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That doesn’t lighten the load on his composure. Nor do I expect it to. “What happened in the sala?”
“It was productive. I mean, if you consider levitating myself and two other certified witches by twelve feet asproductivity.”
His eyebrows jump. “Oh. I thought your floating fairy thing in the grove was a first.”
My cheeks get warm. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain more. At least back then. To be honest, I’m hoping I can get that under control.”
“Wait. You mean your ability to fly? And to invite others to do it too?”
“Levitate,” I correct. “And it may only be a temporary thing.”
He replies with a somber look. “I know you have a lot of respect for them. Butyou need to know one more thing. Hecate ended their little chat by reminding Circe that they were going to war.”
“War?” I rear back, though continue to return his stare. “With whom? About what?”
Oddly, Maximus’s mien is calmer. “If I knew, I’m not sure we’d still be sitting here.”
Agitation pushes in, feverish and frantic, until I’m shoving aside the blankets and bounding to my feet. It’s easy to pull out a long cotton dress from the closet and then tuck my feet into a pair of ballet flats. I don’t bother brushing my hair before twisting it into a hasty ponytail.
“But sitting here isn’t doing us any good either.”
My tone brings another surge of surprise. Why do I sound like a steely spy heroine when I feel more like a frazzled female in peril? Somewhere between the two extremes is where I actually need to be. I work toward that composure goal while quickly washing my face.
“What are you thinking, little demon?”
I don’t miss the undertone in his voice either. That overcompensation of confidence in place of his stress.
“That there’s a truth here we’re not seeing or understanding. And the only way to get it is by asking Hecate herself.”
“All right, then. I’m going with you.”
In silent thanks, I frame his face between my hands and kiss him with meaning. “Along the way, maybe we’ll figure out how to tell her you were…ermmm…”
“Lurking? Or, as the good girls say,eavesdropping?”
I chuckle. “I’m a good girl about as much as you are a serial snoop, Professor Kane.”
He nods again, giving it twice as much conviction. “Which officially validates my concept about how we’re going to handle this thing. The truth, all the way up front. I really was only going for coffee. I couldn’t help it if the two of them decided to use the kitchen as their wicked plotting den at the exact same—”
I smack his chest. “And now it’s time to grab your verbal editing pen, please.”
He presses an earnest kiss on my forehead. “I’ll keep it respectful.”
Now I raise both my hands to the firm valley between his pectorals. “Promise?”
“Cross my heart, hope to—”
“Don’t you dare finish that.”
Because even in this cozy cottage, in this hidden valley, specters lurk too close in my mind. The writhing wraiths below my window in a dismal castle. The vengeful death in the eyes of the king who imprisoned me there.
The god who would’ve let his henchmen kill Maximus and then toss him into that eternal doom.
Will I ever be free of those haunting visions? That cold terror? Or was this Hades’s plan all along, to make me fear every moment and everyonein my life—even the goddess who freed me from his captivity?
No.
I refuse to accept that, the same way I send a silent promise to Maximus that I won’t keep censoring all his dark-humored one-liners. Only for a little while longer. At least until we get to the sala—and determine what turned my commanding demigod into such a spooked, if unintentional, spy.
