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“There’s always a choice,” I said. Pops taught me that. Whether it involved suppressing my strength and speed or entreating with ghosts, my grandfather frequently reminded me that just because I could didn’t mean I should. I was the Jurassic Park of reborn goddesses.
“I agree,” Kane said, “but Edmonds is human, remember.”
I cast him a sidelong glance. “Are you telling me to check my goddess privilege?”
“I’ve seen their struggles firsthand…”
“And I’ve lived them,” I snapped. “I wasn’t born with a deified spoon in my mouth. My childhood wasn’t filled with nectar and jousts.”
Kane cocked an eyebrow. “Jousts?”
“Midnight balls then. I don’t know,” I huffed.
“Magnarella mentioned a gala.”
“He’s hosting a flashy event to attract potential investors.”
“To fund the avatar program?”
“Yep. He isn’t giving up.”
“I can’t decide which is worse— The Corporation in control of a host of deities or Magnarella.”
“I had the same thought. They’re both problematic but for different reasons.”
“You should attend.”
I made a hacking noise. “No thanks.”
He cut me a sideways look. “You don’t think it’s important to see what the new lab is capable of and get a look at those investors? The wrong set of deep pockets could pose a greater threat than The Corporation. It will also buy you time if Magnarella thinks you’re considering his offer.”
Why did Kane have to be so sensible? “Fine, I’ll accept his offer, if only for the purpose of subterfuge. I’m allowed to bring a plus one. Would you like to go? For research purposes, of course.”
He gave me a long look. “Only for research purposes?”
I shrugged. “You look pretty good in a tux. That’s a bonus.” Which meant I’d need a formal dress. That was a problem for Future Lorelei, although I didn’t see more money in her bank account than Present Lorelei’s. If anything, it would be less.
“You’ll need a dress,” Kane said, as though reading my thoughts.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“If you need money…”
I stopped him with a hard look. “I am not accepting handouts.” I didn’t want Kane to view me as weak or needy or incompetent. If he knew the state of my finances, he might offer to help, and then I’d feel so mortified, I’d have to move again and change my phone number. A perfectly reasonable response to an offer of assistance.
“I wasn’t going to offer one,” he said. “I was, however, willing to offer you employment.”
“At the nightclub?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“The Devil’s Playground is not my idea of gainful employment.”
He recoiled. “Lorelei Clay, I never realized you were such a snob.”
“I’m not a snob. I just don’t want to work every day in an environment that caters to supernatural creatures.”
“And yet you moved to Fairhaven.”
