Page 19 of Gods of Prey
I roll my eyes. “Spare me the philosophical remarks.”
“Speaking of philosophy,” Revel continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “We need to follow them to Lancaster Tech. See what we’re dealing with in terms of security and access.”
“Already planning a break-in?” I raise an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem very godly of you.”
“Says the Goddess of Death who’s currently haunting a coffee shop.” He stands, leaving cash on the table.
As we leave the coffee shop, I catch a glance at the retreating forms of Sebastian and Jovie, already taking a turn halfway down the block. My twin, the God of Life, now a mortal billionaire with no memory of who he truly is. And I, the Goddess of Death, reduced to a ghost trailing after him once again.
The irony isn’t lost on me: Death herself trying desperately to save Life from his own foolish heart.
6
Sienna
Ifollow Bash and Jovie through the gleaming glass doors of Lancaster Tech, gliding silently behind him like the phantom I now am. The security guard doesn’t flinch as I pass. I’m nothing but air once again. Revel will hang back until Sebastian is gone, then use his divine essence to manifest an employee key card.
My brother strides confidently through the lobby with his wife beside him, nodding at employees who greet him with reverence bordering on fear. They see their billionaire CEO, not the divine being who once breathed life into newborn stars.
“Good morning, Mr. Lancaster,” chirps his assistant, an older woman with plump hips and round cheeks who is handing him a sleek tablet. “The board is waiting in the conference room.”
Bash takes it without breaking stride. “Tell them five minutes, Diane.”
He places a soft kiss on Jovie’s cheek before she breaks left, her hip sashaying as she heads toward her own office.
I hover at his shoulder, studying his face. Even in this mortal form, we share the same features—high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, the slight dimple in our left cheeks when we smile. Except Bash rarely smiles anymore. Not like he used to in Aurelys, where his laughter would cause flowers to bloom spontaneously.
“You look exhausted,” I whisper, knowing he can’t hear me. “Is she worth all this?”
He pauses mid-step, frowning slightly, and for a heart-stopping moment, I wonder if he sensed me. But he only adjusts his tie before continuing toward his office. I follow closely behind, just as I had always done before.
It’s exactly what I’d expect, a near replica of his office in New York. Minimalist, pristine, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Seattle’s skyline. Rain trails down the glass like tears. I press my translucent hand against the cold surface, remembering our last life together with painful clarity.
Of all the lives we’ve endured, this one remains the most vivid. This death has left the deepest mark. Perhaps because it’s the most recent. Perhaps because it’s the one that broke my brother.
“You didn’t come back,” I murmur, watching Bash review documents on his computer. “You were supposed to return to Aurelys, but you couldn’t leave her.”
Of course, he doesn’t hear me. He grabs a manila file from the filing cabinet in the corner, then turns back on his heel and out the office door. I linger in my spot, though unsure what else to do. I have no interest in listening to his board meeting, that’s for sure.
My attention drifts to the single framed photo on his otherwise empty desk—Bash and Jovie laughing on a ferry, the Seattle wind tousling her hair. She’s in her wedding dress and he’s in a formal tuxedo. I’ve never seen him look at anyone theway he looks at her. Not in all our mortal lifetimes, not in eons before our punishment.
My ghostly fingers pass through the frame as I try to touch it. Frustration bubbles up, hot and familiar. Being dead is annoying enough. Being a goddess trapped in spirit form is downright insulting.
“Trouble in paradise?” Revel’s voice startles me.
I turn to find him leaning against the doorframe, mouth turned up in a cocky grin. His presence in the mortal realm is irritating.
“Shouldn’t you be hunting for clues or something useful?” I snap.
Revel smirks, pushing off the doorframe to join me by the window. “Already ahead of you. Let’s go back to our apartment to discuss.”
“Ourapartment?” I arch an eyebrow. “There is no ‘our.’ You’re taking the apartment. I’m...haunting it.”
“Semantics.” He shrugs, studying the photo on his desk. “He really doesn’t remember, does he?”
I cross my arms. “Not a thing. He’s completely Bash Lancaster now. Billionaire tech genius with a god complex.” I huff out a laugh. “Ironic, considering.”
Revel doesn’t find my little joke to be funny. Instead, he points to the second person in the photo. “And the girl? Jovie?”
