Page 13 of Patron of Mercy

“I suppose I am,” he agreed.

Without any more questions, they grabbed the phone on the desk and punched in a code. With the hand that wasn’t on the phone, they fingered a worn copy of a textbook about... the Greek pantheon. Huh. Had Prometheus told the vampires who he was?

Thanatos snorted. Of course he had. Prometheus was so like Lach in many ways, but in simple honesty, they couldn’t be more dissimilar. Lach would lie about the color of the sky because he could. Prometheus would tell a building full of vampires that he was an immortal titan because it was true.

Jordan, who had been talking, stopped and looked at the phone, confused.

“Something wrong?” Thanatos asked. Maybe while he’d been lost in thought, Prometheus had been telling the front desk personnel to eject him.

“Um, I’m not sure.” They looked at the phone, then put it back to their ear. “Hello?”

“Did he hang up?”

“No, he just seems to be go—”

“Thanatos!” came the shout from behind them. Prometheus rushed out of one of the elevators, looking hale and fit. He had a wide grin on his face that Thanatos hadn’t seen in so long he’d almost forgotten it existed. His hair was sun-bleached for the first time in thousands of years, and his arms were spread wide in welcome.

Of course.

Because, like Prometheus wouldn’t lie about his nature to a hunt of vampires, neither would he hold a grudge against a friend who had failed him. He crossed the lobby in scant seconds and wrapped Thanatos in a tight hug.

No one had hugged Thanatos in an age. There were familiar touches by his brother, the occasional spirit who took his hand, or accidental grazes by people who pulled away instantly because no one truly wanted to touch Death. But only Prometheus would so unthinkingly wrap his arms around Thanatos.

He returned the gesture, twining his arms around his old friend and holding him tight, burying his face in Prometheus’s neck. His dearest friend was free and happy, and suddenly the world seemed more like a place worth saving.

Big Apple, Big Problems

The Hunt Building cut like a shard through the hazy red sky. It was night, but Lach couldn’t see the stars in New York. Even if he’d been able to stand the sheer number of people in large cities, pressing in on each other with no room to breathe, he couldn’t stay anywhere he couldn’t see the stars. On land, there were fewer and fewer places without light pollution.

People didn’t know what they were missing. When he got out to sea and could see the silken twist of the Milky Way, all the other bullshit fell into perspective.

He felt small in the face of all that splendor. But Thanatos had been born to it. Starlight and chaos, he was too big and important for Lach. Yet he’d gotten to hold Thanatos in his arms once. Just like the man on the other side of the glass door who was wrapping Thanatos up in his embrace.

They were there by the welcome desk. From outside, Lach watched Thanatos hesitate a second. The spark of hope in Lach’s chest flickered out when he twined his arms around the man and squeezed him close. Sour and dry, he ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth.

He’d always known that Thanatos had counted Prometheus a friend, but he’d never thought there was anything more between them. Why should he have worried? In more than a decade, he’d never met the man.

It occurred to Lach now that that was only because they’d been held apart by the vengeance of Olympus. Thanatos and Prometheus could have been anything to each other. They could be again now.

“Going in?” someone asked.

Lach startled. An amused young man stood behind him, balancing a pastry box in one hand and a tray of coffee on the other. There was a badge gleaming on his belt.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Stepping out of the way, Lach held the door open for the man. In a flash—too fast for human steps—he’d crossed the lobby to a bank of elevators.

Though there were people, humans and vampires, all around, Lach’s footsteps echoed across the granite floors. No matter how loud every step was to his own ears, when he approached Thanatos and Prometheus, he had to clear his throat before Thanatos lifted his head from Prometheus’s shoulder.

He blinked at Lach. Whatever openness he’d felt a moment before locked down under a hard scowl. But even as Thanatos stepped away, Prometheus shifted naturally, keeping a hand on the small of Thanatos’s back.

“Hi,” Lach said with a tight smile.

Thanatos didn’t reply.

“Can we help you?” Prometheus asked earnestly.

“Oh, I’m with him.” Lach looked pointedly at Thanatos. For half a second, he thought Thanatos would deny it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Prometheus said.

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