Hermes knocked on the apartment door. A moment later, the supervisor opened it, wearing a threadbare robe and blinking behind thick glasses.
“If this is about the water pressure—”
“It’s not,” Hermes cut in, flashing an amiable smile.
The man stared, taking in Hermes’ expensive suit.
“Ian Johnson,” Hermes said smoothly. “I’m an attorney representing Iliana Amell.”
Her name still gave him pause. Bright Hope.There was something poetic about her name and the dire situation she was in. Something tragic about the connection.
“She okay?” the man asked. His bushy eyebrows drew together. “Her door was open a week ago, and she was just…gone. Her neighbor called it in, and we filed a missing person’s report.”
Hermes made a mental note to wipe the police report later.
“She’s fine. She needed to leave because of a family emergency. I’m here to manage her lease.” He laced his words with magic, soothing suspicion like cool salve over a burn.
The supervisor nodded and stepped away. When he returned, he handed over a slip of paper. “She’s paid through September.”
Hermes pulled an envelope from his inner coat pocket and handed the cashier’s check over. “This should cover another year.”
The man’s eyes widened, but he didn’t argue.
Once the supervisor completed the paperwork, Hermes walked up the stairs to Iliana’s apartment.He turned invisible after confirming he was unwatched, then entered her apartment.
Iliana’s apartment was small but comfortable. Lived in.A half-packed box was set on the coffee table; something she’d never unpacked or was in the middle of packing, maybe. A plush throw blanket was neatly folded on the back of a small couch, and a mug was left on a side table, forgotten. Her bookshelf was crammed with novels andtravel books, bookmarked and worn. Sticky notes were tucked into the pages, her neat handwriting noting observations or asking questions.
Hermes looked closer at the titles. There were novels about fantastical places, distant countries, and biographies of adventurers. She wanted to travel the world, and now she was living in one most mortals never glimpsed.
His smile faded away.Was it an adventure if she couldn’t choose to leave? Was it freedom if she was trapped by the curse?
He’d taken her to Paris, giving her one night of wonder. She’d been so grateful, so alive. She thought she’d never get a chance to see it. But now she had. All because she was a prisoner of divine interest and protection.
Hermes shook his head. He had no business thinking about her that way or wanting to give her the world, to show her every corner and keep that light in her eyes. She deserved better than a god who ran from anything like that. He was a messenger, not a savior.
He pushed away the thought and reached out with his senses, searching for any lingering magical traces. Curses. Charms. Wards. Hexes.
Nothing.
He added his own wards, his divine energy spreading throughout the apartment. They wouldn’t stop a determined god, but they’d alert him if anyone with power set foot inside her home.
Iliana would be coming back eventually. When she did, he’d make damn sure nothing was waiting for her. Something still seemed wrong, but he couldn’t place what it was.
Hermes stayed cautious as he walked around the apartment again. Moving into her bedroom, he paused at the sight of the high-end lock on her bedroom door. It was a reminder of how close they’d already come to losing her.
He looked at the photos. There were images of her parents, and a few shots of Iliana at various ages. In all the pictures, she was alone or with her parents, always with that slightly guarded expression he recognized.
She had no friends, no partners. Just her books and dreams of being anywhere else.
On her nightstand was a well-used leather journal, but no pen in sight.He didn’t open it. Even a nosy god like him had his limits. He could see the worn edges and the way it had been repeatedly opened to certain pages.
What did she write about? Her loneliness? Dreams? Parents?
Hermes shook his head. Something was off about the whole situation. He knew there were no accidents regarding Iliana, her curse, and the growing interest from the godly realm. Someone was watching. Someone who knew more about her than the gods protecting her.
While pondering that thought, a message slid against his ear—caught through his divine sense.
“…Found her…Iliana…she will be vulnerable tonight…”
