“You’re not worried that’s him upstairs, trying to breach the gates and rescue the princess?”
“If he’s strong enough to cause such a ruckus I can feel it down here, he’s recovered enough to kill me.” As I said it, it dawned on me how much it should piss off Ithas to learn that.“From the fascinating backstory Ithas has been regaling me with, I’m shocked he would allow Dis Pater to lay a finger on me.”
“He’s already killed you once,” Ankou reminded me around his snack.
“That was toevolveme.” I grumbled under my breath when I realized he had lured me back into looking at him, talking to him. “I don’t know much about Titans, or demititans, but the next death feels like it would be permanent. Ithas is patting himself on the back so hard he’s in danger of breaking an arm, so I doubt he’s on board with Dis Pater’s plan to re-murder me.” I felt a smile form and turn mean. “He doesn’t know, does he? He may be all powerful in Abaddon, but he’s limited in my world. He can barely manifest there. Dis Pater doesn’t face those limitations. I bet there’s a lot Dis Pater does that Ithas doesn’t know.”
“Dis Pater has as much say in your continued existence as Ithas. Dinorah is his, after all.”
Another truth hit me between the eyes. Dis Pater was confident in loaning Dinorah to Ithas because he knew the Titan, who couldn’t manifest a body to wield the sword, wasn’t a threat as long as he avoided Abaddon. Which was easily done after he set himself up so neatly in the human world. But the loan also gave him a sense of entitlement toward me that was bad for my health.
“Does Ithas know Dis Pater got impatient and killed me himself?”
I had thought it was out of curiosity at the time, and that might still be true. Just not the kind I first imagined. Until I became a demigoddess, assuming I survived the transition, he had no idea how solid the return on his investment would prove. Given my extra time to mature, he had run out of patience.
“Ithas cares more for perfection than Dis Pater.” He dusted off his hands. “Dis Pater is more interested in functionality. As long as you can do what you’re supposed to do, he’s happy. Ithas is more particular.”
“How can you live with yourself?” I glanced at Anunit, who was resting her head on her paws, eyes shut. “How can you see her and feel anything but disgusted with yourself for your part in the desecration of her daughter?” I looked back at him. “I always knew I was different. Strange. But I’m an abomination.”
“You’re still you, Bijou.” His eyes softened with pity that made me want to poke them out. “The person you are hasn’t changed. You just understand yourself better now. You grasp your divine purpose.”
“Divine purpose, huh?” As well as I had known Armie, or thought I did, I couldn’t decide if Ankou was mocking me. “Dis Pater wants me to act as a conduit to feed him power until he’s the Supreme Death Being or whatever idiotic title he’s dreamed up for himself.”
“Who does it hurt? The Alcheyvaha are already dead.”
With Anunit crumpled behind me, he could damn well see who it hurt. Maybe that was the true reason for the visit. To taste her pain and savor the percussive blast of her grief. The longer he stirred the pot, the richer his supper. I had to remember that.
“Do you think, when this is over, and Dis Pater has harnessed as much energy as his skin will contain?—”
“—gods don’t have skin, per se?—”
“What’s to stop Dis Pater from killing Ithas with Dinorah when he no longer needs him?”
“Dinorah can’t kill Ithas. He’s worked up his immunity to its powers over the centuries by nicking himself every now and then.” He frowned. “I’m not entirely sure that was his original intention. He does get lost in his work. It’s just as likely, beinga beacon of chaos, the first cut was accidental and inspired the whole side experiment.”
This was getting me nowhere fast. Ankou knew me too well to slip up and blab any secrets. No. I stood a better chance with Ithas, who still viewed me as a novelty. He was more likely to be coaxed into chatting about his grand designs, as he had already proven the lack of company down here meant he was soaking up having a captive audience to regale with tales of his brilliance.
“I’m going to nap.” I curled up next to Anunit. “See you when I see you.”
“You’ll see me when you wake,” he promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Sleep wasn’t happening with him watching over my shoulder, but I shut my eyes and wished that I could be sure Josie, Harrow, and Carter were safe. All I could do was pray and stare into the darkness behind my eyelids while I hoped for the best.
A coarse swipeover my cheek snapped my eyes open, and I jolted upright in surprise to find I had fallen asleep at some point. Ithas hadn’t come back, and with Ankou retreated to the shadows, I was granted the illusion of privacy. Stomach cramping, afraid of what I would find in her eyes, I gazed at Anunit. “I’m so sorry.”
Hooking a paw across my middle, she drew me flush against her side. “This is not your fault.”
“I know, but I’m still sorry.” I rested my forehead against hers. “I had no idea.”
“Neither did I.” Her whiskers twitched, tickling my cheek. “I should have known a part of her was out in the world. I should have sensed it. I should have found her and brought her home.”
“Ithas has his workshop in Abaddon, and your soul is tied to the burial grounds on my world. That’s why you didn’t sense her.” I straightened when a deep rumble set the chandelier swaying above us. “He made it sound like he was using the children as incubators for the bone fragment, so he might have kept them in Abaddon to monitor. I’m not sure why he dumped me at St. Mary’s, unless he decided early on I had a better chance of success than my predecessors.”
Since he allowed me to grow up, maybe I was part social experiment too. Or, if Dis Pater believed I was The One, he might have wanted to keep an eye on me too. The only way for that to happen was if I was on Earth. St. Mary’s Home for Children was, perhaps, a compromise.
Placing me there prevented me from imprinting on either of them, since I was raised by neither of them. An orphanage removed both of them from the equation until the time was right to kill me. From that point on, I wasn’t sure what the plan had been or where Kierce fit in.
But I did view his torching of St. Mary’s in a new light.
