The god’s gaze flicks down to me. “Why?”

“So you can sleep? Rest? Relax?

“Sleep,” he repeats, and I don’t know if he’s considering the suggestion or trying to figure out what it means. “Very well. Go and retrieve the prelate and tell him I wish for a chamber.”

I get to my feet and dust off the bottom of my too-short minidress-slash-skirt. I have to admit I want to hear what they’re saying. I cross the room and take my way winding through the crowd that remains.

I sidle up to the two men engaged in furious conversation in the corner of the room. They haven’t noticed I’m approaching, and so I move ever so silently closer, trying to stealth in on their chat.

“It should be obvious which one he is,” the prelate is murmuring. “The question is, what do we do about it?”

“What we have to,” the soldier—my old owner—says. “If she can’t be controlled, and he can’t be swayed, Aventine might be better off…”

I accidentally kick a half-eaten piece of fruit that squelches against my foot as I move forward, and both men look over at me. Shit. I smile brightly, putting on my most vapid expression so they won’t see the fear pounding in my heart. I don’t understand most of their conversation, but I’m pretty sure it’s not good news. “Hi. The god is ready to go to sleep for the night. Is there a room prepared for him?” And just because I can’t help but be a little catty toward these two jerks, I add, “Something appropriate for his amazing godhood, of course.”

Both men exchange a look. Neither one moves from their shadowy corner. “My rooms are the finest in this temple,” the prelate says after a moment. “I can have them readied for him. And you? What do you require?”

They stare at me so hard that I feel like I’m on the spot. I get the sense that this question is loaded. “Like…sleep-wise? I’m pretty sure he wants me to sleep with him. In his room,” I add because that might sound a little slutty. Truth be told, I thought I’d be getting into this gig and doing that sort of thing to save my hide, but so far Aron of the Cleaver has shown zero interest in my person. It’s kind of a relief…if only he wasn’t so insulting about it.

“Sleep-wise or anything else,” the prelate says. “Do you require money? Wealth? Jewelry? Do you like pretty things?” He smiles creepily.

At first, I’m insulted. Is he asking if I like shiny objects because I’m a fucking girl? Then I realize there’s a far more sinister aspect to this. I’m being bribed. At some point, because I’m now attached to that sparking, pale asshole of a god, I’ve become important. I can switch allegiances and go with these guys and whatever nefarious shit they have planned. I can help them take out Aron—because I have no doubt in my mind that this is the ultimate plan to take back control—and ask whatever I want in money or prizes. I can ask for all the slaves in the city to be freed. I can ask for anything and everything.

All I have to do is work with these two.

I consider it for a brief, shining moment. Aron hasn’t won any love from me. Guy’s an enormous dick and loves to make me feel small on a regular basis, and I’ve only known him for a few hours. I don’t have anything in this world and these two are offering me safety and security…sort of.

But then I think of how Aron saved the lives of all the blonde slaves. Maybe there’s something under that asshole exterior after all. I’ve been brought here for a reason, and Aron’s that reason—I think. I can’t betray him. Not when he saved me, too. He could have looked me up and down like the prelate did, sneered at me, and picked a different blonde. Instead, he tied himself to me and me to him.

I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a traitor. “I’m good, thanks.”

Their expressions grow cold. Shuttered. The prelate nods. “So be it. I will have my slaves prepare the chambers for the Lord of Storms.”

“Spiffy. I’ll tell him.” I keep the bright smile on my face though everything in me is screaming to run away. This feels…wrong. I can’t quite shake the feeling that these two are going to try something, and I need to be aware of it.

Aron does, too.

OceanofPDF.com

9

A short time later, Aron and I are led down the winding stone halls of the temple. They descend into the earth and I’m reminded of the pyramids back home, but we only go down a few floors, where the stones are cooler and overall the humid heat from above is nonexistent. The temperature change makes the place pleasant for all that it’s endless carved stone and torchlit halls. At the end of one of the long hallways, double doors are opened and we’re led into a sumptuous, enormous chamber. There are more torches along the walls, so the room is a little smoky, and straw is scattered over the stone floors, which seems like a fire hazard to me.

There’s a large circular bed in the center of the room, ornate draperies hanging above it like a headboard. Anchored on one wall is a massive ornate axe, the symbol of Aron himself. The bed looks big enough for four people. This is a nice room…but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re not safe.

The prelate’s nowhere around, though. There are serving girls, all dressed in the short linen skirt and nothing else, and they bow and simper and wait for Aron to address them.

He stands in the room and it’s clear he doesn’t know what to do next. Poor guy’s pretty lost. I suspect this is all very new to him. I also think he wouldn’t want them to see how he doesn’t have basic knowledge of things like sleep or clothing. So I step forward and gesture at the serving girls. “You can all leave now.”

They look surprised and hesitate. A few of them glance over at Aron, as if waiting to see if he contradicts me.

The god gives them his best imperious look. “Did you not hear my anchor?”

“Of course, my lord,” one murmurs breathlessly and then they’re all bent over, bowing and scuttling from the room like frightened crabs.

I wait patiently until they’re gone, and then I shut the heavy wooden doors to the room behind us. After that, I move around the room, pulling up wall hangings and looking for secret passages. I find one behind an ornate tapestry in front of a statue, and push the statue back against the door there so no one can get in. And then I shove one of the heavy wooden chests against it, barricading us in. That done, I look over at Aron.

He stands in the middle of the room, watching me with a curious look on his face. Still naked. I realize a moment later I’ve more or less locked myself into a room with a naked man who can do anything he wants to me. God, I’m dumb. I hope he’ll realize now is not the time to get freaky, though. “We need to talk.”

“I thought we came to this room to sleep. Is that not what humans do?” Incredibly, he manages to sound as imperious in private as he does in public.

“You and I need to get some basic groundwork established so we can work together as a team—”

“We are still not a team,” he snarls at me, and I can hear distant thunder rumble overhead.

“Fine, whatever,” I exclaim. God, he’s still pissypants even in private. What the hell? But that doesn’t mean I can’t work around this. I have to because I can’t shake the feeling that the prelate is up to something bad. But I need to know more about Aron for starters so I know what I’m working with. “Can I ask you a few questions? I just want to know a bit more about this you and me thing.” I gesture between the two of us. “I’m not used to being an anchor or whatever it is I’m called. I’m not entirely clear on what that means.”

“You had to clear everyone out of this room so you could ask me what an anchor is?” He crosses his arms over his chest, stance arrogant as if he’s not buck naked in front of me. It takes everything I have to maintain eye contact, because every time he moves, the jiggle of his hog is distracting.