“They wouldn’t putno onein a cage. What kind of god are you?”
My earlier thoughts echoed. I wanted to be a man around her. Not a god. But I was what I was.
Pushing to my feet, the usual cold bitterness about my situation spread like an infection from my heart.
“I am the kind of god you should kill.” I pressed my chest against the bars.
Miranda didn’t move. As the tension thickened, her gaze remained unyielding, a defiant spark igniting within her eyes. She was dissecting every nuance of my fractured being. This mortal was always thinking, always calculating like some kind of threat machine. But I wondered if she ever justwas. Was there a moment she was relaxed, simply in the moment?
Suddenly I craved to see that. I craved to yank her scheming mind into the present. Make her see me, really see me. No. The god I used to be wasn’t good enough. I wanted tobecomesomething new for her.
“Tell me,” she requested in a quiet voice.
It was the softness in her tone that snapped my barrier like a twig.
“I once was the god of the seas and oceans.” My words came out hoarse, as they were laden with the heaviness of the past. “I ruled the tides. My most favored was the Mediterranean.” My heart squeezed painfully with aching and longing. “I brought balance and bounty to everyone with my oceans.”
“Like Poseidon?”
I couldn’t keep my lip from curling. “Yes, that is a name I’ve been called, though I never sported a white beard and trident. The myth spiraled far away from the man,” I held open my arms. “Originally, my worshippers knew me as Nun.”
Miranda snorted. Her eyes flew wide as she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
I scowled. “It’s not nothing. You are clearly on the verge of some kind of fit.” Her outburst and the way she covered her mouth was highly abrupt.
She shook her head, her palm back over her mouth.
“Miranda.” I drew her name out in a dangerous tone.
With great reluctance, she dropped her hand. “It’s just I’m surprised you didn’t tell me your name was Nun earlier.”
I cocked my head to the side.
“Nunyabusiness,” she added. The grin on her face was as absurd as it was infectious. She burst into laughter. Waving a hand, she tried to get control of herself. “I’m sorry, that’s my son talking through me. Or maybe Vivien. It’s ridiculous. I think it’s a sign I’m crumbling under all the pressure.”
Her laugh. I’d never heard a real laugh from her. It was like being kissed by a thousand butterflies and warmth spread through my lower belly.
I didn’t join her, but I watched her, drinking in this new side of her like it was some kind of rare liquor. And I was intoxicated by it.
We fell into silence as her laughter trailed off.
Composing herself, she got back to business. “So Nun, why are you down here?”
The utterance of my true name acted as a catalyst, unleashing a surge of raw, agonizing power that ripped through my body like a bolt of lightning.
I gripped the steel bars to brace myself. The air vibrated painfully around me, threatening to send me over the edge. If anyone didn’t need a super charge, it was me.
“Please,” I said through bared teeth, “do not use my ancient name. Call me Xander.”
I caught a flicker of surprise in her eyes, a subtle widening and a brief parting of her lips, as if my unleashed magic had taken her off guard.
Me too, sweetheart.
Trying to sound calmer and more reasonable, I explained, “The old names still hold power, and as you know, I have an excess of that. In ancient times, whenever gods became too powerful, we were forced to change our name and move to another locale. It upset the balance. Eventually, Osiris forbid any of us from being worshipped.” I cracked my neck to the side with a loud snap.
