Page 47 of Gods of Prey
“You’re sure about this?” I ask, floating closer.
Jovie nods, setting down her mug. “He’s one of them. Gregory Voss. He was at the periphery of the explosion, but managed to escape with minor burns. He’s been hiding in Seattle for months.”
“And Bash doesn’t know?”
“No.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been tracking him myself. He’s been so focused on the higher members, he hasn’t noticed this one.”
I followed her for days to find answers, the way Revel and I agreed I would. But following quickly turned into materializing, and then we got to talking.
She’s confused and in over her head. She senses something is off about Bash, but has no clue how deep this goes. And while I love to push Revel’s buttons and remain one step ahead of him, I think he’s right about this. Telling either of them the truth before they’re ready to hear it could end in disaster. Based on their behavior surrounding him, they’re both clearly not thinking straight anymore. So I’ve danced around the subject and gotten as much intel as possible.
To my surprise, Jovie has been quite busy trying to set the God of Life up on another killing spree.
“He thinks I don’t notice how badly he wants to kill again,” she adds into her lap.
I smile despite myself. Mortals constantly surprise me with their resourcefulness. “And you want to...what? Gift-wrap him for my brother?”
“Something like that.” Jovie stands, moving to the kitchen counter where a laptop displays a grainy security image of a middle-aged man entering a parking garage. “Bash has been on his best behavior here. I know he wants to start retaliating again, but with most of the order gone and these guys not really making any waves, he doesn’t feel justified.”
“But you do...” It’s meant as a question, though it comes out as more of a statement.
What is it about mortals that makes them think they can play gods? It seems that every being possesses some deep intrinsic need to destroy itself.
Jovie shakes her head. “I’m not super comfortable with all of it yet, but I know he’s been fighting the urges since we left New York. Killing is a part of who he is.” She glances toward me, then settles her gaze back on her coffee. “You remember that, right?”
I wish I could tell her how wrong she is about us. Killing is the exact opposite of who my brother is. The very idea of the God of Life ripping souls away from their body before their time makesme tremble. Guiding souls out of the realm ismyjob. I’m the fearsome reaper chasing after loved ones. Sebastian is supposed to be sending them in with pure love and care.
It’s partially my fault. I’ve sat complacent for too long, watching him exact revenge for my mortal death with a giddy smile on my face becausefinallysomeone gave a shit. Finally all the trauma that I’m forced to endure with every mortal death was being acknowledged. What difference did it make to end a few mortals contracts early? I’d return to Umbraeth and forge the numbers myself.
To hell with the Divine Council and their ridiculous punishments. I’m done bowing down to them.
But ever the overachiever, Bash took it a step too far. As he always does. He didn’t just ignore mortal contacts, he altered entire timelines. He grabbed hold of the shackles on his back and tore them to shreds. Myelle, the Fates, me—none of us were considered as he fused together timelines to get Jovie back.
She’s still wearing my necklace that holds a small shred of Death magic. I can feel my divinity calling for me every time I’m near, and I think she senses it as well. I just don’t know how to bring it up without uncovering too much. If the wrong people discover what I’ve done, it won’t matter how quickly we bring Sebastian back or how important the balance is. The Divine Council will destroy me on the spot for my crimes.
The worst part is that Sebastian is the only one I can talk to about it, and he’s lost all sense of who he is. I wish I could open his eyes and demand answers for why he thought it was okay to hand over such a powerful token to a mortal woman. I don’t care how much he loves her. We agreed that in the lives where I die first, it’s his job to hide the locket until we return.
I can’t tell Revel about it, either. Not when he has no concept of what it is to love and be loved. I’m already pushing him past his limits with this compromise. If he discovers any moreabout how reckless we were, he’ll drag us both before the Divine Council and let them destroy us on the spot simply to rid himself of the headache. And my spineless brother will claim amnesia and skirt all responsibility over it.
Erebus is even worse.
Telling Jovie will probably shatter her mortal brain. She needs more time to ease into these affairs.
There’s no one else.
So I’m forced to stand here as nothing more than the dead sister in hopes that I’ll be able to steal enough time with my brother to get through to him and demand answers before our entire world collapses.
Starting with helping his mortal wife serve a grown man to him on a silver platter to slaughter.
She takes my silence as confirmation and continues on. “Voss works night security at the Westlake Tower. He’s alone in the security office from two to six a.m.”
“Smart,” I murmur. “Hide in plain sight.”
“I need your help.” She turns to face me, her expression serious. “I can get in, but I need someone watching my back. Someone invisible.”
I drift closer, studying the plans she’s pulled up on her screen. “This is dangerous, Jovie. If Bash finds out?—”
“He won’t,” she interrupts. “Not until we have Voss secured.”
