Twisted (Burbank and Parker 1)

Sloane forced herself not to flinch, but instead continued eating her soup. “So the lesser goddesses will precede us?”

“Yes.”

Putting down her soup spoon, Sloane’s brow furrowed. “I know of six, excluding myself.”

“There are seven.”

“Followed by me.”

“You, and then me. As the last to ascend, I will perform the sacred and sacrificial rites on myself. I’ll have to forgo some of the ceremonial incisions, since I need to ensure my own passing. But I’m well equipped. I’ve been preparing for this for over a year. Last will come our funeral pyre. In a blaze of glory, any remnants of our earthly existence will be consumed in a towering inferno.”

Inferno? Sloane began choking down her sandwich. Her stomach was tied up in knots, but she needed some nourishment. “Like a pillar of fire? How will we manage that, if we’ve all ascended?”

“Timer. It will ignite the funeral pyre in perfect synchronization with the culmination of our ceremony.”

He planted an incendiary device. Shit.

“It sounds like an exalted experience worthy of Gaia.” Sloane forced out the words, hoping her food wouldn’t come up at the same time.

Luke actually smiled—no, beamed. “I knew you’d understand. I knew it. The others would be afraid, but not you. You know I’d never do anything that wouldn’t bring you the ultimate joy. This is salvation, not death.”

“I understand.” Sloane put down her sandwich. “Would you describe Mount Olympus to me?”

She barely listened as he launched into an elaborate description of opulent buildings and marble walkways. She was too busy figuring out the details of her plan.

He’d given her a golden opportunity.

She wasn’t going to blow it.

“You’re very quiet,” he observed, watching her closely.

Clearly, he’d finished speaking and she wasn’t responding to his satisfaction.

“Forgive me. It’s just that I’m taking in a great deal at once.” Sloane put down her sandwich and gave him a wistful smile. “It’s hard to imagine a place so beautiful, or accept th

at I’m worthy of living there.”

His utopian mood returned. “You are. As for taking it all in, I understand. I’ve had years to visualize Mount Olympus. You’re first learning about it.” Abruptly, he fell silent, staring at the floor and chewing his lip as if contemplating whether or not to say something.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Sloane urged softly. “We’ve always had such ease between us.”

A faint smile. “That’s precisely what I was thinking about. How right it feels to share all this with you. How I knew from the first moment I saw you that it would be this way. You were different from the others. You were pure of heart, kind and decent and good. Together, we stopped victims from suffering, brought families together. I remember thinking what a cruel and ugly place this world has become, and how someone like you deserved so much better. You deserved to be worshipped, and to always be surrounded by beauty.”

“I was awed by your selflessness and your sensitivity that day,” Sloane heard herself say. “Especially with the children. I’ve never seen anyone so kind and gentle. You really did seem godlike.” There was irony in her statement, but there was also truth. Luke had been amazing. How he could be such a dual personality was a complete mystery to her.

His next words came as a total surprise. “You’re thinking about all the things I’ve done—not with the goddesses, but with the whores. And you’re wondering at the paradox.”

It was a statement, not a question. So Sloane responded truthfully, qualifying her answer with a nonjudgmental, open-ended question. “Yes. And I’d really like to understand. Can you help me do that?”

He sighed, and his shoulders drooped. “I’ve sought absolution from the gods for my weakness. There was no excuse for my succumbing to the base and sinful needs of mortal men. My only excuse is that the demons wouldn’t relent. They pounded at my brain day and night, until I did as they commanded. I’m ashamed of giving in. But the remainder of my actions? The utter obliteration of those whores’ filth and immorality, that was my mission. It was bestowed upon me by the gods.”

Sloane watched him as he spoke. He was truly ashamed of his sex acts, but he truly believed that he’d been empowered by some supreme beings to desecrate those poor Asian women, slash them into nonexistence.

It was mind-boggling.

“So you were doing as the gods commanded,” she paraphrased.

“Yes. But also as I commanded. I did it for me. And for Gaia.”