Page 53 of The Brothers Bane

The men place their hands on me just as I make the mental shift back into my sanctuary. It’s as if the world folds in on itself, then opens again in another place.

We’re beside the big bed again, so I sit, leaning back on my hands and giving Campe an expectant look.

“We’re tricking him into giving us the … key … to his vault,” she says. “I’ll have to impersonate his mate to get it. And…” She winces as she meets my gaze.

“And what?” I sit up straighter. “Are you going to have tofuckthe bastard?”

She and Alcides have shed their conjured clothes, and are in the process of finding their prior outfits and dressing again. Mine are torn to shreds, so I don’t have any choice but to wear what she gave me.

“No. Maybe.” She huffs a breath. “I’ll do what’s necessary. It’s his essence that opens the vault. Not a physical key.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this.” I’m indignant, filled with ice-cold rage at the very idea of her having to sacrifice her own body for this stupid plan.

“I’m a dragon, Nemea. It isn’t a hardship to make a man come. I’ll be in Sybil’s form when I do, so it’s unlikely we’ll fuck. You had a taste of that shape last night, if you recall. I’ll have other options.”

My final tangle with her before Cerberus reclaimed me is a vivid fever dream of a memory. Andtangleis an understatement.

Between all the tails she manifested and my octopus tattoo having powered up to the point of near-autonomy, I don’t think we left any of our holes unfilled. She’d kept her own face, but the rest of her had transformed almost completely.

I shake off the arousal of that memory and concede. “Fine, yeah, I can imagine you’ll be able to distract him well enough. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Pan will be in the same boat distracting Sybil,” she says. “Whether or not he has to fuck her, I don’t know. She has always been keener on doing the fucking, from what I have heard of her, and satyrs are a particular preference she has.”

“Who the hell is Sybil?” I ask, skin prickling and my voice taking on a shrill tone. I mentally broadcast the question to Pan while waiting for Campe to respond. But rather than answer, she turns toward the rotunda of doors, where one opens and Pan strides through, looking contrite.

“It’s the only way for us to separate them,” he finally says when he reaches me.

“Can’t you just knock her out or something? I get why sex is necessary for Chaos. But her?” My stomach is in knots at the very idea of another woman touching him, or any of them, for that matter. Campe’s the exception, but so far, she’s shown zero interest in fooling around with any of the men, aside from the occasional teasing.

He swallows and shares a look with Campe, then the others.

“She’s not human,” I say, finally putting the pieces together.

“She’s a demigoddess, and my niece, technically,” Campe says. “My sister’s offspring from Gaia and Dionysus when they were rebelling against Fate. She is also immortal. And has prophetic sight, like the Sphinx. She’s lusted over Pan for ages, so giving her an opportunity to fulfill that craving seemed like the best way to lure her out of our way while I take care of Chaos.”

“You’re okay with this?” I ask Pan.

He shrugs. “I don’t exactly have a choice if we want that key.”

My teeth grind together—the key Vesh refused to usemeas leverage to get Chaos to relinquish. Instead, he thought it would be just fine to ask two of his guards to give theirbodiesup to the cause instead.

Tracesof the Nevada desert heat linger on my skin as we land back in the cooler air of the Amazon compound. Even though I’m standing in midday Greek sun, there’s a pleasant breeze that’s a stark contrast from the urban oven we visited earlier. Despite the whirlwind of Vegas still spinning in my head, I’m struck by the peacefulness here, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground of the training field.

Theemptytraining field.

I glance at my wrist where my watch should be, but I remember I left it behind in my locker. “What time is it?” I ask, squinting at the sun like it’s going to give me a straight answer.

“It’s just before noon,” Campe says, her voice low and even. Her horns glint in the light as she moves, clad again in her leathers while I’m still in the night club-style attire she dressed me in for our jaunt down the Strip.

I shake my head in disbelief. “Feels like we’ve been gone for days. And by the way, I’m starving. I missed breakfast.”

Campe chuckles, a sound that seems to rumble from deep within her chest. “Time in your sanctuary doesn’t follow our rules. It bends to your will.” She eyes my clothing and gives a slight shake of her head, then exhales a lungful of shimmering smoke. It does what’s necessary, and I’m soon dressed in an outfit almost identical to the one I wore before we left.

The lunch rush is underway, and I’m still juggling my conflict over Vesh’s plan, along with the time shifts, when we merge with a stream of women heading toward the mess hall. The chatter and clatter of dishes is a comforting background noise as we step inside, though my anger doesn’t quite subside.

I spot Mel across the room and excuse myself from Alcides and Campe to go over to her. “Hey,” I start, wincing as I notice her limp. “I’m sorry about bailing on you earlier.”

She waves me off with a hand callused by years of combat. “It happens,” she says, though her eyes are hard. “Used to it. I heal fast.”

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