His finger skimmed his bottom lip, his gaze flicking over my legs, currently on show given I’d snuck out here in my sleep shorts and tank top. “I offered, and you accepted.”
I couldn’t deny it. I tilted my chin in the air. “You failed to negotiate terms.”
I was treading a delicate and dangerous line. At any moment, this god could decide he was done with games and squash me much like the humans he viewed as insects. But for someunknown reason, he had plans for me to be by his side, and that put me in a position of power.
“The date, Cora.”
“I’m busy avoiding the apocalypse. I can’t just run off to the movies or the aquarium every day.”
“Then pick a day of the week, because until I have your company, I will continue to leak my power to your grandmother.”
“You feed it to her even now?”
He pursed his lips. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“It is the deal I made. I would strengthen her if she were weakened.”
I blinked. Ugh, the severing. I needed him not to fix what we had broken. “Friday.”
It was Monday, right? My brows drew together. Or was it Tuesday?
“Tonight, then. I shall come for you at eight. Wear something fit for the queen you are.” He vanished.
Wait, that couldn’t be right. The solstice was on a... Thursday this year. I groaned and banged my head against the family tree.
“You seem perturbed, granddaughter.”
I froze. Wasn’t one god enough for one day?
“Are you in my head?” I whispered.
“Not today. I thought you would benefit from an in-person visit.”
I dragged in a breath, found my balls, and lifted my head to stare at God. What did one say to the architect of the world?
“Hi.”Good start, Cora.
He offered a kind, warm, all-knowing smile. Was it my imagination, or did he appear to be older than the last time we met? Perhaps he was tired. I would relate to that.
“Hello.” He dragged a stool from the edge of the room and took a perch opposite me, offering his hand. I placed mine in his. Peace curled around my soul and settled my racing heart. He nodded at the fertility statue. “Nothing more precious than children.”
I shook my head. “I can’t even think about babies right now. The world is on the brink of war. It would be selfish to bring a child into that.”
“It’s a heavy burden you bear,” he said.
“No more than others fighting for survival.”
He tsked. “You disparage yourself so quickly. It is in your blood to do so. Fall upon the sword, so to speak.”
Not sure any Roberts woman has fallen on a sword, and my father didn’t understand the termself-deprecating.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Maybe you are right, but your father is more torn than he shows.”
“You heard that?”
“I hear all.”
