Unmade (Unborn #4) - Amber Lynn Natusch Page 0,29

hours, but yes, it seems as though we are being manipulated.”

I turned to Oz, expecting an angry outburst of some sort or another, but one never came. Perhaps his mind was too cluttered with things to say and could not settle on the perfect one; or perhaps he was contemplating all the ways he could lock me in the Dragon’s lair until he knew it was safe to set me free. He had threatened as much once before. I had little doubt he would try if it suited his mission to keep me safe at any cost.

“Well I, for one, really needed that jaunt through Detroit’s underbelly,” Muses said, inspecting his black leather for any sign of dirt or other questionable matter, “but since we’re up here, were we or were we not going to summon Hermes so that I could attempt to inspire him?”

“Yes,” I replied, unable to look away from Oz’s blazing eyes. “Casey, if you would be so kind.” I extended my hand toward him, a request for his blade. “I seem to have used my daggers this evening already.”

Casey looked to Oz, then back to me. “Take two. Seems like you might need an extra sometime soon.”

I took both weapons offered and sheathed one before slicing the other through my palm. Dipping a finger in the blood, I scrawled the messenger god’s name on the wall next to the crack Kierson had created. Then I called him forth, as I had once before. The others all looked at me expectantly.

“Now, we wait.”

“The rest of you should go back,” Oz said. “It’ll look suspicious with so many of us here, and Hermes isn’t to be trusted.”

The Dragon led the way back down into the sewer with the twins and Drew behind him. Casey reluctantly followed, leaving Oz, Muses, and me to deal with the former god whenever he showed himself. Not long after the manhole cover settled into place and a blast of magic sealed it shut, Hermes appeared in the abandoned alley, looking at us with a strange mixture of shock and anger.

“You are surprised to see us, I imagine,” I said, striding toward the messenger god, flanked by Oz and Muses. “I am afraid I have bad news to share—Hecate is dead.”

Rage flashed in his glare but he remained where he was, a victim of his own nature—the power that made him a god. Until he fulfilled the duty for which he had been summoned, he could not leave.

“You bitch—”

“Ah, ah,” Oz cautioned, feigning calm, but coiled with anger, like a snake ready to strike. “I’d keep the name-calling to a minimum, or you’ll be next.”

“You need me, or I would not be here,” Hermes countered. “Tell me what you must so I can be gone.”

I stood before him and snatched his chin in my hand. “You will be gone if I choose to allow it. You endeavored to usurp my father and contain me in the Oudeis. These are affronts you do not get to walk away from—not unless it is my wish for you to do so.”

He yanked his face from my hold and growled. “It was Hecate’s plan and I agreed to it, nothing more.”

“And did you work with the god of fear as well? Or was that just your dead lover?”

At that, he frowned. “The latter. I warned her against such recklessness, but she would not hear it. She was blinded by her desire to rule the Underworld with me at her side.”

“And you were happy to not return to the Oudeis, so you went along with it,” Oz added.

Hermes nodded. “You would have done the same.”

Oz did not refute his claim.

“Hecate was a fool to think that she could have gotten away with double-crossing the fear god. He would have come for her—somehow.”

“Yes, he would,” Hermes replied, “but Hecate was confident he couldn’t—that we would be insulated from his wrath in the Underworld, though she never said why.”

“I shall be the judge of that,” Muses said, stepping forward.

Hermes made a move to leave, but I clamped down on his shoulders as my wings shot wide, a menacing wall of black behind me. He stared at them with irritation.

“Those are courtesy of Artemis’ soul,” I said, leaning closer. “If you do not behave, perhaps I will add yours to my collection.”

Muses let loose a laugh as he pushed past my black appendage. “I see the attraction, Oz. She’s perfect for you.”

I looked back over my wing at Oz, but his expression