Page 109 of The Deer and the Dragon
“Global recognition,” she said with a smile. “Your fourth book. I want my name known—the one the masses have forgotten. Will you do that for me, Merit Finnegan? Put my name on human lips once more. Make them sip from the cup of my histories. Tell the story of my conquests. Fill my temples. The temple of Astarte.”
My mouth parted at the absurdity of the offer.
“I can’t fill temples…”
“Nonsense,” she said. “You are a goddess in your own right.” She propped her elbow onto the desk and flashed me her pearly teeth. “Every realm has a creation story. You create. You speak things into existence. The firstPantheonnovel sold more copies than the Edda. The old gods of your people have cups overflowing for the first time in centuries. Word has spread of Odin’s and Frigg’s prosperity since your short human life began. And it’s being done in a way so that they never have to step from the shadows to harvest whatyou sow. The Hellenic pantheon didn’t need the boost your second book brought, but the Greeks won’t deny what you did for them. That’s what I want.”
“And what do I get in return?” I asked, regretting it immediately.
Astarte laughed as she leaned back in her chair, interlacing her fingers. “You create life? So do I. You give birth to the written word. I’ll grant it within the womb. I just need you to do one thing for me.”
“What’s that?” My question came out as a rattled breath.
She pulled a pen from a cup that looked like a golden honeycomb and snatched a leaf of loose paper from immaculately stacked documents beside her. Her calligraphy soon filled the page with speed and grace. When she was finished, she wrote her name at the bottom and slid it over to me.
“Just sign this for me. And this time, don’t use your pen name.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
NOVEMBER 8, AGE SIX
After a long day at first grade where the kids found a hole in my shirt and spent every hour after lunchtime trying to slide things through the rip in my clothes without me knowing, I was sent to the after-school program to do crafts and play until my mom finished work. The daily activities were generally sparsely populated, with me and other low-income students whose parents couldn’t afford private daycare. But having poverty in common didn’t make the others any kinder. If anything, it gave them more to prove in establishing a hierarchy.
At least, that’s how I saw it in hindsight. At the time, there were only the bullies and the underlings.
The rec room was in shambles as boys toppled over a toy kitchen and chucked Legos at one another from across the room when the supervising teacher sat down and cried.
It was jarring enough that we all stopped what we were doing to watch her, cross-legged on the floor, face in her hands, as she cried. We’d broken her.
By the tender age of six, I knew I never wanted to have kids.
If she couldn’t survive children for a few hours after school, I wasn’t sure how I could handle it every hour of every day if I became a mom. Besides, I never wanted tobring a life into the world who would have to go through the rejection, the cold nights, the spankings, the torn clothes, the jeers, the punishments, the pain I’d gone through. Society didn’t need someone new to kick.
SEPTEMBER 2, AGE 26
I thought of my lifelong vow to be childless as the technician wrapped a band around my bicep, preparing me to take vials of my blood. I smiled at the woman in her bright white scrubs, knowing Caliban would slap the needle out of the woman’s hands if he realized I was volunteering blood to a god. Then again, given the events of the appointment, I was confident this wouldn’t be the only thing that would make him angry. I’d failed him on roughly every promise I’d made.
But I’d been the one who’d insisted on meeting Doctor Ayona today since I wasso desperateto get pregnant, so it would have raised more than a few eyebrows if I’d refused standard lab work to establish my current health and wellbeing. I could write a book on the ancient Canaanite religion as my fourth novel. Perhaps she’d done me a favor by taking the guesswork out of my future project. I’d had no choice. She hadn’t even needed to coerce me. I would either blow our cover or do whatever was required to get us what we needed. Besides, bloodwork was standard practice in any boring, human clinic. It should be fine…right?
“Make a fist for me?” the tech said, voice calm as gentle rain.
Cartoon pictures of Baal’s priests slicing themselves open in his honor flashed through my mind, my feelings about Sunday school were not unlike the traumatic flashes of a war veteran. Crimson illustrations filled my eyes as she pierced my skin. I inhaled sharply but did not flinch. I watched her fill one syringe, then another, then a third. She labeled them carefully with my name and case number.
When the technician finished with me, Jessabelle was waiting in the hall with a smile. Gone was the feral terror that’d been instilled in me in the moments her boss had called my intentions into question. I wasn’t sure if I’d been quick-thinking, lucky, or profoundly stupid. I guessed only time would tell. But for now, Jessabelle gestured for me to follow her down the stairs.
“We can’t tell you how excited we are to work with you,” Jessabelle said, voice practically glittering. Not only was she no longer trying to scare me, but even her professionalism had melted away into something that resembled fawning. “This means more to us than you could possibly realize.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said thickly. I didn’t want any of it. I didn’t want to have children or to have made deals with a true devil. All I’d wanted was to break the terraformed seal and set Caliban free.
Fauna was right. I was a goddamn idiot.
“We need twenty-four hours to get a few selections here,” Jessabelle said as she escorted me to the door, “but we’ll send planes for all of them to ensure you have the optimal experience. We’ll be ready for you tomorrow at five. Wear whatever makes you comfortable. We’ll provide alternate attire upon your arrival.”
“Sure, sure, five,” I agreed without looking at her. I just wanted to leave. At the rate of my recklessness, staying another minute longer would probably result in me bonding with Astarte and pledging my undying allegiance to the Phoenicians.
Unseasonable warmth hit me as I abandoned the air-conditioned museum to the Dumbass Formerly Known as Merit Finnegan. I tried to focus on my breathing, on the sound of my heels on the glittering black asphalt, on the absence of suffocating Juliet roses as cut grass and the distant scent of a freshwater lake wafted on the breeze. There was no way I’d get my pulse under control before I had to face the others.
I did my best to keep my pace normal as I walked backto the car, shooting a glance behind me to ensure Jessabelle had closed the door before I reached the car. Fortunately, the luxury vehicle had deeply tinted windows. I slid into the car and my eyes widened.
