Soul Fire (Darkling Mage 8)

“I’m only worried about you,” Madam Chien said.

“But you’re right. This affects all of us. I will let you know if I learn anything about the Beasts. Or the witch called Agatha Black.”

“Thank you, Grandma,” Prudence said. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

We helped Madam Chien close up shop, then were quickly rebuffed when we offered to accompany her home. She ambled off into the darkness alone. Muggers probably had way more to fear from her than the other way around. Prudence could break a man’s head open with one punch. Who knew what Madam Chien was capable of?

Prudence’s choice was Hecate, too. “It won’t be as dangerous as the first time, because she likes you now or something. Doesn’t she?”

I shrugged. “I guess. It’s just – I really haven’t heard from her in forever. And you know how she is, it’s like her mood changes depending on how the wind blows.”

Romira tapped at her phone. “It says here that she likes black ewes and dogs for sacrifices. Also honey.” She huffed. “Where are we supposed to find a dog to sacrifice this time of night?”

“No,” Bastion barked. “Not this shit again. We are not killing a puppy. Or a baby lamb.”

“Perhaps you won’t need to,” said a voice from the sidewalk.

The four of us started at the sound of it, Prudence’s fingers already crackling with pale blue fire. The voice had come from a sphere of golden light. I curled my fist, readying a fireball. Beside me, Romira was cupping her own handful of flame, and Bastion was already murmuring a spell in preparation. Mammon was back, and he was looking for a fight.

“Whoa, hey now,” the voice said. “There’s no need to get violent.”

Wait. That wasn’t Mammon’s voice, the velvet, sometimes sneering, sometimes simpering tones of the demon prince of greed. This voice was much more melodic and relaxed, like someone who could be a friend. No – like someone who could be a bro.

The light flickered, then began to fade, revealing the entity hidden behind the golden aura. There, wearing sun-kissed skin and white linen, like he’d just stepped off a yacht, stood the god of the sun. Beside him was his gaudy golden car, its engine gently rumbling.

“It’s just me,” the entity said, his smile lighting up the night – literally. “Your good friend Apollo.”

Chapter 11

Apollo smoothed his hair back and grinned, his teeth sparkling pearly and white. His other hand went down to the unbuttoned front of his shirt, drawing attention to his tanned torso.

“Well, hello, ladies.”

“Back off,” Romira huffed, clutching Prudence’s wrist. “We’re both taken.”

Apollo groaned dramatically. “A pity, that. I do so love human women. Especially the very pretty ones.”

Romira harrumphed, flipping her hair, but I caught the traces of a flattered smile on her lips.

“Who the hell wears sandals at night?” Bastion muttered near my ear.

“Will you shut up?” I muttered back.

“So,” Apollo said. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the pointless small talk – Dustin Graves, you owe me a favor.”

All necks craned towards me, which made it an especially unfortunate time for me to gulp.

“I’m not sure what you mean, exactly,” I said. “Care to refresh my memory?”

Apollo chuckled. “Very cheeky of you. I helped put in a good word for you with my sister, remember? Artemis wouldn’t talk to you about your little dog, so I volunteered to commune with her in your place. Get her attention.”

“Right,” I said hesitantly.

“And now it’s time for you to return the favor. Interestingly, there might be something in it for you as well.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Then I’ll lay it out for you straight.” Apollo’s posture straightened, the loose, lax frat bro melting away, leaving only a god, serious, resolute. “Your meeting with Artemis had its consequences. I was aware of the risks going in, but I never quite thought it would go so badly. Artemis has been excommunicated from the Midnight Convocation.”