Endless Knight (Darkling Mage 9)

The two gods looked at each other, then back at me in silence. A few uncomfortable seconds passed before Zeus spoke again.

“We’ll take this into consideration, mortal. But remember: we’re always watching.”

I glared back into Zeus’s eyes. How could I ever forget?

In another flash of lightning, the gods vanished. There was a rush of activity from the others. It felt as if we could finally breathe, like everyone was watching a bomb being defused by an idiot, until the bomb itself decided to walk away.

I turned to Sterling and clapped him on the back. “So. You do care about me, after all.”

He shrugged my hand off, and I flinched as if I’d been struck. He sheathed his katana, staring at me out of the corner of his eye as he walked away.

“You’re not going to die under my watch,” he growled. “But if it comes down to a ritual and a sacrifice, then that’s your call.” Then I heard, as he brought a cigarette to his lips, one last word: “Idiot.”

Herald bumped his shoulder into me, nodding questioningly in Sterling’s direction. “What the hell was that all about?”

I shook my head quickly, hoping he hadn’t heard. “It’s nothing,” I said. “Nothing at all.”

Chapter 19

“You totally lucked out,” Herald said. “I don’t think Sterling even knew that Susanoo’s katana could absorb lightning.”

I sat on his couch, thoroughly exhausted from the events of the night, and from shadowstepping the both of us home – after Royce teleported us back to Californian soil, of course. Herald’s apartment felt so familiar. The citrus smell of his oil diffuser, the oddly rough yet comfortable texture of his fluffy gray couch.

“So you mean Sterling just took a chance?” I didn’t say anything else, but it made the act of putting himself between me and a god-bullet that much more important.

“Something that once belonged to a god can lose its power, the longer it stays away from the deity in question,” Herald said. “You remember how Vanitas fell dormant after we separated him from you the first time? It’s the way attunement works with artifacts, whether their owners are human, or divine. Or anything else, really.”

I chewed on my lip, my heart sinking. “But we need a god’s sword for the ritual as well. I thought – well, I guess I thought that we could count on Susanoo’s katana for that bit.”

Herald shook his head. “No can do. It’s lost some of his power. We need a relic at full strength, totally charged by a god’s touch, whether it’s lent willingly – or whether we take it ourselves.”

I leaned back farther into the couch, sighing as it swallowed me up, rubbing my eyes through my eyelids. “We’ll think of something,” I said. “We always do. Carver will know.”

“We will,” Herald said, squeezing one strong hand on my shoulder, giving me a tight smile. “I’m popping in for a shower, okay? I smell like death. And you go in next. No dirty boys in my bed.”

I rolled my eyes, then chuckled. “Got it, Mom. I’ve stayed over enough times to know the house rules.”

He peeled his shirt over his head, throwing it towards his laundry basket, flexing and preening just a little for my benefit. “I’m heading in now,” he said, his chest puffed out comically. “No peeking.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

In less than a minute the sound of Herald’s shower started up. I really wanted a shower badly as well – I could almost feel the warm water against my muscles. I headed over to the sink, tired, but still wanting to make myself useful. We ate some Chinese leftovers from out of his fridge, but still had to wash up the few dishes we used for dinner, because as Herald chidingly explained, “We’re not animals.”

r /> I turned the faucet, relishing the sound, simplicity, and warmth of streaming water and modern kitchen conveniences. I reached for the first of many plates, my other hand brandishing a sponge like a club, my face grim with determination.

Then a hand reached out through the water.

I dropped both the dish and the sponge back in the sink, giving off a loud yelp as I staggered away. And damn the laws physics to all hell, because another hand followed the first out of the water, until it had dragged arms and limbs and an entire body out of the sink, and therefore the drain. Hecate padded lightly onto the floor, squeezing water out of her hair and her midnight robe.

My hand went over my heart to feel for the manic thump of terror. I shook my head at her. “You’ve got to stop doing this. And how do you pull it off without getting a ton of leftover noodles all over you?”

Hecate tittered, waving a hand across her body, trailing green energy along its expanse. Her clothes immediately went dry, her scraggly hair draining of moisture and transforming into tresses imbued with as much style and volume as something straight out of a salon.

“It’s simple magic, fleshling,” she said. “As for climbing out of the water – we have been enjoying a good many horror movies that you mortals so like to make. Especially ones from Japan. Those are our favorites.”

I glanced up and down her body, at her exceptionally long locks of black hair, her shroud-like gown. Hecate always looked like she’d be at home at a Halloween party anyway, or one of those haunted houses. The horror movies made sense.

“I think you need to cut down on the shock value, Hecate. I don’t even watch horror movies myself. Some people like them for the adrenaline rush, but I’m not some people.”