The Struggle(23)

Basil snapped his fingers, drawing my attention again. Opening my eyes, I saw a woman step out onto the balcony. Her golden gown billowed around her legs.

I stilled.

She was a blonde and tall like . . . I sucked in a sharp breath. The gown did very little to hide the curves of her body.

“Lydia would be honored to serve you,” Basil said softly, so quietly I thought I was hearing crap.

The pure-blood came forward, and my brows rose as she lowered herself onto her knees before me. “Please,” she said, staring up at me with eyes as blue as the sea at the shores. “We can help you.”

“Help me?” I repeated dumbly.

She nodded.

“You’re blonde,” I croaked out, wondering why all the damn priestesses that I’d seen so far were blonde.

A look of confusion marked the woman’s face as her hand floated to the long strands. “Do you . . . do you not like blondes?”

I really didn’t have a preference to be honest, and Josie’s hair wasn’t just one shade of blonde or brown. It was an odd mixture I’d never seen before.

I also couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud.

Irritation rose. “I’m done.” I waved one hand as I looked over at Basil in warning. “This is not going to happen.”

The priestess hesitated and then looked over her shoulder questioningly. When he nodded, she rose. She hurried from the balcony.

“Go,” I ordered roughly.

Basil bowed stiffly and then exited through the archway, entering the house. I was alone once more.

What in the hell happened to this place?

Not that this wasn’t an improvement from when my mother ran this house. There’d been beatings and parties and beatings and guests. There hadn’t been priests or priestesses.

Or staff that actually wanted to be here.

There most definitely hadn’t been a pillared temple at the end of the honey-scented, wild thyme-filled courtyard. The really weird part of that? The thing had to have taken at least a year or so to build. It didn’t just appear in the last couple of weeks.

I’d seen the temple on the first day. Above the entryway, the invincibility rune was carved into the sandstone. Two priestesses in amber-garbed gowns had waited outside.

I hadn’t gone in.

I would not go in.

This place was fucking bizarre.

For what the gods have feared has come to pass.

“Hell,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to the starry night. “You out there, Apollo? Eavesdropping? You hear what that nymph had to say?”

There was no answer, but I laughed anyway. “Out with the old and in with the new, eh? Does that mean your time has come?”

Still no answer.

Not that I expected any of the gods to come within a mile of me now.

I sat for a while and a while turned into maybe an hour or three. Tossing back the rest of the Metaxa, a native liquor, I held the glass up and watched as the crystal folded into itself, evaporating into dust with just a mere thought and an even smaller push of aether.

That was new.

Standing, I swayed a little to the right, my foot knocking into an empty bottle of the spicy brandy. The other was only half empty. I swiped that one off the floor and took a deep drink. Who needed glasses anyway?

I started to walk back through the doors and then remembered that walking was for losers. Smirking, I decided I wanted to go to the room I chose, and I felt my body shift—actually, it felt like all the cells in my body were buzzing apart and coming back together.

Strangest damn sensation.

A second later, I was inside the cavernous room my mother used to reserve for special guests. I still hadn’t gone to my mother’s old chambers. If I went to that room, I’d probably set it afire.

I opened my eyes and cursed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Another priestess was perched on the ornate bench at the foot of the bed, her hands folded primly in her lap. This one was older, probably somewhere in her mid-thirties. Still beautiful. Her hair was pulled back from her face and left hanging down the center of her back.

And holy shit, she wasn’t a blonde.

Fisting the bottle, I raised it to my mouth. “You have about five seconds to leave this room or you won’t be leaving it in one piece.”

The priestess rose slowly, unlocking her fingers. “Please hear me out first.”

I swallowed the fiery liquid. “Four seconds.”

“My name is Karina.”

“Three seconds.”

A small smile appeared. “I am the head priestess of the Temple of the Appointed.”

Basil may have mentioned at some point that the Temple was called that, and I may have immediately disregarded that piece of information. “Two seconds.”

“And you, Seth the Appointed, are a god.”