Page 62 of The Brothers Bane

But maybe not as lonely now as the third of the Brothers Bane, although Vesh is going to have to come to me if he wants to fix that. And where I’m going, he’ll have to work for it.

We remain in the strange embrace for several long moments, Typhon and I wrapped together in the cocoon of his brother’s darkness.

I absorb the new sensations of the deeper bond with them, the tethers tugging at my chest with each deep breath. It’s the nymphaea who practice the blood meld, which was outlawed for thousands of years until very recently. If my memory is true, it grants the mates access to each other’s powers.

I’m not ready to test that yet, but knowing they’re even deeper inside me is a comfort, considering what I need to do.

Erebus slides away the moment my sense of urgency rises. As little as I relish the idea, it’s time for me to go. And even though this is the first time I’m finally claiming control of my own life, it’s difficult to take that final step.

Typhon protests when I try to rise and extract myself from him. His brows knit, and he has the most heartbreakingly dejected look when I slip off the bed.

“This isn’t forever,” I say, even though I have no idea what will happen next. All I know is that I can’t let them keep sacrificing themselves for my sake.

The last thing I need to do is clothe myself. I curse my lack of planning, because I left literally every stitch of clothing back in Greece and don’t trust myself to go back and get it now.

I hold my arms out, focusing on them at first, and willing clothing over my body. The power surges forth the way it did when I rebuilt the wall I destroyed at the compound, what feels like an eon ago. Dark sleeves form over my arms, soon followed by dark boots and jeans covering my legs. They aren’t even an illusion; I can feel them hugging my body, sliding against my skin.

When I relax, I’m fully clothed again in what has always been my most comfortable outfit: simple black jeans, a black Fate’s Fools tee, and shirt of black stretchy lace, open in the front. Even my boots feel like the real things, which I know are still stashed in my locker in the barracks ever since I switched to the training boots.

My stomach flips because I’ve drawn this out long enough and now it’s time to follow through. Both brothers are still on the bed, and for the first time they truly look like brothers, their mannerisms and expressions so similar in the way they look like they want to object, but are thankfully holding back.

I want to go to them. To kiss them goodbye, but I’m afraid if I touch them again, I’ll let them keep me here forever, and that would serve no one.

Instead, I take a deep breath and shove my hands in my pockets.

“Tell Vesh I forgive him. You should forgive him too.”

With a thought, I am gone, enveloped once again in heat so cloying not even the massive fountain in front of me can cool it down.

27

Vesh

The penthouse suite of the Pandemonium buzzes with the kind of electric energy only the rich and powerful exude. My eyes sweep the crowd, picking out my team as they meld into their roles—guardians turned actors for the night. My own guise is nothing remarkable—just another tuxedo among many—but it’s the perfect camouflage. I keep my head down, eyes sharp, watching.

As our substitute Shadow, Kol’s a spot of unfamiliarity in our tight-knit unit. He doesn’t share our telepathic link, but the earpiece we’ve rigged up keeps him in the loop. I murmur into my own, “Stay sharp. We’re about to move into phase two.”

His shadow, a living extension of him, slinks through the throng of guests unseen. Only I notice its presence, a comfort that Erebus’s absence hasn’t left us blind.

The pang of annoyance at my brother’s betrayal stings fresh, imagining him and Typhon entwined with Nemea, rather than standing with us. Perhaps I should have relented, let Typhon have his outing. He’s ridden along often enough but I’ve never let him have a body of his own, cloned from my own flesh so he can appear human to the mortal world. I only let him out when I need the monster, and tonight requires far more refinement than he possesses.

But my rejection cost me Erebus, and possibly Cerberus as a result, whose erratic behavior continues, keeping me on edge every time he moves, patrolling the hallway closest to Sybil’s saunas.

Chaos and Sybil are a formidable sight, inseparable as they greet their guests with that untouchable air of authority. The crowd around them swarms, a sea of designer gowns and tailored suits, each person eager for a moment in their powerful orbit. It’s a problem; their tendency to stay joined at the hip is a complication we hadn’t anticipated.

Pan’s voice comes through our bond, low and controlled.“We need to separate them. I can draw her attention.”

I frown, watching Chaos like a hawk.“It’s too risky. He’s not a fool.”

Pan’s gaze follows mine to the couple, his expression unreadable.“I’ll wait for the right moment. If she steps away, even for a second, I’ll take it.”

I nod, apprehensive, but willing give him the freedom to improvise. We can’t afford to wait much longer.

Pan fades back into the crowd, a predator biding his time. Moments later, I catch the glint of mischief in his eyes as he catches Sybil’s attention from across the room. Chaos has turned away, laughing at some high roller’s joke.

I hold my breath, my pulse a drumbeat in my ears. This is it, the tipping point. If Pan can lure her away, we have our opening. If not, we’re back to square one, with the clock ticking down relentlessly.

My body tenses, ready to call it off if I sense the slightest hint of Chaos’ suspicion. But then, Sybil’s eyes light up, and she’s moving, drifting toward Pan like a moth to flame. Chaos is still preoccupied, and I can’t help but let out a silent sigh of relief.

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