Thirty-Three ◑ The God

The wind howled from all directions, pressing down on Lucille as though to assist the pull of gravity. The buildings around the rooftop towered over her, the gleam from their windows blurring into the tiny pinpricks of the streetlights below.

Lucille tried to inhale and calm herself, but hysteria was already flooding up her chest. The muscles on her face were already numb. The chain of the bracelet that Cade had given her was slowly digging into her skin as Keiran’s hands clenched over her wrists. The joints in her shoulders were starting to hurt. Her entire weight was straining against her highly flimsy bones and tissues, and thinking about them snapping made her heart drum in her ears.

“Keiran,” she managed to stammer, her voice tiny and shrill. “Let me go!”

The god loosened his grip. “Sure, my darling—"

“Not like that!” she screeched. “Pull me up!”

“So you are afraid of heights,” Keiran confirmed in a low, thoughtful tone, tapping his index finger against her wrist. “Or are you just afraid of falling?”

Lucille didn’t know whether to weep, cry, or throttle him. Maybe even all of the above. “Stop with the goddamn Facebook quotes and pull me up!”

“I have forgotten how loud you are.” He clucked his tongue and slowly lessened the pressure of his hands around her wrists. “Perhaps this will silence you.”

She tipped forward, closer to the yawning maze of streets that would cause her certain death. The situation had made her desperate enough to use her own magic against him, but at the same time she didn’t want to risk it. She was dealing with someone unstable here, someone who wouldn’t hold back.

And in this case, he really didn’t seem keen on holding back. Literally.

“Please,” Lucille said, wincing because saying the word was a stab to her pride. “Please pull me up.”

Pause, then. . . .

“Oh, alright,” Keiran said at last, putting an arm around her waist and hoisting her down from the ledge. Relief filled her up to the brim, both physically and emotionally. She heaved a long sigh as she flexed her aching shoulders and wrists, enjoying the feel of solid ground beneath her feet. When opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off with a very patronizing question: “Now what did we learn?”

Lucille straightened her cape in jerky motions and decided to match his tone. “I learned that you’re still a sadistic psychopath.”

“What else?”

“I learned that I must not touch sadistic psychopaths.”

Keiran broke into a wide grin. “Very good, Lucille.”

Seriously, the dude wasn’t even worth retorting to. She just watched him in disgust as he casually fixed his, but she did understand why he was very strict about touching. It had been one of the first rules he had set upon meeting her.

Touching Keiran was the equivalent of controlling him, thus controlling fate. He'd said before that the transfer of power itself would destroy a mortal anyway, but she'd always had a feeling that there was more to it than that. His vigilance told her that much. She guessed that it was because he himself feared the possibilities of his own fate. He couldn't make himself intangible like Dimitri, couldn't scatter his essence like him.

Keiran only had one essence, one spirit, and it was only ever in one place.

He was probably the most powerful god for he could see everyone's destiny, but he was also the most vulnerable. It was the reason why he'd always traveled with his twin. Dimitri served as his companion and his protector. Keiran couldn't risk a true fight. It was the reason why he'd preferred to hide and fly under the radar.

And that only makes his presence here weirder and more suspicious.

“Why are you really here, Keiran?” Lucille asked, leaning against the ledge. “And why is Dimitri not with you?”

“He's terribly busy,” he said smoothly, but she could tell that it was a lie. “I don't need him for this talk, anyway.”

“And what talk are you intending to give me?”

Keiran stared at her then, his blue eyes narrowed. He was slowly biting his lower lip, playing for time and quite possibly sizing her up. “Remember what I told you? About my powers? That was way back when we had our first orientation of some sorts. You were sitting in front of me, and you were totally checking me out—”

“That’s not how I remember it, but yeah, sure,” she said dryly. “I know the basics of your powers and whatnot. So what?”

“So now I will re-orient you,” he explained, propping an elbow against the ledge and facing her. “Back then, I told you that even though I’m considered to be an all-seeing god, I don’t actually see all things at once. I only see the big picture, the crossroads, the major points. There’s still a lot of control left for you mortals. If we adapt to today’s analogy, you can say I’m giving you the puzzle pieces, but it’s still up to you how you’re going to put it together, even though I already know what image you’re going to make. I just get to watch as you struggle, trying to figure out which goes where.”

“Wow. It’s almost like I’ve never heard this from you five hundred times before.”

“One more round won’t hurt you, woman.” He tapped the tip of her nose. “As I was saying, I take immense entertainment in watching clueless humans fumble around. If I’m in a good mood, I give a few nudges here and there. As for you, since I have taken a particular interest in your life, I look into your bag of puzzle pieces and occasionally hand you what to stick on next. That’s how nice I am. And that’s how ungrateful you are.”

She snorted. “I apologize and thank you for the puzzle tips, master.”

His hearty laugh echoed around the rooftop. “I suppose you see now that it’s vital that only I should see into the future, right? It’s dangerous for humans to know too much. This is why I got the oracles banned. They never shut their mouths. Also, Apollo had taken credit for that.” His eyes went flinty. “That golden bastard. Good thing he and his stupid family have faded. Irrelevant little rags.”

“Um, the dangers of too much human knowledge?” Lucille prompted awkwardly. She still wasn’t comfortable with him bringing up the deities that disappeared. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Oh, that doesn’t really have nothing to do with you since you still don’t know much.” Keiran waved a hand airily. “Actually, I’m just here to tell you that I’ve lost sight of your big picture.”

The silence that followed was a toxic mix of pure bewilderment, disbelief, and godly nonchalance.

“What?” Lucille spluttered. “You . . . you can’t see my fate now?"

"Uh-huh."

Panic crawled up her throat. "Does this mean that you won’t be able to, you know, hand me the next puzzle pieces and help me out of possible dangers?”

“That is exactly what it means.” Keiran pointed at her like she was a student who aced her recitation. “When I concentrate on you, all I see is black. Nothing. Nada. It’s almost like you vanished from my radar. So no guidance, no help, no rescue, no anything. Not even when you really need it."