“You’re going to take me to Verulamium. I know it’s important, and you’re going to take me.”
“Nay, I’m no’.”
She pushed the blade harder, glancing down at it apprehensively before glaring back up at him. It didn’t break the skin, but it was close.
“You are, or I swear to God I’m going by myself.”
“And how would do that?”
“Steal your car. Call your boss. Walk out the front door and hope for the best. I’d figure it out.”
She was bluffing. That was it. But her eyes gleamed with a slightly crazed, desperate look. He shifted uncomfortably. The lassie was trouble. “You would no’.”
“Try me. I’m not going to sit around here while you hide things from me. And don’t think I’m not aware that’s what you’re doing. That’s twice you’ve refused to take me, and twice I’ve found something that points me in the direction of the first century AD. I’d bet tenure on the fact that I was a Celt, but there were a hell of a lot of Celts. I want to know why I’m drawn to a Roman fort.”
“Well, you weren’t Roman.”
“Don’t try to distract me. Why are you keeping things from me? Are you on my side or not?”
He’d have been angry that she questioned his loyalty if he wasn’t already burning with the deceit. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
He knocked the dull-edged sword aside and pulled her to him. She was delicate under his hands and it made his stomach churn with fear for her. “Do you no’ get it? That’s the most important thing. Keeping you safe.”
“I get that.” Her breath was short, her eyes wide. “And I appreciate it. I do. But it can’t be at the expense of me making my own decisions. If we’re careful getting there, then the demons won’t know to follow us. I don’t have a death wish. But I do want answers and this sword and Verulamium are the closest I’ve come to getting them.”
“Fine,” he said. There was no way around it now. “I’ll take you if I can get my colleague Esha to create a portal to take us directly there. That way the demons canna track us. It’s the safest way. Her power level fluctuates. If she doesn’t have enough, we wait. I won’t risk you over this.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Esha stared at the text on her phone, puzzling ove
r the note from Warren.
“A meeting?” she said to the cat, not particularly concerned that he was paying her absolutely no attention. “Warren wants to have a meeting with me? Like, we’re trying to nail down the problems with the budget before the end of the quarter type meeting?”
Too weird. No one ever asked her to a group gathering, and his message had specifically said join us in a meeting. Her job never involved meetings, primarily because fueling her own power meant taking it from the souls of others. Not that she could help it, but still, they didn’t like it.
Despite her flaws—which she didn’t actually agree were flaws—the university had given her a place to live and a pretty nice salary when they’d figured out the extent of her power. She could manifest her every desire, so long as she was fueled up on borrowed power. Once she’d proven herself trustworthy, her unique ability to see true evil had given her a carte blanche license to kill the super baddies whenever she came across them.
She’d initially thought that Warren avoided her because of the way she refueled her power. But then she’d realized that she didn’t affect him. Now she had no idea why he avoided her. He was the only Mythean she’d ever met who wasn’t affected by her powers. She could actually get close to him. It was probably half the reason she was interested in him. Hell, who was she kidding? She’d probably be mooning after him no matter what.
Frowning, she glanced down at the text message. It must be about Erebus, though she was surprised he hadn’t texted her the news to avoid having to see her.
“Well, Chairman, it looks like we’re going to our first-ever business meeting.”
With disgust, she suppressed the thrill of delight she felt at being asked—by Warren—to come to the meeting.
Idiot.
An hour later, Esha strode through the open door of Warren’s office. He and an unknown woman sat at the small round table in the corner.
“So, what’s up?” she asked as she walked over to the table.
Warren stood to greet her, but rather than shake her hand, he gestured toward the woman. “Esha, this is Aerten. She’s a goddess of fate and head of the Praesidium.”
Whoa. Goddess was right. Esha reeled from the hit of power she got off Aerten. It felt like the hit she got off her only friend Andrasta, the Celtic goddess of war. She didn’t get to see her much, but when she did, boy, was it something.
Esha smiled somewhat drunkenly at the serene figure who’d also risen to greet her. “Hi,” she said, holding out her hand. “Celtic, right?”