“Your father is a complex man. Believe it or not, he feels things deeply—so deeply he shoves the emotions down and refuses to analyze them. If you asked him, he’d probably say he never loved her. But I know he did—and still does. Every time we make love, I see her ghost in his eyes.”

I sighed deeply. “I already told you, Tristan’s life is none of my business.”

“If you really think that, why are you here?”

“I’m here because I need his help to avenge my sister’s death,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “The sister he had no interest in beyond helping him pay Cain back for that fucking love spell that set us all on this collision course.”

“Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know, Nyx. He had fifty-four years to find Maisie and me, but instead he chose to hunt down the boogeyman.”

“He tried to keep up with your lives. With Maisie it was simple at first because of Orpheus.”

Remembering what Tristan told me, I nodded. “Orpheus kept him updated on her. At least until Tristan stopped communicating with him.”

“Tristan knew that if Cain found out he still had ties to Orpheus, he wouldn’t be safe. So he cut off all contact to protect his friend. You have to understand that.”

On some level I did. Still, it didn’t make the truth hurt any less. Someone was watching over Maisie while I fended for myself against Lavinia.

Nyx grimaced. “But after he lost Orpheus as a contact and you killed Thomas, he still tried to keep up with both of you. He’s even got a photo album filled with pictures.”

“Whatever,” I said. “An album doesn’t make someone a father.”

“That’s true. But I’d like to ask you to give him a chance to do that now.”

“Why should I?”

“Because it may be the only chance either of you will have.”

“Look, Nyx,” I said, rising and brushing my damp hands on my jeans, “I appreciate what you’re saying, but it’s not that easy.”

She took my hand and squeezed it. “It’s not that easy for him, either. I know he’s… difficult. But he honestly believed he was doing the best thing for both of you.” The conviction in her eyes made me feel sorry for her. She was clearly in love with Tristan, but from what I’d seen, he treated her like shit. What’s worse, she didn’t even realize that he was as driven by the need for revenge as I was—more, given how long he’d been going after Cain. He wasn’t trying to protect Maisie or me. He was biding his time until he could use one of us to make Cain pay for fucking him over.

Kill her, that seductive voice whispered. Put her out of her misery before she finds out Tristan doesn’t care about her. Before he uses her like he wants to use you.

A white-hot spot of pain bloomed in my temple. My conscience, probably. A warning, definitely. Killing Nyx might erase my debt to Asclepius and prevent Cain from ambushing us, but I wouldn’t escape with my soul intact. Maybe I’d lost my edge, but I also was shocked to realize I didn’t miss it all that much, despite the ramifications.

I removed my hand from her grasp. “I need to go.”

Nyx sighed and stood. “Thanks for listening.”

I nodded and turned, but I felt that to just turn my back on her now would be cruel. I stopped and said, “Not that it makes much difference, but I’m glad you never ate that apple.”

She stilled. “I never said I didn’t eat the apple.”

My stomach sank. “What?” I whispered. If she was telling the truth, that meant Nyx was no longer immortal.

Which would explain why she needed Asclepius’s vest. As the pieces clicked into place, relief flooded me that I’d won the battle against the old, bloodthirsty voice in my head.

Nyx nodded. “Tristan found me after I’d eaten half of it. He didn’t stop me from becoming mortal. He just stopped me from becoming dead.”

I blew out a long, slow breath. I might regret my next question, but part of me wanted to hear her side of the story Asclepius told me. “How have you managed to stay alive all this time? I mean, no offense, but your lifestyle isn’t exactly safe.” I tried to keep my tone curious, light, but it came out sounding all squeaky.

A twinkle appeared in her eye. “Remember how I told you Tristan put me in charge of research?” When I nodded, she continued. “I ran across this ancient rite to implore the god of healing for help. I did the ritual and he made me this.” She opened the top three buttons of her blouse to reveal the vest. The golden chain mail winked in the firelight. “As long as I wear it, I am immune to all weapons.” She ran a hand over the golden links. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

My heart picked up speed. “What did the god ask for in return?” I prayed she’d offer some explanation that would prove Asclepius was lying so I’d be off the hook.

Her eyes skittered away from mine. “A simple blood sacrifice, nothing more.”

My heart sank. Dammit. So Asclepius had been telling the truth about Nyx running out on her bill, so to speak.

“Dealing with the gods is dangerous, Nyx.”

“Sabina,” she began, her voice serious, “I was ready to die that night in Budapest, but your father showed me that I could channel my sadness and use it for the greater good. Stopping Cain is worth any price paid to the gods, or anyone else for that matter.”

I should have warned her. Should have told her that Cain wasn’t the only enemy looking for her. But instead, I took the coward’s way out. “I need to go find Adam. Good night, Nyx.”

The glow in her eyes dimmed and a disappointed grimace turned down the corners of her mouth. But she nodded and said quietly, “You too, Sabina. Please don’t tell Tristan about our conversation. He can be quite… fiercely protective of his privacy.”

Not a problem, I thought. The last thing I wanted was to have a heart-to-heart with Tristan Graecus. I nodded. “Understood.”

With that, I turned and walked away from my chance of getting Asclepius off my back. But at least my conscience was clear. Now that the decision was made, I felt lighter somehow, clean.

Ironic that the first time I’d ever walked away from a kill also marked the moment I might have ensured all our deaths. Because unless we figured out a way to stop Cain before Asclepius’s deadline, he was coming for us.

Chapter 25

I walked back into the bungalow with my shoulders slumped. Adam stood in the kitchen, drinking wine from a bottle.

“Oh gods,” he said, his tone defeated. “What did you do?”

I squinted at him. “What?”

“Nyx. Did you do it?”

I shot him a give-me-a-break glare. “Of course not.”

He perked up. “Really?”

I briefly considered acting affronted, but he’d see right through it. “Don’t get me wrong. I thought about it. But then she told me this sob story about her dead parents and how Tristan saved her from committing suicide.”

Adam frowned. “Wha—”

I waved a hand. “Long story. Anyway, I couldn’t do it. She’s so… nice,” I said bitterly. “And as much as I hate to admit it, you were right. There has to be another way to get Asclepius off my back.”

Adam sighed and set down the wine bottle. “Come here.” He opened his arms.

I walked into them and went limp against his sturdy weight. “We’re doomed.”

He pulled back and tilted my chin up. “No, but you do have to tell Tristan what’s up.”

I groaned. “Like I said, doomed.”

“I know Tristan’s not exactly easy to talk to, but he’s easier to reason with than the psychotic killer who wants to kidnap the Queen of Irkalla.”

“True.” I sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. When the time is right.”

He shot me a dubious look.

“What? It’s not like I’m going to blurt it out before the test. ‘Hey, Dad,’ ” I mocked, “ ‘a healing god wants your girlfriend dead or he’s going to sell us out to your mortal enemy.’ ”

Adam chuckled. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

I nodded and looked around, realizing we hadn’t been interrupted by a certain demon’s snarky commentary. “Where’s Giguhl?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but the door flew open and the Mischief stomped in. Judging from his thunderous expression, the talk with Valva hadn’t been friendly.

He stomped across the room and dropped into the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Well, that sucked ass.”

“What happened?” I asked as gently as I could.

The demon leaned forward and put his horned head in his claws. “She wants me back.”

Adam and I exchanged a worried look. “And?” the mancy prompted.

Giguhl looked up, his expression tortured. “And I told her no way. Been there, done that, have the scars to prove it.”

“Good for you,” I said.

He grimaced. “Don’t get too excited. She told me a lot of stuff. About why she had to break it off with me. About how she still wants my body. I don’t know”—he scrubbed a claw over his face—“she sounded pretty convincing.”

“Of course she did.” I rolled my eyes. “She’s an excellent actress.”

“Yeah, but part of me wants to believe her.”

I was pretty sure I knew exactly which part he was thinking with. “Well, don’t listen to that part. It only gets you in trouble.”

Giguhl shot me a bitch-please look. “I was referring to my heart, gutter brain.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll admit she still makes the Pitchfork vibrate, but it’s not just about sex. I loved her.”

“It’s only natural you’d be having doubts,” Adam said. “She broke it off with you without any explanation. Of course you’d want to believe she was forced into it. But you have to use your head here, G. If she’s telling the truth and you get back together with her, how long until Mommy Dearest calls her back again?”