Each discharge of power siphoned off more of Devlin’s energy, draining his ability to pour on the speed. Which explained why he’d barely gotten away when the blast wave hit him again.

  The force of it drove him backward through space as surely as if a giant hand had plastered itself against his body and pushed. For a moment, he had a fantastic view of the sky blazing with fire and lightning, and then his elemental form slammed into something so hard the impact forced him into his corporeal form.

  And, fucking Hades, his body hurt as if someone had stomped on every one of his bones.

  But above him, the whole top of the storm disintegrated, removing the most unstable part of the upper atmosphere from the storm’s fuel. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the East Wind whispered that the easternmost fringes of the storm were weakening under the assault.

  Devlin had to get up. He had to go at it one more time. He had to find a way to force Eurus into his corporeal form.

  Attempting to move felt a lot like that hammer had come in for a second round of bone-breaking, but Devlin pushed through it until he was on hands and knees in a grassy puddle shaped by his body, panting and grinding his teeth through the pain. Gritting it out, he forced himself back into the wind and took off, and while the elemental form shielded him from some of the physical pain, in this form he felt the depletion of his infernal powers more acutely.

  Devlin wasn’t sure how much more he had.

  Back in the sky, he found Chrys and Zeph running one coordinated attack of countering wind and lightning after another. Occasionally, the lightning hit home and destroyed the fringes of the storm, but just as often, Eurus pushed them back and sent them reeling.

  Devlin wasn’t sure how much they had left, either. Which meant he had to act, no matter the consequences.

  How’s it feel knowing your miserable son is the master of the East Wind? he called. And that I stole it right out from under your nose?

  The baiting worked just as Devlin thought it would. What was left of the face—mostly the bottom of the eyes through the top of the lip, turned toward Devlin as easily as if it had been real. I feel nothing, because I will shortly have it back, he boomed as thunder cracked loudly enough to shake the air itself.

  Not if I have anything to say about it. Devlin called forth every bit of his remaining power and shot it at his father from his elemental form. He’d gone for another four bombs, and only gotten three—but they hit squarely and true on the flat expanse of the cloudy cheek, exploding apart the middle of the hurricane’s wall and causing it to crumble in on itself.

  Devlin didn’t even try to get out of the way this time. What would’ve been the point? He barely had the strength left to stay in flight.

  The last thing he heard before the wave of heat and explosive force hit him were the cries and panicked voices of Zeph and Chrys.

  Please let it have been enough.

  BAM!

  The concussive blast crashed into him and hurled him into the ground a second time. He hit the blacktop of a street so hard, the road caved in around him.

  Pain rushed through and over him so purely he was the pain.

  There was no pretense of getting up or fighting again. This was it. The only thing he had left, he realized, was his voice. And while he had any resource at his disposal, he had to use it.

  “See,” he called as loudly as he could—and even that much movement was a sharp agony that went all the way down to his cells. “I’m still the master of the East Wind! And you’re still an abusive, psychotic son of a bitch.”

  And you’re just as pathetic as you’ve always been. What a fucking waste of air you are. And you’ve always been. The voice echoed through the thunder, but got closer and closer by the end.

  “I…am more…than you have ever…been, or could ever…be,” Devlin managed, his jaw screaming at the effort to speak, his head in an inescapable vise of pain.

  A sudden pressure alighted on his chest, and Devlin had to force the haze away from his vision and focus his eyes. Eurus stood above him—literally, since he had one foot planted on Devlin’s sternum. The only thing that wasn’t black on his father was the blood streaming from his mouth, eyes, and ears, and the pale white of his skin. His usual sunglasses were long gone, revealing the pitch black of his sclera. It was like looking into the eyes of death itself. Worse, actually, since even Thanatos wasn’t anywhere near as evil as the warped god standing on him.

  Devlin narrowed his gaze and gestured with a small nod of his head. “Looks like you might be bleeding a little there,” he said. Eurus’s mangled face twisted into a furious scowl. And Devlin burst out laughing. The laughter was excruciating, but he couldn’t stop, because it felt so fucking good to just say what he thought to his father, to not hold back, and to throw some of his own bullshit back in his face.

  Eurus stomped on Devlin’s chest so hard that he couldn’t breathe. For a moment, he was sure that, if he’d been able to lift his head and look, Eurus’s foot would’ve pounded a hole right through Devlin’s ribcage.

  Hovering on the edge of consciousness, Devlin couldn’t quite make out Chrys’s and Zeph’s calls and commands. And he couldn’t quite comprehend the odd sense of new energies in the sky above them. But what he could understand—about the only thing he could understand—was what the giant, blazing lance of lightning in Eurus’s hand meant.

  Devlin’s time was up.

  Annalise, he thought, picturing her porcelain face, pale blond hair, and gray eyes. This. This was the only thing he wanted to think about in his final moments. And even though every one of his pains multiplied at the thought of never getting to spend his life with her—because he knew for sure that’s what he wanted, ranks or rules be damned—at least he’d known what it felt like to be valued, to be accepted, to be loved.

  Because of her.

  “You…can’t…hurt…me…” Devlin managed. Thinking of Anna, he smiled.

  “Think again,” Eurus growled, and then he stepped off Devlin’s chest and raised the lance.

  …

  Flying through the air, Anna was buoyed by two gods. On the one side was Erebus, who had agreed to throw his might on the side of the Anemoi. On the other was Owen, who’d determined to helped his brothers after Erebus had used his primordial powers to call forth the full strength of Megan’s and baby Athan’s godhoods so they would awaken immediately. And if Anna hadn’t realized the full meaning of power before seeing Erebus use his bare hands to restore Owen’s little family back to consciousness, now she did.

  And apparently, that power ran through her, too. It was scary and thrilling and still a little unbelievable.

  As they neared the edge of a horrendous storm—one that looked a whole lot like that massive supercell storm she’d painted—Anna’s attention was pulled in multiple directions. To the devastation of everything on the ground—white-hot terror ripped through at the thought of what her father had gone through. Chrys’s and Zeph’s efforts to attack Eurus also captured her attention, except some impenetrable force seemed to surround the god and—Anna gasped as her gaze settled on the thing that grabbed and held her attention. Devlin. Lying broken on the ground, Eurus’s long spear of lightning poised to strike.

  No! she cried.

  Owen shot forward, throwing a frigid blast of air and ice directly at Eurus. All around the evil god, a frosty dome appeared separating Eurus from the other gods.

  He is just as powerful as you said, Erebus said. But still no match for me. This is going to be a bit rocky. I’ve got you.

  She barely had time to process that, what with her soul crying out for Devlin, when they crashed into the earth so hard, a shock wave rolled through the ground, lifting it up right under Eurus’s feet, causing him to stumble, and, more importantly, causing the bubble of rigid air all around him and Devlin to splinter and crack…and finally burst in a sharp, screaming gust that sent Chrys and Zeph reeling. Owen shouted something Anna couldn’t hear.

  Back in their physical
forms, Erebus roared, “Eclipse the light!”

  And everything went suddenly, totally black as an instant and preternatural eclipse of the sun settled over the world.

  The only light Anna could perceive was the lightning of Eurus’s lance.

  And then it started to move on a downward strike.

  “Nooo!” she screamed.

  Every inch of movement was like a knife cutting into Anna’s heart. She couldn’t believe they’d come all this way only to watch Devlin die before their very eyes.

  “Nooo!” came a mighty scream, followed closely by a wall of cold unlike anything Anna had ever felt.

  Back in the human world, Anna couldn’t see color anymore, but she still had her excellent night vision. And in the blackness she could just make out the form of a blast of whitish energy swooping in on Eurus and striking at him with something that glinted in the brightness of the lightning.

  There was a terrible, ear-splitting howl of agony and anger. And then the lance of lightning sagged awkwardly and fell to the ground. Had Eurus dropped it?

  The dark gray of the stormy day returned by slow degrees, enough to reveal Owen standing over Eurus’s crumpled body, a bloody knife in his hand, and Chrys and Zeph slowly picking themselves up off the ground in the distance.

  Anna made to run, but Erebus restrained her by the shoulders. “Let me, first.”

  Fisting her hands so tightly her knuckles hurt, Anna watched as Erebus crossed the ruined ground toward Devlin and Eurus. Zephyros scrambled across the debris until he lunged for something on the ground near Eurus. Oh, God, was that a hand? With a shout of victory, Zeph held up a glowing red object. The ring she’d heard so much about? Zephyros slipped it on his finger, and beyond him, clouds began to scatter as if the storm was moving in reverse.

  With a glance at the evil god, then at Devlin, then Zephyros, Erebus turned to her and gave her a nod.

  Anna tore into a run and came crashing onto her knees next to Devlin. “Oh my God,” she said as tears came unbidden to her eyes. “Devlin? Devlin, I’m here.” But he couldn’t hear her. Because there wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t bloody, bruised, or swollen. The only thing that gave her the slightest ray of hope was that his eyelids fluttered when she spoke, although only the whites of his eyes were visible. “Oh my God, help him,” she said, looking up to the group of gods surrounding her.

  But they weren’t looking at Devlin. Everyone’s eyes were on Eurus.

  Anna cut her gaze toward him. She gasped and reared back.

  She’d never seen Eurus before, of course, so she didn’t know what he’d once looked like. All she knew was that Devlin had said they’d resembled each other. But the god before her looked nothing like Devlin now, because he was aging before her very eyes.

  Kneeling at his son’s feet and cradling the bloody stump of his arm, Eurus had the salt-and-pepper hair and leathery skin of a seventy-year-old. Now the white hair and gaunt face of a ninety-year-old. Now…God…Anna couldn’t even guess.

  As they all watched, Eurus’s skin shrank and his hair thinned and fell out and his bones seemed to cave in. Yet he was still alive. Chrys and Zeph both knelt to watch the process unfold, relief and grief both present on their faces. Eurus groaned and cried and whined as the aging progressed, and inside deep eye sockets, his black eyes begged his brothers for some ease. When it was over, he almost appeared petrified.

  All around her, the tension melted out of the other gods’ bodies, as if they no longer perceived any danger from the evil god behind so much pain and destruction.

  At her side, Owen stood still gripping an iron knife in his shaking hand. “I didn’t know this would happen,” he whispered. “But I’m not sorry.”

  Zephyros shook his head. “Nor should you be. Besides, losing the ring was just the last straw in his demise. We’d already assured his death when he lost the East Wind.” He looked up at the Northern god. “Why are you here, anyway? I mean, thank you, because Chrys and I were about fried, but—”

  “Because of Erebus,” Owen said, gesturing to the god standing back from the group. “He woke Megan and Athan up so I could be here.”

  Chrys and Zeph had already taken a knee as Eurus deteriorated, so now they bowed their heads. “My lord,” they both called, absolute awe obvious in both their voices.

  “Thank you,” Zephyros said. “Just being in your presence is an honor. Receiving your assistance is a debt I will forever try to repay.”

  Erebus slowly walked forward, as if he were on a casual Sunday stroll, not sidestepping trash and roofing and downed tree limbs. “Your gratitude is appreciated but I count no debt. I was merely helping my daughter.” Crouching beside Anna, Erebus brushed her tears away with his knuckles and grasped her hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of it and then said, “Is this the god you love?” He nodded to Devlin.

  Anna nodded. “Yes,” she said around the knot of tears in her throat. “With all my heart.”

  “Then I will help him,” he said. Holding his hands over Devlin’s broken body, Erebus’s gaze went unfocused as he concentrated. A thin, translucent light dropped down from his palms to cover Devlin and she heard a soft bubbling noise. The sound got louder and louder until water seeped from the ground below Devlin’s body and slowly but surely covered him.

  Anna lunged, her mind filled with the image of Devlin drowning before her.

  Someone caught her by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” Owen said, holding her back. “This is a good thing.” His mismatched gaze cut from her to Zephyros and Chrys. “It’s the Acheron. He’s called forth the Acheron…here.” Awe was plain in his voice.

  Zeph nodded. “I recognize the smell of it,” he said, wonder and respect filling his expression.

  “What’s the Acheron?” Anna asked, not understanding why the other gods were acting that way.

  “One of the infernal rivers of the Underworld,” Owen said, giving her a reassuring smile. “And one of the strongest healing powers that exists in the entire world. Trust me.”

  Anna’s gaze tore back to Devlin, now surrounded in a pool of water that covered every part of him except a small ring of his face.

  “How long does it take?” she whispered.

  But no one answered.

  Anna was absolutely dying to touch Devlin, but she didn’t want to mess up whatever Erebus was trying to do.

  Five minutes passed. Ten. Maybe an hour. And all that time, Erebus called forth the magical waters, and all the gods kept vigil around the one who, not long ago, none of them had accepted. And that made Anna realize that Devlin’s life had changed every bit as much as hers over the past few days.

  “You have to live, Devlin,” she said. Because she loved him so much she thought her chest might crack open at the force of it.

  Long minutes later—Anna didn’t know how long because she was silently praying for Devlin’s life—his hand twitched. A small splash of water, and then nothing.

  “Devlin?” she called, hovering as close to him and the odd light emanating from Erebus’s hands as she could. “Devlin, it’s Anna. It’s Annalise. I’m here. Come back.” His hand twitched again. A small cry spilled from her throat. “Devlin,” she whispered.

  His lips moved as if he were trying to speak, but no sound came out. And then his eyelids eased open. “Anna,” he said so quietly it almost didn’t make a sound. But that was all she needed. Anna started laughing and crying and the others joined her, clasping hands and clapping one another on the back. A small celebration of the thwarted tragedy that might’ve been Devlin’s death.

  Anna turned to Erebus as he lowered his hands and sat back on his heels. “Thank you so much.” And she threw herself at him and hugged him tight.

  Erebus caught her with an oomph, which made Anna laugh again because he was like the most powerful god ever and yet she’d tackled him so hard and unexpectedly that she’d knocked the air out of him. Erebus chuckled and embraced her back. “Your happiness is its own reward, my daughter,” he said, a shadow
surrounding him in the growing daylight.

  Slowly, the water receded, leaving not only Devlin’s skin rejuvenated, but his clothing, too, as if the waters had left him a wholly new man. The moment the water was gone, Devlin’s entire body dried instantly. Finally, slowly, Devlin sat up in the middle of a huge, deep, body-shaped crater in the asphalt.

  Without a word or a glance anywhere else, his arms came around Anna. He hauled her into his lap and crushed her body to his. “I thought I was going to have to leave you,” he said against her neck.

  “Me too,” she said, crying on his brand-new gray shirt. “I love you.” She lifted her gaze to his.

  “I love you, too, Annalise. You are my forever and always. Would you be mine?”

  “Yes.” The word wasn’t even fully formed when Devlin’s lips crashed down on hers. The kiss was a celebration, a reunion, a coming together of souls. When they finally broke apart, Devlin crushed her to him again, like he didn’t want to let her go.

  And Anna couldn’t have been more content.

  Against her, Devlin went rigid. “What…” He shook his head. “Is that…”

  Anna pulled away and followed his gaze to the petrified shell of his father’s body. “Your father. He nearly killed you, but they stopped him,” she said, looking at the gods standing in a ring around them.

  Devlin helped Anna to her feet and then rose himself, coming face-to-face with Erebus. His skin paled and he dropped to a knee. “My lord,” he said, his voice tight.

  Erebus cocked his head to the side. “Devlin. How do you know me?”

  Anna wondered that, too.

  Head still bowed, Devlin said, “Anna’s energy signature resembles yours.”

  “Indeed,” Erebus said, staring down at him. “Look at me.” Slowly, Devlin raised his face. “Did you tell my son Thanatos you and I were in an alliance?”

  Anna’s gaze glanced between them. In the midst of everything else, she’d nearly forgotten Erebus mentioning this earlier.

  Devlin grimaced, but nodded. “Yes, to save my family. I take responsibility for the lie. Are you taking me to Thanatos now?”