Page 8 of Gods of Prey (Parallel Prey #3)

Sienna

I hover by the window of Revel’s newly acquired apartment, staring across at the modern high-rise where my brother now lives.

After much debate outside the rental office, we decided it would be easiest to obtain residence here in the mortal plane and fabricate a story for Revel to make him more relatable.

Conjuring up the proof of a life beyond his first few hours here was a fun little exercise to pull me out of my panic, but I think the leasing agent was too distracted with bedding him to care.

He insisted on getting a two-bedroom apartment. To the agent, he explained that he needed an office for work, but when she left us to print out his paperwork, he admitted he got the second bedroom for me.

“I’m hardly even here . I don’t need a bedroom,” I argued, hating the genuine concern for me etched across his face. No one is ever concerned about me. “I don’t even sleep.”

“You need a place to retire to that’s your own,” he insisted.

“I don’t need a room. I can just”—I waved my hands around in circles—“float around.”

But his features were set in a determined stare. “That’s ridiculous. You’re a goddess. You’re allowed to have your own room.”

“It’s a waste of money,” I hissed, hating the way his words made my ghostly little heart dance in my chest.

“Mortal money is an illusion, anyway. It’s all fake.” His eyes moved to the glass door, where we could see the leasing agent sashaying toward us. “And it’s already done, so deal with it.”

By some miracle, she got us the keys to a fully furnished, two-bedroom apartment within hours. He’s been on edge since we stepped into the safety of our new space and he could finally drop his act. I have no idea what has his panties so far up his ass, but I truly don’t care enough to ask.

The first thing he did was collapse onto his bed and fall asleep and I’ve been grateful for the reprieve.

Such a weak interim god, unfamiliar with mortal strain.

Rain slides down the glass, distorting the Seattle skyline—a fitting metaphor for how disoriented I feel being back in the mortal realm so soon after my death.

“Could you stop doing that?” Revel’s voice breaks my concentration.

I turn to face him, my spectral form shimmering slightly. “Doing what?”

“The flickering thing.” He gestures vaguely at my translucent body. He’s unpacking a suitcase filled with mortal clothes that we manifested when we got here and realized he had absolutely nothing. I’m not sure how I didn’t hear him get up. “It’s distracting.”

“Forgive me for not having perfect control over my spectral manifestation,” I snap. “I’ve been dead for barely a year in this timeline.”

Revel sighs, running a hand through his hair. In his mortal form, he’s frustratingly handsome—tall with broad shoulders. His usual glowing silver eyes have been tampered down to a light gray. Everything about him radiates life, which I suppose is the point. He is its interim keeper, after all.

And I haven’t missed the looks he gets from people as we pass them on the street. As if they sense what he is and are naturally magnetized to him.

“Let’s go over the plan again,” he says, ignoring my irritation. “I befriend your brother and his mortal lover. You try not to be seen by anyone except them, and only if necessary.”

“I’m well aware of my limitations, thank you.

” I drift closer, watching him arrange his belongings with meticulous care.

Everything about Revel is ordered and deliberate—a mirror of my twin.

“Sebastian won’t trust you easily. He never does with new people, even when he doesn’t remember who he truly is. ”

“And you think I don’t know that after centuries of friendship?” Revel’s voice holds a sharp edge.

“Friendship,” I echo with a hollow laugh. “Is that what you call covering for him while he plays mortal?”

I don’t know what inspires the insult. Especially when I’m guilty of the exact same crime. He just embeds himself so deeply under my skin, I can’t stop myself.

He pauses what he’s doing and turns to face me fully. “I’d do anything for Sebastian. He would do the same for me.” His eyes narrow. “Not that you’d understand loyalty beyond obligation.”

“Thirty-three lifetimes of dying alongside my twin gives me some claim to loyalty, I think.”

We stare at each other in tense silence before Revel looks away first. “We should head out. I want to have a run in at the coffee shop on the ground floor of their building. If we’re late, we’ll miss them.”

“How convenient,” I mutter, but follow him toward the door.

“Try not to manifest visibly,” he warns. “I don’t need mortals screaming about ghosts on my first day here.”

I roll my eyes, though he can’t see it as I’ve already made myself invisible to him. Small rebellions are all I have left.

T he coffee shop buzzes with morning activity—laptops open, business meetings in hushed tones, baristas calling out complicated drink orders. I spot Sebastian immediately.

In this life, he wears his success like a second skin.

Expensive suit, perfectly trimmed dark hair, focused expression as he taps away at his laptop.

He looks exactly as he did before I died in this timeline, except for the shadows under his eyes.

Hunting down my killers with Jovie must be taking its toll.

Speaking of which?—

“I got you the dark roast with an extra shot,” Jovie appears, sliding into the seat across from my brother.

Her soft brown hair is pulled back in a sensible ponytail, her smile genuine as she passes him the coffee.

I don’t miss the similarities between her and his second-in-command.

Perhaps it was the familiarity in her features that initially caught his attention.

Something twists inside me watching them together.

Not jealousy exactly, but a hollow ache for what I’ll never have.

In all our mortal lives, Sebastian and I have been bound together, two sides of the same coin.

But here he is, willing to abandon everything—his divine duties, the cosmic balance, me —for love.

Revel walks confidently to the counter, positioning himself within Sebastian’s line of sight. I drift closer to hear their interaction.

“New in the building?” the barista asks with obvious interest.

“Just moved in across the street,” he replies with an easy charm that irritates me. “I’ll take whatever your specialty is.”

I watch Sebastian’s head lift slightly, his attention caught by the new voice. Always alert, my brother. Even without his memories, some instincts remain.

When Revel receives his drink and the barista’s number on a folded napkin, he deliberately walks past Sebastian’s table, pretending to search for an open seat. Then, as if by accident, he stops.

“Excuse me,” he says to my brother. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s decent takeout around here? Just moved to the neighborhood.”

An easy, lopsided grin forms on his lips as he falls into the likable, happy-go-lucky guy.

Sebastian studies him with barely concealed suspicion, his nose scrunching slightly. “Depends what you’re looking for.”

Jovie, ever the friendly one, smiles up at Revel. “There’s an amazing Thai place two blocks east. We order from there all the time.”

“I’m Revel,” he extends his hand to Jovie first. Smart move. She’s the easier target.

“Jovie,” she shakes his hand warmly. “And this is Bash.”

My brother reluctantly offers his hand. “Sebastian Lancaster.” He gives his full name as a clear message that he isn’t friendly.

The moment their hands touch, I see Sebastian flinch almost imperceptibly. Something passes between them—recognition, perhaps, buried deep in my brother’s subconscious. Revel feels it too. I can tell by the slight widening of his eyes.

“Nice to meet you both,” Revel says smoothly, covering the moment. “I won’t interrupt your morning any further.”

“Where did you move from?” Jovie asks, ignoring Sebastian’s subtle head shake. She was always too trusting.

“New York,” Revel replies with perfect casualness. “Needed a change of scenery.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow fractionally. “Interesting coincidence. We’ve relocated from New York ourselves. Recently.”

Shit . He should have come up with somewhere else.

“Well, it’s a small world,” Revel says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Certainly is,” my brother agrees, his tone carrying a warning even he doesn’t fully understand.

I drift closer to their table, unable to help myself. Being near him has always been my natural state, in every lifetime. His eyes flicker briefly toward me—not seeing, but sensing something. The twin bond never truly breaks, even across the veil between Life and Death.

“If you’re new to the area, you should come to this charity event we’re hosting next weekend,” Jovie offers, countering Sebastian’s sharp glance with one of her own that’s equally unsettling.

“He owns Lancaster Tech, a tech firm just up the street. We’re hosting our first fundraiser for medical research. ”

“Medical research?” Revel raises an eyebrow, glancing momentarily in my direction though he can’t see me.

“My sister was in medical school,” Sebastian says stiffly. “Before she died.” He adds the last part in a harsh tone as a warning not to press any further, but I can hear the hurt lacing his words.

The pain makes me wish, fleetingly, that I could touch him. Comfort him as I had so many times before.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Revel says, and I’m surprised by the genuine sympathy in his voice.

“Thank you,” Sebastian replies automatically, then checks his watch. “We should go, Jovie. Board meeting in twenty.”

As they gather their things, Jovie writes something on a napkin and hands it to Revel. “The address and the event details. Hope to see you there.”

Sebastian doesn’t look pleased, but he says nothing as they leave. Once they’re gone, Revel sits at their vacated table and takes a sip of his drink.

“You can appear now,” he murmurs. “They’re gone.”

I materialize in the chair Jovie vacated, visible only to him. “He sensed something.”

“I know.” Revel frowns. “There’s still more of Sebastian in there than I expected.”

“And you didn’t exactly make a stellar first impression,” I point out agitatedly. “He’s suspicious already.”

“Your brother has always been suspicious. Even as a god.” Revel tucks the napkin into his pocket. “But Jovie likes me.”

“Jovie likes everyone.” I lean forward. “What was that moment when you shook hands? I saw you both react.”

Revel is quiet for a moment, staring into his coffee. “For a second, I felt Aurelys in him. Like touching sunlight.” He looks up at me. “He’s still in there, Sienna. The God of Life is still inside him.”

Despite everything, relief floods through me. “Then there’s hope.”

“There’s always hope where life is concerned,” he says with infuriating confidence.

I roll my eyes. “Spare me the philosophical remarks.”

“Speaking of philosophy,” Revel continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “We need to follow them to Lancaster Tech. See what we’re dealing with in terms of security and access.”

“Already planning a break-in?” I raise an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem very godly of you.”

“Says the Goddess of Death who’s currently haunting a coffee shop.” He stands, leaving cash on the table.

As we leave the coffee shop, I catch a glance at the retreating forms of Sebastian and Jovie, already taking a turn halfway down the block.

My twin, the God of Life, now a mortal billionaire with no memory of who he truly is.

And I, the Goddess of Death, reduced to a ghost trailing after him once again.

The irony isn’t lost on me: Death herself trying desperately to save Life from his own foolish heart.