Page 56 of Broken Obsession

“Don’t be sad if I go through with it.”

“You’re all I need.”

“Are you sure?” The sound of springs as Zar got out of his office chair came through the line. “Does that mean I can shoot the starling from your sky and pluck his feathers as well? We could have a feast. Fish and fowl.”

“What—” Eden snapped his mouth shut when Ares grabbed his hand and held.

“No,” Ares told Zar. “He’s as real as I am. He stays.”

“I predicted as much. Why are you calling, Creation? Is your divine companion giving you trouble? An eon apart will cause anyone to forget their roots. Look at you. You can’t blame him.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours,” Zar reassured. “Always yours. Why did you call me?”

“A convenient interruption in the middle of the night seems too obvious,” Ares said it, but the words were clearly meant for both of them. He didn’t really understand why he was slipping away either, and grasped at straws, hoping his friend could help him find the source and snuff it out before he turned catatonic, and everything was lost. “Things have been going well. Too well?”

“Games have setbacks all the time,” Zar said. “Isn’t an interruption one? You’re contradicting yourself.”

“Seems to be a running theme,” Eden grumbled, stiffening when Ares rested his gaze on him. He frowned, concern flashing through his icy blue eyes. “Hey.” The hand in his turned so he could clutch him back. “What’s wrong?”

“Is that the Starling?” Zar asked.

“I’m Eden.”

“Eden,” he tested the name out.

“Don’t.” Ares didn’t like it.

This was irrational. He probably appeared insane. One second, he’d been about to finger Eden, then he’d held a gun to his friend's head, and now he was on the phone. That series of events did not make sense. It wasn’t something a rational person would do.

He didn’t even know why he was doing it.

“Why am I talking to you?” he asked, and Zar snorted.

“You called me. Get your head on straight.”

“Bring me back.”

“That’s what I’m doing, Creation.” He sighed. “Run through your steps. Give me five things you see.”

“Eden,” Ares turned back to Noon, “and his stupid fucking friend.”

“That’s only two.”

“A towel.” His eyes skimmed up Eden’s bare chest, and another flicker of irritation lit in him. He tore his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, ignoring the way the other two gasped. Draping it over Eden’s shoulders, he tugged the sides closed and then went a step further, pulling him in until he was safely tucked against his side. “Better.”

“That’s three.” Zar didn’t ask what Ares meant by that last part. He most likely didn’t care.

“The table.” Ares’ gaze shifted to the corner of the room. “Mother.”

The shadowy figure of a woman seemed to peer back at him where it stood pressed between the refrigerator and the counter. She was encased in black smoke, embers breaking off and drifting into the air.

Zar cursed. “Hey, Starling.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Eden must have really noticed there was a problem, because he didn’t even bother correcting Zar about his name. “What do I need to do?”

“Turn on Vanity,” Zare instructed.