Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (book club reads .TXT) 📕

night, waving off the girls when they asked if he wanted to join them around the bonfire. He had plans with Seke — not that his captain was as yet aware of their evening plans.

Tossing the dishcloth on the counter and strolling out of the kitchen, Cole peeked his head into several empty rooms until he finally located the quiet god. He correctly assumed that Seke wouldn’t be in the gym, given that the god never worked out. He only entered the gym to oversee their training sessions since he largely stayed out of the action during missions.

Of course, today, that had been a bit of a downfall. He was still a god, so there wasn’t much he couldn’t handle, but the combination of inactivity mixed with mental distraction had derailed them, and Cole had feared they’d lose their target — or worse, another of his girls.

The god wasn’t in his office either, which was where Cole had expected him to adjourn and sequester himself off with his thoughts. He’d been angry after the shit first hit the fan. Then, Ember had talked to him, and he’d pulled his head out of his ass to be the leader he needed to be. But as the weeks wore on, he’d faded again. And today… today, he’d completely shut down after the mission. He hadn’t said more than a word or two to any of them since they left the prison, including during a very terse dinner — even though Raven had prepared his favorite.

That actually gave Cole some confidence as he stepped into the library and saw the god perched in an armchair, a massive tome open in his lap. If Seke were acting normally, Cole’s intervention would seem out of the blue and be ill-received. Since Seke was already upset, Cole hoped he wouldn’t have to do too much prodding. Mostly, he wanted to support the guy.

Hell, he knew how much of a struggle lady problems could be. If it were another hellhound, he’d suggest fighting it out of his system. But Seke was a reserved kind of god, so fucking therapy session it was.

“Hey, man.”

Seke didn’t react, running a finger over some image on the page as Cole approached.

“Seke?”

Still nada.

Cole dropped to a crouch and peered up at the god. His eyes were glazed, though he appeared to stare at the image of a woman. She wasn’t even hot or anything — and looked nothing like Aria. “You into druids now?”

Seke jerked back and blinked. “Cole.”

Cole tucked a few dreads behind his ears then let his forearms drape over his knees. “Hey,” he said again, not quite sure where to start.

“What can I do for you? Do you need something?”

“Nah. In fact, the opposite. I’m here for you.”

Seke tilted his head. “For me?”

“Yep.” Cole let out a sigh as he tipped from his crouch onto his butt, keeping his arms relaxed on bent knees. “I figure after what happened today, you might have something you want to talk about.” The hellhound decided to start, let Seke lead the conversation instead of going on the offensive.

Seke frowned, closing the book and setting it gently on the arm of the chair. “Yes, I owe you an apology for today. You did well to hold the soul until I could get to it, and I apologize that I forced you into that situation. It was dangerous. For all of us.”

Cole watched the god’s lips flatten. He was beating himself up, which was not the point of this. “We’re a team. We help each other out. That’s why I’m here now. Wanna talk about what had you so distracted?”

“Distracted?”

“Mmhm.” Cole narrowed his eyes. “And I don’t mean by the guys you were fighting. Something else has been bothering you.” He waited, but when Seke feigned ignorance, Cole shook his head. “Aria, man. You’re hung up on Aria.”

“Ah, so you do know her name isn’t Cupcake.”

Cole just raised a brow. The wisecrack wasn’t going to deter him.

“Yes,” Seke admitted. “Yes, you are right. I seem to be struggling to let her go. I… worry about her. I was her captain first, and I pushed her away. I worry how she’s doing in her new units.”

That wasn’t it. He wasn’t acting like a concerned guardian or whatever. He was acting lovesick. But Cole let him keep his excuse for now since it seemed to help the god keep talking. “You think the other captains aren’t capable of keeping her safe?”

“No. Of course not. That’s not it. I know them to be capable.” Seke folded his hands together, shifting to the edge of the chair.

“Don’t tell me you think the chick can’t take care of herself, then.” Cole snorted. “Not only was she on her own for years, but you’ve seen how she fights. Dirty.” The hellhound massaged a new scar on his bicep, courtesy of one of the banshee’s blades during a training session a month or so ago.

Seke gave a small smile. “She learned how to fight on the streets. It was difficult trying to retrain her.”

“She was difficult, period. Stubborn.”

Seke laughed outright. “That too.”

“But you liked her brand of difficult,” Cole ventured, daring to softly say. “She was a challenge.” That didn’t do it for him. The hellhound got enough fight from his teammates, from his work. He liked soft, compliant. He didn’t want to force love. He wanted to revel in it. But he could understand the appeal to the god who’d been worshipped and praised and revered his whole extensive existence.

Seke didn’t reply, but he didn’t object or walk away, so Cole pressed on.

“She won’t come back.” He knew that for sure. Even if the director decided this was the best fit for her, there was no way Aria would agree to it. She’d kick and scream — definitely scream — if anyone tried to force her back. They hadn’t been all that welcoming. And after what happened, the guilt would be too much.

Cole had finally accepted that the banshee wasn’t