“I’ve gone by many names over the centuries, and every single one was a truth I answered to. What else would you have me say to make this right?”
“I don’t know if you can.”
Knowing that he’d been lied to for so long by someone he considered a friend—someone who was the family he’d picked—hurt. It made Patrick want to scream, to punch something or someone, and while he thought Gerard might let him, he had a feeling Jono would hold him back.
“I would have told you who I was at the end of the Thirty-Day War when we learned your truth, but you weren’t in a place to hear it, and I couldn’t risk showing who I was in the middle of that fight. I didn’t want Ethan to steal my godhead for that spell of his. Maybe that makes me selfish, but I like to think it makes me human,” Gerard said quietly.
Patrick glared at him, his jaw sore from how hard he was clenching his teeth. “You still should have told me. I shouldn’t have had to learn who you really were likethis.”
Gerard nodded, his shoulders slumping a little as he rubbed at his eyes with one hand. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve already said that. I don’t fucking care that you’re sorry.”
Because it hurt that he’d been lied to by someone he considered a close friend who turned out to be a god. Patrick didn’t care about what Gerard had to say, because all his words were just noise right now. They didn’t mean anything, and Patrick wasn’t sure they ever would again. He couldn’t trust whatever Gerard said, because he knew he would always wonder if the other man was telling the truth.
Gerard stared at him with an unreadable look in his silver eyes, a weight to his gaze—to his aura—that Patrick wondered how he could have ever missed the signs of a god over the years. Halflings were one thing, but immortals were something else entirely, and Patrick used to think he knew what to look for when gods appeared in front of him.
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’d been fooling himself all along.
“I’ve stood vigil for every man and woman who has ever fought with me over the years, and I will stand vigil for you when your time comes to pass on, whether you like it or not. Because I owe it to you as your captain, and as your friend, even if you never think of me as either again after this,” Gerard said into the tense silence that had fallen between them.
“I don’t want your prayers.”
Gerard smiled sadly. “I never gave them to you.”
Patrick rocked backward, bumping against Jono as he did so. A strong arm wrapped around his waist, steadying him, and Patrick leaned into that support because if he didn’t, he knew he’d bruise his knuckles on Gerard’s face.
“Keith still pissed at you?”
“They all are.”
“Good.”
“You can stay behind for this fight if you want. You don’t owe me Órlaith’s life.”
“Shut the fuck up. We have a mission.”
Patrick drew in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He gave himself one goddamn minute to let the anger wash over him before he gathered it all up and shoved it down deep into a corner of his mind. Patrick was excellent at compartmentalizing his life when he had to, and he needed to do that now.
Later, he would hole up somewhere with a bottle of whiskey to drink himself stupid. Right now, there were more important things to worry about. He opened his eyes, anger still a bitter taste on his tongue. He swallowed it down until he couldn’t taste anything at all.
“The rider of the Wild Hunt was a woman. Tiarnán said we had it wrong, that the Wild Hunt was led by Gwyn ap Nudd,” Patrick said, steering the conversation away from the shattered pieces of a friendship he wasn’t sure could ever be rebuilt.
“I didn’t see him that night outside the bar,” Gerard said after a moment, willing to concede the conversation to Patrick’s stubborn insistence.
“Tiarnán made it seem as if Gwyn ap Nudd would never relinquish his position.”
Gerard made a face. “He’d be right. For once.”
“You don’t seem to care for the bloke. Why is that?” Jono asked.
“I exiled myself to the mortal plane. Tiarnán never got that choice.”
“What did he do?”
“Does it matter? He’s been trying to get back into Brigid’s good graces for centuries. Finding Órlaith would do that. I don’t think he would have asked for your help if he knew your association with me at the time.”
“Bargain still stands. He owes us if we find Órlaith.”
