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Cat gives me a wink. “Nope. I have to go try to conjure a cake that doesn’t taste like plastic. Wish me luck!” She gives me a kiss on the cheek before leaving and closing the bedroom door behind her.
I turn my attention back to Essos, not at all surprised to find his hawkish gaze on me. I point a warning finger in his direction. “We do not have time for this.”
Essos crosses to me anyway and tugs on the knot holding my towel. “I don’t see why not.”
“Because Spot’s been here for hours.”
My refusal is half-hearted, because I follow it up by pulling Essos’s towel from his hips and letting it drop to the floor. Really, I want this. I want to feel Essos bumping the back of my throat as he fucks my face, moaning my name through his release. I want to have a king on his knees before me, spreading my thighs as he feasts on me.
The training helped remind me that I’m not powerless. This will reinforce that I am a queen capable of making my own decisions. Others might try to force me back into the role of pawn, but this queen is fighting to defend more than just her king.
CHAPTER25
My dad opens the door before we can even approach.
“This is your home too, sweetie, you don’t have to knock,” he says, sweeping me into a hug before shaking Essos’s hand. I chuckle, not bothering to point out that I didn’t even have a chance to knock.
“Are we supposed to bow?” my mom asks, walking in from the kitchen. When she sees Spot, Shadow, and Dave at my side, she turns around and gets treats for them all.
Essos smiles. “Besides the fact that your daughter abhors such deference, I will also say it is not at all necessary.”
“Is everything all right?” I ask jumping in. “We haven’t heard from you since we last visited. I thought there would be more messages through Spot.” I can’t keep the concern out of my voice. The concern that maybe our timeline is getting more condensed. The concern that maybe the president will want to see if he can bomb us anyway, just to flex his military might.
“Oh, we thought it was a one-use only,” my dad says with a shrug. “No, everything is all right. The president was hoping to set up a meeting with you all, eventually. See if you mean us any harm, or if we should expect zombies again. Also, no one really believes you’re gods. It took a lot of favors to get me into the oval office. Besides, I think your mom enjoyed having Spot here.”
My mom hasn’t torn her gaze away from my stomach. “You’ve really popped since we saw you last.”
“Right,” my dad mutters. “Matters of national security, but let’s focus on how much weight Daphne has gained.”
My mom whacks him right at center mass, hard enough that he lets out anoomph. “She is pregnant; she’s not putting on weight. And that is your grandchild. Have you thought aboutthat,crankypants?”
He turns to her. “You might have been able to accept this whole situation like Daphne was telling you her favorite color is red, but I am still digesting the very large meal that is gods and zombies and reincarnation.”
“And that you’re going to be a grandfather,” she points out.
“Yes, that too.”
I smooth my hands over my stomach absently before asking, “So, you need us here to meet with the President? Will they even allow that? We’re gods; they can’t really frisk us. I can make a weapon in the time it takes someone to blink, and they can shoot me and it will hurt a ton, but we won’t die.”
Essos turns to face me, cutting my parents out of the conversation somewhat. “We need to put this off as long as possible. I have an idea, but we need to talk to Rafferty again.”
I make a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. “You know he had the nerve to proposition Cat when he was inourhome last?”
“I can’t say I did, and I can’t say that Xavier knows that either.”
I muse over the idea of Xavier finding out. I wouldn’t hate seeing Xavier staking his claim on Cat in front of the God of Memory, though it would probably violate some friend code, and I reallyshouldn’tmeddle, but damn it, I want her to have a happily ever after too.
“What is your idea?” I press him. My eyes search his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.
“I’m thinking we need to see if your idea for helping the souls in the Underworld forget what happened to them could somehow be implemented in the mortal realm.”
I can’t help the gasp I let out. I mean, I’ve considered that it might be best if everyone in the mortal realm forgot too, but doing that has the same issue of needing a distribution system to get to everyone, and how to target these specific memories. It feels overwhelming to consider, and worst of all, it would require Rafferty, which brings us to the issue at hand.
“We would need Rafferty,” I echo him.
“Indeed,” Essos confirms rubbing his chin.
“What is a Rafferty?” my dad asks.
