A true motivational speaker. I could feel my confidence level rising. “What about your god?”
Swirling his remaining water in his bottle, he spun the cap on his fingertip. “What about him?”
Oh, yeah. His tone screamed how unhappy he was with our current arrangement. Oh well. He should have thought of that before he violated my sister. “Will he try to interfere?”
“With you rescuing Kierce and offing Dis Pater?”
“Yes.”
“He’s invested in you, not them.”
That wasn’t an answer, and the reminder I had no clue who I was up against frazzled my nerves. “Why is that?”
“I can’t say.” He capped his water and set it between his feet. “It’s forbidden for me to speak of it.”
One of his genuine smiles, his Armie smiles, split his face. It made me want to punch his lights out for savoring my turmoil. He couldn’t help his nature, but he didn’t have to be a smug jerk about it.
To no one’s surprise, he didn’t give me an answer. He was too busy relishing holding the upper hand.
“When Dis Pater is dead, will Kierce remember everything that was taken from him?”
“Not sure.” Ankou flipped the bulky cap across his knuckles. “The blocks might be removed, and it will all come rushing back, or that severance could make the gaps permanent.” He hesitated a beat, his fingers gone still. “As often as his brain has been scrambled, the memories might be gone for good either way.”
“That might be for the best.” I doubted Kierce felt the same. “There are some things I wish I could forget.”
“Once upon a time, I would have said he’d agree with you. But there’s something about you that makes him curious about his past, about himself. He may not rest until he uncovers your connection.”
The certainty I was forgetting something had grown more persistent since arriving in Abaddon, but it did me no good knowing I had forgotten something but not what. Maybe it would come to me before I left.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I admitted, lapsing into silence while tossing pebbles.
Ankou had resumed observing the flames. Josie and Carter had moved away, huddling together in a heated discussion. The wordbuttdrifted to me before I tuned them out. Anunit had yet to return from her latest patrol. That left Harrow and me to entertain each other until we forced ourselves to move on.
“I had an idea.” Harrow stretched his legs out in front of him. “There might not be anything to it, but…”
“Right now, without even hearing your plan, it has a one hundred percent higher success rate than the one we have now.” I was only half joking, since we were now winging the rescue thanks to Ankou accelerating our timeline. “What’s on your mind?”
“Can you be possessed?”
“No.” I jolted at the unexpected question. “Even before I died, I was impervious to spirits in that sense.”
With a nod, Harrow pressed on. “Does that mean Kierce is too?”
An inkling began to form of the direction of his thoughts, and I dared let hope knock against my ribs. “That is an excellent question.”
The idea of a spirit, say, one of the Suarezes, someone I trusted implicitly, piloting Kierce would solve more than a few problems. But none of the brothers were strong enough to control the Viduus unless he allowed it. Or if he was too weak to fight back. Both options were risky, but I liked how Harrow was thinking. He might have just solved our biggest problem. Part of it anyway.
Asking Ankou to join us when Harrow wanted nothing more than to put two bullets between his eyes for forcing him to kill his uncle was like smashing two rocks together and not expecting a spark. But Harrow had lit a fire under me, and Ankou was the only one who could quench that burn for answers.
“Ankou.” I curled my finger when he glanced over his shoulder at me. “Come here for a minute.”
A frown pinching his brow, he did as I requested, looming over us until I invited him to sit.
Pretty sure Harrow growled under his breath, but as long as he wasn’t actively trying to murder him, I was okay with it. “Can you be possessed by a spirit?”
“Me?” Ankou blinked once and took a healthy step back. “In particular?”
“Kierce.” I smirked at his paranoia. “In particular.”
