Page 28 of The Gods Forbid

Persy smiled, even though there was color blooming on her cheeks. “I mean, it’s perfect. Let alone the fact that it’s probably my favorite view here. To have more than one version, and one this good, would be just…” Persy trailed off, moving her hands slowly back and forth to communicate that it was more than she could put into words, but after a moment she found the words she was looking for. “An honor.”

I had multiple paintings hanging in our most revered museums. My work had been praised by countless critics as being a revival of the Apollo style and emotion everyone loved so much. And yet, hearing that it would be an honor to hand it over to her was the greatest compliment I’d ever received. “It’s yours,” I said, before I could fully process the thought. And then, in an attempt to regain some footing, “It’s made with your materials anyway.”

“True,” Persy said, smiling and nodding her head in agreement. “But it's your talent. I’m glad you’re using it.” And then there was that precious moment I’d come to look out for where Persy’s eyes went slightly unfocused and I knew she was about start off on a new path. “Anyway, as I said, you do have a visitor. I waited as long as I could, but you have to come with me now.”

“You could have just disturbed me.” She owed me nothing.

“Oh,” she said it as if the thought had simply never occurred to her. “Well, I did appreciate the bit of time alone. I didn’t sleep well.” I know, I heard, I wanted to say. “So it was nice to be able to have a slower morning.”

Noted.

I looked back over Persy’s shoulder towards the house, looking for whichever god decided to make an appearance. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ate some of the breakfast you left.”

My eyes shot back to Persy’s. “I made it for you.” The same thing I’d said last night. I enjoyed cooking and so it was only natural I took advantage of her beautiful kitchen, especially since I didn’t have anything better to do.

It had nothing to do with the fact that her ardent support of her other chef made me itchy.

“Thank you,” Persy said, the words somewhat less grating than they’d been a few days ago. “It was really good.” Another compliment that registered like a physical attack on my system.

Suddenly, I couldn’t stand a minute longer standing here, staring at her while her hair glowed with soft light from the dim morning sun. I jerked my chin towards the house. “Lead me to my death, love.”

Persy’s eyebrows shot together in immediate concern before she realized that I’d been joking. “Right.” She turned and I followed her, reminding myself that it was not even remotely important for me to figure out where on her back her hair fell to. “I moved your first meeting with the doctor to tomorrow so you have time to work today. After that, it’s you and I for the rest of the day. We’ll—”

I stopped listening. Because a god who was too smart for most people, complete with auburn hair that glowed like the sunset was standing on our back porch, arms crossed.

“Daphne?” I asked, shock clear in my tone. “That’s who volunteered?”

Persy turned to me and nodded, her grin bright like she had no idea why I’d be shocked. She was going to make me explain, wasn’t she? “I intentionally poisoned her. For multiple months.”

“I know,” Persy said, her smile splitting but never falling. “I think you two should be able to get an antidote going in no time, don’t you think?”

I could have an antidote ready in less than a minute, but no one needed to know that right now. “And if I choose not to help her?”

Persy’s nose scrunched up slightly in distaste. “Well, that would be rather disappointing.” I waited for her to add something about the consequences to come if I didn’t help, but she just left it at that. That she’d be disappointed.

I didn’t give a shit what disappointed her or not. So why was I processing that as a perfectly logical reason to help? “I’ll work with her,” I grumbled. Didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

Persy brightened at my agreement. Well, if that was going to be her reaction I would possibly, maybe consider changing my ways to be slightly more agreeable. Only by an inch though.

“I can tell you guys are talking about me!” Daphne called from across the expanse of grass.

“Sorry!” Persy returned, her voice barely rising above her normal tone. It was nothing but a tease when I first said it, but now I was realizing that she really didn’t yell or use a harsh tone with anyone.

Just me, it seemed.

Not something to be proud of, but pride trickled in regardless.

Persy scurried over the stones nestled into the grass with the grace of a gazelle, picking up the fabric of her long skirt just enough for her feet to have the room they needed.

By the time I made it to the back porch, Daphne and Persy were already deep in conversation about something. I hadn’t realized how close Persy had grown to some of the gods. It wasn’t out of the norm. She was only a year or two younger than Daphne.

In the years that I’d grown distant from my friends—her brother included—she’d grown closer.

“Hello,” Daphne greeted, one eyebrow rising sarcastically as I approached.

“Daphne.” I didn’t like how quickly she cut to the core of people. It was why I had kept my distance from her the most.

She looked me up and down slowly, cataloging my stance. “Nice to see you.”