Page 69 of Patron of Mercy

“Gaia.” A hand touched their arm, and they turned to see Thanatos, eyes shining with emotion. “How can I—”

“We are pleased to see you happy, sweet one. Like us, too long have you been alone.”They leaned forward to kiss his cheek.“We shall speak again, but at this moment, we wish to taste food for ourselves.”

“French fries,” Lach croaked. “You’re gonna love ‘em.”

They resolved to put French fries at the top of their list and reached for the thread of a place where the Martina part of them remembered having had excellent food. They were ready for a new adventure.

Affirmations

Lach shut his eyes and took stock of his body. Somehow, he was still occupying it. Charles hadn’t even had a nibble.

He felt like he’d had his heart torn out then stuffed back in—there was a phantom ache and the peculiar feeling that every heartbeat was a cheat against death.

Or maybe it was for Death. He took a deep breath, imagining the scrape of metal on his bones, sharp against his ribs. But nothing was there. He was fine. And his eyes fluttered open on the best thing he’d ever seen.

“You came,” he whispered. He didn’t think he imagined the glassiness of Thanatos’s eyes or the thick way he swallowed when he nodded.

Lach tried to sit up, but a firm hand held his shoulder down.

“You should really take it easy. You lost a lot of blood,” Hermes said. Lach wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the trickster look concerned before.

“I’m fine,” Lach assured him, but Hermes didn’t back off until Thanatos approached. As Lach tried to sit up again, Thanatos slipped an arm behind his shoulders. A second later, his other arm slid under Lach’s legs, and he had a sinking suspicion the god was about to carry him.

“Thanatos, I’m f—”

One look up at him, with his dark brows crinkled with concern and worry swimming in his golden eyes, brought Lach up short. What was the harm in this? For so long, he’d chafed against the idea of being a burden, being unworthy, but it’d never been about that. Lach might be an asshole, a thief, and yes, he had done a legitimate stint as a pirate, but it wasn’t up to him to decide he wasn’t what Thanatos wanted. He didn’t get to push happiness away just to sate that broken part of him that felt like he hadn’t earned it—not if it meant hurting the person he loved.

His inhale shook, and he smiled faintly at Thanatos. He slid his arm around the back of Thanatos’s neck, using the leverage of his hand curled under his hair to lean in and kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”

Thanatos made a short sound, something like a hum that vibrated against Lach’s side. Something unwound in Thanatos’s wary gaze when Lach accepted his help. Their eyes caught for one impossible heartbeat, then another, before Thanatos looked up. “Hermes?”

“You go on,” Hermes said, waving his hand. “Two gods to round up a bunch of humans—even with an island-splitting mage—is overkill. Leave me my fun.”

He smirked and darted off, but not before Lach realized his hands were stained with blood—Lach’s blood. Shivering, he buried his face in Thanatos’s neck. “Can we go home?”

Once Thanatos transported them to a graveyard near the hotel, it was something of a letdown to remember that “home” meant their room there, but when Thanatos carried him upstairs and lowered him onto the bed gently, Lach was grateful for something soft.

Before Thanatos could straighten, Lach grabbed the lapel of his jacket and dragged him in for a kiss. He tasted salt and sweat—mostly his own—and Thanatos’s sweet lips under all that. “Don’t go,” he rasped, hardly willing to part for even that long.

“Not going anywhere,” Thanatos promised, cupping his cheek. Lach’s eyes slipped closed at the soothing brush of his thumb. “But you need to rest.”

“Because Hermes said so?” Lach laughed.

“Yes, because Hermes said so.” Right then, Thanatos looked so stern that it was a struggle for Lach not to roll his eyes.

“I was healed by the literal earth mother—”

“From a six-inch blade to the heart.”

“Charles missed. I’m fine.”

Thanatos pursed his lips. For a second, Lach thought it was just because he was being stubborn. Then Thanatos asked, “You knew him before tonight?”

Lach sighed, sinking into the pillows behind him. “I guess we have some things to discuss before I jump your bones.”

Though the look Thanatos gave him was thoroughly unimpressed, he nodded, toed off his shoes, and started working on Lach’s less comfortable clothing. “So talk,” he said as he untied Lach’s shoelaces.

Everything Thanatos did was so methodical that it took a while to undo Lach’s laces and twist them up so they wouldn’t get tangled. While he worked, Lach had the luxury of leaning back, looking up at the ceiling, and recounting how he’d befriended a bigot.

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