centering herself, and when her eyes refocused on me, gray irises shifting to mimic the dull willow green of her blades, a byproduct of her unfortunate injection with Buxley’s serum three months prior, I knew she wasn’t about to concede.

Sam swayed lightly on the balls of her feet, twin blades at the defensive, and from the set of her jaw, I realized that she was in a different headspace. One that made my heart pause for reflection a second longer than I was comfortable with. This is about to get really ugly, my subconscious whispered, and I knew I needed to put a stop to this.

Aduro pulsed against my palm, the heat radiating from the blade spiking as the corona of fire engulfing the blood infused steel writhed its way up my forearm as though my sword could sense the change in Sam’s attitude as surely as I could. The scorching warmth suffused through me, bolstering my resolve, refreshing my flagging reserves, and with a low snarl, I took a step toward Sam. I was not going to be put down like an ailing animal.

Not by her. Not here.

“You really want to do this?” I seethed quietly, somewhere deep in my subconscious desperately hoping her answer was a resounding yes. “Well come on, then, fearless leader,” I spit the words like a curse, “show me what you’ve got.”

“Good show of focus, Morgan!” The shrill shout startled me, spiraling my attention from Sam to where Bree, younger sister to Sam’s partner Bella, stood on the sidelines beside an equally excited Astrid. “You can take her!” Bree telegraphed an encouragingly triumphant smile my way, bouncing around like a maniac in the grass when she noticed my glance, clapping like she was my most rabid fan. Her waist-length copper hair whipped around her body, as did the flowing skirt of her gauzy pastel flower dress, as if they’d been taken hostage by the winds.

“Come on, Mom!” chimed Astrid. She looked like she’d just returned from a run. Her cheeks bright pink, eyes a-twinkle, pigtails swaying back and forth like a living metronome, ticking away the seconds that I stood there.

Wait. Confusion froze me in place, while I frantically tried to figure out what the hell was going on. When did they show up?

Sam used the distraction to surge forward with a cry, delivering a kick to my midsection that knocked me off my feet and into the grass with an explosion of curses from me. My elbow slammed against the ground, sending a stinger of a jolt down my not-so-funny bone. And Aduro went flying in the opposite direction my ass was headed.

“Tezcatlipoca, show your damn face so we can get this over with!” Sam bellowed at me as I scrambled to my feet. Edging toward my sword, I narrowly dodged Sam’s slashing dual blades. It seemed like the faster she moved, the slower I went.

“Damnit, Sam,” I snapped, lunging forward to catch her wrist on the downswing, giving it a savage wrench as I twisted her arm behind her back. She let out a harsh yelp as I applied more pressure and leverage, yanking the weapon out of her trapped hand and using it to hold her at bay. “I was pissed before when you insulted my faculties, but I don’t know what the hell you’re yelling at me about now!”

“That’s the way to take control of her, Morgan,” Bree’s self-congratulatory snicker floated to my ears. I heard her take a long gulp from a glass, a soft tinkle of ice that sounded again as I spared a glance to see her raising it to me in a sloshing toast. “Show her who the Queen should be.”

Again, Sam took advantage of my distraction to wriggle from my grasp, narrowly crossing blades as she twirled. Sam pushed forward, a razored edge of green steel stopping inches from my face, before she stomped hard on the instep of my bare foot with one booted heel and slammed her forehead into the bridge of my nose when my guard dropped.

Blood shot from my nostrils and I let out another string of expletives as I hobbled back. My newly acquired weapon leapt from my hand and returned to Sam, as surely as if she’d physically snatched it from my grasp, and she promptly became a stinging blur as sweat dripped into my eyes, mixing with the tears brimming against my lower lashes from the impact. Resetting the broken cartilage with a swift movement, my foot joined the throbfest already in full swing in my brain, before all of the pain went numb, and my focus returned.

“Shut up, Bree,” I barked, narrowing my eyes at Sam.

“Don’t mind her,” Astrid chirped, all smiles and enthusiasm, “she’s drunk.”

“I am not,” sputtered Bree. “It’s just iced tea. I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Whatever, lush,” I could hear the eye roll in her voice. Astrid shouted more encouragement to Sam. “Kick butt, Mom! You got this!”

“I’ve seen you two go at it before, but this is the best sparring match ever!” In my periphery, I watched Bree wave her hand imperiously, like a queen to her court jesters, “Please continue.”

Wait, what?

Her words were enough to draw both of Sam and I to a stop, her eyes shifting back to gray. I kept my wary gaze locked on Sam as she turned to face the peanut gallery, ready for her to resume her assault at a moment’s notice.

I was secretly glad for the reprieve. It gave me a chance to finally locate Aduro and rearm myself. The headache didn’t abate one bit, maintaining a steady throb that kept me fuzzy and fatigued. If I weren’t so pissed, I could almost admire Sam’s tenacity and multitasking skill.

Almost.

“Wait a minute, you two,” Sam scowled and Astrid’s enthusiasm died a slow, lingering death as she finally got a good look at her mother’s face. “What are you doing out here in the first place?”

Confusion soured Bree’s features as though she’d just sucked on a lemon. “Isn’t this the match to determine the Solstice Queen?”

“Queen?” I mouthed before my brain finally decided to kick off the comfy covers and get on with her job. “Oh, right.”

The crowning of the Solstice Queen was the culmination of the Midsummer celebrations, an honor reserved for she who showed the most cunning and skill against her opponents. I hadn’t realized I was in the running.

I’d been doing my damnedest to keep myself as far away from the temptations that seemed to drape from every surface from within the mansion and without the last two days. It wasn’t easy. My kind were particularly…frisky at Midsummer. The sheer volume of pheromones flooding the airspace inside the mansion was enough to make me lock myself in my room for fear of somehow summoning Dirk and subjecting him to the very same urges that were turning my shield-sisters into sensual vessels of Aphrodite, just begging to be filled.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t experienced my fair share of Midsummer madness before. It just seemed to be hitting me particularly hard this year and I didn’t trust myself around anyone.

Especially him.

Rolling my eyes, I caught Dirk in my periphery talking to Bella, and blinked, surprised. My surprise upended into a frown. He’d told me he couldn’t teleport this far. Something nebulous and unpleasant coiled in my stomach. Apparently someone has been progressing in his abilities and forgot to clue me in. Pursing my lips, I pushed it to the back of my mind, resolving to talk to him about it later, and turned back to Sam as Astrid skidded to a stop in front of her mother.

“Mom, I was thinking that Dad and I could do a duet together, while you play the violin,” Astrid clasped her hands in front of her in a begging stance, beaming a smile made of unicorns and rainbows at Sam, batting her long lashes. And like that, Astrid managed to diffuse any remaining tension between Sam and me. I shook my head with a low chuckle. Astrid was definitely her father’s daughter.

“Did you ask your Daddy?” We all glanced in his direction, but he remained oblivious, deep in conversation with Bella near the trees.

“He said yes already.” Astrid practically floated on tip toes.

“In that case,” Sam said, “of course I will.”

Bree chortled into her glass, eyeballing me with a mischievous glint as she sauntered over to join us. “Well if this isn’t a challenge to be the Queen,” she said, after a long gulp of her drink and a smack of her lips, “then are you going to perform something for us? Morgan, surely you have other, um, non-lethal talents you could share?” I gave Bree an eye-slap and she paled. “Also, if this wasn’t what we thought, what was it exactly? You two looked set to raze the earth.”

“Just a misunderstanding,” Sam said, shooting me a warning glare that told me to let her do the talking. “Morgan and I are fine. I just thought she had something that she doesn’t.”

“And what might that be?” I bristled, curious because it was news to me.

“Stamina, clearly,” Sam said, dryly, a wry smile tilting the edges of her lips briefly. “Good thing you two showed up when you did. Morgan looked like she needed a breather. She’s not as young as she used to be.”

“Don’t even go there,” I warned, massaging my temples with an exaggerated motion, hoping Sam would get the hint.

Bree whistled and wagged her index finger in the air. “I think she just did. Are you going to take that from her, Morgan?” If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear Bree was trying to rile me up again.

“Stop being a boob,” Astrid scowled, bopping Bree in the arm. Stumbling back, Bree erupted in effervescent giggles, nearly falling to the grass, confirming Astrid’s earlier pronouncement.

Oh yes. She’s definitely tipsy.

“Hey, watch it,” Bree pouted prettily with a hiccup. “I’ve got a beverage here.”

Sam watched me with detachment, her irises back to their normal color of gray storm clouds ringing a restless midnight blue ocean, as I carefully sheathed Aduro. Sam’s thoughts were once more concealed beneath a mask of stoicism, cultivated by years of mental discipline and steely resolve. Behind my sockets, the pressure was still mounting, like my head was an orange and Sam was making juice. With a sigh, I held up my hands. “Can you please stop poking around inside my skull? If you haven’t found what you’re looking for, I can assure you it’s not there.”

Bree gasped loudly, as though I’d just snatched a butterfly out of the air and plucked its wings off, affronted eyes pinning me in place. “You just gave up!”

Sam snorted at me and it took a slow ten count to keep from throwing down the gauntlet all over again. “I thought I trained you better. You looked like a helpless turtle out there. Adorable, to be sure, but helpless all the same.” The pressure abruptly eased and I nearly drooped with relief.

“Thank you.”

“And you’re correct. The Abyssal has somehow left your premises. Not that that’s a good thing,” Sam muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

“The what?” I asked, as three curiosity-filled pairs of eyes all swung to Sam in unison.

“Abyssal,” Sam sighed, “I guess you’ve never heard of one?”

“Nope.”

“You would’ve, if you’d been listening at my, what did you call them? Tedious, waste of time debriefings,” she snapped.

“Well if I knew it was going to get your panties all in a twist, I would’ve worded it differently,” I shot back.

Bree cleared her throat and straightened as though she was about to give a lecture. It wasn’t until she opened her mouth and started talking that I realized a lecture was exactly what she was about to deliver.

“After the Cataclysm, every Supreme Being, great and small agreed to leave Earth and descend into the Abyss, never to return. Or at least that’s what they wanted us to believe.” Bree’s grin widened as her Irish lilt dipped into a clandestine whisper. “But the gods didn’t want to leave their ardent followers empty handed. Relics, owned by the gods themselves, were left in the possession of humans and Mythics for protection. Each one of those divine objects was imbued with an infinitely replenishing sliver of that deity’s essence…”

“… which we call an Abyssal,” finished Astrid, under her breath, giving me a startled glance when she realized my attention had swung to her. “What? I read stuff.”

The soft descant of a violin started to play in my head, heralding Sam’s mental approach. A much friendlier, non-combative attempt at mental communication than before. Someone clearly didn’t want Bree or Astrid overhearing her.

Anger flared in my stomach like a match being struck in a dark room. But I took a deep breath and kept it simmering.

Suddenly things were starting to make more sense. Over the past few months, I’d been having a harder time controlling my emotions than normal, acting like an angsty teenager at the slightest provocation, experiencing auditory and visual hallucinations that made me doubt my own sanity at times.

Something was… riding me. That chilled me to the core. At least I had an answer to what had been plaguing me. It was one of the reasons I’d been keeping myself so busy of late, throwing myself into Nemesis business with the fervor of a woman possessed.

Which, I suppose, I was.

Sam gave me a slight head tilt. Tezcatlipoca, the Smoking Mirror.>

I hoped the sarcasm saturating my reply might indicate that she was definitely not off my bad side. At the rate and speed she was going with all her secretive keep-Morgan-in-the-dark chicanery, Sam may as well have driven a flag into my last nerve and declared herself supreme ruler.

I decided to cut right to the chase. I wanted to throw myself to the mercy of my shower and scrub my skin into oblivion. It was a violation unlike anything I’d ever experienced, and I doubted that anything would take that feeling away. I felt helpless. And angry. Furious. I had no ready target to direct my frustration at, so I focused it on the one person I knew could handle it.

Sam gave me a patient look and I knew that she’d been privy to those ugly feelings rearing their hydra-like heads. To my complete surprise, she didn’t admonish me.

Sam’s eyes flicked over to where Bella was holding hands with Dirk.