Unmade (Unborn #4) - Amber Lynn Natusch Page 0,30

gave nothing away.

“Remember what I just told you,” I said to Hermes as I backed away enough to allow Muses to work. “Artemis’ death was horrid and painful, as is her soul’s incarceration, and unless I see fit to set her free in the Oudeis, that is where she will stay. Perhaps that would not be an improvement, though…”

“Do what you must,” he replied, staring at Muses as my brother grinned at him.

“Oh, I will.”

Without further ado, Muses clamped his hands down on Hermes’ face and closed his eyes. Oz and I looked on, silently hoping that his effort would not be in vain; that Dionysus was somehow special in his ability to thwart the power of the PC warrior. But as the seconds ticked by, and the sweat on my brother’s brow grew thick and streamed down his face, I knew the truth.

The god’s mind could not be penetrated.

Hermes’ crazed laughter rang out through the alley. “Is that why you summoned me? To try to hold my mind?” The looks on our faces only fueled his amusement. “Stupid girl,” he said, looking at me. “The minds of the dead cannot be held—or the once dead, as the case may be.”

“This is why you do not fear the fear god,” I said, putting the pieces of the twisted puzzle together, “and why Hecate had few concerns. He could not use you, or those she ruled, against her.”

Hermes shrugged. “As I said before, she did not tell me why, though your theory holds weight. Now, if we are quite finished with your nonsense—”

“Where will you go if I allow it, I wonder,” I said, stepping closer. “Do you hide with the others? Does Demeter ally herself with her risen brothers and sisters?”

“Do you plan to kill me or release me?” Hermes asked.

I stared at him for a moment. “I have not decided yet. Tell me where they are, and I will let you live.”

“On the move. I will not know where unless they call for my aid.”

“Or unless I order you to bring them a message,” I countered.

He scowled. “Yes. That, too.”

“They do not trust you…”

“The gods trust no one. Now, either give me a message so that I may leave, or kill me. I tire of your arrogance.”

“You want a message?” I asked, the challenge clear in my tone. “Perhaps I will send you to tell the others that I am coming for them. That I shall own their souls as I own Artemis’.” Hermes’ eyes narrowed in anger. “But I think I have a better plan for now.”

I could feel the weight of Oz’s and Muses’ stares on my back as they awaited my move. It was only when Hermes confirmed that he could find the other gods if I sent a message to them that I realized I could use that very tactic to track down my mother—and possibly Phobos, if and when the time came to face him. But the former was of the greatest importance, especially given the latter’s desire to find me himself.

My mother might not be in a position to do so.

“Find my mother—Celia of the Light. Then tell her to send a message to me with her location.”

The messenger god’s annoyance was palpable. Without another word, he took to the skies and disappeared into the clouds above. Once I was certain he was gone, I headed for the entrance to the sewer.

I did not make it far before Oz caught my arm.

“Was that wise?” he asked. The set of his features told me he did not think it was.

“We need to find her if she is in danger. He seemed the quickest way to do this.”

“And if he alerts others to her location once he finds her—others who would kill her to get to you?”

“That is a risk we face with or without Hermes’ involvement.”

“Khara was right to do it,” Muses added, much to Oz’s dismay. “The longer Celia is missing—if she’s missing at all—the worse the potential outcome.”

“And if he can’t find her?” Oz countered. I pulled away from him, not wanting to admit aloud what I knew to be true, but Oz, as always, would have none of my evasions. He followed me as I made my way to the manhole cover, his looming presence threatening. “New girl…”

“If he cannot find her, it means one of two things. The first is that she is in a place where he cannot travel, such as the Hallowed Gates or the in-between.”

“What’s the second?”

I