Page 97 of Another Damned Storm
Just the sight of Thrain raised the hair on my arms, pulled to attention by the white-hot anger that raced across my skin. Butit didn’t make sense that he would bring Never to this place, of all places.
“Why?” I bit out.
“I suspect because he was woefully close to losing his last battle.”
I blinked. Did he mean?
No.
He couldn’t mean that.
“Do you mean to tell me Never could have killed him?” I asked.
It was a ridiculous question. One god could not kill another unless the power imbalance between them was significant. And Never wasn’t really a god. She was a human who shared my godly powers.
Iapetus tipped his head. “She very nearly did.”
But how? Thrain and I battled fiercely, and despite his supposed weakness, he still managed to get the upper hand. All the lightning in the human world wouldn’t have been enough to finish me off, but he was nothing to sniff at as a foe.
“I don’t understand. She doesn’t have that kind of power,” I said, tossing another quick glance behind me.
Her skin had regained its healthy human hue. Her fingers were now just fingers, without the deadly talons sticking out the ends. And her eyes were the same blue that had enchanted me on that very first day on the beach.
“A minor correction, Atlas. Sheshouldn’thave that kind of power, but she quite clearly does.”
“This is what I warned you about.” I turned my head to see Nerebis, flanked on each side by his brothers Serus and Tenebris. The three fates.
I ground my teeth. How fitting that they decided to make an appearance. “You gave me a vague warning about the fabric of the human realm unraveling.”
Nerebis shot me a patronizing look. “I also warned you the stain on her soul could grow given enough time.”
Vague warnings. Coulds and mights. “Never was right. You don’t know what will happen, do you? You’ve seen a human gifted the power of a god before, but one with demon blood?” That was new territory for everyone.
“As I told you on your ship,” Nerebis said, shifting uncomfortably. “Her continued existence poses a threat to the very fabric of the worlds.” He spread an arm out. “Look at everything you’ve seen recently. Can you deny the truth?”
A bitter, feminine laugh drew all eyes to Never. “The truth, Nerebis?” She was still on her hands and knees, her head hanging like she was too tired to lift it.
Her image was a perfect reflection of the energy and emotions drifting along our connection. Save for her innate spark of defiance. That became evident to all when she rolled back onto the balls of her feet and pulled herself to standing, her eyes lighting with a dull amber glow.
What they didn’t know was how much effort that tiny act of defiance required, but I felt it. The energy she’d used to pull herself back, to bottle up whatever was inside her, was far more than even my shared power could replenish in a few short minutes.
“Here’s the truth as I see it,” she said, swaying just a touch before she found her center.
Everything in me wanted to reach out and steady her, but lending my physical support now would be a sign of weakness. Maybe not in the eyes of this immortal council, but certainly in the eyes of the woman who owned my soul.
“I don’t think anything has simply happened,” she explained, meeting my father’s curious gaze before pinning her own on Nerebis. “The storms in the Nassa were triggered by the upheaval in Charleston, right? I was tied to the city and to theNassa, making me the logical link. But the storms were Thrain’s doing, weren’t they?”
“They were, but nothing is as simple?—”
“No shit, but I’m willing to bet it’s a hell of a lot simpler than you’ve made it out to be.” She rolled her neck from one side to the other, wincing when we all heard the audible pop. “Thrain created the storms to scare humans into believing in him and to hide the fact that one of the Brethren was summoning demons to terrorize my city.”
A few of the gods and goddesses of the council straightened, as well they should. Every one of them needed to pay close attention to what she had to say.
“That Brethren, Lapalme, just so happens to be my great-grand daddy,” she added. When there was no outward reaction from the council or the fates, her lips lifted in a smirk. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” She took a step forward, wavered the slightest bit, but ultimately held her own.
“How do you suppose a forgotten god like Thrain and an outcast demon like Lapalme crossed paths?” I asked, giving her a moment to gather herself.
She cast the briefest of glances my way in response, but gratitude fluttered along our connection.
