My stomach flipped then flipped again in dawning horror as I took in that I was now wearing a flamboyant red, white, and black jesters outfit complete with puff sleeves and pants. The faint strains of a circus tune floated in the air.
Humiliation burned its way through my throat as I couldn’t stop or control my movements. The watching gods tittered with humor and delight.
“You dick pickle, I’m going to slice you from nose to naval,” Miranda snarled from where she was stuck.
Blue hieroglyphs shot out from Timothy with an audible whoosh, right at Seth.
I blinked and suddenly I was across the room, facing down the snapping whips of power headed right at me. Despite their cool coloring, a searing heat bloomed with every millimeter they swallowed between us.
I shut my eyes, bracing for impact, for whatever searing deadly power was about to slice through me.
“You see?” Seth purred again. “I have all the power now.”
I opened my eyes to find the pulsating tendrils of power near shivering with barely restrained energy as they stopped a mere inch in front of my face.
Looking past them, I met Timothy’s gaze. His face was screwed up with anger, pain, and what I could best guess to be regret.
“And I plan to keep it,” Seth snapped his fingers once more, and we disappeared from the room.
16
TIMOTHY
“I’m going to kill him,” Miranda said for the tenth time, pacing rather violently along the concrete flooring of Echo’s large underground warehouse.
Countless screens flickered across the far wall, cycling through anime, surveillance footage, and dossiers only Osiris understood, while Echo typed furiously at the desk beneath them.
It had only been a couple hours since Seth disappeared with Aaron, and the moment it happened I realized how horribly I’d failed.
My brethren still lingered in the room, watching me with cruel amusement or pitying gazes. I’d lost everything in their eyes. My power, my sway, my status.
I was no longer the one they’d answered to. I’d fallen right into Seth’s plan for public humiliation to strip me of my power.
I’d failed to keep the mantle of God of the Dead sacred.
I failed to keep Seth in check.
Worst of all, I failed to keep Aaron safe. He’d blipped out of existence along with Seth to only heaven knew where, but certainly out of my reach.
Rage and despair warred for dominance inside me, until my teeth cracked from clenching my jaw and my heart threatened to burst from my chest.
Everything had gotten out of hand. Which is why I’d resorted to coming to Echo, a fae so grouchy she was practically crusty with it.
Regardless of her dislike of the gods, the heavy-set Samoan woman hobbled on her cane over to her spot where she spent her days hacking to fulfill my request. If she could pull this off, I’d ply her with an endless supply of computer parts and floral muumuus.
Across from the tech-heavy part of the warehouse, a cozy living space was set up in the middle complete with a large area rug over the concrete floors, a floral couch set, and Victorian lamps that cut the cold computer lights with their warm glow.
Jamal and Xander sat with Echo’s husband, Ryuki. With Seth out there, I couldn’t leave them vulnerable. I wouldn’t put it past Seth to target them. Afterall, Miranda did possess the only blade that could hurt him.
While I could do absolutely nothing. I’d proven to be powerless and an utter disappointment. I couldn’t take Aaron from Seth when I had the chance. I couldn’t see what was coming even when my sole attention had been on Aaron, the centerpiece to his plans. And even with the utmost power at my disposal, I had bound my hands up in rules that were meant to empower me.
I swallowed back the bitter feelings, acid burning my throat as I forced them down. Self-pity would only waste precious seconds while Seth had Aaron. I may have failed, but I had a plan.
“I don’t understand, don’t you wield all the souls of the dead? Doesn’t that make you the most powerful of all the gods?” Aiokiasked as she spun around in a desk chair until I was dizzy watching her.
The teenage Asian girl was dressed in her usual school uniform. Sharp-cut black bangs were offset by the playful pigtails that were bound by fluffy purple ties. Despite being hundreds of years old, she did in fact still attend a local high school. Though I couldn’t say if she went because she was bored or simply wanted to be social.
From the way Jamal stole glances at her, I’d say Miranda’s young son was rather smitten. If I wasn’t mistaken, they were in a lot of the same classes at Neon Valley High School.
