Page 66 of Gods of Prey
“The morgue downtown is overflowing,” I add. “I checked. People who should be crossing over are just lingering. Their souls can’t find the path to Umbraeth. I’m sure Erebus is having a fit, but I’m terrified to send a messenger to ask.”
I told him about my time in Umbraeth after he woke up the following day. We agreed that telling Sebastian would only make him more volatile, but Revel’s mood has taken a nosedive as we realize the end approaches.
It’s odd to admit, but I sort of miss the version of him I’ve come to know in this realm. Even though we’re still here, it feelslike his loyalties have shifted back to where they always were: With Sebastian.
He finally turns to me, his eyes dark with worry. “How much longer can we contain this?”
I shake my head. “It’s not about containment, really. It’s about how long it’ll take them to decide on a punishment. Maybe a few more days.”
“He’s stalling,” he says quietly.
“Obviously.” I drift closer to the window, watching the unnatural cloud formations spiral overhead. “The question is why. He knows the consequences of staying.”
“Maybe he’s scared she won’t adapt well,” Revel suggests, but his tone tells me he doesn’t believe it.
I laugh bitterly. “Please. Jovie is stronger than half the gods I know. Sebastian’s not worried about her adaptation.”
“Then, what?”
Before I can answer, there’s a knock at Revel’s door. We exchange a look—Sebastian and Jovie are supposed to be in the middle of a lesson.
Revel opens the door to find her standing there alone, looking determined.
“Can I talk to both of you?” she asks, then pauses, looking around the empty apartment. “I mean, I assume Sienna is here, too.”
I materialize, curious. “How did you know?”
“Sebastian’s been teaching me to sense energy signatures,” she says, stepping inside. “Yours feels different from Revel’s. Colder.” When I raise an eyebrow at that, she rushes to add, “but not in a bad way. More like...moonlight.”
Revel closes the door behind her. “Where’s Sebastian?”
“Taking a shower. He thinks I’m meditating.” Jovie moves to the center of the room, wrapping her arms around herself. “Ineed to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”
I exchange another look with Revel. This feels like dangerous territory.
“What is it?” Revel asks carefully.
“How bad is it? The imbalance, I mean.” Her voice is steady, but I can see the worry in her eyes. “Sebastian keeps saying we have time, that I need to learn slowly, but...I can feel it.” She gestures toward the chaos outside. “I mean, obviously, I can see it too. Not as much as you can. But even as a mortal, I can feel something wrong with the world.”
I drift closer, studying her face. “What do you feel?”
“Everything’s...sticky,” she says, struggling for words. “Like the universe is holding its breath. And sometimes I see things, like shadows where there shouldn’t be shadows, lights that don’t have sources.” She looks directly at me. “People who should be dead but aren’t quite gone yet.”
Revel and I are silent. She’s more perceptive than we realized, even with Sebastian sheltering her.
“So I’ll ask again,” Jovie continues. “How bad is it?”
Revel runs a hand through his hair. “Bad. Getting worse every day.”
“How much worse?”
I decide to be blunt. “Seattle’s death toll should have been thirty-seven people this week. Only twelve have actually died. The other twenty-five are stuck in limbo.”
Jovie pales but doesn’t flinch. “And the longer Bash stays . . . ”
“The worse it gets,” Revel finishes. “Eventually, the fabric between realms could tear entirely.”
“How long do we have?”
