Seduction (Curse of the Gods #3)(7)

“What is it?” he asked. “Where did the dweller-Emmy go?”

“She gave me the slip.” My voice sounded hollow, disbelieving. “Again.”

He made a grunting sound, and it felt as if more of the anger bled out of him. It seemed that he was almost fully over the need to kill the three sols, which was both a relief and a disappointment. A few less dick-sols—as they would be henceforth referred to—would do our worlds some good.

What the hell is Emmy up to? Rome’s anger was dissipating, just in time for mine to rear its head again.

“I’m probably almost definitely going to kill my sister when I get my hands on her again,” I snarled, as we finally made our way into the dining hall.

The crowds were thinning a little, and I barely noticed the looks shooting our way. At this time, the dwellers and sols were going about their normal routines: the dwellers were serving, and the sols were … being blessed. There was an air of change about the place: a dash more attitude from those forced to serve. A few dwellers exited the kitchen, and I recognised a bushy head of hair. Evie. Our eyes locked as if she’d heard my thoughts, and I tensed, wondering how she would react. I expected a sneer, because the dwellers still thought I was a traitor; instead, she gave me a half-smile and a slight nod, before she turned to deliver her tray to a nearby table.

That was weird. Even weirder than normal, which was definitely saying something since Evie was one of the instigators of the dweller uprising. Evie and Emmy were both instigators, along with Atti. And now Evie and Emmy were both acting strange.

Emmy … my slippery, sneaky sister.

Rome kept one hand firmly planted on my shoulder, weaving me through the tables. I should have made him hold on to Emmy like this. No one was slipping out from under that firm grip.

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready.” He seemed to be reading my thoughts again. “Knowing what I do about her—meaning the little I have bothered to learn—your Emmy-dweller isn’t completely reckless. There’s a reason to her weirdness.”

A cold fear clenched inside my chest, and breathing became painful for a few beats. “She lost her … guy. Her love-partner-person.” I got choked up, swallowing hard and continuing. “Lost is a stupid way to put it. It’s not like Atti is just wandering around with an upside-down map asking for directions. He isn’t really lost … he’s gone. He’s dead and now lives in Topia as a server named Judy. Emmy isn’t acting rationally, and I can’t wait for her to be ready to tell me!”

Rome let out an exaggerated breath, which I pretended not to hear, because I already knew that I was being a pain in the ass.

“He’s not a server in Topia,” Rome explained patiently. “We already checked for you.”

I wanted to believe him, but I knew they would lie to me to protect my feelings. Especially since there was nothing they could do even if Atti-Judy had been taken to Topia as a server. We were at the table now, and some of the pain in my body lessened as four sets of eyes locked onto me.

“What’s going on?” Siret leaned forward in his chair.

The deep, midnight purple of his shirt was fitted across his broad chest, and even though I was upset, I couldn’t help but stare at him as I answered.

“Emmy is hiding something. We just found her in a clandestine meeting with three sols—and not just any sols,” I continued on in a rush. “Sols whose fathers are in the running to be the next Vice-Chancellor of Blesswood. This can’t be a coincidence.”

Not a single expression at the table changed; the politics of Minatsol registered at about a minus five on their give-a-shit-meter.

“Why would a dweller be secretly meeting with sols!” I almost shrieked, sick of no one taking me seriously.

Coen leaned back in his chair, his arms stretched behind his head as he regarded me solemnly. “If you want us to track her down, I can make sure she doesn’t move until she tells you everything.”

I was almost desperate enough to take him up on his offer, but I felt there was less of a chance that she would openly talk with the Abcurses around. Which meant that I needed to get her alone.

I’d keep that as plan B. “I might eventually take you up on that, but not yet.”

He shrugged, his lips tilting up lazily as he continued to stare at me. I found myself fighting the urge to crawl across the table and launch myself at him. Ever since Coen and Aros had unlocked my Beta side, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way they’d touched me and the way my power had exploded.

It was driving me crazy.

Between those thoughts and the Emmy stresses, I was shocked that they hadn’t carted me off to a healer for a mental evaluation.

Yael snorted from my right side. “I’m sure that your mother had something like that tested many life-cycles ago.”

No doubt I should be offended by that, but instead I was blindsided by a mental image of my mum. Her blonde curls haywire, which they always were after a big night out. Washed-out blue eyes intersected with red veins. Always bloodshot. Most of the time she was passed out, no time to care or notice enough of my behaviour to worry about whether I was crazy or not. Hell, half the time she acted even worse than me.

I think I surprised all of us when I answered quite seriously. “My mother wasn’t concerned with anything but herself and alcohol. I frustrated her, but I was also easily shoved aside. If it wasn’t for Emmy … it would have been a lonely existence.”