“You think it might actually happen? A war?” I asked, worried about the repercussions.
“For everyone’s sake, I hope not. But your existence has brought up some complicated politics and the answer won’t be as straightforward as we’d like it to be. It may be my responsibility, but no one is truly victorious in the spoils of war.”
“Can you stop it?” I asked, curious about the extent of his gift.
“I aid in it,” he replied. “War makes my blood sing, but I won’t be used as a pawn in a play that could potentially hurt my Sloan. I doubt it will come to a war. We have other issues to concern ourselves with.”
Curiosity gripped me tight. “Such as?”
Andreas raised an eyebrow. “I shouldn’t tell you anything when you aren’t officially an Elysian.”
“Gray will tell me if he knows,” I pointed out.
“Already using what you have around you to your advantage? Sloan said you were smart.”
My cheeks burnt at the comment. “I’m not using him.”
“I know, but some may think you are. Thicken your skin, Quentin.” He sighed and looked at the bickering minor Gods as he spoke. “Gods are ceasing to exist at an alarming rate. We’ve lost ten minor Gods since you’ve descended.”
“That’s unusual?”
“Highly. At worst, we’ve lost around two a month. Ten in a matter of weeks is making us question whether this project is really any help.”
“People are losing faith.”
“It would seem that way. Some of us wonder if it would be worth revealing ourselves to mortals again.”
“But you can’t because it might result in more demigods,” I finished the sentence.
“Correct. We’re in a strange state of limbo unless we get this project to work.”
I nodded my head slowly. E.L.I. was the Gods’ survival plan, and if I could get the results they needed, it would show them I was on their side. With matters resolved between me and Gray, I could busy myself in work properly again.
“Quentin,” Marcel called, pulling me from my thoughts. “Do you have any whiskey? This conversation needs alcohol.”
“It’s not even midday,” I said, laughing.
“We’re Gods, Quentin.” He leaned forward like he was letting me in on a secret. “The rules don’t apply.”
Gareth’s house was empty apart from the three of us. No audience for whatever matter had rankled my brother this time. As we joined Hunter, I wondered how the three of us ended up so different. Our gifts no doubt had a hand in the way we ended up. Mine made me a pariah, but Hunter and Erik had never been close. Love and protection. It should have been a match that allowed them to form a bond that excised me from their lives, and yet Erik trailed after me from the moment he was born.
“Punctuality is deeply appreciated, Grayson. How is it difficult to respond to a simple message?” Hunter drawled as I dropped into a chair. “Or were you too busy fucking your half-breed to care about the rest of Elysia?”
Yes. And it’s the best fuck I’ve had. Why care about the heavens when I’m balls deep in my personal slice of it?
It would have been easy to let my mouth run, but that wouldn’t have helped, and I was still unsure about what this meeting was called for.
“I’m here now,” I replied tightly. “Is there a reason that the entire council isn’t here, or are you content with just making the family miserable?”
“This is a conversation to be kept between the three of us,” he said, hands gripping the arms of the chair he was sitting in.
“Your trust in us is appreciated.”
“And misplaced.”
“Hunter.” Erik moved, so he was standing between us. “What’s the matter?”
He shifted in his chair and leaned forward, elbows on knees. Pressing two fingers together, he motioned for Erik to move aside, and Erik complied. Without the physical barrier, Hunter’s icy blue eyes stared straight at me. When I was younger, this intimidation tactic worked. His gaze was enough to make me lower my head and listen. Now, it was a laughable move from a weak man.
