Then she looked at Thanatos; what she found there was just as wrong. His eyes were cold. There was no warmth in them like there had been whenever she walked into a room. They didn’t show the humor, comfort, or desire she adored. Nothing.
“Where’s Anubis?” The question came out calm as she attempted to hide her nervousness.
“Come here,” Thanatos ordered sharply, waving her over.
She didn’t move. This was all wrong. They were all wrong.
Iliana shook her head. Behind her, she heard footsteps, and shespun.
Anubis.
But he wasn’t her Ani. It wasn’t even a good copy. His golden eyes were lifeless, devoid of the protective fire that burned while teaching her. This Anubis looked at her as if she didn’t matter to him at all.
She backed away from them as they prowled toward her, fighting the impulse to run away. This was a trick. Her gods weren’t here. But could they still harm her?
An amused voice called out to her. “I wouldn’t take any more steps in that direction if you value your memories.”
Iliana turned, halting a few feet away from the river.
The Lethe.
Her attention snapped back to the danger.
A woman was standing where the false gods had been. She was stunning. Tall and elegant, with flawless pale skin. Her flowing blue dress draped over the cave floor. Her hair was dark brown, twisted into an intricate crown with poppies pinned to it. Her icy blue eyes were hard and calculating in contrast to her almost tranquil smile.
“Who are you?” Iliana demanded despite the uneasiness twisting inside her.
The woman laughed, the sound musical and unnatural. “I am surprised you noticed. I have not seen them in centuries, but I cannot imagine they have changed that much.”
The woman’s eyes slid over Iliana’s body, and she fought the urge to pat down her hair and fidget with her clothes. Like hell she’d show how self-conscious the woman made her feel.
“Answer me. Who are you? What do you want?” As Iliana spoke, she slowly moved her hand closer to the weapon, masking the movement by placing both hands on her hips. She needed to make it look as though she were being stubborn, not as though she were preparing for a fight.
“I am Pasithea. Hypnos’ wife.” The title rolled off her tongue.
Iliana felt as though she’d been slapped.
Wife.
Hypnos had never mentioned his wife. Yet, here she was. Gorgeous. A goddess. And very creepy. Not in the horror-movie sense, but in the way she looked as though she already knew how this interaction would end.
“And what I want,” Pasithea continued, grinning viciously, “is your death.”
Death.
Iliana tried to stand firm and ignore the knowledge that this beautiful goddess wanted her dead. She really did, but the dread made her legs shake. Worse than they had when she’d first woken in Hypnos’ home.
“Do you have any idea what you have cost me? I had him under control, locked away from the world. I was going to—” Pasithea cut herself off, barely hiding her rage. “Years of building influence, positioning myself exactly where they needed me to be. And you, some pathetic human who’s going to die in months anyway—you destroyed it all.”
They.
She’d said ‘they’. How many gods were out there trying to kill her?
“I tried to make him see reason,” Pasithea said almost to herself. “Tried to show him you were using him just like I—” She stopped again, more abruptly this time. “But he is blinded by your mortality; by the tragedy of it. He always had a weakness for lost causes.”
The poppies woven in her hair seemed to wilt as she spoke, the petals browning around the edges.
“And now?” Her eyes went distant. “Some of us have been waiting centuries for our chance to matter again. The minor gods, the ones the world forgot,” Pasithea said fervently. “We were promised, shown what happens when the balance is restored. When those who have been overlooked finally get what they are owed.”
