Epilogue
Lagamal
“Consider it done,” I’d told Ruadan, and I hadn’t wasted a second following the directions he’d texted me to this little pocket dimension nestled between the layers of reality.
We only had one shot at this, at ridding ourselves of this plague.
The last thing we needed was for Apate’s soul to find her way back to her body, resurrecting herself, only to be set on revenge against us for our little betrayal.
Nope. There would be no coming back from this once I was finished with her.
Down the rock steps, deep into the cavern, I stood over Apate’s slumped body where she’d left it, nothing more than an empty shell without her soul. She was barely more than a pile of black lace and tulle.
There was a lesson to be learned here, if I chose to listen. Nobody was infallible, not even the gods.
“Let’s see you cause chaos without a body, bitch.
” Immortal or not, her body burned easily enough, using a little good old-fashioned Greek fire.
I should’ve brought marshmallows, I thought, sitting back on her throne while I waited.
And once the corpse had burned down to nothing more than a pile of ash, I sucked it all up with a little handheld vacuum, chuckling at how neat and tidy the whole thing had been.
I tucked her remains into a Ziploc bag then brushed my hands clean of the whole thing, both literally and metaphorically.
As soon as I shut the alleyway door behind me, I felt the magic anchoring the pocket dimension release with a sigh.
Sure enough, when I opened the door again, I went straight through to the back of the restaurant, the fragrant aroma making my stomach growl.
I nodded to the man at the grill wearing kitchen whites unbuttoned at the top in an attempt to stay cool in the steamy space. “Pickup for Mal?” I said. I’d placed the order as soon as I saw where I was heading. This place had the best Thai food in the city.
The fact that I had essentially committed murder and hadn’t lost my appetite should have been a red flag, but this wasn’t even close to the worst thing I’d done.
I was a guardian of the underworld. I was responsible for condemning souls to eternal damnation; that felt infinitely more cruel than disposing of a little trash.
Wherever Apate’s soul now existed, it was a kinder fate than she deserved.
7 months later
“Open my present next!” Cameron said, shoving an oversized package across the floor toward Ulysses where he sat holding baby Aurora, the guest of honor. The present wasn’t even properly wrapped, just draped with a fuzzy blue baby blanket covered with a pattern of bubbles and rubber ducks.
The group of us had taken over the multipurpose room at the Valleywood Community Altar, the former-supernatural support group taking a break from their usual meeting to welcome the new baby.
I wasn’t entirely sure why they’d felt the need to invite me, but once my coworker, Ishmekarab, had caught sight of the invitation, there was no getting out of it.
“I’ll come with you!” he’d said, then went on to gush about how much he loved babies. Personally, I didn’t get the appeal, yet somehow, I found myself here anyway, skulking in the corner of the room. At least the food’s good, I thought, popping a spinach puff into my mouth.
“Wow, that’s a lot of diapers,” Ulysses said, eyes wide as he took in the giant stack of boxes. “Surely that’ll be enough to last until she’s potty trained.”
Cameron laughed long and hard, wiping away a few tears of mirth. “Try until next Tuesday, if she’s anything like my son.”
The former Chosen One was an interesting character.
I couldn’t quite get a handle on him—or more specifically, how he’d ended up mated to Deimos.
They were an unlikely pair, one upbeat and optimistic, the other a god of fear.
While Cameron was dressed smartly in tan slacks and a light blue polo, Deimos was dressed much like I was, in an expensive black custom-made suit, amused glower in place.
The overall look was ruined by the baby carrier strapped to his chest, though, their new daughter, Olive, asleep against her alpha father.
Opposites attract, I supposed, my eyes sliding across to where Ishmekarab stood, his grin blinding white against his flawless tan skin. “Ishmekarab is such a mouthful,” he liked to tell people. “Call me Rabbie.” I hated calling him Rabbie.
He caught me looking his way, and before I could pretend to be busy, he turned and headed over.
Gods, the way this man moved, his long, lean limbs prowling like every room was a catwalk, his silky black hair hanging loose down his back.
It was enough to give me a headache. He came to stop beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat off his body, the soft scent of sandalwood wafting over me.
“Having fun?” he asked, his voice a velvety purr that set my teeth on edge.
It always sounded like he was whispering something vulgar.
“You know I’m not,” I said, my own voice all sharp edges that sliced. “Why did you make me come? I hate babies.”
It only made Rabbie chuckle. “What do you have against babies? They’re adorable, all wrinkly and with those little toes. And they smell so good. I could just eat them up!”
“They do not smell good. They always stink like dirty diapers, and they can’t even talk yet. How am I supposed to have a conversation with one of them?”
His luscious lips widened further until his whole face was alight with his smile.
“Spoken like a true lawyer,” he teased, as if he wasn’t a lawyer himself.
He was a public defendant, though, so maybe it didn’t count.
Rabbie was my counterpart in every way—in the courtroom and in the underworld, always working to balance the scales.
While Ulysses continued to open presents, Ruadan sauntered over carrying Aurora, held at his shoulder, his hand almost large enough to cover her entire back. How a man that size could create such a dainty little thing, I would never understand.
“Hey, I have to go run to the store. Reek is having a meltdown because he forgot the ice cream. Can you watch Rory for a few minutes? Uly needs a break.”
I sputtered, trying to come up with an excuse to say no, but Rabbie beat me to it.
“He would love to,” he said with one of his signature grins, then took Aurora from Ruadan and pressed her into my arms. “Don’t worry, I’ll supervise.
” They shared an amused look before Ruadan left, abandoning his daughter with the worst possible choice of babysitter.
Gritting my teeth, I stood stock still, limbs locked up. She immediately started to fuss, and I broke out in a sweat. “What do I do?” I asked Rabbie in a panic.
“You relax, for starters,” he said with far too much calm for the dire situation. “Here, hold her like this. Yeah, that’s better. And then you rock.”
“I… rock?” I echoed.
“Yeah. Like this,” he said, reaching around the baby in my arms to set his hands on my hips, guiding me into a gentle back-and-forth motion.
“It mimics the motion they felt inside the womb. See? She’s much happier now.
” He was smiling down at the baby, so I wasn’t at all prepared when he angled his face up toward mine, entirely too close, and I suddenly became aware of his hands still gripping my hips, the heat searing me straight through my suit.
Fuck.
His smile slipped a little, and he cleared his throat, stepping back and leaving me suddenly freezing in the lack of his warmth.
“You’re a natural,” he said, averting his eyes back to the front of the room where Ulysses was holding up the hundredth onesie he’d been given, this one frilly and pink. Not at all practical for a newborn.
“Lying doesn’t become you,” I grumbled, earning me another musical laugh.
“Fine, maybe not a natural, per se, but you’re learning. It’s a skill worth honing. You never know when you might end up with a baby of your own.”
I made a face down at the squirming bundle in my arms, and an unnamable emotion rushing through me. Me? A father? Huh. I wondered if maybe having a family of my own one day wouldn’t be so bad after all.
We watched the present opening for a few minutes in comfortable silence, both of us rocking, even though Rabbie wasn’t even holding a baby. Finally, he leaned closer. “What’d you get them?” he asked me.
“A lifetime of peace and quiet,” I snarked back, before softening, completely against my will—because apparently babies were my weakness. Who knew. “But also, a nightlight that displays stars up on the ceiling.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet,” he gushed, reaching out to touch my shoulder, completely unaware of how it made me come undone.
Hmm, I pondered, my eyes lingering on his profile. With the right person, a family might be quite nice.
Above us, the lights gave a brief pulse, flickering a few times. Nobody paid any mind, but it was the accompanying chill that drew my attention. I was well-versed in souls, not to mention this particular pain in my ass. Apate’s spirit felt like an ice cube dripping down my spine.
I smirked at her lingering rage, impotent in her ability to do anything about it. No, Valleywood was mine to protect—humans and gods alike—and there was no room for a monster like her.