Chapter 35
The platform shuddered to a halt, and I squinted into the light. Lorenzo squeezed my hand once more and then released it.
My legs felt like jelly, and all I wanted to do was collapse and sleep for a few days, but that was out of the question.
A crowd of people was waiting for us, Aeacus and Rhadamanthys among them.
I started to take a step forward and then paused, tensing as Luka stormed toward us. "You stupid bastard." Luka threw his arms around Lorenzo. "You absolute fucking idiot."
Lorenzo smiled and embraced his friend. “Glad to see you too.”
Luka jerked back and grabbed Lorenzo's shoulders, shaking him hard. His eyes were bloodshot and wet. "Don't ever do that again."
"Oh, I don’t plan on it."
A shorter man appeared beside Luka, adjusting his glasses. Luka beamed and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “This is my husband, Vincent.”
“Hello,” said Vincent. “It’s nice to finally have a face to put to the name.”
“I promise it was a much prettier face before my run-in with Constantine’s eagles,” I muttered, touching the eyepatch.
Luka stepped forward and offered his hand. "Rafael."
I took it. His grip was firm and warm. "Luka. Thank you for the seal."
"Thank Lorenzo. He's the one who convinced me it was worth risking everything." Luka's eyes cut to Lorenzo, then back to me. “Thanks for keeping him alive down there.”
I swallowed the tightness in my throat. "He kept me alive. It went both ways."
Vincent moved closer to Luka, taking his hand. "We've been waiting here since this morning. They wouldn't tell us anything except that you'd entered. The hours were..."
"Long," Luka finished.
Lorenzo rolled his shoulders and winced. "I’m surprised you flew all this way. Don’t you have better things to do than worry about me?"
"Of course not," Luka said, waving a hand. "You two are family, you idiot. Where else would we be?"
Family.
My eyes were suddenly burning. I hadn’t had a family since my mother died and Gabriel drowned. Yet Luka and Vincent had adopted me without a second thought.
Aeacus materialized beside us, keys already in hand. She crouched, and the manacle around my ankle clicked open. The metal fell away, and I nearly went down. I'd gotten so used to the weight, the constant pull of Lorenzo three feet away, that freedom felt like falling.
Lorenzo's ankle came free next. He rolled it slowly, then nodded his approval.
"The trial is concluded." Aeacus said matter-of-factly. "Judge Minos is dead. Lorenzo Vasquez and Rafael Oliveira are declared victorious by right of combat. All charges are dismissed. All bounties are void. Minos's seat will remain empty until the Directors convene to discuss succession."
Rhadamanthys cleared his throat. “There is one more important matter we must address, Your Honor.” He removed his Stetson and held it against his chest. "I must tender my resignation, effective immediately."
The garden went silent. Lorenzo's hand tightened in mine hard enough to hurt.
"I violated my oath of neutrality," Rhadamanthys continued. "I helped them when I should have remained impartial. I transported them. Gave them information. Time. I compromised my position and my integrity. Therefore, I am no longer worthy of the title of Judge."
Aeacus studied him for a long moment in silence. "Request denied."
Rhadamanthys blinked rapidly. "Judge Aeacus—"
"Minos betrayed us, Rhadamanthys. And now he is dead. There are only two of us left. I won’t further compromise The Pantheon. Not today."
Rhadamanthys' jaw clenched.
"What you did may have violated the letter of your oath," Aeacus said quietly, "but not its spirit.
You stayed true to the values we're meant to uphold, even when the law itself became corrupt.
In any other situation, I would honor your wishes to step aside.
But we are living in unprecedented times.
We'll revisit this after another Judge is appointed.
Until then, you will continue to serve."
Rhadamanthys bowed his head. “I will serve,” he said and stepped back once before placing the Stetson back on his head.
Aeacus cleared her throat. "There's one more thing that requires immediate attention. The South American directorship is vacant." Her eyes fixed on Lorenzo, and my stomach dropped. "Dionysus is dead. His territory needs leadership. Someone who understands the region, the network, the operations."
"Lorenzo Vasquez, you have earned the right through combat and service. The position is yours if you want it."
Lorenzo stiffened, and his hand trembled in mine. "I…I can't."
"You were raised by Dionysus himself," Aeacus said, with a shrug. "You know the territory better than anyone. You speak the language. You understand the culture."
"That doesn't mean I should run it." Lorenzo let go of my hand. "Directors manage people. Resources. Politics. I'm a Ferryman. I take contracts. I don't... I can't..." He looked to me for help.
He was right. A directorship would destroy him. He’d be miserable. We didn’t fight our way through hell and back just so he could chain himself to a position he’d hate.
I stepped forward. "I'll do it."
Every head turned toward me, and my legs nearly gave out, but I locked my knees and stayed standing.
"Rafael—" Lorenzo reached out to take my hand.
"I'll take the directorship," I said again. "I have administrative experience. I ran Vatican operations across three continents. Managed intelligence networks, coordinated extractions, handled logistics for classified missions."
Aeacus studied me intently. "You were a priest. This is the criminal underworld."
"I was my father’s son long before I was a priest.” I looked at Lorenzo and squeezed his palm. “I was born for this.”
"Rafael, you don't have to—" Lorenzo's voice cracked, and the sound went straight through my chest.
"I want to." I turned to face him and nearly stumbled. My depth perception was still wrong, my left side just gone, but I found him anyway. "You'd hate it, Lorenzo. Every meeting, every decision, every political maneuver. It would destroy you."
"And you just escaped the Church." His hand came up to my face, fingers trembling against my jaw. "You don't need another cage."
"It's not a cage if I'm choosing it." I turned my head and kissed his palm. My lips were cracked and tasted like blood. "You taught me that. Choice is what makes us free."
His throat worked.
"Besides, someone needs to make sure the Ferrymen don't kill each other over territory disputes. Might as well be someone with a few morals left."
Aeacus was quiet. The silence stretched, and my knees shook. I couldn't fall now. Not in front of her. Not when I was trying to prove I could handle this.
Then she nodded. "The South American directorship requires someone who can maintain order while respecting the region's autonomy. Someone who understands both violence and restraint." Her eyes burned into mine. "You'll need to prove yourself. The transition won't be easy."
"I don't need easy,” I said, turning to face her. "I need a purpose."
And I needed Lorenzo to have the freedom to choose his own path.
Even if it meant I'd spend my days managing criminals.
Aeacus extended her hand. "Then welcome to the Pantheon's leadership, Director Oliveira."
My hand felt small and weak in hers. My palm was still torn up from where Constantine's nails had driven through. The scars pulled.
Lorenzo looked gutted. "Rafael..."
"You can still be a Ferryman," I said. "Choose your own contracts. Work when you want. Say no when you don't." I touched his face with trembling fingers. "You're finally free, Lorenzo. Don't let them take that from you."
He blinked back tears. "You're giving up your freedom for mine."
"No." I smiled, and it hurt. Everything hurt. My head was pounding where Caesar had raked my scalp. My legs were jelly. My missing eye throbbed like it was still there. "I'm choosing what I want to do with it. There's a difference."
Luka let out a low whistle. "Well. That's one way to start a relationship."
“Not so different from how we got our start.” Vincent elbowed him, and I heard the impact more than saw it.
Rhadamanthys tipped his hat in my direction. "Congratulations, Director Oliveira. I look forward to working with you."
Director Oliveira.
The title felt wrong, like wearing someone else's skin. But when I looked at Lorenzo and saw the way his shoulders had dropped, the way he could breathe again, the relief flooding his face, I knew I'd made the right choice.
This was what came next. Not running. Not hiding. Not a simple life on some remote island. That would never be us. But this? This felt right in a way that a peaceful, carefree life never would have.
My knees finally gave out, and Lorenzo caught me before I hit stone, his arms locking around my waist. "I've got you."
"There's a car waiting," Rhadamanthys said. "Doctor's on standby at the safe house."
Lorenzo shifted, and suddenly I was being lifted. My head fell against his shoulder, and I breathed in the scent of him.
"I can walk," I mumbled.
“Stop being stubborn,” he replied.
Orange trees passed overhead, sunlight dancing through the leaves. The iron smell of blood was still thick in my nose. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it felt when Adam and Eve were forced out of paradise. They must’ve been exhausted and terrified of what came next, too.
"So." His arms tightened. "You just signed up to run a criminal empire."
"I'm aware."
"You don't even like criminals."
I opened my good eye and found his face. "I like you."
His jaw clenched. "That's different."
"Is it?" Constantine's corpse was still down in that maze. Caesar's broken body beside him. I'd killed them both and felt nothing except relief. "I'm not sure I know the difference anymore."
"Good," he said quietly. "You'll need that."
We reached the car. Luka opened the door, and Lorenzo lowered me into the back seat. He slid in beside me, his arm around my shoulders keeping me upright.
Vincent climbed into the front while Luka took the wheel.
"Safe house in Trastevere," Rhadamanthys called through the window. "God watch over you."
“What about you?” I managed to lift my head to look at Rhadamanthys.
He stood up straight and looked away. “I’m going back to Montana. Hades will need someone to watch his back.”
Because Zeus was still out there. Constantine had promised that Zeus would do worse than hunt us down and kill us. He’d promised a massacre the likes of which we’d never seen.
But that was tomorrow’s problem. Maybe as Director Oliviera, Lorenzo and I stood a chance of weathering the storm we both knew was still coming.
The engine started, and we pulled away from the garden.
Lorenzo's hand came up to cradle my face, careful of the wounds. "I love you,” he said. “I couldn’t say it before, but I’m saying it now. I need you to know, Rafael.”
“I know,” I said, placing my hand over his. “I’ve always known.”
And I had. Lorenzo had been saying I love you with teeth and claws and sharp knives and sarcastic remarks since we’d first met.
He’d said he loved me when he told me the truth no one else was willing to, and when he caught me on the fire escape in Rio, and when he’d come back for me in Alaska, and when he’d stood vigil at my beside in Seattle.
Lorenzo had been saying it far longer than I’d been ready to hear it.
And I had loved him back far longer than I’d admitted aloud.
But choosing to say it out loud to each other, choosing each other again and again and again? That was our past, our present, and our future. That was what real love looked like.