“What were you fighting when I got there?” Mira pulled her braid over her shoulder and fiddled with the end of it. “InHell, what was that charcoal briquette thing with lava instead of blood?”
“I dunno.”
The incredulous look she gave him surprised a snort out of me.
“What?” he grumbled. “I don’t know everything.”
“What did it look like?” I asked. After she described it, I nodded. “Cherufe. Chilean volcano demon. How did you kill it, Kerry?”
“Cut its head off.” He shrugged.
“Just so you know, that wouldn’t have been possible anywhere else. A sword, even one made of pure power, would melt on contact. Only Children of the Sun can freeze it, not even kill it, with a sword. And we’re a long way from Peru.” The corners of my mouth kicked up.
“What’re Children of the Sun?” He took his eyes off traffic long enough to meet mine.
“Descendants of the Incas who can trace their lineage back to royalty. I read an article a few months ago about human researchers using DNA to map patrilineal bloodlines. They’ve found a high concentration around Lake Titicaca, which is interesting because of the myth that the Incas originated there.”
Realizing I’d gone into history-lecture mode, I clamped my lips together.
“Lake what?” Mira’s voice was full of amusement. “What-caca?”
“Never mind.”
She elbowed me in the ribs, and I gave her my meanest look.
It made her laugh.
“Tell me about Valhalla, Kerry,” I said.
“Wow. What a subtle subject change, Sir Serious.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna ignore whatever you two got going on,” Kerry said. “Never been to Valhalla, but the Huskarls manifest old-school weapons when they fight. Axes and spears and stuff.”
“Maybe we’ll get to see that if Titus and Josef can get their leader to agree to help us.”
He looked perplexed for a second, then burst out laughing.
“Sorry. I shoulda explained. You just met the leader of Valhalla’s Huskarls. He’s called theDrott. It means warlord or something like that in some ancient language.”
“I’m surprised by how young he was,” Jax spoke up from the back seat. “Titus didn’t look much more than twenty-five, although it’s always tough to guess with any nephilim after high school.”
For the third time in ten minutes, Kerry had a dumbfounded look on his face.
“Huh.” He shifted lanes and sped around a bus. “Gemma tried to explain the concept of stereotypes a few weeks ago. I think I finally get it. Yeah. That’s what this is, right? Stereotyping?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Titus isn’t theDrott.” A compact car cut us off with less than an inch between our bumpers, and he paused to blast the horn. “Josef is. Titus is his second.”
“That’s— Yeah, that’s— I mean, that’s—” Jax gave up.
“Crazy.” Mira shook her head. “That would be like Travis leading us and you as his second.”
“Not really,” I said. “A muse can send the Diabolical into a panic with one word. With a song, he can kill anything from a monstrosity down. No weapons. Just his voice.”
“Wow. Then it’s a good thing Josef’s our ally!” Her wide eyes flew up to mine.
“Yes.” I smiled. “We can always use allies.”
