Page 85 of Until the End of Ever
“Right. It’s fine. Nothing to do with any prophecy. None of us are going to end up even a little bit dead, let alone beyond death.”
I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself.
“Besides, I’vebeenbeyond death. It’s not that scary. The underworld’s not nearly as bad as a London subway at rush hour.”
I gasped. “Wait, what if that’s what they meant by beyond death? Like,theunderworld. Wouldn’t that suggest Hades to you?”
“Sure. But then we have the sea bit, and also, the one who judges all.”
I groaned, in agreement. “Prophecies are rarely understood preemptively.”
“Except Orestes. The oracle just told him, go murder your mom.”
I cracked a grin. “Why couldn’t I get one of those prophecies?”
I was, naturally, only joking, but Lucian’s eyes were void of humor when he held my gaze.
“Would you?” he asked. “Murder your mother. If you needed to.”
I gave it serious thought, really considering the question. I wasn’t one for violence or murder. But if I needed to? If it was supposed to save someone I cared about, or myself? I was ashamed to admit that the answer was a resounding yes. In fact, I’d hesitate to kill his mother more than mine.
“Depends on what she would have done. Murder is a reasonable solution to some predicaments.”
“And that, Kleos Valesco, is why I’m keeping you.”
I flushed as he pressed his lips to my forehead.
Keeping me.
Would he? For how long? He kept dodging any talk of permanence, any mention ofdeals, when he’d been more than happy to make one with that Briar girl.
“What’s for dinner?” Cassius asked, strolling into the kitchen.
“You know, you could cook some time,” Lucian chastised him, without much heat.
“Any day. Would you like turtle soup or akratisma?”
“Never mind,” Lucian grumbled.
“Akratisma?” I repeated.
“Criminally dry barley bread, dipped in wine.” Lucian wrinkled his nose. “With olives, and if he’s feeling particularly mean, unripe figs. And I made ragù, Cassius. We have guests tonight.”
“Excellent!” he sat at one head of the table. “Is that Lucky girl coming with libations, by any chance?”
And here I thought his vocabulary was modern.
“Likely. We also have a couple of valers. Kleos’s cousin and her best friend.”
Gray eyes found mine. “Any friend of Kleos is welcome in our home. Will I need to restrain myself from murdering anyone?”
“The short one, possibly. But she’s hard to kill. Feel free to give it a go.”
I shook my head. “Hey! We’re not attempting to murder my best friend.” To Cassius, I said, “I’ll make sure she’s on her best behavior.” After a second, I tilted my head. “I have to wonder if you had a similar conversation about me.”
“No?” Cassius lied—poorly.
“Absolutely,” Lucian replied at the same time.
