Page 17 of Gods of Prey
“Could you stop doing that?” Revel’s voice breaks my concentration.
I turn to face him, my spectral form shimmering slightly. “Doing what?”
“The flickering thing.” He gestures vaguely at my translucent body. He’s unpacking a suitcase filled with mortal clothes that we manifested when we got here and realized he had absolutely nothing. I’m not sure how I didn’t hear him get up. “It’s distracting.”
“Forgive me for not having perfect control over my spectral manifestation,” I snap. “I’ve been dead for barely a year in this timeline.”
Revel sighs, running a hand through his hair. In his mortal form, he’s frustratingly handsome—tall with broad shoulders. His usual glowing silver eyes have been tampered down to a light gray. Everything about him radiates life, which I suppose is the point. He is its interim keeper, after all.
And I haven’t missed the looks he gets from people as we pass them on the street. As if they sense what he is and are naturally magnetized to him.
“Let’s go over the plan again,” he says, ignoring my irritation. “I befriend your brother and his mortal lover. You try not to be seen by anyone except them, and only if necessary.”
“I’m well aware of my limitations, thank you.” I drift closer, watching him arrange his belongings with meticulous care. Everything about Revel is ordered and deliberate—a mirror of my twin. “Sebastian won’t trust you easily. He never does with new people, even when he doesn’t remember who he truly is.”
“And you think I don’t know that after centuries of friendship?” Revel’s voice holds a sharp edge.
“Friendship,” I echo with a hollow laugh. “Is that what you call covering for him while he plays mortal?”
I don’t know what inspires the insult. Especially when I’m guilty of the exact same crime. He just embeds himself so deeply under my skin, I can’t stop myself.
He pauses what he’s doing and turns to face me fully. “I’d do anything for Sebastian. He would do the same for me.” His eyes narrow. “Not that you’d understand loyalty beyond obligation.”
“Thirty-three lifetimes of dying alongside my twin gives me some claim to loyalty, I think.”
We stare at each other in tense silence before Revel looks away first. “We should head out. I want to have a run in at the coffee shop on the ground floor of their building. If we’re late, we’ll miss them.”
“How convenient,” I mutter, but follow him toward the door.
“Try not to manifest visibly,” he warns. “I don’t need mortals screaming about ghosts on my first day here.”
I roll my eyes, though he can’t see it as I’ve already made myself invisible to him. Small rebellions are all I have left.
The coffee shop buzzes with morning activity—laptops open, business meetings in hushed tones, baristas calling out complicated drink orders. I spot Sebastian immediately.
In this life, he wears his success like a second skin. Expensive suit, perfectly trimmed dark hair, focused expression as he taps away at his laptop. He looks exactly as he did before I died in this timeline, except for the shadows under his eyes. Hunting down my killers with Jovie must be taking its toll.
Speaking of which?—
“I got you the dark roast with an extra shot,” Jovie appears, sliding into the seat across from my brother. Her soft brown hair is pulled back in a sensible ponytail, her smile genuine as she passes him the coffee. I don’t miss the similarities between her and his second-in-command. Perhaps it was the familiarity in her features that initially caught his attention.
Something twists inside me watching them together. Not jealousy exactly, but a hollow ache for what I’ll never have. In all our mortal lives, Sebastian and I have been bound together, two sides of the same coin. But here he is, willing to abandon everything—his divine duties, the cosmic balance,me—for love.
Revel walks confidently to the counter, positioning himself within Sebastian’s line of sight. I drift closer to hear their interaction.
“New in the building?” the barista asks with obvious interest.
“Just moved in across the street,” he replies with an easy charm that irritates me. “I’ll take whatever your specialty is.”
I watch Sebastian’s head lift slightly, his attention caught by the new voice. Always alert, my brother. Even without his memories, some instincts remain.
When Revel receives his drink and the barista’s number on a folded napkin, he deliberately walks past Sebastian’s table, pretending to search for an open seat. Then, as if by accident, he stops.
“Excuse me,” he says to my brother. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s decent takeout around here? Just moved to the neighborhood.”
An easy, lopsided grin forms on his lips as he falls into the likable, happy-go-lucky guy.
Sebastian studies him with barely concealed suspicion, his nose scrunching slightly. “Depends what you’re looking for.”
