“That’s what I tried to do with Aaron,” I mumbled.
“That’s different.”
“How?” I demanded.
“You love him,” she said. “And he loves you. You didn’t tell him to bite you so you could take a slave, so you could serve your own ego. You want him because he makes you a better man, a better god. And I know he feels the same and would trust his life and his will to you. Stop apologizing for it and bending to the rules and semantics that don’t apply here.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’ve been holding yourself back. You are in charge of your life, of this world, but you keep giving your power away to the rules, to Seth. You need to stop. Trust yourself, Timothy. The rest of us already do.”
Before I could even gather my wits to process, Jamal shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.
“Morning, Mom,” he greeted, his voice still rough with sleep.
“Morning, baby,” Miranda said, accepting a kiss from her son. He was so tall that he had to bend over to reach her cheek.
“Oh, hey, Timothy,” he greeted with a sleepy smile before crossing the kitchen to grab a cereal box and a bowl. His pajama pants rose several inches above his ankles, showing he likely went through yet another growth spurt recently.
Despite seeing him regularly, I was always surprised by how fast he grew up. At fifteen, Jamal had more character to him than most men I encountered. Not to mention a kind of precocious intelligence.
“Whoa,” Xander said, his eyes widening when he entered the kitchen next, catching sight of me. He wore a pair of boxers and a wrinkled Hawaiian shirt left open. His hair was a wild mess that stuck up in all directions.
My brow furrowed. “What?”
“You look like shit.”
“Language,” both Miranda and Jamal chided in chorus.
“Thank you, Xander,” I said flatly.
Xander’s mouth curved in a smile as he opened the sliding door to the yard. Assirak and their dog bounded in, smelling of morning dew and fresh-cut grass. Both went directly to Jamal, where he avidly petted them.
Miranda snorted.
“Don’t be jealous,” Xander said as he poured a cup of coffee.
“Yeah, Mom,” Jamal said, “I may be able to see the reapers, but you have Bob.”
Assirak’s eyes closed as he leaned harder into the head scratching Jamal gave him.
At a young age, Jamal had died for a short while. When Grim pulled him back from the Afterlife, he was able to see reapers, and I suspected he’d been graced with a few other extra senses.
Miranda huffed this time. Xander leaned down to kiss her cheek too. “Who’s my fussy morning grump?”
She playfully thwacked him on the chest while my thoughts turned to what Miranda had said, properly chewing on her words.
Did I trust the rules and protocols more than myself?
“So,” Xander said as he leaned against the counter, casually sipping his coffee. “Are we going to kick Seth’s ass yet, or what?”
14
TIMOTHY
Fremont Street hit me like a physical force. Neon glared overhead in streaks of blue and red while bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the crowd electric with anticipation. Flames burst from the parkour rig in the center of the street, throwing heat across the pavement and turning the course into a living hazard. The perfect arena for a reckless god to flaunt his power.
And I had come here to stop him.
