“You would.” I rolled my eyes.
“This is not good enough!” Disani shouted. “Qaus told you of her arrival so that you'd take her magic and kill her. Not dress her up like a doll and play house.”
“He is, isn't he?” I gestured at my dress. “Of all the decades.” I shook my head. “I hate the 50s.”
“What's wrong with the 1950s?” Narcissus asked. “Men were manly and women were feminine. I thought you liked manly?”
“Not that kind of manly.” I made a face at him. “And women may have been feminine but it was in a submissive way because they were repressed. Of course, they weren't as repressed as the African-Americans who were getting abused and murdered in America simply for standing up for themselves. The 50s sucked.”
“But you could also say that African-Americans triumphed during that period and women grew stronger as well,” Narcissus countered. “It was the turning point.”
“The turning point was when Lincoln freed the slaves,” I argued. “The 50s was theboilingpoint.”
“As you say.” Narcissus shrugged.
“Is she a prisoner or a guest?” Qaus frowned at me.
“A guest,” Narcissus said.
“A prisoner,” I snapped at the same time.
“I see.” Qaus smirked.
The last time I'd met Qaus—in that wrong future—he'd been seriously pissed off at me. Seeing him calm was like meeting a different man. I studied him further.
“You wouldn't happen to know a bunch of Argentinian cannibal gods, would you?” I asked him casually.
Qaus' rainbow eyes widened in surprise.
“That answers that,” I muttered. So, I'd finally found the Gods behind the recent attacks. They had influenced Katila and the Argentinians. But why? “Is there a particular reason you're gunning for me?”
“A prophet told me you would kill me,” Qaus said as he stepped closer.
Qaus really was an attractive man; all those strong Arabic features paired well with the light eyes, or eyes of light, rather. He toned down the shifting rainbows and it became easier to look at him. I wasn't sure if he'd done it on purpose or if they had an automatic dimmer, but I was grateful. It's hard to stare down an enemy when you can't look them in the eyes.
“That's funny,” I said to him, “a prophet told menotto kill you.”
I'd managed to surprise him again. Qaus' head jerked back fractionally before he cocked it at me.
“Who told you not to kill me?” He asked softly.
“Silenus of the Greeks. He told me not to kill all three of you,” I said. That wasn't exactly what Silenus had said, but I wasn't about to tell Qaus that he had died in a false future... then again, maybe I should. “Actually, what he told me was to beware of false futures and to not let them lead me into action I shouldn't take.”
“Sounds appropriately prophetic.” Qaus grimaced. “But I fail to see how you got 'Don't kill Qaus, Gish, and Disani' from that.”
“All right, Rainbow God, I'm going to be straight with you.” I waved my hand at the couch. “Why don't you have a seat?”
Qaus sat down on the couch, and I resumed my seat on the loveseat set at a right angle to him. The other gods looked at each other in bafflement.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Narcissus asked.
“That's what I'm trying to figure out,” Qaus said. “Sit down, everyone.”
They sat. I lifted a brow at Qaus. My suspicions were confirmed; he was their leader.
“Go on, Godhunter,” Qaus said.
“A few years ago, when I was pregnant with my son; not yet sons, but that's another story.” I shook my head as Qaus lifted a dark brow. “I was kidnapped; summoned by a human, and trapped by my own blood.”
