Page 10 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

Revel

I adjust the cuffs of my tailored suit, smoothing down the lapels as I stand before the floor-length mirror in my rented apartment.

Tonight is the Lancaster Tech charity gala, and I need to make a good impression.

Two full mortal weeks in Seattle, and I’ve barely made progress getting close to Sebastian or Jovie.

I’m trying not to let the failure get to me.

“You look ridiculous,” Sienna’s voice floats from behind me.

I turn to see her spectral form perched on the edge of my bed, her light eyes studying me with that perpetual look of disdain she reserves just for me. Even as a spirit, she’s striking—her long blonde hair cascading over shoulders that shimmer slightly in the dim light of my bedroom.

She is the only reason I knew to wear this strange getup, as she spared no feelings when letting me know exactly what mortals wear to events such as this. However, when she began obsessing over colors and patterns at the store, I kicked her out and let the kind saleswoman guide me through the rest.

The scowl she’s wearing now indicates she doesn’t agree with the woman’s advice.

“Some of us need to make an actual physical impression, not just float around terrifying people.”

“I don’t float,” she snaps, and I catch her reflection standing now, arms crossed. “And I don’t terrify people.”

“Tell that to the delivery man who dropped my food when you decided to materialize by the door last night.”

My stomach rumbles at the reminder of the pizza I had for dinner. That’s another thing about this realm—mortal food is disgusting. It’s as if they have half the spices we do in Aurelys and no clue how to pair them.

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue. That’s new. After two weeks of sharing this apartment, we’ve fallen into a rhythm of constant bickering that’s becoming almost...comfortable.

“Just remember why we’re here,” she reminds, her voice softening slightly. “My brother is stubborn. You need to approach this carefully.”

“I know Sebastian better than you think,” I snap back a little too harshly. Her tenderness is making me uncomfortable.

Thankfully, it’s short-lived.

“You know the God of Life,” she corrects me sharply. “You don’t know Bash Lancaster, billionaire CEO.”

I check my watch—an unnecessary accessory for an immortal being, but I’m trying to blend in. “Speaking of, I’ve got to get going if I don’t want to be late. Can’t make a bad impression with the mortal woman.”

Sienna’s expression changes at the mention of Jovie. “ You make a bad impression? Impossible.”

“Was that a compliment from the Goddess of Death herself?” I muse, hating the way it affects me.

She sneers. “Hardly. I’m mostly jealous that you get to have all the fun while I have to deal with being a ghost.” She rubs her palm against her neck, the gesture surprisingly human for someone who hasn’t been truly human in centuries.

“The human experience is not all that it’s cracked up to be.”

“At least Bash and Jovie know when you’re there,” she gripes.

“You said she may have seen you from the coffee shop.” I adjust my tie one last time, pushing back the lingering irritation from her confession the other night. “So we know it’s possible. Besides, she’s fallen for the God of Life. Twice. She’s clearly open-minded.”

This earns me the ghost of a smile—a rare sight from Death herself.

Clearing my throat, I busy my hands with gathering the rest of my human possessions—a phone, a wallet, and a key to the apartment. “I need to leave for the gala. And Sienna?” She pauses, turning back to me. “Don’t create any problems while I’m gone.”

She nods once before vanishing, leaving behind only the faintest scent of night-blooming jasmine—her signature in Umbraeth. I’ve never understood how her essence carries such a scent.

Death shouldn’t smell so . . . inviting.

T he Lancaster Tech charity gala is being held at the Seattle Art Museum; the grand lobby transformed with twinkling lights and elaborate floral arrangements that would make the nymphs of Aurelys jealous.

I’ve been to countless divine celebrations, but there’s something charming about the way mortals try to create magic with their limited resources.

I scan the room, looking for Sebastian among the crowd of Seattle’s elite.

Instead, I spot Jovie, stunning in a deep green gown that complements her light hair and Sebastian’s eyes.

A gold, heart-shaped necklace hangs around her neck and catches the light in such an odd way, it almost looks like it’s glowing.

She’s laughing with an older couple, her hand resting on the bar beside her where Sebastian should be.

Before I can approach, I feel a presence at my elbow.

“Mr. Revel Seravelle, isn’t it?”

I turn to find my friend standing next to me, two champagne flutes in hand.

He offers me one, which I accept with a nod.

He looks exactly like himself and nothing like himself at once.

Same dark hair and striking green eyes that mirror Sienna’s.

But there’s a hardness to him in this form.

A shrewdness in his gaze that the carefree God of Life never possessed.

“Mr. Lancaster,” I greet him, ignoring that I never offered my last name when he and Jovie invited me to the event. Instead, I busy my lips with taking a sip of the champagne and mutter, “Impressive event.”

“We wanted something special for Sienna,” he shrugs, and I ignore the pang in my chest at the polarity of how familiar it feels for him to utter his sister’s name, yet how odd that he's referring to her mortal life.

“Yes, about that . . . I did some research on Lancaster Tech after we met. I had no idea you were related to Sienna Lancaster, nor that she had a brother.”

His brows shoot up skeptically. “You knew her?”

“Briefly, yes. We were friends when I first moved to New York.” I decided last night that I would spin the story about knowing her as a way to earn his trust. Surely, if Sienna trusted me, he should realize there’s no reason for him not to as well.

But the look on his face tells me that may have been a miscalculation, and I’m wondering if I know my friend at all. “Interesting.”

In an attempt to lighten the mood, I switch subjects.

“I’m impressed with your company’s recent work with regenerative medicine.

Quite a turnaround from the software tech you were doing before,” I say conversationally, which isn’t entirely a lie.

His company now focusing on extending human lifespans has a certain poetry to it.

“Regenerative medicine,” he repeats slowly, studying me over the rim of his glass. “And what exactly is your background in the field, Mr. Seravelle? I’ve had trouble finding information about you.”

Direct attack. I’ve prepared for this.

“I’ve worked mostly overseas. Private research, very exclusive circles.” I smile, letting a hint of divine knowledge seep into my gaze. “Your work on cellular regeneration reminds me of techniques used in eastern healing traditions. Ancient knowledge meeting modern science.”

Something flickers in his eyes—a brief moment of recognition, quickly suppressed. Sebastian is still in there, buried under layers of mortal identity.

“You speak as if you’ve studied these ancient techniques firsthand,” he says carefully.

“Some knowledge feels like memory, doesn’t it?” I respond, watching his reaction closely. “As if we’ve carried it through multiple lifetimes.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think I’ve pushed too far. Then Jovie appears beside him, slipping her arm through his.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere.” She turns her warm smile to me. “I’m glad to see you made it, Mr....” Her words die off in question, a sheepish smile crossing her lips as it becomes clear she can’t remember my name.

She clearly hasn’t been looking into my identity as hard as her husband.

“Revel Seravelle,” I say, taking her offered hand. Up close, I can see what captivated the God of Life so completely. There’s a luminescence to her that’s rare in mortals, an almost divine quality in her smile.

“Yes, Revel.” She nods, pointing her finger to her temple as if she’s committing it to memory. “That’s right.”

“Revel was just telling me about his interest in our regenerative medicine projects,” Sebastian says, his arm tightening around Jovie’s waist possessively.

“Oh, you should come tour the labs sometime,” Jovie offers immediately, earning a sharp look from Sebastian that she either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore.

“I help manage the research division. Well, I do a lot of the paperwork for it while our geniuses handle the research.” I don’t miss the insecurity in her tone, nor do I miss the tightness in Sebastian’s eyes at the sound of it. “We’re doing fascinating work.”

Who could have guessed he’d choose a woman with such humility?

“I’d love that,” I reply, genuinely impressed by her openness despite Sebastian’s obvious distrust.

He opens his mouth to interject when his phone buzzes.

“Everything okay?” Jovie asks when he checks it, frowning slightly.

“Just work,” he dismisses, but I notice the concern etched in his features. The mortal world pulling at his attention, keeping him anchored here.

“Actually,” Jovie says, her voice dropping slightly, “I wanted to ask you something, Revel.” She glances at Sebastian, then back to me. “This might sound strange, but have you ever experienced anything ...unusual in your apartment building? Like seeing things that shouldn’t be there?”

My pulse quickens. This is about Sienna.

“What kind of things?” I ask carefully.

Sebastian’s attention snaps fully to our conversation, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s nothing,” he cuts in with a glare toward his wife. “Jovie thought she saw someone today who isn’t around anymore. Just a trick of the light.”

But Jovie shakes her head, determination setting in her features. “It wasn’t a trick. I know what I saw. It was Sienna.”

The name hangs in the air between us. Sebastian’s face pales slightly.