Goddess Of The Underworld (Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 125

I stared at the comet until my chest felt less crowded. It helped. A little. Not enough.

“Mace?” I whispered.

Her eyes didn’t open, but her eyebrows did a question. That counts.

“I think my real family might be looking for me,” I said, the words small and big at the same time. “Like…my same kind. Maybe same blood.”

She made an encouraging “mm,” then nudged Fergus toward me so he could hear properly. Half–asleep Macey is very generous with her staff.

“I don’t know if they’re nice,” I went on, because if I didn’t say all the pieces, they’d keep rolling around. “The threads said kin and child. Levi says they’re Soul Eaters like me. Maybe they’re just trying to see if I’m real. But what if my family here doesn’t like them? What if my family here hurts my… maybe–family?” The last bit tasted wrong together. I swallowed and tried again. “What if they hurt you?”

Macey’s lashes fluttered. “You’re right here,” she mumbled into the blanket, very practical. Then, like she just remembered, her hand fished out from under the duvet and patted my cheek twice. “Two hands,” she declared.

I turned my head. “What?”

“One for old family,” she said, holding up a finger without opening her eyes, “one for new family.” Second finger, very wobbly. “If one hand is mean, you put it down.” Both fingers dropped onto the blanket to demonstrate. Then she found my palm and set her small

hand there. “This hand is for me.”

That helped more than the comet.

“I don’t want anyone to bite anyone,” I said, which was true, even if the picture of Layah snapping at a rude thread made a satisfied place in my chest purr.

At the foot of the bed, Layah’s tail thumped once without her lifting her head. Correct.

“I think there was a little boy,” I whispered, because the words wanted out even if she wasn’t fully listening. “Before Marcus. I think I held him when he cried and told him it

1/4

13:35 Wed, Sep 3 C

Chapter 125

was okay, and it was. He might be my brother.”

93%

Macey shifted closer until her forehead touched my shoulder. “Do we like him?” she asked

the blanket.

“I hope so.” The hoping tugged something sharp and soft inside my ribs. “I don’t know him enough to miss him. But my body remembers him and gets sad about it.”

“Okay,” she said, decisive and drowsy at the same time. “If we find him and he’s nice, I

will share Fergus.” A pause, enormous sacrifice measured. “Sometimes.”

“Sometimes is generous,” I said solemnly.

“If he’s mean,” she added, practical as a judge, “he doesn’t get Nana cake. House rule.”

I snorted and tried to turn it into a cough. “Practice cake is excellent policy.”

Something in me stopped trying to be in two places at once. I rolled onto my side so I could face her and still look up at the sky. Over us, the comet blinked like it was taking notes. The music turned down a notch. I slid my free hand to the wall and fed the ward a little breath the way Levi and Envy taught me, blanket, not flare. The room purred. Got him, it said. Sleep, small.

“Be kind or be far,” I told the dark, not loud, not scared. I put it next to the other rule and

13:35 Wed, Sep 3

they didn’t fight. Macey’s grip loosened as sleep pulled her under. I kept holding anyway, because sometimes the job is to be the person who stays awake long enough to make sure the small person doesn’t drift away. Layah inched higher until her back pressed against my feet and pretended she meant to all along.

“Hey,” I whispered after a while, in case the universe was still taking requests. “If the little boy is real, and he’s mine, let him be the kind who says it’s okay and makes it true.”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify