Page 129 of Dead Vengeance

“Orchestrated?” I repeat breathlessly. All of this? How? How is this possible?

I slip away from him, the room swimming as I pace beneath the chandelier that crushed Raul three days ago. Which feels like a lifetime ago. Like I’ve known Archer forever already. “No, there’s no way. How could he have done this?”

“He’s a literal god, Liam,” Archer says, as if I needed the reminder. “He built the world, according to the Aztecs. He can make or break us. He can fuck with whatever he likes.”

“Then why doesn’t he just waltz in there and grab his mirror himself? Why is he doing this? Why would he go to all that trouble, to what? Give us this nice romance? He’s a matchmaker god now?”

Archer shrugs. “That’s exactly what I’m wondering.”

“But he’s a god of-of-of night. Of darkness. That people made sacrifices to. That sounds really fucking scary.”

“Yeah,” Archer agrees. “But he’s also the god of justice. Who used that mirror to look into the souls of people and see whether they were really good inside. So he could decide their fates. And if what you say about your brother is true…”

“It’s true,” I practically shout at him. “You saw it. You saw it upstairs for yourself!”

“I did. And I never doubted what you said. Because if he’s even half as lovely as you…” I’m caught on his soft words and soft eyes. Caught in this brief and strangely beautiful moment.

How did I meet this man? How could he be for me?

Fate.

Maybe that’s the only thing that makes sense.

I drop back to the sofa by his side. “Do you think we’re under some spell? Is that why you feel this way?”

“No. No, not at all.”

“What if it snaps? And you wake up one morning after he gets his mirror back, and you think, what the fuck am I doing in bed with this guy?”

He laughs. A full belly laugh. Then leans in close, pushing a lock of hair back from my temple. “You’ve always been my type. Ever since I had one.”

“Oh yeah? Ill-prepared and poorly employed?”

“Sweet. All the way through. To the very core. Sweet and kind and determined. And I think, whether Tezcatlipoca had a hand in this or not, once we fix this problem, we’re going to be very happy together. All right?”

“Archer…” My fingers sweep across his cheek, savouring the feeling. He must be right. He must be. Because I cannot imagine not feeling like this. Because it’s deeper than just a love spell. Surely it is.

This feels like, for the first time in my whole life, like I’ve met someone who gets it. Gets what it’s like to be a carer. Gets that I have demands on me that other people don’t have. That I can’t give him my whole self. And he’s fine with that. All he wants from me is… brunch.

I lunge forward and kiss him. I love that he catches it, kisses me back. No hesitation now. It’s becoming beautiful and natural. Something we’re falling into so easily.

But then he takes my hands, and his expression changes to a very serious one. “I’m making plans with you, and we’re going to do every single thing you want to do about this situation. I’m going to help you every step of the way. I’ll be here from beginning to end, no matter what happens. I like you, I want to be with you. And I’m your friend, above all. Nothing will change that.”

My heart swells so large I think it might actually burst.

Then he says, “But…”

“But?” I shout.

“But…” He takes a deep breath. “Before we proceed, I need to double-check his story.”

“His story?” I repeat, half aghast. “Tezcatlipoca’s story?”

He nods slowly.

“I’ve just called the police and they’re not bloody answering!” I argue. “Why do you think that is? Maybe because they’re trying to hide the truth Tezcatlipoca just showed us?”

“I don’t know.” He replies so patiently it sets my teeth on edge.