Page 5 of Lovesick Gods (Lovesick #1)

That would keep Dom appeased leading up to the heist. She wasn’t called Helios for being cool-headed. On the other hand, “Lucy’s going to be jealous.” Mal’s sister hated when he got new toys without her. “Earth powers don’t have the same impact to make an amplifier worthwhile.”

“I have something else for our dear Gaia ,” Priestly said as he retrieved a bag to collect Mal’s spoils.

“Very classic femme fatale item she wondered if I could make. I said it was stupid and ridiculous and that yes, I absolutely would have to try since she asked, so hopefully I’ll have a prototype ready about the same time as your cuffs. ”

Mal folded his hands in front of him as his smile went crooked. “It’s knockout lipstick, isn’t it?

“How’d you know?”

The Ambushers was a guilty pleasure movie for him and his sister ever since they were kids, along with a few others, though usually Lucy didn’t appreciate too many films before 1980. In it, a lady spy used poisoned lipstick while sipping on a drink that acted as the antidote.

“We change, we age, we grow,” he said, “but some things always stay the same, and I know my sister. How soon can you have everything done? We need to be able to test out the amplifiers with at least a few days’ leeway before the job at the museum.”

“Give me a week,” Priestly said, looking unimpressed as he set the now filled bag between them and crossed his arms. “Eight to nine days max.”

“Done. Usual fee and overhead for the Andrews?”

“Only on the cuffs. Lucy gave me a real challenge with the chemistry for the lipstick. That’s on the house.”

“Careful,” Mal smirked. “At this rate she’s likely to ask to keep you. She always wanted a baby brother.”

Priestly snorted. “I’d take you two over my parents any day.”

“Well,” Mal said, spreading his arms to encompass the room filled with contraband, “we’re clearly better role models.”

Priestly’s father was a white-collar criminal who’d gotten fifteen years for embezzlement—right after he disowned his son for coming out as gay. Good riddance, as far as Mal was concerned.

Hefting the bag to take his leave, he noticed Priestly’s demeanor shift, tense and antsy now that he knew his time with Mal was limited. “Something else on your mind?” he asked.

“I saw Sean Dunkirk in the area again,” Priestly admitted. “Couple days ago. He didn’t do anything. I couldn’t tell if he was carrying, but—”

“Tell me immediately when something like this comes up,” Mal spoke to him directly. “If Dunkirk’s showing more of a presence lately, you know why.”

“Got it, boss. Sorry.” Priestly averted his eyes. “He was alone. I figured that meant Dunkirk Senior wasn’t giving him any support.”

“He’s not, but that doesn’t mean Sean is any less of a threat. Next time, tell me the second you see him.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Think nothing of it, Hart, but stay alert. Titans have to watch each other’s backs, remember?”

A relieved smile twitched at Priestly’s lips. “Yeah, boss.”

Most people would assume the man’s presence was mob-related or doubt the importance of a single figure, but Dunkirk’s show of impertinence had nothing to do with territories.

Mal had expected for him to start lurking again, because the last time Dunkirk came snooping was six months ago—just like Danny.

?

“So that’s the deal,” Danny said, all his cards on the table, including his identity.

“You help me with Thanatos on the day I specify and keep my identity a secret, and I’ll leave you alone.

I’ll make a good show of things whenever you pull a heist, so the public doesn’t catch wise, but if I win, I’ll let you go.

I’ll never take you to the police, and you’ll never see me in your neighborhood again. ”

“Let’s not get carried away, Sparky,” Mal said. “I wouldn’t say no to a drink someday. On you , of course.”

Danny fell into an easy chuckle that made his dimples crease.

The way his body moved, his voice, his power, had entranced Mal from day one facing Zeus, but seeing the real him was far more appealing.

“Just promise me you’ll be there, Ice Man.

Please,” he said, a little too openly for Mal’s taste, far more vulnerable than he should risk in front of his nemesis.

And Prometheus was his nemesis, not Thanatos. That title carried a certain amount of respect despite being at odds. Thanatos never understood that.

“I’ll be there,” Mal said.

The thing was, he’d had every intention of following through.

?

As Mal headed toward one of his safe houses to deposit the items he’d acquired from Priestly, he thought back to six months ago when he’d last seen Danny.

He’d carried out a simple heist right after Thanatos was defeated, and Danny had delivered him to the police without a second thought.

After all, Mal hadn’t fulfilled his end of the bargain.

When the kid slapped power-dampening cuffs on his wrists—as Detective Grant not Zeus—Mal had whispered to him with a twist of a smile. “I still know your secret, Sparky. I won’t spill the beans this time , but does that make us even for my little no-show?”

Danny had looked at him as though he were the one with a heart of ice. “Not a chance,” he said and slammed the squad car door.

Mal broke out of prison a month later, but the kid never came calling to drag him back. Now, Mal couldn’t help but wonder what Danny might be up to.