Page 18 of Patron of Mercy

“What’s the lost ark?”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark? Classic action movie? Indiana Jones? Harrison Ford?”

Thanatos blinked at him.

Lach sighed. “I’m saying it’s probably protected. Like with booby traps. Or magic. It won’t be my first rodeo, but you never want to go into these things without, you know, considering the dangers ahead. I mean, I’ll totally be fine. But you’re not much of an adventurer, so we should run through the basics before we get there.” Lach grinned.

The teasing clearly went over less well than he’d intended. Thanatos was scowling, the corners of his lips slipping farther down every second.

He tried again. “And, you know, there are mortals who think sailing is like a vacation.”

“You’re talking about cruises.”

“I am. But I’ll be doing all the hard work.”

Okay, Thanatos had never been the vacation sort. He didn’t look all that inclined to sit back and let Lach sweep him off to Greece.

“But I could really use your help?” Lach suggested. “She’s a pretty big boat. A lot for one guy to handle on his own.”

“You seem to have managed fine.”

Lach sucked in his cheeks. It didn’t feel right to complain about Misericordia or imply she was anything but the best boat to ever sail, even if it would get Thanatos on board.

“I guess, but... what if something happens? I mean, if I’m at sea, that’s not your domain. We won’t be able to talk.”

“We can radio.”

Lach sighed. “Satellite’s glitchy.”

Right then, a man swept by them on the sidewalk, close enough that his gray silk suit jacket brushed Lach’s arm. They weren’t alone on the sidewalk, despite the late hour. One fringe benefit of cities—there were always people around. With hardly a thought and a minute flick of his fingers, Lach unclasped the man’s watch. It fell heavily into his hand. Slipping two fingers through the links, he dangled it up in the air for Thanatos to see.

“Plus traveling with me comes with perks,” Lach said. He felt the same thrill of victory that made his blood rush every time he won a prize.

“Did you just steal that man’s watch?” Thanatos demanded incredulously.

Lach frowned. It’d been second nature. A watch was within his grasp—why shouldn’t he take it? “I didn’tnotsteal that man’s watch.”

Thanatos shifted, his arms crossing tighter over his chest until they wrinkled his dark button-up.

“Oh, come on,” Lach said, laughing. “It’s a nice watch. And he doesn’t need it. I got it for you. I’m basically Robin Hood.”

“I’m not poor,” Thanatos snapped.

Lach straightened. “Well, no—”

“And you don’t know that man’s rich.”

Lach turned around. The man was almost at the end of the block, none the wiser to his missing watch. His suit was well pressed, his shoes had no scuffs, and he walked with the urgency of a man who was worried about things that did not matter—problems it was well within his means to fix.

“He’s rich,” Lach said definitively. Turning back to Thanatos, he smiled. “Come on. It looks like it’s solid gold. You seriously don’t want it?”

“I seriously do not,” Thanatos said. Once upon a time in Thrinacia, when Lach hadn’t had any money to give Thanatos a gift, he’d picked an orange off a cart in the market and given it to him. Apparently, it’d been more charming then. Of course, the vendor had laughed it off. Already thinking Lach some kind of witch, they hadn’t wanted to cross him.

“Well, fine. I’ll keep it.” He slipped his own hand through it and scowled. Nothing about Lach’s own style was suave enough for a gold watch. Most days, he wore T-shirts and clothes he could move around in easily while sailing. His hair, which fell in waves to his shoulders, was usually pulled back with an elastic band, unbrushed.

But it would’ve been nice on Thanatos, as put together as he always was. He was the sort of man—god—who could carry off nice things. Someone who knew how to move through a crowd. The gold would look fantastic against his brown skin—catch the glint in his bright honeyed eyes. Lach imagined that kind of luxury on his own wrist made him look even dingier by comparison.

“Give it back,” Thanatos ordered.

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