“It’s clear now that we were wrong. Otherwise you never would have been able to pierce our boundaries and take the powers. But let’s be clear here. You weren’t doing it out of any sense of loyalty to Ordinary. You waited for your chance, found your loophole, and would just as soon seen this vacation town wiped off the map. You’ve been angling for this for years. Waiting for your chance to tear Ordinary apart. You can’t stand anyone—mortals, creatures, or gods—to live somewhere where you can’t boss them around.”
“Don’t assume you know me, Delaney.”
Sure, he sounded aloof and bored, but I’d been around gods all my life. I knew when they were bluffing. He didn’t like Ordinary and he never had. He’d do anything to take it apart.
“I’m going to counter your demands with a question, and I’d like you to answer with the truth.”
He raised one eyebrow. I was pretty sure he was incapable of lying.
“Go on.”
“Why haven’t you ever vacationed in Ordinary? Maybe a little time off experiencing the world through mortal eyes would be a good thing. You know you’re welcome—have always been welcome. No matter what you think of me or my family line, I swear to you I will do everything in my abilities to keep your power safe, and to make your vacation an enjoyable one.”
“I would never willingly abandon my power. Never.”
Yep. That’s pretty much what I’d expected. Still, I had to give it a shot. One of the important things to remember was that while I was the bridge for powers to be stored in Ordinary, and the law the gods would have to follow while in Ordinary, I was also the human who had the most chance to ease the gods into the idea that taking a little time off could be a good thing. A great thing.
It was my job to let them know Ordinary was there, waiting and welcome.
“Twenty-four hours, Delaney, or I will offer the position of warden to someone else.”
“My sisters won’t take it. I know them.”
He nodded slightly. “I wouldn’t offer it to them. I have some standards.”
“Don’t,” I said. “You have no power over me, Mithra. Nor over my blood. But I won’t sit here and let you insult my sisters. Don’t think I won’t punch you in the throat for that.”
Something shifted on his face, and for a second, brief and fleeting and maybe mostly imaginary, I saw what looked like confusion or hurt. Then the flat stern judgmental face was back.
“Only a first born can become a warden,” he said rather more quietly than he had before. Almost apologetically.
“Oh.”
Well, this was awkward. Maybe he wasn’t as bad a being as I’d thought. Maybe he was just misunderstood.
“I’d offer it to Ryder Bailey.”
Nope. He was totally as bad a being as I’d thought. Worse.
“What?” Ryder choked out. “Me?”
“Him?” I said, just as startled. “Why?”
Mithra looked pleased as a cat in a box factory.
“He is first born. He is a son of the soil upon which he would lord over...”
“Lord over?” It came out a little loud. I didn’t care if anyone was staring at us, but from the level of noise in the place, I was pretty sure no one heard us.
“Lordover?” Ryder sounded like he was trying to comprehend a new language. Yeah, well I suppose if one didn’t believe in powers and gods, one might be having a hard time dealing with being hard-handed into a position of worship and lording over.
Was this how the dark side recruited? I was pretty sure this was how the dark side recruited.
“He is not going to serve the dark side,” I said.
“I’m—I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mithra said. “I am the god of justice. Contracts. Oaths. I am not a god of dark sides.”
“Is that what this is?” Ryder asked. He had turned so he could see me, though I noticed his eyes kept shifting to Mithra. “Is he a Sith lord?”
