Page 21 of Godsbane
“Would my name make a difference to you,Ivy?”
There’s a song often played in the temples whose arrangement is said to bring tears to the eyes of the gods. It’s stunning, achingly beautiful in composition and even it pales in comparison to how my name sounds on his lips. And he doesn’t just say it, he practicallypurrsit.
“It’s a start,” I breathe through the lusty, magical haze clouding my vision. There’s barely any distance between us but I’m grateful for every sliver of space that allows me to keep my wits. I have to keep them if I’m to have any chance of succeeding at my mission.
He is my ally, nothing more.
“To what end?” he asks.
“To you showing me who you really are.”To you showing me how I can use you.
One truth I say aloud, the other I keep only for myself.
His calloused fingers grip my chin, forcing me to look fully into his gray eyes. A silver fire burns in them that mimics the scorching I feel in my veins.
“Why would you want to see the real me?”
“Call me a masochist, but I like to know who’s leading me to my death.” I snap my mouth shut in an attempt to take back the secret I didn’t mean to divulge.
“Death. Is that who you think I am?”
My voice trembles with each word I speak. “Who you are remains to be seen, Captain.”
Murphy drops his hand and steps back as quickly as he approached. The air around us is cold but the tension between us is warm—too warm. He turns to head for his room but stops suddenly, looking over his broad shoulder with a sly smile.
“My name isn’t Death,” he starts. “It’s Callan, but you can call me Cal.”
He disappears swiftly into the tiny broom closet, slamming the door behind him and leaving me alone in the hallway.
Callan.
Cal.
I repeat it back to myself slowly. It’s not a unique name—in fact, it’s fairly common. But something about the way he saidCalsteals the breath from my lungs.
It feels eerily familiar, intimate almost. Like I’ve said it a thousand times.
And then it hits me.
Ihavesaid it a thousand times, maybe more. The scenario and the circumstances always change but that name never does. The face that I never see, the dread that always comes, the name that I always call out in my nightmares.
Cal.
CHAPTER 9
Iam completely and totally fucked.
The thought replays over and over in my head as I scrub away the mud that has buried itself under my nails, in the folds of my arms, and on the roots of my hair. The magic and the tattoo weren’t omen enough, no, his name has to be the connective tissue in all of my nightmares. The single syllable from his lips is the final nail in my coffin.
“Is that what you all sit around and do for fun?” I taunt the gods. “You just toy with people’s lives like we’re dolls. Is this all some big game to you?”
I don’t expect an answer, which is good because I don’t get one. The gods only care about their own amusement—and what better game for them than to bind my fate to the Captain of Corinth … toCal.
Even thinking his name sends a shiver down my spine. I have to figure out how best to use him against Marks before whatever end the gods have planned catches up with us.
The coals under the cast iron tub are embers, the now chilly water cloudy with the dirt I washed from my skin and hair. I grab the poor excuse for a towel and wrap the thin fabric around me before opening the door to the cold hallway. I’m all but runningto my room when the sound of a creaking door stops me in my tracks. Out steps Captain Callan Murphy wearing nothing but a towel slung low across his hips.
We’re not indecent, but this moment feels too intimate. I saw his tattoo from a distance last night, but it’s closer now. The way the ebony ink ripples across his pecs as he stalks towards me makes the beast appear to open and close its jaw. It’s tail disappears completely under the towel and, in a momentary lapse of judgement, I wonder where it ends.
