Ungodly: A Novel (The Goddess War)

“You’ve been doing that all night.” She studied his exposed skin. Her eyes moved over his angular face, down his neck, to his chest, or at least what was visible above his shirt buttons. “Roll up your sleeve.” Something passed across his features. Disappointment? But then it was gone, and he rolled his shirt up to the elbow. Cassandra flexed her fingers. It would feel good for the heat to have somewhere to go. She wondered what would happen to his flesh beneath her hand. He seemed so cold that perhaps he’d crack into layers of frozen meat and skin.

 

Look into his eyes when you do it. Don’t be a coward.

 

Her fingers curled around his wrist. She’d only hold him until he screamed. Waves pulsed out of her and into him; she thought of the feathers blossoming out of Athena like a bracelet. Maybe Thanatos would just decay. Maybe when she drew her hand away most of his wrist would come with it, oozing and stuck to her fingers. She looked into his eyes.

 

And he looked back into hers. Nothing happened. The shock extinguished her like a bucket of water. For a second she squeezed his wrist harder; tried to will it to break. But it held.

 

Thanatos shrugged.

 

“Don’t feel bad,” he said, rolling his sleeve back down. “It was impossible. You can’t kill Death. Though I’ll admit, I was curious. And this begs the question of what you’re going to do with Atropos.…”

 

He turned away, and Cassandra backed up quickly. Her heels skidded until she ran into the sofa and stumbled to a sit. She couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t even make him sweat, while he could kill anything with a kiss. With a thought. And she was alone with him in his house.

 

“Calypso!”

 

“Don’t!” Thanatos held up his hands. “Everything’s fine. I don’t want to hurt you, Cassandra. I never wanted to hurt you. But don’t make Calypso come running. I suspect she’s been skinny-dipping this whole time.” He made a face, reconsidering. “On second thought, do call her.”

 

“Shut up,” Cassandra said. “If you don’t want to hurt me, then what do you want?”

 

“It’s not what I want,” he said softly. “It’s what I’m going to do.” He picked up his brandy and downed it in one gulp. “You’re going after Hades, and I’m going with you.”

 

 

 

 

 

5

 

HELLO DESERT, MY OLD FRIEND

 

Hermes packed for hot and cold. Temps in the desert fluctuated wildly between night and day. There was a big bottle of sunscreen on the table, too, and aloe vera gel for Andie’s inevitable sunburn. They could buy a case of water when they got there.

 

Packing was a lot harder with a mortal tagging along. If it were just him, he’d fill two canteens and throw two Tshirts into a bag before stuffing the rest full with food. But Andie refused to be left behind. And honestly, he was glad for the company.

 

Maybe leathery old Demeter will like her better than she likes me. Maybe we’ll get real answers out of her this time.

 

He snorted. Not likely. But he’d weed through a Da Vinci Code’s worth of her ciphers and riddles if it meant finding out what happened to his sister and Cassandra.

 

Athena. How pissed she would be if she knew he wasn’t hitchhiking cross-country. How she would seethe over their first-class plane tickets to Utah. He smiled.

 

“Hey.” Andie came through the front door without knocking, her backpack over her shoulder.

 

“You made it.”

 

“Of course I made it.”

 

She sounded indignant, but Hermes knew it must’ve taken a presentation with pie charts and begging for her mother to let her go. Henry and Cassandra’s parents weren’t the only ones holding on tighter in the wake of Cassandra’s disappearance.

 

“My mom trusts me to a fault,” Andie said. “I’ve never messed up, and I tell her everything.” She tilted her head. “Or at least everything that wouldn’t blow her mind. Besides, with just the two of us around, she has to trust me. Our lives wouldn’t work otherwise.”

 

“And you don’t feel the least bit guilty lying?”

 

“I don’t have to, as long as you get me home safe.” Her hands moved methodically over their supplies, tucking the sunscreen and aloe into Hermes’ suitcase.

 

“Still no word from Henry?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“He doesn’t think he should come,” she said. “And maybe he’s right. I don’t think his parents would let him come anyway.”

 

Henry came through the door carrying a bag.

 

“What?” he asked as they stared at him in surprise.

 

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