Page 83 of The Duplicity of Thieves

I couldn’t trust Kate, and I couldn’t trust Killian. What has Stafford done to earn my trust? The voice in my head reminds me that he moved us in secret. He kept us afloat when there wasn’t money, and he gave me a job. I’m struck with a revelation. The thing that’s bothering me is that I never told him about my scars. I always keep them covered even during hookups until Aedon. He has seen them, but he is too far removed from the Remnant to have told anyone. He’s aligned with Hades. Vivian wouldn’t have said anything either.

No, this is something deeper. When he paced back and forth asking if there was anything I hadn’t told him, he was trying to get me to reveal myself. He knows more than he’s letting on. I don’t know who told him, but now I think it’s best if I keep my knowledge to myself. All signs of the funny jerk I’ve spent years with are gone, replaced by a man who I now see as a stranger. If I take away one lesson from everything I have been through, it’s to trust no one. But what about Aedon?

Part III

One for the Fates

Chapter sixteen

Aedonaeus

When I arrive home, I’m emotionally drained. Minos and Hermes will be jealous that I didn’t have to consort with the worst people we know. Serves them right for talking about Josie. But I’m a man with a purpose, and it isn’t to go to stupid parties for people I don’t like.

Sam is asleep with his head in his hands when I walk in. I’m not going to wake the man. Minos’ bullshit already pissed me off, and I’m liable to take it out on the first person I see. So I leave him sleeping, not so peacefully, at his desk. The elevator whirs as I slump against the wall.

When the doors open the air in the penthouse is different. Someone is here. I catch the faint scent of pear. Josie?

Sure enough, her shoes are in the middle of the living room floor. It’s late to have company. I guess if she’s here for sex it’s better than nothing when it comes to her. Especially when she left so quickly the first time, and I left so quietly the last.

I spy her sitting on the floor leaning against the couch. Why she never sits on the actual furniture I may never know. There’s an ugly canvas bag on the floor next to her, and the weird book from the other day is open in her hands.

She doesn’t look up. “Where have you been?”

“Nowhere I wanted to be.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my tuxedo. A ridiculous ensemble if you ask me.

I wonder what it will be like, the day Josie wants to marry me. If she ever does. It won’t be a requirement when I take the throne. She can stand next to me and have an opinion regardless. Will we request that people wear crisp tuxedos and elegant dresses? I can’t imagine that sort of display would suit her tastes. When she says yes, I will rush her to the nearest altar praying she doesn’t change her mind on the way. If tonight has taught me anything, it’s that I can’t live without the woman in front of me pondering that decrepit book.

“That’s not an answer.” She’s sucking on a sugary pop, which is something I didn’t even think would look as hot as it does. The sticky candy is in her mouth with the stick poking out of the side at an angle. She fiddles with her fingernails. It must be something she’s doing because she doesn’t want me to know she smokes, even though I figured that out the other night.

“I was supposed to be at an engagement party.”

“Supposed to be?”

“Supposed to be,” I confirm.

Thank the fucking Universe you didn’t invite me.”

“You don’t like parties?” I was right.

“I despise them.” She looks at me briefly, sizing me up. “You look…” she trails off, not finishing her sentence and turns back to the book.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Figuring something out,” she ignores me. The candy clacks against her teeth.

“Do you mind sharing with the class?” It’s a reach. Josie still hasn’t said much about herself, but I suppose I haven’t either. I’m going to have to give her something to get something in return. I sit next to her, keeping just a little distance so she doesn’t shrink away.

She huffs. “Why do you care?”

“This book.” I tap it. “It’s in a language called Mondurian.” I sound like a fucking idiot. I don’t know where to start.

“Okay.”

I try again. “I’ve never met anyone that can read it. Including the person who gave it to me. I don’t think they would have gifted it to me if they thought it was worth something, but it seems to be worth something to you.”

She’s considering what I’ve said. “If I told you it was stolen from me, what would you say?”

I’ve never seen her this serious before. Her body is tense, and her breaths are shallow. She crunches down on the candy and lays the stick on the table carefully.

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