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I grunted. And he was their director of PR, no less. Still, I did shut Royce’s telepathy out. If I’d left the lines open, he could have given me the details himself. So fine. A misunderstanding, in all.

“Why are you doing all this? I’m grateful, but I don’t understand. Why are you helping?”

“I don’t think like the other Scions. As you may have noticed, neither does Royce. We believe that you may yet be the key to defeating the Eldest. Your death would not bring about peace. That would end nothing. Well. Except your existence, naturally.”

The chill of the beer in my hand was fading, the condensation dripping down its sides, sopping wet. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Give it time,” she said. Something twitched in the corner of her mouth, perhaps her attempt at a smile. “Your life isn’t over, Dustin. Not just yet.”

She waved her hand, and the air shimmered again as her force field lifted. The sounds of conversation returned again, mainly with Bastion clearing his throat noisily, obviously halfway through talking about me and Odessa.

“Everyone,” Odessa said, addressing the room. “I trust you will do all in your power to protect Dustin, not only as a favor to me, but to your friend as well. See that he does not leave the premises, and that none but yourselves are aware of his presence here.”

There was a murmur of assent. Herald nodded once, firmly, in silence.

“Then if there is nothing else,” Odessa continued, “I will be on my way.”

“Wait,” I said. “Won’t you stay for some food? Join us for dinner.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said. “But I haven’t eaten since the Black Plague.”

I laughed nervously, but Romira gave me a look. Oh? Oh. Odessa wasn’t kidding.

Odessa left, and the rest of us finished off the Thai food in relative, uncomfortable silence. Maybe a smattering of conversation here and there, like gossip about the Lorica that was safe to discuss in front of me, a little talk of office politics. But Odessa’s warning hung thick in the air, lingering long after she?

?d gone.

I loved Thai food so much, too. It was what Herald and I usually ordered whenever I came over to hang out, but that night, it didn’t matter. Green beef curry, pandan chicken, even the rich, thick Thai tea I liked so much tasted like nothing. Or maybe it tasted like my last meal.

“Cheer up,” Romira told me later, when the two of us had settled on the couch. “It’s not the end of the world,” she said, squeezing my knee.

I gave her a tight smile. Herald and Prudence were clearing the dishes, their overly loud discussion about the Gallery’s newest acquisitions making it all the more obvious that they were skirting the subject of the Heart. Bastion had gone out, to scout the surroundings, he said, but I knew that he felt stifled by that night’s news, too. Lucky him, he could actually go out and breathe. Romira took my hand in hers, patting it.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll see. Odessa will set everything up nicely, and you’ll get to leave Valero safe and sound.” She tilted her head, the room practically lighting up with the brilliance of her smile. “Think of it as taking a vacation, even. Wouldn’t that be nice, Dusty?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It was weird, being so coddled like that, but Romira’s sudden affection was probably exactly what I needed in that moment. “I’m just worried, you know? My dad and everything.”

“Listen. Herald’s warded your dad’s house. Your buddies at the Boneyard will check in on him and protect him, I’m sure.” She tapped the side of her head. “And remember, I’m not just a Hand. I’m an Eye, too. I’ll keep one eye out for him. Don’t you worry.”

I grabbed onto the opportunity to change the subject. “About that, actually. How does it work that some of you guys serve dual purposes? Like Royce, being a Mouth and a Wing at the same time. And you, Hand and Eye, two in one.”

Romira shrugged, her hair gliding smoothly over her bare shoulder. “Overachieving, maybe? Or you know, sometimes, some people are just naturally talented in multiple areas. Some people are good swimmers. Some are good boxers.” She raised a finger, booping me on the end of my nose. “Some people are both.”

“So what does that make you, exactly? Super talented? Lucky?”

“Not quite.” She grinned out of the corner of her mouth, casting a glance towards the sink to check if Herald and Prudence could hear us talking. She leaned in and whispered right into my ear. “I’ve got a contract, Dusty. With one of the entities. I’m a champion.”

I leaned back, my heart thumping, my mouth agape, and my hand clenching so much tighter around her own.

“You’re not serious, are you? I mean, you’re obviously kidding.”

“Not at all.” She retrieved her hand, gathering her tresses as she lifted her hair by the base, tying it into an elegant bun, her eyes never leaving mine. “Patronage, Dust. I gave my soul to the entities.”

Chapter 14

It was Cerberus, Romira said. Cerberus, the fabled three-headed dog that guarded Hades, the Greek equivalent of hell itself, granted her the additional power that made her who she was. Sure, Romira specialized in burning and razing things, throwing balls of fire and manipulating flame.

But she’d mastered the element enough to summon a servant of her own, a sentient construct made out of pure flame who could take over the reception desk when she needed to use the ladies’, or go get some coffee from the Lorica break room. That wasn’t exactly a common talent. Combine that with her ability to scry and use the gift of far-sight, to spy on others or track them down, and she was doubly formidable.

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