"You're pretty handy with a blade." I whisked the eggs with a fork. "Picked that up during your shifter-warrior-fury days, I assume?"
She snorted, scooping a pile of mushrooms into the bowl. "Nah, Food Network. You'd be amazed what you can learn at two in the morning."
I barked out a laugh, caught off guard by her deadpan delivery. "Well, thank the gods for late night cable."
We worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the sizzle of the sauteing vegetables in the pan filling the small space. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this at ease. When was the last time I'd cooked with someone? Never, actually. I didn’t trust people near my food.
Rissa bumped my hip with hers, jerking me out of my reverie. "This smells amazing. I'm impressed."
"I live to exceed expectations." I winked at her. "Just wait 'til you taste it."
I set the plates on the small kitchen table, and we dug in. The frittata was light and fluffy, the veggies lending a nice freshness. Rissa made an appreciative noise as she took a bite.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, but a question was burning in my mind. I'd suspected it for a while now, but I had to know for sure. I swallowed my mouthful of food and kept my tone casual.
"You’re the goddess Sekhmet, right?"
Rissa's fork clattered onto her plate as her jaw dropped. She gaped at me, her brow furrowed in shock.
"Why in the world would you ask me that?" she demanded.
And that wasn’t a denial.
I shrugged, watching her mobile face. "I've been around a long time. So have you. Under another face, I knew you when you were Sekhmet, though I’ve just now put two and two together that you and she are the same. You’ve made a few changes to your appearance."
Her expression shuttered, vivid green eyes narrowing.
But I pressed on. "I've suspected for a while that you were one of the old gods."
Pausing, giving her a moment to consider what she wanted to say, I studied Rissa. The tense set of her shoulders, the guarded look on her face. Magically, her aura was similar to Sekhmet's, but somehow...less. Muted. Like a faded echo of the raw power that used to radiate from her.
Rissa leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She scrutinized me for a long moment, her gaze calculating.
"I guess the cat's out of the bag now," she finally said, her tone wry. "With my luck right now, everyone will know soon, I’m sure."
Silent, I waited for an answer.
Rissa’s shoulders slumped slightly as she came to a decision and met my gaze head on. "Yes. I'm a goddess."
I nodded slowly, processing this confirmation of my suspicion. Could this help the situation we were in? "Well, that explains a few things."
She snorted, rolling her eyes at my understatement. Tension eased from her frame, the air clearing between us.
"Glad to help," she muttered, picking her fork back up.
"What was it like in the beginning?" I asked, unable to stop the question. The revelation of Rissa's true identity had my mind spinning with possibilities. I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table.
Rissa laughed, a rich, throaty sound that filled the small space of the kitchen. She shook her head, her short black hair brushing against her angular cheekbones.
"In the very beginning, I wasn't really big on thinking," she admitted, her tone full of dry humor. "It was more about feeling back then. Before the humans, before the Neanderthals, when most life was in the ocean..."
Her gaze turned distant, as if she were peering back through the eons. "It was so peaceful. Just messy growth, stretching out endlessly in all directions."
My mind boggled for a moment. I was old, but she was implying a level of ancient I’d never encountered.
A small smile played at the corners of Rissa’s mouth. "And sometimes, fighting with my siblings."
I couldn't help but grin in response to that. The image of ancient gods squabbling like children was both reassuring and strangely humanizing.
