AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I bit back a smile. As much as I hated Prescott sometimes, I liked how nonplussed he was to be around Sunny. Her beauty never seemed to affect him. In fact, he was fiddling with his cufflinks rather than looking at her. I also knew he had chosen his compliment specifically to make her squirm.
It was a little funny to see someone able to throw Sunny off. She was normally so poised.
“You look well,” she forced out through gritted teeth.
It sometimes amazed me how uncomfortable people were around Prescott. Yes, he could kill with a touch, but he didn’t just go around doing that. Bumping into him wouldn’t end with someone keeling over any more than bumping into me would result in a lightning storm. Clerics, who should all know this better than anyone, still squirmed in his presence like he had a terrible disease they might catch.
To her credit, after her initial reaction, Sunny settled back into her chair, only leaning away from him imperceptibly. Cade did little more than grunt his acknowledgment.
“Kill anyone interesting recently?” I blurted.
Oh my gods, Tallulah, how have you survived this long?
Sunny gaped at me, and Cade shook his head, barely containing a chuckle. I just gave a half shrug as if to say, What do you expect from me?
“Nothing too out of the ordinary.” Prescott was looking at me in a funny way, and I wondered if he thought I was referring to the dead kids. “I caught your show on TV last night, though. Impressive.”
It almost sounded like a compliment.
“Oh,” Sunny said. “Oh, yes. Lula, I saw it on my flight in. I totally forgot to say something. It was magnificent. Job well done. I can’t remember ever seeing anything quite like it.” Her voice dropped. “Put that silly snowstorm to shame.”
My heart glowed.
“Lula.” Cade tested the nickname out so quietly I don’t think anyone else heard him say it. I poked him in the thigh with my pinkie finger, and he caught it with his own, our hands joined in the smallest of ways for half a second, before he withdrew and crossed his arms over his chest.
The gray suit strained.
I wanted to bite his biceps.
“It was quite the dress you were wearing,” Prescott added.
“Thank you.” I suddenly felt shy, and I didn’t know why. Could this presentation just start already?
I craned my neck around, scanning the area. Media types were chatting with each other, cameras dangling from their necks. The regular civilians were looking bored. I spotted Sawyer, and the second we made eye contact she waved. I nodded and smiled.
The chairs all around us had been filled, and now the seating area was completely full. I noticed Deedee sitting at the back next to a cleric for one of the fertility goddesses. She gave me a funny look when she saw how close I was sitting to Prescott, as if I were working with the enemy.
When would I get a chance to explain to her the only enemy we had was one outside the fold? I’d have to make time once the convention got rolling to set her mind at ease about Prescott. Then she could go back to disliking him for the same reasons everyone else did, and not because she was convinced he was killing children.
Security guards were everywhere in the lobby. I could see them milling around above us as well, poised and ready for anything.
I hoped.
A slight woman took the stage, and all the chatter came to a stop. Imelda, the master of ceremonies, wasn’t much to look at size-wise. She was barely five feet tall and built as small as a doll, but she commanded the respect and attention of the room without saying a word. Her dark hair was cut into a smoothly polished bob, which she tidied for no reason as she waited for us to pay attention.
Without using a microphone she said, “Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome to the annual Convention of the Gods. I want to thank you all for taking the time to join us once again.” Like this was optional. “We have a very exciting event schedule for the week, and lots of great, informative content. Remember, if you need to settle any disputes between your liege gods, that’s only to take place during allocated grievance sessions. Physical fights will not be tolerated.”
The cleric for Ares grumbled something under his breath. Yeah, Todd, we know. You love punching people.
Imelda continued to talk about how the week would go. Sunny, in her first year, was absolutely rapt in her focus. She didn’t even seem to care that she was sitting next to Prescott anymore. She flipped through her program book, trying to keep up with everything Imelda was saying.
Imelda was a former cleric, now high priestess for Chronos, god of time. It occurred to me I should find an opportunity to talk to her this week, since one of the dead initiates had been destined for her temple. I doubted she would have any answers, but she might be amenable to giving me some more open access to the event if she knew I was trying to find the killer.
Once she finished talking about all the banquets and panels, she reminded us we were strongly recommended to attend all the public addresses—times were listed in our guides—and that missing them would be frowned upon.
Public speeches were mandatory. Check.
I was starting to get restless, poking through my tote bag to see what other goodies we’d been provided. There was a nice metal pen. Score.
