Page 48 of Gods of Prey
“And me?” I ask. “He’s already suspicious of my presence.”
I’m not sure why it makes him so uncomfortable. Before he reset the timelines, I was his invisible accomplice in all his murders. I supposed knowing that Jovie can see me too is unsettling for his mortal brain. Before, he chalked my presence up to his own insanity. He can’t do the same now without insulting the woman he loves.
Jovie’s lips quirk into a small smile. “Is that what we’re calling it? Two women conspiring behind the backs of the men in their lives?”
I laugh, the sound echoing strangely in my spectral form. Revel is hardlyinmy life.
For a moment, I’m back in my mortal form, sitting across from Jovie at that little café in Styx, watching her laugh over something I’d said. Before the order took me. Before my brutal death.
“We haven’t talked about the past. Or the other timeline,” Jovie suddenly mutters, her voice soft. It’s like she knows that’s where my thoughts traveled without me voicing them. “I remember most of it,” she quickly tacks on.
“No, we haven’t,” I say slowly.
“You knew who I was already, didn’t you? When you came into the café?” she hesitantly asks. Her teeth leave indents in her bottom lip where she nibbles.
I hesitate. Revel would be furious if he knew I was here, confirming the existence of another timeline. But Jovie deserves some truth.
“I did,” I admit. “Sebastian became obsessed with you before, and I wanted to understand why. I felt like it would explain how everything else...happened.”
How my brother managed to catapult us all onto a different timeline just to get another chance with you, is what I leave out. I’m not entirely sure she knows it was Bash who did it.
“I never got the chance to tell you thank you. That was a really difficult time for me, and you helped me through it. Regardless of your original intentions, I’d like to think we were friends.”
I quickly nod. “We were.”
For the first time ever, I had a friend. Arealone. Not like Erebus, who was forced to rule beside me against his will. Or thefake friendships I formed along other mortal lives. Maybe Revel is right—maybe I am playing both sides.
“I think there’s more to all of this than either of you are telling me.” Her brows tent upward, but she keeps her shoulders squared in an attempt to hold her ground.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. And I’m going to figure it out, one way or another.”
“You sound like someone I know,” I scoff, looking down at the laptop to avoid her questioning stare.
“I wish you would spare me the trouble and just be honest now.” Crossing her arms, she glares at me in a challenge.
Is that what all this was? Some manipulation tactic to get me to tell her everything?
What I wish I could tell her is how foolish she is.
It takes a concentrated amount of effort to hold my voice level and say, “I can’t do that.”
“Why?” she practically cries.
“Because Sebastian needs to remember who he truly is first.” I keep a stern tone with her like an adult scolding a child, leaving no room for argument.
Thisis why mortals shouldn’t delve into the matters of gods. They operate with their ego first and logic second.
She’s quiet for a long moment, then straightens her shoulders again like she’s silently settled the matter in her head. “Whatever. All the more reason to do this. If capturing Voss can help Bash remember who he is—whatever that means—then I’m in.”
“It’s not that simple–” I begin to warn, but she cuts me off again.
Seattle has made her feisty.
“It never is, but at least we get to punish one of these misogynistic pigs over it, right?”
She’s got a point there. And it’s not like I can explain why this is so against what Bash stands for.
