Broken God by Nazarea Andrews Read Free Book Online Page B

a
silent snarl at him and Hermes grins. “You can’t run from this, cousin. It’s
happening, and we need to know what Del said.”
    Tiger kitten, furious girl, fallen gods. Death. Death. Death.
Broken god and shattered power and death .
    She saw us die.
    She saw Olympus
fall.
    I gave Del my gift
and she took it, knowing the price, because she loved me. And I destroyed her.
    “I won’t talk about
it,” I say, simply. It has been ages. Empires have risen and fallen and still I
can see her, coiled in my arms, shaking and sobbing as she spoke, and the
prophecy filled that fucking temple.
    I demanded it and
it destroyed her and I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able
to accept that and speak of it with the lightness that is needed to address
such a monumental thing.
    I stare into the
sky and feel my cousin shift behind me.
    “Come on, Apollo.
Take me to your home. We don’t have to speak of it, today.”

 

 
    Chapter 8 .
     
    I keep going back.
I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t help it. Every day, when Hermes wanders away to
play messenger for my uncle and flirt with my sister, I wander back to the
little coffee shop and watch the girl with Del’s eyes and a wide , laughing smile.
And she knows. She smirks when I enter, sometimes hidden behind a veil of red - gold hair,
sometimes leaning against the counter, that pert ass of hers presented like a
fucking invitation. Sometimes, she’s strumming her guitar.
    Once, I came in and
she was crying.
    I want to go to
her, but the girl behind the counter gives me a fierce glare, and I take my
coffee to the corner table, watching Iris as I play with the cards.
    I don’t like my
girl crying.
    She’s not my girl.
    I forget that, if
I’m not careful.
    I hate being
careful.
    I hate not taking
what I want.
    I hate that Del’s
voice is a constant whisper in the back of my mind,
    Telling me all the
ways I will die, all the ways I will kill my family.
    I am the god of
prophecy, and I know the truth when I hear it spoken.
    It’s what I’ve been
running from for so many centuries.

 
    “So you were here
for my breakdown.”
    It’s three days
after I walked in on Iris sobbing, and the first time I’ve been back to the
coffee shop.
    I wasn’t ready for
just how much I wanted her and how much it would shake me, to not take what I
wanted. So I stayed away, hiding in the concert halls and practice rooms at the
local universities, drinking down the music that they produced.
    I blink at her, and
she smiles. “Sorry you had to see that.”
    “Tears aren’t a
weakness,” I say, softly. Staring into my coffee instead of her eyes.
    “They aren’t.” she
agrees, readily. “ But
they can make the people around me uncomfortable. And I prefer to avoid that if
I can.”
    I do look at her
then. There’s a quiet intensity to her that startles me.
    “You, however,
don’t seem like you rattle easy. You seem to like being uncomfortable.”
    I shrug. “I’ve
always been a little different. The ones who don’t mind stick around.”
    She makes a low hum
in her throat, and her head tilts, just a little. “And me? If I didn’t mind.
Would you let me stick around?”
    Yes
    “I am not good for
you, Iris,” I say softly. Unwilling.
    She hesitates and
then, “I’m not asking for marriage, here. I’m asking for a name and a cup of
coffee. And maybe we’ll like each other. Maybe we’ll want to see what happens
after that. Maybe I’ll think you’re a dick and ask Lily to kick you out.”
    I laugh at that and
Iris grins at me, her eyes sparkling with humor and the invitation I haven’t
seen in a mortal’s gaze since Del.
    “One cup of
coffee,” I say, and she brightens, bouncing in her seat.
    “Lil!” she almost
screams, and the girl behind the counter grumbles to herself, but sets about making
coffee .
    Iris studies me.
“So …”
    I stare at her.
    For a long time, I
tried using other names. Apollo wasn’t exactly common, and as