Page 33 of Invoking Ruin

The unspoken words hang in the air: Back when I thought I knew who you were.

I purse my lips and nod. “We should get going. I know you’ll want to sit and have coffee.” No self-respecting Italian cafe was going to serve anything in a to-go cup. The time spent hanging around drinking was time wasted, time when the others may catch up with us. But I want him to be comfortable, even so.

So weak and foolish. If he ever really figures out what happened to him and who I am, I’ll be in real trouble.

Forget Nyx, Momus, the Moirai, even my mother.

It’s Sandro, and the god inside him, who could so easily undo everything.

I take the dirty clothes and the washcloth I used on his head wound last night and shove it all in the duffel. The hotel might be angry at the missing linens, but at least they won’t be wondering why whoever stayed in this room bleeds gold.

Besides, I convinced the man at the front desk not only to look the other way at Dionysus’s injuries, but also to give us the room for free. A stolen wash cloth is nothing compared to that.

He does up the shirt buttons with quick efficiency before pulling on the shoes I brought him. Then, he plucks at the shirt and rolls up his sleeves, distracting me for a moment with his golden skin and the taut muscle along his arms.

“These fit me perfectly.” It’s more accusation than observation.

I flip my hair over my shoulder. “They do, don’t they?”

He doesn’t need an answer right now, especially if it means he’ll fight me.

Before he can think of a new question to ask, I grab his hand. “Come.”

I use my influence to aid in check-out, as well. The woman behind the counter is different, but she’s just as easily convinced to not ask questions as I hand over the room key and no money.

Once we’re out on the street, Dionysus is frowning at me. “How you talked to the clerks at the front desk… is that your power? Or is it a power all of us have?”

More questions. Lovely.

“Mine.”

“So you what, persuade people?” He frowns. “Does it only work on humans?”

“Not exactly.” We walk towards the nearest cafe, the smell of coffee and pastry guiding us. At least we’ll fill our stomachs. I don’t necessarily need to eat, being a goddess, but it’s been at least a day and a half of chaos and stress, and food is soothing if nothing else.

Dionysus grabs my arm. “Vita.” He glares at me. “Stop evading every question I ask you.”

I sigh. Every answer I give him is another key in the locks around his memory, but I can’t be sure which pieces of information, if any, will undo what remains of Lethe’s influence. It’s a game of Russian roulette. All it takes is one important answer to blow everything to pieces. If he remembers, it will all fall apart. “No, I can’t persuade people. Not generally. My power only works in certain conditions.”

“What sort of conditions?”

How much can I tell him? Definitely not that I'm the Goddess of Ruin. It's not something that would inspire trust from mortals. It certainly never did in the past. Thankfully, he doesn’t have his phone. His internet access is limited, so while I’d told him I worried about what he might look up, it isn’t actually an option.

Still, I am spinning a revolver and hoping it only clicks.

So instead, I’ll keep feeding him information about my powers and hope that satisfies his curiosity. “In order for me to persuade someone to do something, my words have to lead to a bad decision. Something they wouldn’t normally choose to do.”

He frowns at me. Is this really his first clue I’m not a benevolent goddess? That I’m not supposed to share the same sun as him?

“And your power works on anyone?” he asks.

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no. The same as yours do.” I glance at his fingers, which flex around my arm as though remembering the way they’d kept me from climax until I thought I would die.

“Have you used it on me?”

I press my lips together. My silence is answer enough. He lets me go, as though my skin’s burned him, and leaves me standing in the middle of the street. By the time I catch up, he’s already at the cafe counter, ordering himself a cappuccino and pastries. I add on an espresso for me and convince the girl behind the counter to give it to us for free.

Sandro is shaking his head in disgust as he takes a seat at one of the tables outside. “She could lose her job for that.”

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