Chapter 17 Silver
SILVER
Islept like shit, tossing and turning until Amavi crawled into my arms, her warmth slowly lulling me to sleep. That was when the dreams started again.
Running through the woods. The scent of magic and grass, rain and prey.
Then I dreamed of men I tortured for existing. Those I turned into deer for the sport of their own hounds. They’d dared look at me. They deserved it.
I woke up in sweat, panting, just as exhausted as I had been before falling asleep.
And to my confusion, I smelled bacon.
I sniffed, frowning.
Bacon and coffee.
My upstairs neighbor, the woman I bought this apartment from, wasn’t any more of a cook than I was. We subsisted mostly on takeout and barbecue in the summer. I couldn’t explain the smell—it seemed too strong to come from another building.
Tired, confused, and famished, I dragged myself up and out of my room, my bed sheet around my chest.
What I saw explained everything and nothing.
The half-naked man was indeed cooking bacon in a skillet that wasn’t mine, and frying eggs too. The coffee machine on the countertop hadn’t been there yesterday.
Come to think of it, I didn’t think I had bacon in my fridge either.
He’d brought all of that with him.
My eyes comprehended the fact that Cas had broken into my place to cook breakfast, but that didn’t tell me why he’d do that.
“Morning, partner.” He turned, handing me one of my cups.
I shrugged. I didn’t need an explanation as much as I needed caffeine.
I took a sip and gasped. “What the fuck is this?”
It was coffee, elevated to the ninth degree. Even Lucian’s fancy beans paled. He’d served it with too much milk and sugar, just like I preferred it, too.
“Mostly coffee, some of my blood.”
I gasped. “Your blood,” I repeated slowly.
“Ichor,” Cas replied as though it was the most natural thing to offer to a person. “Just a few drops. Deadly to mortals, of course. But it’s basically the same stuff as ambrosia or nectar. I don’t have a way to get actual godly food here so I guessed my blood would be the next-best thing.”
“And why are you giving me your blood, exactly?” I questioned.
I still brought the cup to my lips. He was delicious.
“I thought about what you said: you don’t have magic.
That’s strange to me. I figured, you’re likely deeply deficient in ichor, as you’ve not been eating as you would have if you’d been born in an immortal world.
A little ichor will make you stronger. Perhaps slowly awaken your powers, if you let it. ”
That was rather thoughtful of him, if deeply weird.
“Right.” I sipped my blood coffee. “And the food?”
“You don’t like or trust me. I’m bribing you to change that,” he stated baldly.
I couldn’t help laughing. “I still think you’re full of shit.”
“Let’s put it a different way. Do you know everything about everyone around you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Other people around me aren’t lying about not knowing their own bloody names. And you’re a weapon. Not knowing your game’s dangerous.”
“I’m making pancakes,” he countered.
I weighed that. While my point was valid and important, it didn’t have to be argued when I could eat pancakes instead.
Cas made the perfect pancakes, light, fluffy, super thick. I devoured half a dozen, with a side of berries, bacon, and plenty of syrup.
“I definitely didn’t have moonberries,” I asserted.
I didn’t even know what those were until Lucian served some alongside Kleos’s baking one afternoon.
“You didn’t have anything. Your fridge is in a sad state. But I asked around about you, and I came prepared.”
I was curious enough to ask, “What do they say about me?”
“You order takeout every day, two or three times, and spend most of your free time with Kleos, at the gym, or hiking in the woods. You enjoy sculpting and decorating.” He looked around. “I should pay you to do my place.”
I snorted. “No thanks. If I’d known I was rich, I would have paid someone else to do mine.”
“It’s nice. Feels like home.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who the hells are you?”
Cas grinned. “Cas. I thought we established that.”
I changed tactic. “You’re an Olympian.”
He shrugged. “Pot, kettle.”
“Olympians work for Zeus.”
“Do you?” the dick countered.
I was far too exhausted to deal with him this early. And far too amenable after his delicious breakfast spread. Not to mention his blood.
“Listen we’re about to go on a mission together, and we’re supposed to trust each other enough for that. Can you accept the fact that I don’t intend to divulge all my dirty laundry and move on?”
“So, you’ve stopped pretending you don’t remember said laundry, then?” I pushed.
His lips curved up. “I never actually lied to you. I didn’t have a clue who I was when I said I didn’t. Now, I’m not telling you because you’ll jump to conclusions if you knew.”
That was a confession if I ever heard one. “You admit you’re not trustworthy.”
“You’re exhausting.” He sighed deeply. “What I’ll admit is that I’m not here to hurt you or any of your friends.
I’m not here to let Zeus in. I have my own business in town, and it’s quite simply got nothing to do with you.
I swear it upon the river Styx. You and I are bound by the same laws. You know what that means.”
I did. If he swore, this clearly, his words were truthful. Vows upon the Styx were primordially binding.
I ran his exact words through my mind, and decided that while it left a lot of room for potentially problematic reasons, it was good enough for the time being.
Damn him, his bribe absolutely worked, didn’t it?
“Fine.”
“Good. While we’re on the same page, I think we should train together. Really train. I can’t really fight anyone else, and might as well actually show you how to fight.”
I flushed, still thoroughly ashamed of how little effort it took him to beat me on Monday.
I wasn’t eager for a repeat.
“We’re leaving tomorrow, and you skipped work yesterday. I visited two of the names on our list, but we still have three. We should focus on that.”
“Every member of the Guard trains daily. You can waste your hour in fights you’ll win without effort, or start training with me.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t have much of your magic left, anyway.”
He wasn’t impressed by my excuse. “I have plenty to share.”
“I wouldn’t want to get addicted.”
Cas snorted. “You’re not a bloody human, Silver. Whatever blocks it, you’re supposed to have an endless pool of power at your disposal. Taking a drop from me won’t hurt.”
Fuck him for having a response to everything. “I don’t want to,” I finally admitted.
“All right. I guess I’ll toss around the big oaf.”
The big oaf, apparently, was Gideon.
Two hours later, showered and dressed, I watched Gideon and Cas on the mat.
A half dragon, Gideon had always been resilient, strong, fast, and with natural shields against spells written on his skin, but ever since Kleos shared her energy with him, her cousin was something else entirely.
Cas still won easily. I could tell he was bored.
He took it easy on him, moving around a little, evading his attacks.
Gideon used to solely rely on his physical strength, like me, but now each hit was accompanied with fiery light.
Cas blocked, parried, dodged. And occasionally, he riposted, each of his attacks precise, painful, merciless.
I could tell that he had to make an effort to restrain himself.
He would naturally go for the kill. The silver daggers he summoned had blunt edges, but each one hit the mark—heart, gut, throat.
If allowed to penetrate the skin, they could and would have killed the target.
Despite wearing reinforced protected gears, his natural shields and the bluntness of the weapon, I could see big bruises forming on Gideon’s skin as the sparring session continued.
Gideon chuckled, delighted. “Where have you been all my life? Damn, I want to fight you every day.”
I shook my head. He was one big bruise and he wanted more.
I should have spent the time training myself but I wasn’t sure what the point was, so instead, I used the treadmill, running as fast as the machine allowed.
Cas was right: I was wasting my time against my usual partners. Gideon might have been a decent adversary if he fought me as seriously as he fought Cas, but he wouldn’t.
I needed magic in order to fight literal gods—Gideon, Cas, even Kleos.
I’d always felt that lack. The unfairness of the fact that I was the only person in the whole of Highvale without a single drop of magic in my veins. And since learning that I was supposed to be a bloody goddess, that feeling of inadequacy had only grown.
I wasn’t Artemis, the virgin huntress who transformed men with a single glare. I sure as fuck wasn’t a bloody virgin, to start with, and my glares didn’t do anything at all.
I would get better, in order to stand toe to toe to my friends, to him.
I had to.
We managed to stop by the next three names on our list that Wednesday.
Alin Klein offered to let us inspect her bar, which I knew meant we wouldn’t find anything.
I thanked her for her assistance and moved on to the next.
Henry Baker was more promising, as he ran the moment we introduced ourselves.
I caught him in less than three seconds.
That sort of achievement would have made me feel good a week ago, but after Cas mentioned that I was a dragon playing against dormice, he’d taken the fun out of it.
It turned out Henry ran because he was selling nexirs, highly regulated concentrated potions meant to increase one’s magic—regulated because it took the blood of living shifters to make it, which was rarely given voluntarily.
We brought him to the Guard and let runners handle him, before taking a break for lunch.
The third and last criminal turned out to be the most useful. Sandra Wong, owner of a famed teahouse, received us in a gorgeous office with gold wood, offered us tea that Cas accepted, rice cakes that I munched on, and nodded as we questioned her about recently acquired reserves.
“I’ve purchased fifty such things in the last few days.
Top quality. I’ve never seen better wares.
I was assured that the crystals were not obtained through force—which is the only thing the law is against,” she said lightly, pushing her long blue hair off her shoulder.
“I checked through truth spells to be certain. Was I in the right?”
She was smart. And she served good cakes.
“They were obtained through thievery,” I countered. “That’s just as illegal.”
“I was not made aware of such thing. Thievery is an unfortunate part of life. Why, isn’t half of the contents in the archives, or in museums across the world, obtained by thievery?”
I decided I didn’t want to get into a pointless argument with someone like her. She would be far more useful on my side. Besides, I liked the fact that she’d checked the most important thing: that no one had been harmed, killed, or tortured for the crystals.
“Look, if they’re not what we’re looking for, you can keep the goods you paid for. We just need to know if they’re part of a specific set. Seeing one would be enough.”
“I see. And my lot is part of the set?” the shrewd businesswoman probed, one eyebrow raised.
“We’d have to take it—but the Guard will compensate you fairly for the loss.” I didn’t add that we’d observe her in order to figure out her seller. We both knew that would happen.
“What would the Guard consider fair compensation? I do expect to make a bit of money. Top quality, as I said. My seller didn’t know what it was worth. I can sell them for fifty gold apiece.”
Cas and I exchanged a glance.
“What did you buy it for?”
“Fifty gold for the lot,” she replied easily.
Her seller absolutely knew that they were worth far more. If they sold that cheap, it was because they wanted to distribute it fast.
“We’ll pay ten gold apiece,” Cas offered. “Your alternative is the Guard searching the premises and seizing—well, whatever they can in an establishment such as yours.”
Which would be a lot more than fifty crystals.
The woman straightened her spine. “I do not appreciate threats.”
“And here I thought you were the kind of woman who valued directness,” Cas said smoothly, offering her his panty-melting grin.
I didn’t like that at all.
Sandra thought for a moment. “Fifteen.”
“Fifteen it is.”
He summoned a hefty bag of gold, weighing it before putting it on the table.
“One moment, please.”
As she left, I whispered, “There’s no way the Guard will repay you over seven hundred golds.”
He rolled his eyes. “Have you seen my vault?”
There I went again, forgetting the fact that we were both loaded. “Why did you bother haggling, then?”
“It’s fun.”
Sandra came back with the crystals in an iron box. I frowned as she opened it. There was no doubt that it was Kleos’s energy, but it felt different. Wrong, somehow.
“Lovely doing business with you, Miss Wong.”