Page 80 of Immortal Sun

Logic always wins.

I force a smile I really don’t feel. “Apep found traces of him, and like I said he’s been really helpful so I’m waiting on more information, but the good news is he’s alive.”

“Missing off the coast of Washington. How interesting.” His eyes search mine like he’s trying to read me like a book. “I wonder…” He leans in. “…where most people go, when they’re missing.”

“Let me guess,” I say in annoyance. “The mountains?”

He taps me on the nose and smirks. “Not as dumb as she looks.”

“Not as hot as he thinks.” I glare.

He does a double take then bursts out laughing. “Yup, you’re definitely different.”

“Different, good.” I lift my chin. “I’m going to go work.”

Cyrus laughs. “If that’s what you want to call it. Oh, by the way…” He turns around, his eyes impossible to read. “I have something for you before you go to the warehouse.”

My throat’s so dry despite the fact that I’m drinking coffee, and I have no choice but to follow him, the bell ringing with each step.

How has this gotten so crazy in the last few days? And turned into something so psychotic it feels like I’ve taken drugs?

I set down my mug, hands shaking, and follow his massive steps out of the house and toward the giant tree in the yard.

Rat runs toward me, scurrying around Cyrus and jumping on my leg.

“Hey, bud.” I smile for the first time that morning.

Rat does a few circles and then looks over at Cyrus, and I swear the little dude glares.

I laugh but sober instantly.

Cyrus’s hand goes to the tree, his palm presses against it. The normally light bark goes dark and then lights up like Christmas.

What is with me and Christmas today?

Leaves start to fall from the tree, blanketing us in a weird spring silence.

It feels like a funeral.

The air tastes stale, like death.

Cyrus looks over at me and grins. “It’s good to be reminded what you are, and why you are.” He digs his pointer finger into the tree and makes a tally mark, then another, and another.

Until he’s at the number four.

“Five,” he says, “will be tomorrow, then six, seven. I’m sure you know how to count. Do you want to ask me?”

“Ask you what?”

“How many tally marks until the last drop of blood leaves your body? Until your sacrifice is made?”

“You aren’t a god.”

Just a serial killer.

And I’m just the young guest nobody will believe, without family, relying on the man in front of me and one I barely know to help restore what’s been lost.

He laughs, his eyes suddenly flash blue then gold. “Oh princess, I am the god, and you’re mine, you want to find your brother? You want to survive this? You’ll do everything I say and spend the days like you have been.”

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