Page 36 of Surrendering Hope (The Hope Legacy)

“Didn’t Aphrodite start the Trojan war?” I ask.

Jed nods. “She was desperate for that golden apple.”

“Gods are so petty,” I decide, shuffling into the office.

Zee shoves his badass gloves on and delves into the glass cabinet where I spied a crown. I tug on the long drawer underneath Archan’s desk. It doesn’t budge. A smile touches my lips as I take out my lock picks and begin working.

“You look rather pleased with a locked drawer,” Jed notes as Emi lets out a little squeal and dons the diamond crown I saw when I was first here.

I jiggle the little tool and something pings inside the mechanism. “Bingo.”

I slide the drawer open and find… paperwork. Various bills from utilities are tacked together with a paperclip. I finger through them with a frown. “Why lock up bills?” I wonder.

Jed peers over my shoulder and slides open a hidden compartment. “He’s a control freak, Natia. If you haven’t figured that out by now, you haven’t been paying attention.”

The papers flutter into a drawer and I lift the twin serrated blades chained together. “What on Earth are these?”

Jed takes a small step back. “The Blades of Chaos.” I slice sideways into an imaginary foe before I balance one on the tip of my finger.

“They are perfect,” I mutter. They would be lethal. I slide my thumb over the groove in the hilt. “I bet they’re paranormal in origin.”

Jed narrows his eyes on the blades. “How do you know?”

“They’re so shiny.”

Zee snorts.

I swing around to face Jed. He takes another nervous step back. “The blades can be imbued with different things. Put them back before you hurt yourself,” he explains.

I narrow my eyes. “These can kill a god, can’t they?”

“In the right circumstances.” He points at the open drawer. “Now put them back.”

Sighing at the loss of the blades, I place them in the hidden compartment and slam the drawer shut. I spin around to find Jed glaring at a small safe hidden behind a landscape painting. Van Gogh? I suppose when you’re as old as dirt, you’re bound to collect precious things. “You know the code?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I did, Zac must have changed it.”

Zee spins, the same delighted expression on his face I had on mine at the prospect of breaking into some drawers. SIP taught us about the supernatural world, how to fight, how to protect. But like me, Zee gets bored, and two years ago we created the locks challenge. He opens one of the many pockets on his combat trousers and pulls out a stethoscope. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jed mumbles, stepping aside for Zee. Emi approaches, straightening her crown.

“Quiet,” Zee says, getting close to the safe. “Not a high tech model. Should be easy enough.” Maybe because gods don’t expect their shit to be broken in to.

That eerie quiet encompasses us as Zee goes to work. His face scrunches in concentration as his hand makes minute turns on the knob. Emi perches herself on the desk as Zee’s grin widens and he pulls open the door. A tiny click breaks the silence. Oh shit. “Wait!” Jed shouts as a boom echoes in the room. Wetness smatters my face, my stomach plummets and bile singes my throat. Who lost their head? Smoke fills the room and a wailing noise starts, that demands the attention of everybody in a three-mile radius. Jed grabs my hand. “Grab onto each other, this is going to hurt.” Someone grabs my breast.

“Not an opportunity to feel me up, Zee.”

“Not me,” Zee growls from Jed’s left.

Emi giggles. “Sorry, that’s me.” My shoulders relax - we’re all alive.

“Good thing we’re friends,” I mutter.

Zee snorts. “If that’s a perk of being friends, count me in.”

“Pervert.”

“Prude.”

The world spins, slower than usual. Teleporting this many of us at once must be difficult. Pressure builds in my head, the flimsy membrane of my shields wobbles. I suck in a breath. Please no, not again. “Jed,” I cry out as the swirls of color thread through my fingers.

---