Page 31 of Immortal Sun

I nearly drop my coffee cup; the way she says doctor does things to my chest. I feel hot. I know she’s teasing me, but I like it. After a deep breath I continue. “Egyptian mythology is a bit different. They were a race of people who believed fiercely in the afterlife but in a need to keep it quote unquote fair, they said as long as you had enough coin to balance out any sort of sin, you’d gain entry to the afterlife to see your family. But if you’re weighed and found wanting, you are lost.”

“Unfair.” She sighs. “Not everyone had money and if they did it was to feed their family.”

“Then they should have lived perfect lives, I suppose.”

Her eyes narrow as she takes another bite, ketchup catching on her lower lip. “That’s impossible.”

I lean in and brush my thumb over her lip. It’s instinctual. I’m her boss. What the hell am I doing? But touching a human, touching the last one. Why is it so damn tempting? My thumb skips then pulses like a heartbeat from that single touch.

After an initial start, she freezes, eyes wide. A vein visibly pulsing in her neck.

“Sorry, you had some food there.” I wanted to touch her even though I’m not supposed to yet, I felt—a primal need to touch. I lean back. “Well, I guess there’s always another option isn’t there?”

She wipes her napkin across her mouth. “What?”

I lean and whisper. “Pray to the gods yourself, pray to Olympus and ask for them to take you if you have no coin, they might just give in and allow you to pass into the afterlife, they aren’t without grace. Especially if you have someone waiting for you.” I’m not sure why I say it, but I continue. “If Jake were hypothetically gone, wouldn’t you give anything to see him again? Desperation makes us do crazy things, Cleo.”

Her fork drops out of her hand, clattering against the floor. “What?”

I reach over the bar and hand her a new one, then I fold my arms over my chest. My clothes feel too small sitting next to her, my white cable knit sweater feels toxically normal and choking along with my jeans. “Why kill when you can imprison? Why take away power from this earth when you can feed from it? The gods are no longer heroes, Cleo.” I’m talking about myself of course. I know who I am, what they’ve turned me into during these trials in order to ascend to the mountain .

When she says nothing, I continue. “After all, a balance must always exist between good and evil. But I will say this,” I look out the window, across the street at the competing pub. “It’s much easier to appear perfect and good when you shower power and gifts on your people than when you punish them for wrongdoing, when you give them consequences for their actions rather than looking the other way. But sometimes, a curse can become a blessing because one thing they don’t teach you at all those fancy universities…” I lean in and crook my finger.

She frowns and gets just close enough to hear my whisper. I can hear her heart pound in her chest, I can count her inhales, exhales, my tongue slides out across my lower lip, the air itself is permeated with her scent.

“The fates are tied together in an impenetrable cycle of pain and torment.” I smile in pure satisfaction. “After all, blood begets blood. There will never be a true winner in this universe, and so—” I jerk back before I do something I won’t be able to undo. “The bloody cycle of sacrifice to the gods continues—some say to this day.” I wink. “Then again, it’s just a story, right?”

Cleo stares down at her plate, then back up at me, her curious multicolored eyes don’t lock onto mine anymore, but at my chest. She folds her hands. “So, if this was real, what do the gods sacrifice now? In order to keep their power? If you were to make this into a Hollywood blockbuster?—”

“Damn Hollywood can’t even get their stories straight.” I have so much more to say on that subject, but last time I went off on a tangent I made a little kid cry about his favorite superhero, so I bite my tongue.

“Come on.” She smiles jolting me out of the memory of the kid dressed like Shazam using the power of the sun and lightning and me screamingliar. “What would you sacrifice?”

“The only thing you can.” I shrug. “What you cherish the most.”

“And what do you cherish the most?” She has no clue. None.

I stand and grab another sip of coffee to give myself some time for the damning answer. “I cherish protecting people that I love, so in turn I would sacrifice just about anything that will bring me to that point even if it means I have to commit heinous crimes again and again.”

“You’d sacrifice your animals? Your brothers? What do you love more than that?”

I study her, holding my silence while I consider her question.

The sky. But I settle on something else that means the same thing to me. “Peace,” I finally say. “But that’s pretty unobtainable these days, don’t you think? After all, it’s just a fairytale, a wonderfully interesting story of people with magical powers who save their people?”

The coffee cup in her hand trembles before she sets it down, spilling coffee on the counter. “Yeah, sorry just a really sad and scary story.”

“The best ones always are.” I say, voice low. “Let’s go, no more talk of stupid immortals dipped in Chaos.”

I say it on purpose as we walk past the door, knowing he can hear me. I can smell him anyway. He’s on the other side of the street spying on us.

It’s one of his many bad habits.

“Whoa!” Cleo stops on the sidewalk right before we’re about to walk across the street and meet the devil himself. She points toward the old town center, people always say it reminds them of a movie, with all of the little cafes—five to be exact, circling the large fountain in the middle of the square. I rarely look at it, the memories are still too fresh despite being old. It’s a picture of Ra and Apep fighting each other, a flash of lightning divides them down the middle and above them sits, the remaining twelve deities. I’m still pissed that Mars had the fountain built when I failed the first night only to be stuck here to stare at it until now. He’s an asshat. I think Anubis laughed for a week straight that Mars would mock me like that. Then again, Mars didn’t fail his trials.

Gaia in all her glory with her flowing black hair and tanned skin, the statue has her looking like a Roman goddess, but I know her true appearance, she’s absolutely stunning, with tanned brown skin, bright yellow-brown eyes, a strong nose, and full lips. Her body is shaped for birthing the world, full hips, long legs—she is, after all, the mother of all. And Cronos was born out of the cries of Asia long ago until being adopted as a deity by the Greeks and Romans. I feel my sigh down to my very soul, the burden is heavy again, the need to return to them. I clear my throat and look above the fountain. “That large clock above Town Hall carries the countdown to the eclipse, and the fountain is to honor the gods of old.”

“It’s a battle between Egyptian and Greek gods.” Cleo tilts her head. “Why is it that I haven’t read about this battle?” She laughs like it’s funny when it’s nothing short of a tragedy that started this all, including her end.

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