Grave Intentions (Darkling Mage 3)

“I can always order more.” Amaterasu sniffed, staring down the end of her nose at Herald. “You. Why have you seen fit to consort with – with that thing?” She folded her arms and raised her head. “Did you say your name was Igarashi? Then we share common roots. Where do your loyalties lie?”

“I,” Herald started. “Um.”

I put up my hands in placation. “Whoa. Hey. It’s the twenty-first century. So not progressive. It’s not about that.”

“You don’t get to talk about progress, shadow beast. As much as your master vouched for you, you’ve inevitably proven yourself a force for destruction. An agent for chaos.”

Ah. Yes. That old story. The last I’d seen of Amaterasu, I’d visited with Carver. Having him around as a supernatural social buffer meant that she was at least a little more restrained about wanting to chop my head off. There was also this unfortunate incident, that time when I’d accidentally shattered one of her enchanted mirrors. Shush. It was totally accidental. It slipped out of my fingers, and Bastion broke it. You were there, you saw.

“Look,” I said. “Is this about the mirror? Because I’m sorry that happened. Even though it technically wasn’t my fault.”

Herald cleared his throat noisily. “Um. Dust.”

“Am I wrong, though? The mirror slipped from my grasp. Bastion was the one who smashed it.” I rubbed the back of my neck, giving Amaterasu a piteous look. She wasn’t having it.

“The point here,” she said slowly, “is that you destroyed something of mine. Something that was freely given for you to use for the sake of good.”

“But you can always make more, right?”

My teeth clamped down on my tongue just as soon as I’d said the words. Herald groaned. Carver could teach me to make fire, to nuke planets and move the stars, but fuck if he could teach me any kind of impulse control.

“You enter my domicile unbidden, uninvited, and think to insult me.” The room was getting warmer by the second. The same could be said of Amaterasu’s sword, which glowed white-hot, then burst into flames.

“Good job, Dust,” Herald muttered. I shrugged apologetically, an empty, pointless gesture, sure, but I had a feeling Amaterasu would take my tongue if I dared to talk again.

“And worse still,” Amaterasu continued, “is that you’ve come to my home carrying your tainted blade.”

Vanitas. Oh shit. I lifted him up, along with my other hand, gesticulating wildly. “This? It’s nothing. Just bronze.”

“You dare to bring the pollution of the Old Ones with you into my home once more.” She lifted her head back, sniffed at the air, then scoffed with some measure of triumph. “I smell the stink of demons about you, too.” Amaterasu raised her sword, pointing at my heart. “I am not known for brutality and savagery, but for all your breaches of etiquette, you must be punished.”

The sole of Herald’s boot clacked across the

floor as he stepped forward, making himself a human barrier between me and Amaterasu’s extremely pointy and extremely fiery sword.

“Offense was not meant, oh Radiant One. Please understand,” he said, flinging his hand in my direction, pointing in my face, “this one is unworthy, unlearned in the graces of divinity.”

“Hey,” I said, somehow finding the gall to be offended.

“You shut up,” Herald growled through gritted teeth. “Let me handle this and shut the fuck up.”

But before Herald could speak again, the crisp blue sky over the crystalline walls of Amaterasu’s chamber split with a blinding white flash. A tower of lightning speared the ground just feet away from the goddess’s dais, leaving in its place not a scorch mark, but a young man.

His hair was swept up into ostentatious waves and spikes, like the electricity had done most of the styling for him. He wore ripped jeans and snazzy sneakers, and went bare-chested under his leather vest. The man could have easily passed Sterling’s very specific and very impractical guidelines for fashion, but something told me that he wasn’t a vampire. I mean, obviously. We were in a sun goddess’s realm, after all.

Light glinted off the man’s sunglasses. When he grinned, even his teeth seemed to sparkle, the very paragon of youthful arrogance that Bastion could only hope to be. He took his shades off, pushing them into his hair, and his eyes crackled with little sparks of electricity.

“Sorry I’m late, sis,” he drawled.

“Brother,” Amaterasu said, her gaze still unflinchingly settled on my face. “Good of you to join us.”

“Shit,” Herald whispered. “Shit shit shit.”

Shit was right. This guy was the reason Amaterasu hid in a cave in that one ancient story out of myth.

The man raised an eyebrow as he cast an appraising glance over us. “I didn’t think you were expecting guests.”

Amaterasu’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t expecting them either. Perhaps you’ll join me in welcoming them.”