in to check on you.” I needed a moment to express my concerns, and somehow, some way, Cyrus had become my confidant. Maybe it was the sexual tension that kept creeping up between us. Or maybe it was as he said before: he was the closest thing I had to a friend.
My sister nodded. “Kay, Fay!” She toddled off, hopefully not to get into too much trouble.
“From bartender to babysitter,” I said with a sigh. “Where did I go wrong?”
“I think it’s more: ‘where did you go right?’ ” Cyrus said. “You’re being a hero. I think this has been good for you, Fantazia, getting back in touch with society again. Doing what you can to help the EHJ. Hanging around me.”
I glanced up at him and saw he was watching me with a warm glint in his eyes. Unbidden, my mind went back to that hot kiss we’d shared and my stomach flipped. He wasn’t the usual kind of guy I flirted with, and maybe that was why wanting to kiss him led me into dangerous territory: the attraction wasn’t just my simple need for male attention but was something different, something deeper.
I eyed him. “You’re a good influence now, Cyrus?”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I think the EHJ are good influences, when they’re not bickering amongst themselves. I’d go as far as to say that they’ve made you better. You’ve become much more . . . I don’t know, real, since all of this started. When I first started coming to your place, you were more like some mythical goddess than a human being.”
I chuckled without humor. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
He smiled at that. “A tricky goddess. But since all of this started, you’ve gradually come down from your pedestal. Got back in touch with us mere mortals. Made friends that you aren’t trying to use, friends you’re actually trying to help save the world. It’s surprisingly noble.” He moved a bit closer to me, his voice lowering into a more intimate growl. “And, more importantly to me . . . you’re more real now. Even if I happen to know you’ve got some pretty impossible powers.”
“I-I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” I said. I never liked feeling vulnerable, and that’s how I was feeling now, although with a healthy bit of lust, too.
“Trust me, it is a good thing,” he said, meeting my eyes.
Uncomfortable with whatever passed between us in that moment, I looked down and said, “Is this what happened to you, too? You, who used to take what you could get in whatever way you could get it? You’re fighting for the same noble cause. Do you remember how that happened, exactly?”
He shrugged lazily, staying near me. “What can I say? I drank the Kool-Aid. Becoming a part of something like this, a group that’s not just a team but also friends and family who come together to fight for something better, even when it’s not in their personal interests and will probably get them killed . . . It’s made me happier, like I think it’ll make you happier. And—God, I hate to say this, but you’re right: I do like playing hero in the hopes that Sabrina will see me and somehow know. I . . . I want her to someday be proud of her dad instead of sickened.”
I was surprised he shared that with me, since I had sort of come down on him last time we talked about it. Tearing him down was the last thing I wanted, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know that yet. I also wasn’t ready to drink his Kool-Aid.
I took a deep breath and admitted, “I don’t know how much happier I’ll be, feeling like I have a responsibility to these people. Hell, I already feel that way.”
He grinned. “Thinking of joining the club?”
“No,” I said. “I’m just starting to realize that I need to keep a watchful eye on this team, because eventually this will all go pear-shaped.”
He laughed without humor. “You’re an incurable optimist.”
I shook my head, fixing him with a serious glint in my brown eyes. “I’m a realist. And I’ve been around long enough to know how this will all turn out. Everything’s fine and dandy, and it will be . . . until something goes horribly wrong. Then, even the closest of friends turn on each other. Why do I want to sign on for