“This is where you grew up?” Thea asks, peering up at the unassuming structure with its gray walls and vaulted blue roof.
“Wherewegrew up,” Everett corrects quietly, and Thea’s expression twists.
It’s still goddamn insane to realize that we grew up with Thea. Knew her. Cared for her. Probably loved her, if I’m being completely honest. Yet all of those memories were stolen from us. Was it the sleep that caused it? Ares? The god or goddess behind this entire fucked-up situation?
I want answers.
And blood.
Do gods bleed red like the humans and supernaturals they look after? Or is their blood golden? Silver? Black?
I’m certain I’ll find out.
“Remember, we don’t know if Ares knows anything about what happened to Thea,” Zaid says, obviously trying to think the best of his “daddy.”
“But if he does…” I warn.
I need Zaid to be okay with what I’m about to do. I need them all to be okay with it.
A bloated storm cloud ripples across Zaid’s face, darkening his features. “Then we take care of him.”
A smile tugs up my lips instinctively. I fucking love it when my brothers embrace their dark sides. They’re just as twisted as me sometimes, though they’ll never admit it.
“Krystian, put the glamour on Thea,” Everett instructs.
Krystian salutes the shifter and then turns towards our reaper. He concentrates for a long moment, his eyebrows drawn together, before he nods and turns away.
“Done.” A cold smile unfurls on the elf’s face—one of the many indications that Krys is present as well.
Krystian would be a little more hesitant about spilling a god’s blood, but Krys? He’ll relish the opportunity, especially if the bastard hurt our girl. Krystian finally came to terms with who he is—whathe is—and we have Thea to thank for that.
She saved him, just like she saved the rest of us, and now we’ll burn the world down if that’s what it takes to keep her safe.
“So it’ll be like it was with Aphrodite? You guys will be able to hear and see me, but Ares won’t?” Thea asks.
“That’s the plan,” Krystian says.
“But what if it fails like it did in the Underworld?” She nibbles on her lower lip.
“It won’t,” Krystian assures her. “I should’ve taken into account that the magic down there is different from up here. Weaker. But my glamour will hold up perfectly, at least for a couple of hours.”
“Let’s go,” I snarl, anger flooding my veins, dark and caustic.
I want to rip Ares apart limb from limb.
Gouge his eyes out.
Slice off his tongue.
Castrate him.
The list is endless.
I try to remind myself that Zaid is right—he could be innocent in this mess—but my gut says something different. And I’ve learned to always trust my intuition.
After all, it’s what declared Thea as mine from the very first meeting.
I kick open the door and stalk forward, trembles reverberating through my body.
