“Uh, maybe we don’t talk shit about the Fates right now. You know, all things considered.”
Hades’s little dog yipped in agreement from the other side of the now ever-present portal to the underworld. “The boss man is right. The Mother is no joke, but neither are her sisters. This is not the time to get on their bad side. They might start cutting threads for funsies.”
Kingston blanched. “They do that?”
“Don’t get him started,” Moira warned. “Anyway, I’d love to have a vision about this and get to choose when it happens, but that’s just not what happens. It would be so much more convenient if it was.”
“Something has to trigger it,” Hades mused. “Visions don’t occur at random. They always serve a purpose.”
I looked from him to Moira. “What was going on right before you had the vision?”
Moira made a face and shrugged. “I have no idea. I was sort of in the middle of things myself.”
“Right...” I muttered, trying to recall the exact sequence of events. So much had happened since then, it was like trying to wade through silly putty.
“Sunday asked out loud about attuning the blade,” Asher offered, proving once again that he was always paying attention.There was a reason he’d been the de facto leader of the resistance since the beginning.
“Isn’t that what I did?” Sin asked.
Asher shrugged. “Maybe it has to be Sunday specifically, since she and Moira are the closest?”
Sunday flinched under the collective gaze of the others. Clearing her throat, she gave it a try. “How do we attune the blade?”
Nothing.
The disappointment in the room was palpable.
“Wait!” Sunday said. “I touched it. I touched the blade right after.”
She rushed to the table, reaching out and placing her hand on the dirty guillotine blade.
Again, nothing.
“Loki’s mighty ball sac,” Alek grumbled.
“Oh my God, you guys,” Remi said, smacking himself on the forehead. “It’s so obvious. It worked when Sunday touched the War weapon because she’s tied to it.”
Sin narrowed his eyes. “Uh, hello. I amliterallyFamine. Couldn’t be more tied to this one.”
“No, well, I mean yes, but no. Sunday is War’s daughter. So by that logic, this time it should be?—”
“Me.”
Eyes on me, every person in the room waited as I walked toward the weapon. I reached out and pressed my palm to the blade, waiting for a burning sensation or to be knocked back by the power, but I felt nothing out of the ordinary.
Moira, on the other hand, looked to be feeling a whole lot of things all at once.
“It’s happening!” Remi shouted. “Somebody get ready to catch her.”
“On it. Go ahead and trust fall, I’ve got you.” Kingston was a wolf of his word, and her tiny body slumped against his effortlessly.
What felt like an eternity later, Moira blinked and shook her head as she came back to herself. “Fuck, that’s always a rush. Who needs cocaine when you’ve got the Sight?”
“Well, Miss Belladonna, what do you have for us?” Caleb asked.
She righted herself with Kingston’s help, then cleared her throat. “The blade has to be washed in the blood of a billionaire. But not just any rich asshole. One who has reformed and promised not to let greed control their heart.”
“Well, we’re fucked,” Remi said, throwing his hands in the air. “Everyone knows billionaires are basically the most corrupt, selfish motherfuckers of all time.”