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It was nice having her in the house.

Cassius graced us with his presence every dinner, and she didn’t seem to mind. The house subtly shifted to adjust for her presence. I could see my parlor, previously blue, slowly shifting to include a pattern of lavaliers in silver. A delicate, feminine touch I had never seen anywhere before.

When Ronan showed up with the tennis balls, staying for tea, I had the pleasure of realizing just how seamless her integration into my home had been. Phobos was too excited about the balls upon his arrival, so I was thoroughly distracted, and Kleos asked the house for the tea set I’d left in the kitchen. It obeyed.

It must have had something to do with the fact that she used my draining pool constantly, several times a day. I only bothered to get rid of my excess energy when I had to interact with people I might hurt, but Kleos apparently woke up with more power than the average demigod daily. I was half curious, half concerned at the thought of what she might have been without consistently weakening herself.

Which explained why someone was attempting to control her.

With the knowledge that the last ritualistic murders had been decades prior in mind, I scratched the younger generation from my list of suspects. That left very few individuals. Her parents, aunt, and uncle.

I knew better than to believe family was above hurting or using one of their members. The main question was to whatend? Reluctant to share those suspicions with her without more concrete proof, I probed.

“Won’t your family miss you this week?”

She snorted. “Dad practically lives at the Hall of Truce, or at his office. It’s election season in the new year—just three months away. He’s never home. And we’re approaching all of the winter celebrations. It’s nonstop after Samhain: Dionysus’s festival, then Poseidon’s on the winter solstice…all temples are busy, and Mother’s overseeing it all.”

I also asked what her parents thought of her career. One would think she’d end up in business or politics like her father, or serving the gods like her mother, but she picked the Guard.

“Dad doesn’t mind. Mother believes that I should be less concerned about work, and more about making a brilliant match.” She rolled her eyes.

“Didn’t she marry your father in her forties?” I checked, frowning.

“Yes, but she was married to a man approved by her family at twenty-one, like a good little Pendros. He just died after.”

All that was positively fascinating but didn’t offer up any ready answer.

By Friday, we were both tense. I had a hard time leaving her out of my sight, but I knew she was returning home tonight.

For a time. She was coming right back here after.

In your damn dungeon.

We worked again, but I barely assimilated the words I read so I wasn’t much use.

Zazel understood the assignment, never leaving Kleos’s lap.

She was going to be safe. We were going to keep her safe.

At five, I cleared my throat. We were in Theke, her on my chaise, me behind an armchair I’d dragged nearby. I’d put it off for as long as I could. “I have something for you.”

She intended to leave at six to get ready. I supposed I had to do the same.

She crooked an eyebrow, lifting her eyes from the page she’d stayed on for the last half hour. “Hm?”

I could feel my jaw tick. “You recall my mother’s dress?”

Her pretty mouth curled up. “Oh, I would remember your mother’s dress on my deathbed. All the shiny diamonds!”

That was reassuring, though my experience of her ability to accept gifts showed me I needed to be careful. She’d freaked about ashawl.

“It got me thinking. It’s no use to give you a shield meant to block magic: you can already do that yourself. But we could use a warning if any magic interferes with you.” I retrieved the flat box burning a hole in the inner pocket of my jacket. I flipped it open, and her eyes widened. Before she could protest, I went on, “The diamonds are spelled to change color—they’ll change all night, and any color of the rainbow is just fine. Except black. If they turn to onyx, we’ll know there’s a spell, curse, ritual or potion interfering with you.”

She was speechless, which was better than saying no.

“It’ll need an hour to get used to your own magic, so you should put it on now, since we know you’re fine.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as her hand stretched out, hovering over the necklace. “When did you even make that?”