Timothy stepped away, his jaw set.
“What did you do?” I asked quietly.
“I sealed him inside himself,” Timothy said. “A mental labyrinth with no doors he can reach. He can think, but he cannot form intention. He cannot plan. He’ll never be able to command worship or wield the souls of mortals again.”
Seth blinked up at us. He looked even older now. His mouth opened as if to speak, but the words halted halfway, looping back on themselves. “You…you can’t…I…I should…we…the…ah…yes…no…yes…” His brow furrowed, a man listening to a conversation no one else could hear.
Nothing coherent followed.
Xander let out a low whistle. “He’s like a little helpless baby.”
Miranda planted her hands on her hips. “I almost feel bad for him.”
We all turned to stare at her.
“What? I saidalmost.”
Seth pushed himself up on one elbow, blinking in confusion at the street.
Assirak trotted up to us. Seth startled so hard he fell backward, then stared at the asphalt as if waiting for instructions no one was giving.
Timothy watched him for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. The light around him dimmed to a soft blue whisper.
“He’ll live,” Timothy said. “But once the others see how I handled him, I don’t think they’ll be keen to test me.”
“Can I just say,” Xander held up a finger. “Grim was always a scary motherfucker, but this?” He waved a hand at Seth. “This is scary in a totally new Timothy-patented way.”
“Thank you,” Timothy said. “I do pride myself on my sense of style.”
I couldn’t help but grin at that. I wrapped a hand around his waist, near bursting with pride, relief, and not a little bit of a blood buzz.
“What happens to him now?” I asked.
“He needs supervision,” Timothy said, leaning into me. “A protected environment. Somewhere secure, contained, and maybe padded. I think we can set him back up at the Menaggio where he can enjoy his life…well enough.” Then he turned to me. “More importantly, we can start enjoying our life.” His hands framed my face, thumbs caressing my jaw and my entire body tingled with excitement and ached with need for more.
“Oh, I’ll make sure of it,” I said before our lips met again in a hungry kiss. I paused it only long enough to say, “For all time.”
EPILOGUE
TIMOTHY
The leather of the chair creaked under my grip as I tried, truly tried, to maintain some semblance of composure.
The Wolf Town Club stretched beneath the balcony in a wash of colored lights, heat, and bodies. Music pulsed through the floor and into my ribs, steady and relentless, matching the rising tension in my body far too accurately.
I kept my gaze trained outward. Down at the dancers. The bar. The gods lingering on the periphery, watching me the way lesser predators watch a lion at a watering hole. They were deferential. In the weeks since defeating Seth, they had all been filtering into Sinopolis to show their deference. Even if they resentfully did so, I knew they were too scared to cross me now. It benefited them to stay in my favor. To keep the peace.
I should have been assessing them in return. Cataloging alliances. Noting posture and expression. Applying logic to politics.
Instead, all my focus was trained on one thing.
Aaron down below in the VIP box where they couldn’t see, his hands braced on my thighs for balance, bucked with every slow pass of his tongue.
I did everything in my power not to move. My fingers curled around the armrests. Sweat gathered at my lower back. Glowing glyphs tickled the ends of my fingertips as the base of my spine tightened.
“Timothy,” Aaron murmured, amusement coloring the word, “don’t fight it.”
Aaron sucked me down his throat so far, I let out a shout. The bass-heavy music vibrated through the floor, mercifully drowning out my cry as his tongue worked the sensitive underside.
