“That must be exhausting. Do you have a good therapist?”
He snorted. “I do believe I’m going to enjoy getting to know you, Cora.”
His eyes swam with the stars of the universe before settling back to blue. “Does getting to know me involve some wise words for dealing with gods who have a claim on your time and blood?”
God booped me on the nose with his free hand. “You are my granddaughter. No one has a claim on your blood, not even a forgotten god.”
I frowned. “But the pact.”
He swept his gaze around the room. “You have all the answers you seek at your fingertips.”
“A god trumps an archangel,” I pointed out.
“Agreed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“How is your mate?” he asked. “Have you forgiven him yet?”
Did God just change the topic? Why? “I’m working on it.”
He nodded. “Good people often make bad decisions for good reasons. Don’t underestimate the value of strong ties to people you love. It is what will save you in the end.”
“Or lead you to your doom.”
“Only if you pick the wrong person.”
“I wasn’t aware I had any choice.”
“You always have a choice. Just know that yours impacts the future of the world you fight and bleed for.”
“Which is the right one?”
“Depends on your goal.”
“Any hints?”
“You know I can’t interfere.”
Every word was making me more confused. He patted my hand and stood. With a flick of his hand and a wink, a gust of wind moved through the vault and he disappeared.
A book fell from a shelf at the back, and I rose from my stool and strode across the vault. The deep red, ancient leather-bound cover etched in gold thread shimmered faintly as I approached. There was no title, just a faint symbol of a tree with its roots on fire impressed into the hide.
I crouched, and the pages turned, not by my hand, but by some unseen will. They stopped at the center, where a family tree sprawled across parchment so delicate it looked like pressed ash. Names were elegantly scrawled in an ancient language, with faint halos drawn around the descendants.
I reached out, my fingertip hovering above the page, but the ink pulsed, and a whisper curled around my mind like smoke. The past echoed and then stretched like it was waking from a long slumber.
I pulled back, my breath fogging in the suddenly chilly air. At the bottom of the page, a name emerged beneath the ink,like something exhaled from the paper itself. I didn’t know the language, but I knew the feeling it carried.
Ancient. Female. Buried.
On the final name at the very bottom, wings unfurled before my eyes.
I closed the book, but the symbol on the cover burned brighter than before, its roots still smoldering.
“What did you leave me to find, Grandfather?”And what did you bury in my blood?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
