Cinn had only a second to recognize Airmid’s voice, realize she’d made a basic mistake in closing the bathroom door, and shout for help.

Airmid grabbed Cinn a moment before the door crashed open and Edge stood looking around. Cinn yelled at him, but he just cursed and rushed from the room.

“Good try, but he can’t hear or see you. I do have some useful powers.”

Cinn fought to free herself from the lock the goddess had on her arm, but her wild swings and kicks somehow didn’t connect with Airmid.

“Don’t waste your energy. You can’t touch me.”

Then with seemingly no effort at all, she dragged Cinn out into the bedroom and over to where Vince sat helpless on the coffee table. Asima had evidently rushed from the room with Edge to look for Cinn.

“We’ll take this little guy with us.”

The goddess scooped up Vince and then suddenly they were all somewhere else.

Cinn looked around her. Damn. As far as she could see were plants and more plants. Not in rows, but scattered all the way to the horizon. Cinn had a problem with this scene, though. When she looked down, she saw… clouds. “Where are we?”

“In one of my newer gardens. I’ll fill in the rest of the landscape later.” Still clasping Cinn’s arm and carrying Vince, she strolled off across the clouds.

Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming this. Cinn’s mantra got more frantic with each minute. We’re in deep shit, Vince.

“I know.”

The two words sucked Cinn’s breath from her throat. Vince? He’d finally talked to her. Too bad she couldn’t take time to enjoy the moment. “Where are we going?” What are you going to do with us?

“We’re going to my home where we can relax and talk.”

They might talk, but no way was she going to be able to relax. She glanced down. Whoa, the clouds beneath her feet had been replaced with a stone path leading up to…

Her gaze traced the path to a home covered in vines and surrounded by thick greenery. Sunlight created patterns of shadow and light as it shone through a canopy of ancient trees. Okay, this wasn’t exactly Cinn’s vision of Mount Olympus, but she supposed it was right for Airmid.

The goddess dragged her through the front door and into what looked like Cinn’s Aunt Theresa’s old house. Small rooms stuffed with dark furniture and littered with what must be antiques. Cinn wasn’t an antiquey kind of person. She liked bright airy spaces filled with new things untouched by human hands.

Plants sat on every flat surface. The goddess set Vince down on a table next to a beautiful but uncomfortable-looking chair. Cinn’s Aunt Theresa would’ve known what century the chair came from.

Airmid finally released her and pointed to another chair. “Sit.”