Dead Lines

25: Make Yourself At Home

Unedited.

Chapter Twenty-Five

This whole situation was freaky. I’d finished my shower, got dressed, and when I slowly crept down the stairs, hoping Eros had disappeared, I was disappointed when I found him stirring up a pitcher of sweet tea in the kitchen.

“You smell so much better.” He tapped the spoon against the lip, not even looking up at me. “Have a seat.”

“I’m the one supposed to be telling you that.” I sat at the kitchen island, careful to keep him in my line of sight. I wanted to make sure I could see the knife stabbing me in the back if that was indeed what he had planned. Not that I had any idea what was about to happen. At the moment, I was flying blind and I had to trust my gut. Right now it said I was safe but to be vigilant. “You’ve taken “make yourself at home” to the extreme.”

“I understand why you would believe that.” He retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and filled them both halfway with ice before pouring the tea over top. Watching a God do mundane things was bizarre to the extreme and set my nerves even further on edge. “However, I’m only trying to be polite. Lemon?”

“No lemon. Gods are polite?”

That actually got me a smile. “Some of us. We can be downright civil if we wish but it’s rare.”

He placed one of the glasses down in front of me before sitting on one of the barstools across from me. He took a sip of the tea, mulled it over before swallowing, and then nodded. “Just as I remember. There’s nothing in the world like southern sweet tea.”

I made a noncommittal noise and continued to sit there, not daring to try the tea. My father taught me not to take drinks from strangers. Pour my own or not drink at all. Granted that advice was for parties but I was applying it here as well. Who knows what was in the beverage. Trust was earned and so far, Eros was hitting high my caution meter even though he was trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. He didn’t seem too perturbed at me not drinking; in fact he appeared as if he’d expected it.

“Why are you here?” I finally inquired.

“The lightning show in the Between meant something.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“The weapon was claimed by the Lycaon Guard.”

“I noticed that.”

“I believe your instructions were for you to retrieve the weapon. Not your Guard.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“No. It only means our plans have been altered a bit. There are many elements in play here, Oracle. You can’t go messing around with them too much.”

“I wasn’t. Despite what you or Gaia may believe, the weapon wasn’t mine to claim. It was Andrzej’s birthright to wield that particular blade.”

“Which is why you’ll now have to find the other piece.” He took another sip of his drink. “You must be the one to kill Caelus. No one else.”

“I’m not capable of murder. Gaia must realize this.”

“Your fight with the chimera states otherwise. You performed particularly well during that test.”

I ignored that. “Chimeras aren’t people.”

“Caelus is a God. Not a person.”

“The body he inhabits is a person.”

“The person who previously inhabited that particular form was—evicted, you could say, when the ritual was completed. The moment you died, so did they.”