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glance at Dilby before nodding. Shea figured, if he had his way, he’d stay all night. But he never complained, never objected, not to anything.
She held out her hand and he tucked his much smaller one in it.
“Then let’s go. We’ve just got to make one stop on the way.”
* * *
To look at the building, you’d think it was just another empty brick monstrosity south of Penn Street.
No eteri would ever believe it hid the sanctuary of an Etruscan deity.
Hell, just saying that in casual conversation would make any eteri cross the street to avoid you. Then again, most people didn’t believe in things like curses or streghe or magic. They didn’t examine lightning for predictions of future events or make predictions about their lives by which direction birds flew overhead.
They certainly didn’t slash their forearms and offer their blood in sacrifice to Laran, God of War. And they’d never believe the dark-haired man standing before Gabriel was an actual God.
“You wanna tell me where you’ve been?”
Laran stared at him with hard, gunmetal grey eyes, his sharp expression set in stone cold lines. The god didn’t look much older than thirty, but he had strands of pure white in his black hair. He stood just a few inches taller than Gabriel, but it was amazing how much bigger he seemed. His presence overpowered everyone in the vicinity.
Guess godhood did that to you.
For a brief second, Gabriel thought about not answering Laran’s question. And decided he didn’t want to take his life in his hands.
“I was checking a tip in South Carolina.”
Gabriel held his breath waiting for the next question. He figured Laran knew he hunted Dario. He was a god, after all. But he’d never said a word about it to Gabriel.
Serena had forbidden the grigori to hunt Dario. Something about Dario’s destiny being tied to breaking the curse.
Well, fuck that. He wanted to kill the bastard. Laran had to know that.
Gabriel stared back into the god’s eyes, deep-set in a face full of sharp angles and broad planes. If Gabriel swung that way, he’d say Laran was attractive. In a compelling, Tommy Lee Jones’ kind of way. Not a man you wanted to fuck with.
And if Laran decided he’d overstepped his boundaries, Gabriel would pay a price. The God of War suffered no fools or dissenters.
But after a few seconds of silence, during which Gabriel heard worry in the hushed voices of the other six grigori gathered for the ritual, Laran nodded once and turned toward the altar.
Dodged that bullet.
Gabriel released the breath he must have been holding and joined the other men at the altar as Laran began the ritual.
“Great Tinia, Father of all Etruscans.” Laran’s deep voice carried through the open space, reverberating off the brick walls enclosing the courtyard filled with a small forest of oak, pine and birch trees. “Accept the sacrifice of my blood and the blood of your mortal sons as tribute for our gratitude. Give your sons the strength to fight against those who would harm your children.”
“Accept our offering,” Gabriel and the grigori chanted as Laran drew the dagger he held in his right hand from his left elbow to wrist. “Bless us with your strength.”
Laran extended his arm and let his blood drip onto the breasts of the red-headed woman splayed on the altar. Though he vaguely recognized the woman’s face, Gabriel didn’t know her name. He’d never seen the same woman here twice.
In ancient times, Laran would’ve had a temple full of priestesses as well as a cadre of priests who attended his every need and performed this ritual. But over the past two millennia, as the Etruscan civilization dwindled, the old ways had adapted.
Today, Laran performed his own rituals. Which didn’t exactly look like a hardship to Gabriel, considering. A little blood for sex.
The combination was so important to the Etruscans, it fueled most of their power.
“Great Father,” Laran moved to the base of the altar, where the woman’s body was