Chapter Fourteen
Nico glared at the bathroom tile, digging fingernails into his scalp as he shampooed his hair.
He still felt unclean. Unable to shake the mental feeling of Qetesh invading him, trying to smother and control him.
Anger all but causing his entire body to vibrate.
Knowing that if Gigi DeWitt chose to walk more than ten feet away from him, then Qetesh’s presence would descend over him, like a suffocating blanket.
Making it hard to think. And the feelings that would swamp him, they wouldn’t be his.
Dark yearnings. Blinkered desire at the exclusion of all else for her, Qetesh.
A woman he neither liked nor admired. A manipulator. A bully.
And he’d knelt to her, not completely, not all the way. But he’d been teetering. If the kiss had gone on longer, would he have capitulated? Turned into one of her blank eyed golden slaves?
Tipping his head back Nico released a huffing breath. Allowing the water to clear away the shampoo. Bloody Hell, he needed to stop thinking about the what ifs. He was still him, for the moment. What he needed was a distraction in the worse way.
Thankfully there was one available less than five feet away. Gigi. Naked. Soapy. Wet.
The claw-foot bathtub situated behind a low retaining wall off to the shower’s left. Only Gigi’s barefoot visible, poking out of the bubbles, tapping along in time to some silent rhythm.
Gritting his teeth Nico wrenched the cold tap on full blast. Saint Medard, that was icy. Turning off the shower completely he grabbed a towel, rubbing himself down briskly, trying to get the blood flowing again.
He would not look over, absolutely not. Seeing Gigi reclining in bubbles, soaping herself up, that would undo all the good work the icy blast had achieved.
Just outside the bathroom was a walk-in wardrobe. Hurriedly Nico dressed in a waiting pair of dark sweatpants and a thin black sweater. Towelling his hair dry absently he checked his phone. No response yet from Elijah.
Upon arriving at the third floor terraced apartment that belonged to a Great-Aunt and Uncle of Gigi’s - relatives who routinely spent the Australian winters holidaying in Florence taking in the art and culture - they’d immediately called Elijah.
Putting him on speakerphone. First enquiring about Brynn and Chase, who’d thankfully been recovered from the atoll no worse for wear.
Before proceeding to update Elijah regarding Qetesh, Hathor, Sek and Mot, Vaia, the Fate, and the fact that Hathor wanted to get her hands on Nell and Drum’s yet to be born baby daughter.
They’d also related everything they knew about Nico being referred to as fire touched and that the God, Kuat, had been referenced.
Elijah had taken all the information down.
Advising he would request Aunt Patricia conduct some research, but for the moment the two of them should hole up, clean up, rest, and wait until he got back to them with instructions on how they should play this out.
Once the phone call was over Gigi had Canary lick the lock on the manacles around their ankles. Gigi muttering something about pickle cocktails, though he didn’t think he heard that right. All that mattered was three seconds after the bunny nibbled at them the shackles parted, dropping away.
Hanging up the damp towel on a nearby hook Nico ran his fingers through his hair.
There, he felt somewhat human again, though he was assailed by a strong urge to check the back of his hand for any sign of lingering gold glitter.
He was just lifting it to look when the bathroom door opened and a pink cheeked Gigi stepped out, her wet hair pushed back, currently a dark gold in colour, a large blue towel her only covering.
“Oh. Hey. Just give me a minute to get dressed, then we can raid the kitchen. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” She eyed him, a little puzzled. Oh, yes, she’d asked a question and he was just standing there, staring like a gormless perve.
Swinging about, presenting his back to her, Nico managed to unclench his teeth. “Yeah, I could eat.” Wow, suave.
Two minutes later she tapped him on the shoulder.
Gigi had managed to find a long sleeve purple top and black leggings amongst her Great-Aunt’s things.
And on her feet were fluffy cream socks.
She’d run a brush through her short hair, the very ends already drying out and turning a white blonde. Damn, if she didn’t look cute.
“Kitchen is that way.”
Oh, yes. Nico followed her out of the wardrobe, into the adjoining bedroom, do not, for the love of all the Saints, look at the one and only big ass wrought iron bed. The living room light and airy, lots of creams with touches of mustard yellow and blue to keep it from feeling sterile.
Canary sitting by the front door. Looking alert and happy. According to Gigi he was on guard duty. If anyone approached the door he’d smell them and let her know.
The kitchen wasn’t large. Gigi advising her relatives tended to eat out a lot. Still, after some rummaging in the freezer she managed to find two microwaveable pasta meals. Better still, there was a full wine rack.
Red wine. Yes please. Okay, the first glass might have gone down a little quickly.
Sitting at the small dining room table in the kitchen space Nico forced himself to slow down on the alcohol intake, concentrating on shovelling pasta into his mouth instead.
Trying to keep his eyes averted from Gigi, not looking at the way the top she wore clung to those curves, or marvel at the way it made her violet eyes look bottomless and hypnotic.
Not looking. Thinking about why Elijah was taking his sweet time getting back to them.
Not thinking about the fact if they did have to spend the night here there was only that one big ass bed. Hmmm, how far was the sofa from the bed? Could he shift the thing? Would it damage the floors? Absolutely not thinking about how that bed was plenty big enough for two.
“Okay.” Gigi cut into his thoughts. “This brooding silence thing really isn’t working for me.” Pushing her empty plate away and picking up her glass of wine. “I’m going to need you to start sharing.”
“No, I really don’t think you want me to do that.” Nico grabbed the bottle, topping up her glass and then his own.
“Yes. I do. Let me start you off. Finish this sentence: I’m angry because—”
He was sexually frustrated is what he was.
Though wasn’t he just using that as a distraction to not think about…
“Everything. Every Saint damned thing is pissing me off. And the idea that all of this was fated somehow, that makes me want to spit nails. Bastard Gods and their machinations and whims. We’re nothing but fucking pawns on a chessboard.
And to think this is all over a baby. A baby that hasn’t even been born yet.
And what the hell do they need her for anyway?
Do they plan to sacrifice her? We can’t let that happen. ”
Gigi sipped her wine, staying silent.
“And where the fuck do I come into the equation? Trojan horse? Fire touched? What does that even mean? And supposedly these idiots think I’m just going to fetch the baby and happily hand her over?
” Nico paused, taking a big gulp of wine.
“And you know the worst part of it? That skank Qetesh, trying to turn me into one of her mindless golden puppets. Saint Medard, I can’t seem to shake the feeling of her inside of me, like she was trying to wrestle my soul into a dark windowless box.
” Absently Nico wiped his lips. “There isn’t enough mouthwash in the world that’s going to get rid of the taste of her. ”
A wry smile tilted the edges of Gigi’s lips upwards. “You really are having a sucky month, aren’t you?”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
Taking a sip of wine, Gigi shrugged. “We obtained a lot of useful intel today. We don’t understand exactly what a lot of it means yet.
But Elijah and Patricia will get us some answers.
Though we do know who the primary target is, baby Sunny.
Now we know that, we can start to plan, prepare and fortify. ”
“You’re right. I just hate being manipulated. First Kristiah, now Qetesh. She needs to die, that’s the only way I’ll be completely free of her.” Nico tossed back some more wine and laughed. “It’s starting to become a thing, me having to kill the women in my life.”
“As your current faux girlfriend, I’m hoping I get special dispensation.”
“Granted. Though if I turn full on golden from head to toe, you have to promise me you’ll run, and not look back.
I won’t be me. And I’m not sure I could go on living, knowing I’d hurt you.
” Bloody Hell, he rubbed his lips again, he couldn’t get rid of the taste of Qetesh, blindly reaching for the glass of red again, even though it wasn’t helping, except Gigi grabbed his hand instead, squeezing it, holding it in place.
“Nico. Just take a breath. It’s been, hah, I was going to say a rough day, but you’ve been in this game, admittedly unknowingly, for over a decade.
Yes, the deities are manipulative blinkered beings.
But tell me, what’s the point of railing at them?
Getting angry? The only thing we can do is try and determine their game and beat them at it.
Be faster, smarter, meaner than they are. ”
Nico took Gigi’s advice, sucking in a deep breath, clutching her hand, squeezing it gently.
“Qetesh almost had me today. One moment her lips are on mine and the next I’m walking down this glittering tunnel.
There’s a soft golden light at the very end, and her voice is in my head, telling me that everything will be fine, easy, if I just keep walking.
Promising me that all I ever wanted, dreamt of, was waiting for me there. ”
“You didn’t give in. You’re still you.”