Page 64 of Wildfire

“Wilder dealt with one titan,” Hermes corrected.

The corners of Athena’s mouth thinned in annoyance, but she didn’t even bother addressing him. “But he is not the last. If gods and monsters are moving again in the modern world, the mages of Banneker will need to be prepared.”

Hermes sighed, draping his neck over the arm of the couch. Of course. Of course she’d want Wilder to keep up his insane training sessions. Was she going to pay him extra for that?

“I’m starting a new school at Banneker this fall—the school of battle magic. I want you to head up the department.”

That brought Hermes up short. Wilder, too, who’d gone still and leaned forward, pinching Hermes’s legs in his lap.

“Me? But there are dozens of professors who have tenure, who have been there longer,” Wilder protested.

Hermes wanted to shove him. Since they’d met, Wilder had doubted he’d earned what came his way. He’d done his best, and hoped for little, and Hermes didn’t want him to talk Athena out of this.

“None of them fought a titan. None are as skilled at battle magic as you. None are my protégé.”

“Ugh, gross.” Hermes made a retching sound, but at this point, they were both ignoring him.

“You’re wasted on lower-level classes, and, forgive me for saying it, but you’re not very good at hand-holding freshman. You’ll train elite students in offensive magic. And afterward, I’ll... make sure they find their way.”

That sounded ominous.

“We’ll make sure they do,” Wilder said. And Hermes felt a little better, knowing it wasn’t just Athena holding these kids’ futures in her hands.

“So you accept?”

Wilder sucked in his cheeks. And maybe there were a lot of reasons not to get in bed with Athena, but he’d earned this. He’d fought hard, and he’d kept them safe.

With his cozy-socked toes, Hermes gave him a little nudge. That shook him out of it.

“I do.”

“Great!” Hermes jumped off the couch. “Then you two can discuss his future tomorrow. Tonight is for celebrating. Up.” He grabbed Athena’s wrist and tugged. “Up!”

Athena let him pull her out of the chair, but she grumbled as he herded her toward the door.

“You know, he’s mine as much as he’s yours,” she muttered over her shoulder.

At that, Hermes couldn’t help but laugh aloud. “Oh no, sis. That man, from his silky blond locks to that perfect ass, is entirely mine. And he will be as long as he keeps those brownies stocked in his pantry.”

Wilder had promised that the store never ran out. And, well, if one store ran out, Hermes could zip away to any other and come back with armfuls of boxed deliciousness.

“But I’ll lend him to you for work,” Hermes added.

He swung the door open, shoved her out onto the stoop, and slammed it shut before she had the chance to turn around.

With a faint prickle of nerves, he realized he was lucky she didn’t roundhouse kick Wilder’s door in.

He bounced back into the living room and grabbed Wilder’s hand, pulling him toward the kitchen. “Where are we going?” Humor brightened his tone, and Hermes thrilled to realize he’d thoroughly wedged his way into Wilder’s heart.

“Brownie time,” Hermes said.

The pantry was stocked full of them—two entire shelves, five boxes deep. And every time they went to the store, they brought home more.

Without complaint, Wilder pulled out the mixing bowl and started the oven. Hermes pulled a bit of golden fruit from his pocket and crouched by Melisandre’s bowl.

She came up, curiously nudging him as she sniffed his hand.

“What’s that?” Wilder asked, a sharp edge of worry in his words, as if he thought Hermes would ever do anything bad to his sweet kitty.

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