The expected vision came, showing unexpected things. Mae saw what was happening with the salon and what she had to do. When the vision ended, and she returned to her senses in the bedroom, she discovered two things. One was that only an hour had passed. The other was that she had a mark left on her skin from where she’d cut it. Before, the wound had always healed by the time the vision ended. It still didn’t look fresh now by any means—more like it had happened a couple of days ago—but she was startled to see any residual mark at all. A voice sounded in her head: You can’t keep asking for much without giving a little.
Mae had no time to ponder that, though. Not after what she’d seen. Time was more critical than she’d realized. Wait for me, Justin had said.
But as Mae began stripping off her Arcadian dress, the unfortunate reality hit her. “I can’t,” she said aloud. “I can’t.”
CHAPTER 18
Odin’s Priest Earns His Keep
Justin knew he looked good. The mirror and Mae had told him as much. Did he feel good? That was a different matter. He could’ve easily slept another six hours, and he had a feeling he might more than double that once the current Exerzol high wore off. As long as he could get through this upcoming meeting, though, it would all be worth it.
You could’ve warned me about the aftereffects, he told Magnus, as the temple car drove into the city. Or maybe that soul severing part.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done that for a priest, explained the raven. I knew there’d be some consequences but didn’t think it’d be this bad. But you’ve recovered nicely, and next time, we’ll make sure you’re better prepared.
Justin didn’t appreciate the assumption. No one said there’ll be a next time.
Won’t there? asked Magnus. Don’t you want to feel that communion with Odin? Not that you need me for it. If you embrace your calling, you’ll find maintaining that connection on a daily basis is easy.
Justin wasn’t sure if he wanted that either. Yes, he could freely admit that it had been pretty thrilling, but as he’d learned from his lifetime of substance abuse, a high wasn’t always worth what you paid for it. The potential to lose control was too great. He’d discovered that with drugs on more than one occasion and wasn’t sure he could win if he tried it with a god. The hypocrisy of having warned Mae away from such things wasn’t lost on him either.
And then there was Mae herself.
For a sweet moment, the weight of human and godly concerns lifted from Justin, and he was left only with the memory of that kiss. What in the world had brought that about? Concern for his safety? Gratitude for his help with her niece, help he still really wasn’t sure how to give? There’d been no question the feel of her lips made his blood burn and hands long to touch her . . . but that parting kiss had been about so much more than just sex and desire. What that more was remained to be seen.
“Because my life needs one more complication,” he muttered. “Excuse me?” the driver called back.
“Nothing,” said Justin.
Hansen met him at the temple steps again, and even Justin was proud of the poker face worn by the young priest. Hansen gave no sign that the two had any connection outside of this escort service. In fact, the young Arcadian did a good job of looking as though this were just another irritating errand. He brought Justin back to the Grand Disciple’s apartments and then left with a bow when dismissed.
The Grand Disciple was decked out in his bejeweled regalia once more, which he apparently needed to convey power when dealing with underlings and diplomats, rather than young girls brought to him without choice. He had a chilled decanter of white wine that Justin actually found nauseating after his recent malaise, but etiquette and keeping up with this farce required a good show. He’d sworn he’d be in perfect health tonight and didn’t want word getting back to Hansen of any weakness.
“I trust you’re feeling better?” asked the Grand Disciple. “I was so distressed to hear you’d taken ill. I said many prayers for you.”
“Thank you.” Justin made himself comfortable on the love seat and accepted a glass of wine. “I think I’ve just overindulged in too much food while I’ve been here. I don’t get this kind of cooking at home. In fact, I usually skip meals.”
“That’s half your problem. We never do that—in fact, our dinner should be here in an hour. You Gemmans don’t marry nearly as much as you should. I’m sure you wouldn’t skip meals if you had a wife to take care of your needs,” said the priest.
“I have a sister who tries to,” Justin said. “One who gives me plenty of grief when I slack off.”
The Grand Disciple arched an eyebrow at that, probably because no Arcadian woman gave any Arcadian man grief about anything. “Well, just so long as you’re feeling better. I feared we wouldn’t have a chance to discuss my proposition before you left.”
Justin took what he hoped was a polite sip and set the glass down. “Well, you’re in luck. I’ve actually talked to my people about it, and they’re in favor of it—with some modifications.”
“Oh?” asked the Grand Disciple, not sounding entirely surprised. Justin could imagine he was expecting all sorts of restrictions, so what came next was undoubtedly astonishing.
“You see,” Justin began, “I don’t know how much you know about our media or politics, but image is everything over there—especially to guys like Lucian. Senator Darling. He’s up for election, you see, and this trip is going to go a long way to help his image, showing how proactive he is about peace between our countries. And while a trade negotiation or promise of a future reciprocal trip would look good, it’s not going to have the impact of immediate action that Lucian wants. He’s got his heart set on a big impression, and he wants us to return later this week with something that’ll make people stop and stare. He wants us to come back with Arcadians.”
The lies came easily, and if it all worked out, Justin hoped he’d be able to sound just as convincing to Lucian.
“This week?” asked the Grand Disciple.
Justin nodded. “He’s afraid if we leave with only verbal promises of something, then someone will get cold feet later. But if we can come back with a delegation, your people ready to share with ours, just as we’ve shared with you . . . well, he thinks it’s going to seal the election. That’s what he’s got his heart set on, even though I told him that’s probably not enough time for you to get together the kind of scholars you wanted to have come teach us about your culture.”
The idea had come to Justin after talking to Hansen. If they were going to catch a potential Arcadian plot, then time was of the essence. Justin didn’t want to leave things hanging with promises of a visit that might go awry. He didn’t want to leave enough time for Hansen to change his mind—or get caught. From what Justin understood, the defector-trained hackers were already selected and ready. It would just be a question if the Grand Disciple was ready to let them go sooner than expected in order to aid Lucian’s alleged dreams of power.