Chapter 7 Nyssa #2
“He’s not—” I stop myself, because I don’t actually know what Dreven is. Obsessed seems dramatic, but the arsehole did show up in my garden and make cryptic threats about vacuum power dynamics or whatever. “He’s not anything. He’s a stalker.”
“Semantics. Listen, I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to offer you something Dre won’t.”
“And what’s that? A personality?”
His grin turns wicked. “Oh, burn. Good one, but no. The truth. Without all the doom and gloom wrapped around it.” He leans in, close enough that I can see flecks of red in his golden eyes. “You want to know what’s really coming? What crawled out of that hole before you sealed it?”
My stomach tightens. “You mean apart from him and you?”
His mouth quirks up at the side. “Oh, you don’t know the half of it, slayer.”
“So, inform me, oh wise one.”
He tuts. “You have to earn that. So far, you have been very rude.”
I gawp at him. Rude? He showed up here after crawling out of a hole in the ground, startling the crap out of me, and I’m the one being rude?
“Rude?” I repeat, incredulous. “You want polite? Try not ambushing people on their doorsteps at the arse-crack of dawn.”
He shrugs, utterly unbothered by the accusation. Water drips from his nose. “It’s nearly eight. It’s not the arse-crack of anything. But when you put it like that, it does sound a bit dodgy. I prefer to think of it as enthusiastic networking.”
“Right. Enthusiastic stalking, you mean.”
“There’s that word again. You and Dre really need to expand your vocabulary.
” He tilts his head, studying me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
“Look, I get it. You’ve had a rough night.
You’re tired, you’re sore, and now there are three devastatingly handsome gods on your doorstep making your life complicated.
But here’s the thing, Nyssa—can I call you Nyssa? ”
“No.”
“Excellent. Here’s the thing, Nyssa. That fissure you sealed?
It was open for exactly seven minutes and forty-three seconds.
In that time, a lot more than just Aethel, Dre, Voren and yours truly slipped through.
Some of them are worse than others. And some of them.
..” His expression darkens, the playfulness draining away like water down a sink. “Some of them make—”
“Three?” I interrupt him sharply as my brain catches up. “Who is Voren?”
Dastian’s grin returns, but there’s a sharpness to it now. “Ah, so Dre didn’t mention his favourite antagonistic companion? How typical. Voren, God of Wraiths. Bit of a dick, talks to dead people, has terrible taste in coats. You’ll meet him eventually, I’m sure.”
My grip tightens on the blade. “Three gods. How many more?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He rocks back on his heels, the rain plastering his black shirt to his very muscular chest. “We’re still doing a headcount.
The thing about a divine prison break is that it’s not exactly orderly.
When that seal cracked, it was chaos.” His eyes flash brighter.
“Which, admittedly, is my forte, but even I prefer my chaos with a bit of structure.”
“That’s an oxymoron. Emphasis on the moron.”
He ignores my barb. “I’m a god of contradictions. Part of my charm.” He winks, and I resist the urge to stab him just on principle.
But the fact of the matter is, he hasn’t attacked me, threatened me or anyone else—that I know of—or made any kind of advance towards me. If I killed him, it would be petty and against my moral conduct.
“Look, I’m not here to be your enemy. I’m here because war is coming. The old kind. The kind where gods pick sides and mortals are collateral damage, and you, slayer of demons, whether you like it or not, are right in the bloody middle of it.”
War. Between gods. On mortal soil. In my town. “And which side are you on?”
“The winning one, obviously.”
“Obviously,” I mutter.
We lock gazes, and something strange happens. There is a ripple of power, and the rain seems to avoid him, falling down around him now, but not touching him.
“Neat trick.”
He drops his gaze to my mouth. “I’m a little rusty. God powers in this realm are not the same as back home.”
“Stronger or weaker?”
His stare shoots back up to my eyes. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like you and Dreven have been locked up together for too long.”
“You have no idea,” he murmurs, staring at my mouth again like he wants to devour it in a bruising kiss.
With Rynna’s question about shagging ringing in my head, part of me wonders what it would be like. The other part, the sane part, recoils from the idea. I don’t fraternise with the enemy.
“Earth to slayer,” Dastian says, waving a hand in front of my face. “You went somewhere interesting just then. Care to share?”
“Absolutely not.” I push past him, slamming my front door closed behind me. My cheeks feel hot despite the cold rain suddenly hitting them, and I blame my sister for my momentary lapse in judgement. “If you’re not going to tell me what’s coming, then piss off. I have actual work to do.”
“Work. Right. The Order.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.
“You’re going to march in there and tell them what?
That the Pantheon realm just vomited gods all over Blackfen Edge?
That you stabbed a goddess in the face and used your blood to seal a divine fissure?
How do you think that’s going to go down with the stuffy old Guardians? ”
I freeze. He’s not wrong. The Guardians are traditional, bound by centuries of protocol and hierarchy. They deal in documented threats, catalogued weaknesses, and strategies that have been tested over generations. “They’ll believe me because I’ve never lied to them.”
“Or I could come with you and back up your whacky story.”
“In your fucking dreams. I’m not taking you to the very place where you can sniff around the enemy’s lair to figure out how to kill us all in our sleep.”
“If I wanted to do that, I could’ve already. I am not the threat here.”
“Wanna bet?” I mutter, marching down the garden path, still clutching my blade.
He follows me to my annoyance.
I whirl on him, blade raised again. “Stay away from me. I don’t need or want your help.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but that infuriating grin never wavers.
“Suit yourself. But when things get properly messy—and they will—don’t say I didn’t offer.
” He takes a step back, and the air around him shimmers with heat, like the world is bending around his presence before he disappears, leaving me wet, pissed off and frustrated.
This day is going to get worse from here. I just know it.