I frowned in confusion. “What did you do to me?”

“Removed your gorgon curse, but left you with its power.”

Stunned, I sat back on my heels, shaking. “Why would you do that?” Why would she leave a god-killer in existence?

“Because even the gods need checks and balances. And we might have need of you when the Blood Wars come.”

I blew out a heavy breath, the reality setting in. Truly, unbelievably setting in. I was free. It was over. And I still had power to protect myself and those I loved. I glanced at Sebastian and he joined me with a deep, happy smile, one that made me laugh as he reached down and helped me up, enveloping me in his arms. I held on tight, still reeling. “It’s gone,” I said against his neck. “The monster is gone.”

Over his shoulder, my father smiled broadly, some of the deep sadness that always lurked in his eyes gone. I hugged him, too. He squeezed me hard. “Your mother would be so proud of you. I am proud of you.”

“Great. The girl’s going to be more insufferable than ever,” Menai commented, amusement in her eyes. I shot her the middle finger. She laughed and shot one right back.

Apollo returned as Bran, Michel, and my father began discussing the state of things beyond the cathedral walls. Artemis handed Apollo the child. He looked panicked for a moment, but then his face transformed, going soft, a smile tugging his lips apart as he walked off, cooing. Seeing a big, powerful Greek god taken with a tiny baby made me smile.

Horus and Artemis moved to the back wall to talk in private.

“So what’s that all about?” I asked Menai.

She observed her mother and Horus. It struck me then that Menai was a full-blown goddess. She had two heavyweights for parents. “He’s livid with her for staying with Athena. For rejecting him and choosing her over him.”

“Why did she?” Henri asked.

Menai shrugged. “When my mother became pregnant with me, she knew Athena would go mad with the hurt of seeing me around every day. Even though I was born seven hundred years after her child, my mother was afraid for me. She wanted to withdraw from the temple, to go with my father, but Athena begged her to stay, to let them raise me together, to help heal the loss of her own child through me. I think it got pretty intense, like dangerous, for my mother and me. So she promised Athena she’d stay. Athena wanted proof of her promise, so my mother confided in Athena the secret name my father gave me when I was born—it’s an Egyptian thing. But it holds a lot of power over that person.”

“So the hold over Artemis was you.”

Menai nodded. “It didn’t help that Athena hated my father—he was one of a few gods she hadn’t been able to overthrow during the War of the Pantheons. And my father was so pissed he couldn’t stand it. Apparently, he wanted to punish my mother for even considering staying with Athena, so he removed himself not only from our life, but from the world. A rash decision I’m sure he regrets. He’ll want her now. There’s nothing in their way anymore.”

“Will she go?”

“I don’t know. She loves him. She’s loved him all this time.”

Menai watched her parents, lost in her thoughts. Sebastian had gone over to talk with his father. Michel glanced at the baby Bran was now holding, disbelief passing through his eyes. Now he knew. The child was half Arnaud. Part of Sebastian’s family. Fated to start the Blood Wars.

Artemis shouted, “Fine!” drawing my attention.

Horus’s hands were on his hips, and he appeared as angry and frustrated as Artemis was. “Fine!” he shot back.

They marched back to Menai. “We’re going to be a family,” she said, angry. “Half the year on Olympus, half in Egypt.”

“What about me?” Menai asked, and from her tone, I realized that she thought they were leaving her.

Horus frowned. “What about you? You’re coming with us whether you like it or not. We have a couple hundred years to make up for.” He rubbed his shoulder where she’d shot him. “And we’ll need to talk about some ground rules.”

Menai swallowed, but I saw the flash of surprise in her eyes. But she was her mother’s daughter, and her eyebrow cocked in challenge. “I want him to come visit me without you giving him a hard time,” she said, gesturing to a very astonished Henri.

Artemis suppressed a grin as Horus’s face paled and went a little confounded—he was in territory he probably hadn’t been in for a very long time. His gaze narrowed on Henri. “We’ll take a flight sometime, you and I, to lay some ground rules of our own, eh?”

Henri swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“That leaves us with the child,” Apollo said. “As much as I like the little thing, I’m not babysitting for six months while you’re in Egypt.”

“You won’t have to,” Artemis said. “We’ll take Archer with us.”

“Or you can leave him here while you’re gone,” Sebastian suggested. “He’s my family too, unless I’m wrong.”

“No,” Artemis admitted. “You’re not wrong.” She exchanged a glance with Apollo. Obviously the thought that Archer’s other family might want to be a part of his life had never had occurred to them. But Sebastian had a claim.

“He should be raised by both families,” Sebastian said. “You and Apollo for six months in Olympus, and us for six months here.”

“Is that good for a kid, though?” I asked. “To go from one family to another like that?”

“If that’s how he’s raised,” Michel said. “If that’s all he ever knows. If both families give him a good home, work together—visiting, communicating—we can, quite possibly, change his fate. Change the outcome of the Blood Wars. Or stop them from even starting.”

“The Blood Wars are coming regardless,” Apollo said. “I have seen it. But . . . I think you’re right. We raise him, give him a true and loyal family. And when the wars come, that loyalty will be returned. Archer will fight with us, alongside the gods.”

“When are the wars coming?” Dub asked, fear in his tone.

“There’s time enough for us to raise the child. But in that time, we must begin the search for those gods Athena imprisoned and free them. Our numbers have dwindled, thanks to the war she waged. We’ll need every god we can find to fight the threat I’ve seen coming.”

The gods began talking about all the changes that would have to be made in their pantheon. They spoke of opening the way for us to travel freely into their realm in order to be part of Archer’s life. When all was said and done, they’d worked out a schedule. Archer would go to Olympus with Apollo, Artemis, Horus, and Menai for six months. Sebastian, Michel, and the rest of us would be able to visit as we pleased, to form a relationship so that when the baby was in our world the following six months, he would be content with his caretakers.

Sebastian was sincere in his desire to be part of the baby’s life, and it made me see him in a new way. He’d only had his father and Josephine, but now the baby provided a direct Arnaud link to his mother’s side of the family. It was a link I was certain he wanted to strengthen. Sebastian wanted roots just like I did. I glanced at my father and the kids. It seemed like we were both getting our wish.

After the gods departed with little Archer, we left the cathedral.

I steeled myself for what I knew would greet me. But still the sight brought a deep well of sadness. The once beautiful square was littered with the dead and dying. Buildings were destroyed, some still burning. We stayed on the steps outside, just taking in the devastation. Violet slipped her hand in mine. I smiled down at her and squeezed, so grateful she was okay. Sebastian’s arm brushed against mine.

“What now?” Dub asked.

“First we need to fix our little tourist problem,” Bran answered. “Can’t have them going past The Rim with tales of gods and monsters.”

“Most of them have been gathered at the hospital and other safe locations,” Rowen said. “The witches will take care of it. By the time they’re done, the tourists won’t remember anything but a crazy Mardi Gras party and a bad hangover.”

“Thank God for New 2 and Mardi Gras,” Henri commented, “where most anything can be explained.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

“We’ll rebuild,” Sebastian said. “We’ll add schools and health care and shelters for those outside the Quarter. It’s time we started caring about more than just the rich Novem families and take care of everyone in New 2.”

Michel lifted a brow, pride shining in his gray eyes. “It’ll take some work, son, but we can make it happen.”

“The Novem, as it was, is too fractured to repair,” Bran added. “We’ll have to start over, a new council, a new approach. . . . ”

Bran, Rowen, and Michel exchanged looks, then fixed their attention on Sebastian. “You in?” Bran asked him.

Sebastian blinked in surprise. He’d fought against his birthright, against being an heir, against being a part of the Novem organization. But now . . . now things were different, and would be different. And I could see he knew it too. Everything he had been through . . . it all had given him a unique viewpoint. He wasn’t stuck in his entitlement, his wealth, his family connections, and his power as some of the Novem heirs had been. Being a part of a new council with a new way to run the city in which everyone was taken care of . . . I thought he’d be perfect for the task.

I gave him an encouraging grin. He answered them while keeping his gaze on me, his smile going lopsided. “Yeah. I’m in.”

TWENTY-FIVE

FOUR DAYS LATER WE MOVED into the massive Victorian mansion on Coliseum Street, with its tall peaks and lacy iron-and-wood scrollwork. There was a ballroom. A ballroom. Violet was already talking about planning the biggest masquerade party New 2 had ever seen.

Granted, the place needed a lot of TLC. The house hadn’t been occupied in fifteen years, but I loved the grand foyer, the marble mantels and ornate plaster. Violet had good taste in homes, I’d give her that. There was even a lagoon-style pool in the back that was filled with green algae and years of brackish water and leaves. Pascal was in heaven.