Page 48 of Invoking Ruin

A mistake I have no intention of making now that I know better.

Nemesis huffs and shakes her head. “Fine. If you will not claim your rights, Lethe, then Dionysus has the most cause.”

I nod, accepting her judgment. “Then back off her. All of you.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nemesis says. “Not while she has the rift knife. If we were only after Atê and her… pettier crimes, we would not be chasing her. But she has to give up the knife. None of us are safe until it is unmade.”

A weapon powerful enough to frighten gods should have never fallen into the hands of Ruin. Atê, what the fuck have you done?

Momus asked her about a knife in the bar, but I hadn’t thought much about it, then. I didn’t even know my own name, much less what they were arguing over.

Now, I’m sure this rift knife is what he was looking for.

I don’t know exactly what this knife is, but I’m not asking about it now. I’ll make Atê give me those answers.

Along with so many others.

“I’ll get the knife for you.” I tell Nemesis, a plan forming in my mind as I talk. “She trusts me. Thinks I’m her pet. If you show up demanding the knife, you’ll only scare her. Even if you catch her, she’ll never give you what you want. She’ll hand it over to me willingly if I ask.”

I hope it’s all true. Certainly, I have a better shot of getting that knife out of her possession than Nemesis or anyone else does. And after I deliver the goods, they’ll leave Atê at my mercy.

My cock hardens at the idea, and I have to push the thought down. Now isn’t the time.

“This is a terrible plan,” Nemesis says. “Do you even know what it is you’re looking for? You need to come home. Centuries of politics and crises transpired while you were sunning yourself in Italy. Do you think you can challenge her in your half-restored state?”

“He’s decided, Nemesis,” comes Lethe’s dreamy voice. I scowl at her, for all she’s right.

“Why does no one listen to me?” Nemesis grumbles to herself. “Everything would go so much smoother if they did.”

“Perhaps,” Lethe agrees. “It would be less fun, though.”

Nemesis glares at her niece before digging into the breast pocket of her suit jacket. She drags out a bronze medallion on a thong of leather and holds it out for me.

“Take this. When you find the knife, use it to summon me.”

The bronze is warm in my hand. I shove it in a pocket.

“And Dionysus,” Nemesis adds warningly.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t fuck this up. All our lives depend on getting that knife back where it belongs. Cornered, Atê could give it to anyone for the right offer. She’s not to be trusted.”

“The last thing I’m going to do is trust Atê.”

“What are you going to do to her?” Lethe frowns at me, pale lips pursed. “For your retribution?”

There are so many things I want to do to Atê. All of them are violent, punishing, and possessive, and they flash behind my eyelids as I take a breath. One fantasy in particular fights past the others to the front of the line.

“I’ll bring her to her knees.”

Chapter twelve

Atê

Eris stands on the path through the center of Apollo’s temple, blocking me from returning to Dionysus and Pegasus. Light from the setting sun cuts across her face, giving her an unearthly glow. Her grey eyes are keen as they take me in. I remember these assessing stares from my youth, telling me how badly I messed up.

My shoulders lock, rigid as steel.

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