What was he up to? Why leave the Menaggio and come to Sinopolis to create a fuss?
The gleaming white of his charming smile matched his immaculate suit, both blinding under the Strip’s neon glow—a predator’s display of perfect teeth behind lips curled in practiced charisma. The black shirt beneath his jacket was open at the throat in a way that broadcasted money, leisure, and zero consequences.
Salt-and-pepper hair slicked back over a deeply tanned face. Martini in hand, he smiled broadly as phones went up around him, reveling in the attention.
Seth already had a following on social media before gods were revealed to the public. Humans had been idolizing us for years without realizing what we were, or that we ruled the hotels along the Vegas Strip.
Miranda’s voice was low but sharp. “You’d think being decapitated and trapped inside Bob for a couple of years would’ve taught him some humility.”
The sword pulsed faintly at her side, a low, metallic thrum. Bob, or the Blade of Bane, was the only weapon that could kill immortals. Or rather, contain them within its steel, imprisoning them. Miranda may be human, but she was worthy to carry it and hear it speak in her mind.
I glanced at it. “What did he say?”
“Bob remembers the taste of him,” she said, her mouth a grim line. “And he doesn’t want seconds.”
I cut through the crowd, Miranda close behind, and Assirak on my heels. We stopped at the velvet rope where guards held everyone back from the platform.
“Quite the turnout,” Seth said as he caught sight of us, voice carrying easily over the crowd. “You’d think the people of Vegas were starved for a little fun.”
The bouncer unhooked the rope and let us through.
“What do you think you are doing?” I asked with open annoyance. “This isn’t something you could have done at your hotel?”
His eyes flicked to the light streaming out of the top of the pyramid and piercing the sky. His smile widened, naked lust and greed in his expression.
My body and powers prickled with warning. Seth, the god of chaos, had always been hungry for power. Angling to take the mantle of God of the Dead so he could be in control of the souls, the balance, and the rest of the gods.
Miranda didn’t bother hiding her scowl. “What are you doing, Seth? Trying to amass people to worship you? You know what happens if you draw too much power.” She shifts Bob so the Vegas lights bounce and glint off his sharp edge.
Seth chuckled darkly, as if remembering his last encounter with the Blade of Bane all too well. Seth sipped at his martini before throwing her an overly congenial smile. “Followers? Don’t be absurd. This is entertainment. A celebration for the mortals, for the world. A reminder that the gods among them can give them wonder.”
“You mean, a reminder that you can,” she said. “If you start to tip the balance, I’ll stop you myself.”
A part of me couldn’t help but think I should threaten Seth to stay in line. It’s what Grim would have done. But that hadnever been my style. I was far more surgical in my approach to things. My power was in details, in precision, in knowing the rules better than anyone and finding the loopholes then closing them. I simply needed to wait and watch to figure out what Seth was up to and then I’d set to motion. And that motion may very well be holding Seth down while Miranda cut off his head.
My mouth tightened at the thought. Unpleasant, but potentially necessary.
Seth opened his arms. “Is this any way to treat someone who thought of you, all lonely at this big hotel, covering somebody else’s job? How long has it been since Grim and Vivian left our plane for the Afterlife at the behest of Osiris?”
“You know damn well it’s been four months,” Miranda said between gritted teeth.
“Four already?” Seth tutted. “You must be exhausted covering for Grim.”
“I’m doing just fine,” I said flatly.
Seth shrugged a shoulder, looking off into the crowd with feigned indifference. “Well, if you should ever need help?—”
“I am more than capable,” I interrupted with more edge in my voice. He’s not interested in helping anyone other than himself.
Specifically, to the power of all the mortal souls the God of the Dead wields. All the gods are in Vegas to be warmed and powered by the hub where souls pass through for judgment. The further a god got from the well of souls and the doorway to the Afterlife, the weaker they felt.
Like a dysfunctional, co-dependent family, all the gods did our best to keep our distance from each other while being practically stacked on top of each other.
Controlling the souls and the doorway to the Afterlife made Grim the most powerful of us on this mortal plane—that is, until he passed the mantle to me.
Along with a massive influx of magic, the position came with a large target painted on my back. I’d never felt it so openly as now.
Seth let out a lofty laugh. “Of course you are. But I still feel compelled to help ease your burden. Oh, do you hear that? The show is about to start. Would you like a cocktail, or perhaps a leash so your pet doesn’t do anything rash?” The last part he practically spat out.
