Unmade (Unborn #4) - Amber Lynn Natusch Page 0,19

Pierson. “Perhaps multiple enemies sought you out at the same time.”

“That seems possible,” Sean mused.

“Maybe,” Oz said, “but why would the fear god bother to burn it down? He doesn’t give a fuck about covering his tracks.”

“You think someone else could have done it?” Sean asked. His ability to set aside his ongoing war with Oz to settle this matter was admirable, and it made me question why Ares no longer wanted him in control of the PC. That level of diplomacy was all but impossible to find. I was not certain I still possessed it.

My emotions were proving to be fickle, uncontrollable things.

“I’m saying that the possibility can’t be ruled out.”

“Then perhaps we should return there and investigate further,” I said. “Admittedly, I was not in the most rational state of mind while rummaging through the debris. It is likely I missed much in the search for my brothers.”

Drew, Pierson, Kierson, and Casey all looked at me with a sadness I could not at first understand. Then I realized what it was—sympathy. Perhaps even empathy. They understood on some level what it was like to search for their fallen. To find a corpse where a living being had once been. They did not wish that pain for me.

“The Dark Ones will surely be keeping an eye on the site in case you should return,” Muses said. Though I was loath to admit it, his words had merit.

“Then I will go,” Sean said, heading toward Trey. “They cannot kill the invincible.”

“No,” I said, rising to stop him, “but they can torture you. Oz can attest to that.”

The Dark One merely shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“As have I,” Sean countered.

“I am coming with you.” I stopped before him to find darkening green eyes staring back at me. “The concept of torture is not new to me, either, and I am a weapon to be used against them. That is how Oz was freed. I will gladly do it again. Threats to those I care for work quite well to fuel my gifts.”

I could feel Oz’s eyes on me in the wake of what I had said, but I did not look his way. Then he came to stand next to me. “I shouldn’t have to say that I’m going, too, but…” The tension between Sean and him grew with their proximity, but neither gave into it.

The tension between Oz and me grew as well, though in an entirely different way.

“We’re all fucking going,” Casey growled.

“We will need to find another home base in Detroit to fortify and ward,” Pierson pointed out.

“Against the Dark and the Light and the former gods this time,” Oz said with a snarl. “Try not to leave anyone out.”

“Then be sure not to forget Ares,” I added.

Suspicious eyes fell upon me.

“That goes without saying,” Casey replied, “which makes me wonder why you’re saying it.”

“I thought we were all good with that,” Oz said, looking down at me as though we were alone and not surrounded by PC warriors.

“How could you be good with that?” Kierson asked.

I squared to face them all. “Because I have learned that Ares already knows of my existence. He has for longer than any of us would likely believe.” A hush fell upon the room before questions filled the silence. I ignored them all, waiting for a moment to further fan the flames of discord I had just sparked. “And that was confirmed when I encountered him on my way to extract you all from the Underworld before Kaine and the others could arrive.”

That same quiet swooped in, silencing the cacophony for a moment before Oz’s anger broke it.

“What did you say?” he asked, voice so low and menacing that I wondered if another war was about to break out. One between him and me and all my brothers.

“Ares stood by the gates, as if waiting for me. He warned me of Deimos’ brother—of his intentions for me.” When Oz did not move, I continued. “He said he knew of a way to kill him.”

For a price—one I was unwilling to share with the others.

“Ares is never to be trusted,” Sean said.

“And I do not,” I replied, “but it is clear that he wishes the same outcome we do—the demise of his crazed son.”

“You and I are going to have a little discussion about full disclosure when we’re done at the Victorian,” Oz said, his brown eyes boring holes through mine.

“She doesn’t answer to you,” Sean growled.

“I think you might find that she does.”

“As