Page 54 of Gods of Prey
And waited.
Revel’s panties have progressively gathered in a bunch with every passing minute. He began his incessant pacing about twenty minutes ago and I knew then that our argument would be receiving a revival.
He stops moving and fixes me with those piercing gray eyes. “What would you like me to say? That I’m impressed by your reckless endangerment of our mission? That I think it was brilliant to help a mortal hunt down a trained killer?”
I manifest more solidly, crossing my arms. “Jovie isn’t just any mortal. She’s Sebastian’s?—”
“She’s human,” Revel cuts me off. “And you put her in danger because you, what? Wanted to play vigilante? Wanted to relive your mortal friendship?”
I blanch at that. When Jovie contacted me yesterday, asking for help with tracking down Gregory Voss, I should have refused. Should have told her to let Sebastian handle it. Instead, I found myself drawn into her plan, helping her orchestrate the perfect trap in that parking garage basement.
But Revel doesn’t get to pass judgment toward me when his own friend took the man’s life right in front of him and he didn’t have anything to say about it.
“She would have gone after him with or without my help,” I say defensively. I refuse to admit to him that I made a mistake. “At least this way, she had backup.”
“Backup?” Revel laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re a ghost, Sienna. What exactly were you going to do if things went wrong? Haunt him to death?”
I drift closer, my temper flaring. “I protected her. Kept her identity obscured. Kept him diffused so he didn’t attack. I mitigated Sebastian’s magic when he?—”
“When he what?” Revel interrupts. “When he used his divine powers to kill the man with his bare hands? When he fully embraced his identity as the God of Life and fucked us all by dealing Death?”
I fall silent. That part had been...unexpected. And infuriating. I’ve watched my brother kill without hesitation many times before, but having it happen with an audience felt so wrong. Admitting that part will lead to admitting everything else, and I can’t do that yet.
And anyway, it’s not like Revel will confront him about it. He’ll take all his frustration out on me instead.
“He remembers,” I whisper again. If I can bring the conversation back to what actually matters, I won’t make any accidental confessions.
“Obviously.” Revel resumes his pacing. “The question is, how much? And what does this mean for our plan?”
I think back to the moment in the parking garage when Sebastian’s glowing green eyes had met mine across the concrete space. There had been recognition there. Not just of me as his dead sister, but of something deeper. Something divine.
“Well, he definitely looked at me like he knew,” I admit. “Like he remembered who I really am. He called his divine energy in without issue. I’d guess that means he’s back.”
Revel runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks genuinely worried. “This changes everything. If he remembers but still chooses to stay the way he said...”
“Then we’ve failed,” I finish quietly.
The weight of that possibility settles between us. I drift to the couch, sinking down onto it even though I don’t need to sit. The exhaustion I feel isn’t physical. It’s something much heavier. Soul-deep.
“What was he talking about back there, about you abandoning your realm twice?”
Ugh. This is exactly what I was dreading. I’d hoped he had dropped it. That the other events of the night had distracted him enough to make him forget.
Of course, that was foolish. Revel is tenacious and headstrong. He’d never let it go.
Straightening my spine, I lift my chin—a weak attempt to look more confident than I feel. Maybe if I deliver the news with my head held high, he won’t be as inclined to attack me for it.
He’s been begging for answers and I’ve successfully dodged giving them to him.
Until now.
“This isn’t the first time Sebastian and I have experienced this mortal life.” By some miracle, my voice is more steady than I feel.
He tilts his head, looking less human than ever as he attempts to make sense of my words. “What does that mean?” He finally asks.
“It means that when Jovie died, Sebastian somehow managed to jump timelines, and the rest of us had no choice but to follow.”
His brows shoot up, lips parting. “You two tampered with time?” The words come out as hardly more than a whisper, as if Myelle might overhear and strike us down right here and now.
