His own words were coming back to bite him. "How long do I have before I'm found out?"
Savitar let out a long, tired breath. "There are three outcomes for your journey, Apostolos. In one you're exposed and you lose everything, even your life, and your mother destroys the entire world in a fit of anger. In the other, you're exposed and the Dark-Hunters turn on you and Apollo's enemies destroy the god, then they wreak untold horrors on mankind as they enslave and abuse them . . ."
Ash hesitated to even ask for more. "And the third?"
"In one word, grisly."
Ash cursed. "So no matter what I do, the world is fucked?"
"I didn't say that. There's always hope, Apostolos. Of all men, you know that. It's only when you stop trying to affect the outcome of your life that you're truly defeated. What will come will come. It's how we deal with the shit in between that shapes us."
Ash snorted at his words. "You don't deal with anything, Savitar. You sit out here in the sun, catching waves, spewing bullshit philosophy you don't follow."
"You're right. I gave up trying to affect my destiny a long time ago. But that's because every time I tried to change the future, I fucked it up worse. Eventually the rat gets tired of pulling the lever and sits down in his corner to lick his wounds. So if you're ready to hang it up and come sit on the beach with me—"
"I'm stuck fighting."
"You're stuck fighting." Savitar lay back down on his board. "But you're welcome to come share my beach any time you get tired of the brawl."
Ash let out a long sigh as he considered it seriously. "Save me a spot. If this blows up in my face, I'll be back with my tail forever tucked between my legs." Because deep inside he knew the truth—he'd been through enough ridicule. He couldn't stand to see the people he loved look at him the way Ryssa had when she'd found him in the stew in Didymos. Even though she'd loved him and had forgiven him, the disappointment in her eyes was still seared into his soul.
He couldn't take that again.
"Wave's coming," Ash warned his mentor.
He didn't move as Savitar popped up on his board with one perfect flip.
The moment the wave struck, Ash returned to New Orleans. Water sports had never been his thing. He preferred freefalling through the air or speeding on the ground.
And he hadn't been a spectator in over eleven thousand years. If he'd learned anything in his godhood, it'd been to fight until they dragged him down.
Even then, he didn't know how to not keep battling.
There was another journal out there. Fine. He was going to find it and make sure no living human or other being ever read it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ash paused as he entered the house to find the three women lined up and . . . singing to . . . dear gods, anything but this.
"Fergilicious."
All he needed was for Simi to be here and off-key with them since it was her favorite song and he'd spent the better part of the last year cursing whoever was dumb enough to introduce that song to a hormonal teenaged demon. Worst part? Simi wanted him to call her Similicious.
Yeah, like that would ever happen. He'd sooner become a Calvin Klein underwear model.
"C'mon, Ash," Kim called. "Join us."
He looked at her with horror filling his soul. "Oh hell no. Not enough beer in the world to make me sing 'I'll put your boy on rock, rock.' "
The women laughed so hard, Kim collapsed on the couch while Pam and Tory roared.
"So did you find anything?" Tory asked after she finally sobered.
"A broken headlight on the car across the street and two street-lights that are out." Ash picked up Tory's cell phone and held it out to her. "I actually need you to call your people and ask them if they found another journal."
Tory gave him a droll stare. "Believe me, if they'd found something as monumental as that they would have told me immediately."
"Even if they'd done it right before they were taken into custody?"
"Then the government would have it."
"Tory, please, just humor me. I've got a bad feeling."
As she reached for the phone in his hand, it started ringing. By the tone and the look on her face, he could tell she knew who it was before she answered.
"Hey Bruce, what's . . ."Her voice trailed off as her face lost color.
Ash put his hand on her shoulder to steady her.
"Oh my God. No . . ."
He exchanged a confused look with Pam until he listened to the other end of the conversation.
"It was awful, Tory. We'd just been released maybe an hour when I got the call that he'd been mugged—just like Nikolas—on his way into his flat and was in surgery."
"What are the doctors saying?"