How classy.
Galene’s laugh is pure amusement. “No one could ‘pimp’ Syntyche out, I assure you. Though your mother will never admit it, I sensed how deeply she respected Pietro. She was fond of him. Years later, when a noble act nearly took Pietro’s life, he became one of the few mortals whom she has ever pardoned from a true brush with death. He deeply cherished and adored her, even knowing who and what she is. It wasn’t the type of lovemost know, but it was the nearest thing to it that your mother has ever experienced.”
Her soft, echoed words evaporate along with the surge of memories. I jolt back to myself and quickly realize I’m back inside the oversized hoodie I stashed my to-do list in last. I’m straddling Crypt’s lap, facing him as he holds me in one of the wooden chairs in our quintet apartment kitchen. Just like the bedroom, it’s far less cold everywhere in our quintet apartment.
A sign that Everett’s curse is gone. Everything is slowly thawing.
The others are in here, too. Baelfire is dressed in only shorts as he stirs something on the stove. Silas is carefully combining potion ingredients at the table beside us, and Everett is on the opposite end of the table wearing his adorable-as-fuck reading glasses as he rubs his temple, scowling down at a handwritten letter.
The moment Crypt sees that I’m out of the trance, he grins. “There’s our girl. How was your latest stroll down memory lane, darling?”
I’m still reeling from all the information returned to my brain. Amadeus’s mysterious past, the gods’ limits, how I came to be...
It doesn’t take a mathematician to run the numbers and realize Syntyche must have spared Pietro Amato’s life right after he took a beating for trying to stop Asher Douglas’s father. If there wasn’t such a high chance that Douglas’s father was already dead, I’d consider tracking him down to kill him myself. Maybe I’ll ask the mercenary about it later.
Refocusing on Crypt, I start to answer his question, but my gaze locks onto his neck. There are still light and dark swirlsthere, but…there used to be more. I noticed it during sex, too. Several markings are missing on his hands, legs, and torso.
I give him a stare-down, speaking only to him telepathically.Where are the rest of your markings?
He studies me for a moment before kissing my forehead.Later, love. There’s enough going on as is.
That’s a fucking brush-off if I’ve ever heard one.
We’re interrupted when Baelfire blurs to our side, holding the stirring spoon in one hand and gently tipping my chin up with his other so he can have my attention. Damn, he looks good in a collar. All of his delicious golden muscles are on display as he smiles down at me. There’s no more pain or feral gleam in his molten amber eyes—just the characteristic excitement of my charming match.
“You were out of it for a while. How’re you feeling, Raincloud?”
Honestly? Aside from the memories still settling in my head, I feel incredible. Powerful.
Like I’mtheirsagain.
With the heart pumping steadily in my emblem-marked chest, I feel stronger, too. The difference is so clear to me now that it’s no wonder I felt like my holy magic was so weak. It was all going toward keeping me alive.
But now that I have my matches back, a heart beats in my chest, we’re bound again, and I’ve fucked them senseless for hours on end…it may be time to address the bad news I’ve been trying like hell not to think about.
It’s only fair to warn them.
I clear my throat. “We may have a problem.”
“What else is new?” Everett deadpans, glancing up from the letter he’s been reading.
“I made a blood oath.”
Silas nods as he discreetly de-stemsreveriumto add to the potion ingredients. How odd. Is he making something for Crypt? I don’t think my incubus notices.
“We know,sangfluir. The Nether humans are free thanks to that oath.”
“Another one,” I clarify. “I made another blood oath.”
Four heads whip toward me so fast it would be comical if my quintet didn’t look half shocked and half livid.
“What?” Everett sputters, ripping off his reading glasses to give me the full force of his penetrating blue stare. “When? And who the hell did you make the oath to?”
“Arati.”
“What?”they all shout at once as Baelfire accidentally snaps the stirring spoon in half.
Their voices are surprisingly harmonious together, but now probably isn’t the time to mention it when they’re all swearing and reacting so strongly.
