The Phoenician realm was not the flashy juxtaposition of decay and modernity, the stylish, state-of-the-art buildings against gothic, lovely stonework, that Hell was. The Phoenician realm had been caught, stuck with only a trickle of resources, frozen where it had left off so many years ago.
Bellfield with its fertility clinic and topside empire had existed because Astarte had been innovative. She’d used drugs in her own way. She’d found a new mode of relevance, a way to be elite, and coveted, and sought after. She’d flourished in a world that had forgotten them. She’d innovated and evolved, she’d adhered to the godly rules and regulations, she’d done everything by the book, and I’d killed her for it.
“Worship,” I said finally.
I would have guessed that Botox and blow were responsible for the way Alessia’s face remained free of crinkles when she relaxed into her grin, but I knew better. A part of my brain fractured off, wandering into an off-handed comment Fauna had made long ago about fae and celebrities. Alessia’s secret was better than a paralytic injection to the face.
She was immortal.
“Precisely,” she agreed. “Do you know my biggest annoyance?”
Is it rhetorical questions? Marching dust with strangers?I asked in the safety of my mind, flinching when her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as if I’d spoken to the room.
“It’s that we’ve sat around for three thousand years waiting for men to stop being villains. We push gender-based violence as a men’s issue—and it is, don’t get me wrong. Men are trash. Until now, my greatest aid to the vulnerable has been what I offered you: the gift of invisibility. I will hide those in need from their enemies. But today…”
I was glad my glass had been empty, or I may have choked into it. I’d said the same thing for years, but it was different entirely when coming from the lips of someone eternal. She spoke with the elated chatter of someone who’d truly railed a line of Snow White, rather than whatever it was she’d given me.
“But we could end it all tomorrow if every woman believed in her worth, possessed a weapon, and was trained in how to use it. Give me six weeks and I’d end violence against the marginalized.”
“With drugs and violence?”
She slammed flattened palms into the desk, getting to her feet as she leaned forward. The room seemed to shrink as she grew in presence and strength. “With accountability! Gods, men, the strong, the powerful—they do what they do because no one pushes back. Either because they lack the strength or the resources or, worse, because they don’t believe they’reworthyof pushing back. Merit, if you had eight billion people understand their worth, their own sovereignty, their poweroverthe gods, the war would be finished before it started.”
“That’s…” I couldn’t continue looking into her stunning, powerful face. Her hazel eyes were too intense. Her posture was snake-like, ready to strike. I turned in my seat, hoping the Duchess might have something helpful to say. Her half-smile told me that no, she would not be participating. The only one in the room who responded to my cry of distress was the PA. She snatched the pitcher of cucumber lime water andrefilled my glass. I supposed it was as good as it was going to get.
“Less than ten percent of the population identifies as atheist,” she said. “But of the believers, most are on uncertain footing. They could be swayed. The truly devout, the unshakeable, they’re few and far between. If we aim for the middle, we have a chance.”
“You want me to get people to rally against their gods? That would first require me to get people tobelievein their gods. Even believers—”
“I know,” she said, cutting me off. “Half of the people in their Sunday pews offer little more than lip service. There are cultural believers, familial believers, and habitual believers. Convince them of their gods, yes, but convince them of theothergods as well. Imagine the fear in the eyes of Christians if they believed Odin was a threat. See how Hindu temples would turn to fury if they identified Zeus’s combative presence.”
I drained my water again in several gulps, shuddering at how the ice hit my teeth. The PA tried to refill my glass once more. I began to suspect she was my only true ally in the room.
“It’s impossible,” I said. “Religions have been bickering since the dawn of time. The best they can do is ignore each other.”
She let out a bright, delighted laugh. “Indeed, they have. Use the cover of secrecy I’ve given you and take the next step.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
She relaxed back in her chair, grinning from ear to ear. “You, Merit Finnegan, are in need of a siren.”
