Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,30

step backward, and even Emma looked just a touch less sure of herself. She glanced quickly down at his hand, and I knew she was wondering if she’d pushed him too far, if he was actually pissed off enough to use his Hand of Doom against her. Not that she knew what that hand could do if Anderson set his mind to it. Anderson took a step closer to Emma, his hand rising from his side. Her breathing quickened, but she held her ground.

“Do you want to go to war against all of the Olympians?” she asked. “Because if you hurt me, it will break your treaty with Cyrus, and he will destroy you and all of your people. Except for Nikki, of course.” She smiled her malicious smile again. “We’d have other uses for your new girlfriend.”

Even in the midst of the crisis, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. Emma was descended from Nyx, the goddess of night, but if there was a goddess of jealousy—and I was sure there was, even if I couldn’t name her off the top of my head—I would swear Emma was at least her kissing cousin.

Anderson looked like he was about to choke on his rage. He was a god of vengeance, and it had to be killing him to restrain his need to strike out. I think everyone in the house was damn lucky he was rational enough to care about the consequences of unleashing his inner Fury. “I will not start a war,” he said in a low and dangerous voice. “You and your companion may leave this house unscathed. I was a fool not to see this coming and move Erin to a new location.”

It took everything I had not to burst out with something scathingly unwise. Even after all the crap Emma had pulled, Anderson was still willing to take some of the blame and put it on his own shoulders.

“But I warn you, Emma,” Anderson continued, letting more of his anger creep into his voice, “you had better not try me again. I am better at vengeance than you are, and you would not be the first ex-wife to learn that the hard way.”

Being the son of a Fury, Anderson most definitely was an expert in the vengeance business. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to mess with him. Emma was crazy, but only if she was stupid and crazy would she take another shot at Anderson after this warning. There was a sense of . . . portentousness in the air, like Anderson’s words might be more than just words. But maybe that was just my imagination running away with me because of what I knew about him.

Emma had lost her gloating smile, and I think that under her calm facade, she was actually afraid of Anderson for the first time. I know Christina was afraid, because her face was ghostly pale and her eyes too wide. I bet she’d have run screaming out the door if Anderson had said boo.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Emma said, and I think she actually believed it. “I haven’t broken the treaty, and it was your own fault Erin was vulnerable.”

“Get out. Now.”

I think Emma would have liked to have hung around and looked for more chances to gloat. This was probably the end of her revenge—Cyrus was right, and I couldn’t see her settling for burning down empty houses when she had this rabbit already in her hat—and she wanted to savor it. But she also knew when Anderson had been pushed as far as it was safe to push him, and that was the case now.

“Well, it was lovely seeing you both again,” Emma said, then turned her back on Anderson and walked with affected nonchalance toward the door. Christina, who truly had been there as nothing but a prop for Emma’s revenge, was in such a hurry to get out she practically bowled Emma over on the way.

The door closed behind them, and seconds later the car revved its engine and pulled away. Leaving me alone in the foyer with an enraged god of death and vengeance who might be on the verge of exploding.

EIGHT

I was afraid to move. Afraid to even breathe. I felt like I was standing on a land mine, and one false step would blow me to smithereens. Should I try to say something sympathetic and comforting to Anderson? Should I apologize for my role in Emma’s revenge, even while refusing to accept any