Cassie stared down at her hands. “I’m not that strong. I can’t do this on my own.”
“You would have Tara to guide you. A regent, of sorts.” The Pythia looked at Tara with a sad smile. “No matter what, Tara’s counsel can be trusted.”
“And who will become Pythia if I refuse?”
The Pythia shook her head. “I’ll choose someone else. Maybe Daria. Or Callista. But they are nearly as old as I am, and they haven’t long.”
Cassie’s hands balled into fists. “I’ll do it.”
Tension fell in the Pythia’s shoulders.
“But I won’t do it like you. I won’t be cold. I won’t be brutal. I’ll do it my way. No killing.”
The Pythia smiled. “I know you will try.”
The men stumbled back into the house. The Kahuna had a black eye, and the Cowboy was limping. Harry’s shirt was torn, and he had custody of the bottle of vodka. He lifted it and took a swig.
“Cheers,” he said. “To settling arguments the old-fashioned way. With violence.”
Irina began to pass out glasses. Harry poured. The Pythia raised her glass.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one