Page 135
Story: Till Death and Daisies Bloom
"Twelve centuries, maybe," Pride corrected, settling onto a nearby bench with his usual precision.
"Speak for yourself, ancient one," Envy retorted. "Some of us are barely pushing a millennium."
"Children," Sloth sighed dramatically. "I'm surrounded by children."
I laughed, genuinely enjoying their dynamics. "How do you all not kill each other after centuries together?"
They exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them.
"We tried, actually," Greed admitted cheerfully. "Renaissance period was particularly bloody."
"The 1970s were worse," Envy countered. "Disco nearly ended us all."
"We endure because we balance each other," Pride said more seriously. "Even when we want to commit fratricide."
"Family," Sloth said simply. "Dysfunctional as hell, but still family."
The word resonated unexpectedly. Family. Not what I'd expected to find when I'd been dragged back from the Underworld into this strange new life.
“But can you die?” I asked. “Apophis said you weren’t immortal.”
Pride sighed. “Think like Tolkien’s elves. We don’t age or get sick, but we can die from a deity above us killing us. We can get hurt in the mortal realm. It would take a lot, but it’s possible.”
Lust chose that moment to return, raising an eyebrow as he slipped me one of the glass bottles, filled with gold, glowing magick. His arm was in a sling, and his face and neck were mottled with fading bruises.
My skin pricked as I touched it, a bolt of arousal hitting me.
Focus.
"Speaking of family," I said, "maybe you can give me tips on how to get through to Gluttony.” He was the only one who resisted our bond.
Lust frowned. “Don’t push him too hard. Let him come on his own time.”
I nodded. "I'll be careful. I'm not looking to push boundaries, just to open a door that might be closed too tightly."
"Try mentioning the 1843 Bordeaux," Envy suggested. "He's been saving it for a special occasion for about a century now."
"Or ask about his spice collection," Sloth added. "He's actually pretty talkative about cuisine."
"Just don't mention Florence," Envy warned. "Any era."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's where?—"
"Clio," Pride finished with a nod. "Yes."
I filed this information away carefully. "Thanks for the tips. And for," I gestured around at all of them, "this. Letting me see beyond the sins."
"You're one of us now," Pride said simply. "Or becoming so, at least."
"Besides," Greed added with a characteristic grin, "we're learning about you too, through these bonds. Fair exchange."
"Oh really?" I crossed my arms. "And what exactly have you learned?"
"That you talk in your sleep," Envy offered smugly.
"I do not!" I argued.
"That you secretly think Pride's accent is sexy," Greed contributed.
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