Page 101 of Immortal Sun

I leave out the soccer games and late-night ice cream with her police officer husband.

I leave it all because I refuse to face emotion.

It is dead.

So am I.

I start to leave again.

The panther still sleeps, damn it, Bast.

And then Cleo’s chasing after me, grabbing me by the arm and trying to pull me against her. I don’t move, but I am curious. “What now?”

“What happened to you?”

I falter a bit and then answer, “Blood. War. Death.”

“But you were nice earlier. You kissed me, and you don’t seem?—”

“All an act to get what I want. After thousands of years, believe me when I say I’m used to it, and all of you”—I turn and stare at her— “taste the same.” I grin and lean in, capturing her lips with mine. My tongue slides past her lips, I grip her by the neck and lightly shove her into the rock wall, grinding my hips against hers.

She gasps in my mouth, her hands push against me. I feel nothing but the heat of her mouth and the softness of her lips.

And then I do something I haven’t done in my entire life.

I lie.

“You taste like everyone else.” I jerk back. “See? Nothing special. Just a pretty little human with a ticking time bomb.” I wipe my mouth like I’m disgusted, then spit on the floor. “Tick. Tock.”

She shrieks when I leave.

Bast wakes up and hisses.

I keep walking. I walk until I’m at the water and then just because I can, I blow toward the moon and create a flame with my mouth that reaches to the sky where I belong. I stop the solar flare, look over my shoulder, and wink.

CHAPTER 24

CLEO

“The error is the result of letting fear rule your actions.”– The Saga of Harald Hardrada, ch.46

He’s an asshole.

And he doesn’t come back for the next few hours. I stare at the quill on the paper and can’t will myself to do anything but just continue to stare.

After another hour, Enki finally makes his way toward the mouth of the cave. He takes one look at me and sighs. “You didn’t even use your amulet against him, I’m impressed.”

I snort. “Would it even work?”

“Um, The Eye of Horus? Trust me, it wouldn’t feel good or sound like a parade.”

I pause and then laugh bitterly. “You aren’t a god.”

He just smiles. “Whatever you say.” His reddish-brown hair is pulled into a low ponytail that spills over one shoulder when he leans in; his smile’s more of a smirk. “Hungry?” He holds up a plate of sandwiches.

I glare. “I’m not stupid.”

“They’re turkey.” He frowns. “Fine, I’ll eat them, but here’s the thing,” he sets them on the table then jumps back onto the bed and pats it for me to sit.

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