“Don’t worry about her,” Gilgamesh replied dismissively, reaching up to tap the golden circlet of the Crown of Anu that he’d incorporated into his lion-headed helmet. “Even the Coward Queen can’t threaten what she can’t reach.”
“I see,” Alexander said, even though there was no way he could. Alexander had never truly understood anything about Gilgamesh’s great work, but that was why the king trusted him. Clever, creative sons like Leander and Adrian had their uses, but a practical, unimaginative man who viewed the world in simple terms was the one you wanted watching your back. And speaking of trust…
“Come,” the king said, letting go of the forge bellows to hold out a golden-gloved hand to his Crown Prince. “I owe you a gift for turning your sword into bronze pellets.”
“I am blessed to receive anything you deign to offer, my king,” Alexander replied with flawless politeness, though even his famous discipline couldn’t completely eliminate the tremble from his voice. “If it’s another princess, though, I don’t think I can—”
“Not a princess,” Gilgamesh assured him. “This is something I’ve never offered to anyone before. I wasn’t planning on ever giving it away, but I think this is the right time, and you are definitely the right person.”
“I am honored,” Alexander said, sounding like he meant it this time. “What is it?”
Gilgamesh smiled wider and crooked his finger, beckoning his most competent prince to a reward that only the man who slew the gods could bestow.
CHAPTER 1
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IT WAS COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE, but all Bex could think about as she and Adrian climbed the steps out of the Hells was the feel of his work-roughened hand where it wrapped around hers. Going up to scout the situation in Heaven had been her idea, but as they left the war demons’ tower and started up the long, enclosed spiral staircase that led to the final door, her feet moved slower and slower. It wasn’t that she was afraid—she was actually more convinced than ever that they could do this—it was just…
“Bex?”
She raised her head to see Adrian looking at her, his mirrored eyes glowing in the dim light like torches. That should’ve freaked her out, but not even Gilgamesh’s prince eyes could make Adrian look like anything other than Adrian, and Bex’s pace grew even slower. She was practically standing still when Adrian finally turned to face her with a huff.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, placing a hand on Boston’s arched back to keep his clearly impatient familiar from blurting out something insulting.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Bex replied, looking up the torchlit spiral stair behind him. “That’s the problem. We still don’t know what Gilgamesh is up to, butIknow we’re going to be neck-deep in trouble again the moment we step outside, and I…”
Her voice trailed off, but Adrian didn’t say a word. He just stood there, watching her patiently as Bex slumped against the sin-stained black stone wall with a sigh.
“I don’t want to jump back into that mess again so soon, you know?” she admitted in a tiny voice. “We just freed all of demonkind from the Hells. This is the biggest victory I’ve ever won. The biggestanyversion of me has won, and it feels like we’re blowing right by it.”
That was the most selfish thing Bex could bring herself to say out loud, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. It’d been so easy to keep rolling when the thrill of beating the Queen of War was still pumping through her veins. Now that it was just her and Adrian on the stairs, though, Bex was discovering that the closer they got to Heaven, the less she wanted to let go of this moment. This rare, beautiful fragment in time when she wasn’t fighting or burning or being stabbed. When no one was looking to her for orders or depending on her to save them.
It felt like something precious, a treasure to be savored, but Bex couldn’t stop to enjoy it. The battle wasn’t over. Everyone was still depending on her. She needed to stop being selfish and keep moving, but when she shoved herself off the wall to keep walking, Adrian reached out and pulled her into a hug.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, squeezing her close with his arms while his clever fingers worked her hair out of the wet, bedraggled ponytail she hadn’t even realized was pulling on her head. “It’s okay, Bex.”
As always, he didn’t say what was okay, and, as always, it didn’t matter. Her subjects needed her to be strong, but Adrian wasn’t a demon. He didn’t need her to hold him up, which meant she was free to break down.
Bex did so with a sob so hard that even she jumped. The ugly sound was both mortifying and terribly timed, but Bex had nothing left to stop it. It’d been a long, hard push even before they’d left for the Hells, and she was so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being responsible, tired of forcing herself to be brave.The moment they stepped into Heaven, she’d have to do it all again, but they weren’t there yet. They were hidden in a dark stairwell where no one could see. Even Boston had hopped off his witch’s shoulder to give them some privacy, which made it dangerously easy for Bex to pretend it was just her and Adrian.
That thin pretense was all her body needed. Her demons were just a few spirals down in the Hell of War, so she couldn’t bawl like she really wanted to, but she was still a mess. Adrian had to be disgusted, but when Bex tried to move away, he pulled her back, pressing her face against his shoulder as she cried and cried and cried.
“Sorry,” she whispered when the storm finally passed. “I’m always doing this to you.”
“I’m glad,” he insisted, petting her loose hair. “It makes me feel special to be the one you cry on.”
“Well, I hate it,” she muttered, scrubbing her puffy face. “What kind of queen cries after she wins?”
“One that’s not a robot,” he replied, bending down to press a kiss against the top of her forehead where her horns used to be. “Winning can be as hard as losing sometimes. Just because you came out on top doesn’t mean the fight wasn’t brutal, or that you didn’t get hurt. You’ve been waging this war for your entire life. That’s a lot of damage to carry, so I think it’s a good sign that you can still cry. It means you’re healthy.”
Bex thought it meant she was a weepy embarrassment, but while her cheeks were burning with shame, she did feel a lot better.
“Okay,” she said, pulling herself straight again. “Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “We don’t have to move just yet.”
“I’ve already wasted enough of our advantage,” Bex insisted, finger-combing her hair back into a fresh ponytail thatshe fixed in place with one of the spare hair ties she’d stashed in the back pocket of her black fatigues. “Gilgamesh is probably scrambling his troops as we speak. If we want to take a look at the battlefield before it gets swamped, we’ve got to go. Besides, if I cry anymore, I’ll dehydrate myself.”
