Sin & Surrender (Demigod of San Francisco #6)(53)

15





Alexis





When I swung my gaze back to the Line, it abruptly disappeared, and the shadow with it. Colors returned to normal. The freezing grip that had squeezed my middle relented.

Magnus’s gaze was heavy on me, his eyes analyzing—or maybe accusatory?

A “yay” came in, then another, my heart still hammering despite it.

“Yay,” Magnus said when his turn came, his stare intense.

“Yay.” Zander banged the gavel. “Passes, six to one. The mark is valid. Now, Alexis, let’s move on to other business.”

Magnus’s brow rumpled and he finally looked away, peering over at Zander. Apparently he hadn’t realized there would be other business.

“I have questions about the Thunderstroke,” Zander said, and Magnus’s look went from confused to flat and disinterested.

The sound of the doors opening echoed through the lofty hall.

I didn’t have time to relax before my body wound up again. Dylan’s shoulders were tight and his eyes panicked, but he walked in with his head held high, as befitted one of Zeus.

“What about him?” I asked, dread squeezing me a second time. I wasn’t the only valuable one the Demigods wanted to get their hands on.

Dylan sat in the chair beside me, which he scooted a little closer until it was touching mine.

“The situation surrounding him is highly unusual.” Zander leaned forward, and hunger sparked in his gaze. Despite his reputation as a rule follower, it was clear that even Zander wasn’t above scheming to acquire a rarity for his collection. “We need to make sure that he wasn’t…cornered into the position he now holds, you understand.”

“All due respect,” I said, “that’s rich, coming from the lot of you. You grilled me about my very legitimate mark, but you didn’t bat an eye at the bogus mark he was forced to endure in the past.”

“He was not brought before us, therefore his mark could not be called into question.”

“Why do you think he wasn’t brought before you?” I waited a moment, my cheeks hot. “Because he was confined while being physically and emotionally abused by his captor. He was sufficiently cornered there, yet no one showed up to help him. Now that he’s in a good situation for once in his life, he’s the subject of scrutiny? Do you only go after those who don’t require your help, or what?”

“Just a moment, young lady,” Zander said, his voice dropping an octave and his intensity making the hairs on my arms stand at attention. “I ask that you have a little patience.” It was entirely too clear that he wasn’t asking. “Gianna kept that boy under lock and key. We didn’t see him. Out of sight, out of mind.”

I clenched my fist. What a sorry excuse.

“Now, Mr. Maccini—”

“That is no longer my name,” Dylan cut in. “I started a new life. I’ve chosen a new name.”

Zander braced his forearms against the desk surface. “Did Demigod Kieran urge you to take a new name?” he asked.

“I chose a new name when I landed in that Chester town in the hills. Demigod Kieran accepted the name I offered him.”

“Yes, let’s talk about how you ended up in that Chester town. Demigod Gianna was poisoned. You were both poisoned—poison was found in your bowls and in your blood work—and you were both pronounced dead. I inquired at the time and had it on good authority that you were thoroughly dead. The person responsible was never found, but given you’d gone down with the ship, so to speak, we had no reason to suspect it was you. But now, here you are, strong as a lark. I find all of this highly suspicious.”

“I couldn’t have poisoned her, if that’s what you mean. Not with the blood oath.” Dylan fidgeted with his shirt.

“Maybe not you, but certainly an accomplice isn’t out of the realm of possibility.”

Dylan laughed without humor. “An accomplice? I wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone without supervision. I wasn’t allowed to have any friends. If I could’ve poisoned her and granted my freedom, I would’ve, believe me. If I could’ve found a way to end my own life just to get away, I would’ve. But I was trapped. Thoroughly trapped. Granting my own salvation was impossible.”

“Then how did you escape?” Zander pressed.

Dylan shrugged. “To this day, I still don’t know. I remember my throat closing up and the taste of bile. I remember clawing at my neck, desperately gasping for air but not getting any. Gianna was beside me, doing the same thing. Magic exploded around the room. The pain was excruciating, and given Demigod Gianna’s fancy for whips, nipple clamps, hot wax, and strap-ons, that’s saying something.”

The accusation in Zander’s eyes dulled somewhat. His face twisted in disgust. “I see.”

“Pardon my bluntness, sir, but no, you do not. I lived in hell on earth. Trapped, like I said. Caged, like an animal, at times. I longed for death more than once. Dying itself was excruciating, but as the blackness blotted out my vision and the pain lifted, I was honestly happy to be released. The last memory I have of the attack is lying on the floor on my side and seeing the door open. My last thought was Please let death release me from this life. That’s all I remember.”

“And yet you haven’t been released at all.” The guy at the end leaned forward this time, his eyes alight. “That pretty little Soul Stealer—”