“That’s kind of how I feel when I’m at peak power and seek presences,” Quinn said. “Like the showdown at Marley’s when Anson attacked us? When we had to know where people were and if any of them had ability? I was trying to detect the leech and the people he’d hired,” she explained to Riley. “It’s not a skill I need to use often.”
“Do all goddesses have it?” she asked Quinn.
“Most, to some degree. Can you sense me or Nick?”
Riley closed her eyes and relaxed her brain, made her concentration diffuse…and there it was. She’d been so worried about what Sam’s buzz meant, she hadn’t even tried.
For Nick, it wasn’t much more than an awareness of his presence, but Quinn’s was stronger, warmer. Riley spread her attention across the room. She pinpointed where she thought people would be, and when she opened her eyes, she was right.
“Wow.” It seemed inappropriate to beam, but she was excited at discovering a new facet to her abilities. “That’s amazing. I can sense everyone, and they’re all different. People, goddesses, and—” She cleared her throat and looked down at her plate.
“Any prickles here similar to what you felt in Atlanta?” Nick asked.
Riley shook her head but avoided his gaze. She didn’t know why Sam felt the same as Anson, but it didn’t seem like it would be a good thing. “No one feels like the men in suits did.”
But Nick seemed to recognize her evasion. “Can you sense Sammy here? Is he different from me?”
She glanced up at Sam, who was watching her. His brown eyes were darker than normal, a hint of excitement or anxiety—or both—disturbing the overall calm. It was the first time since they rescued her that he’d looked at her so directly, and desire made her tremble.
He smiled a little. “It’s okay,” he encouraged.
“Yes,” she admitted. “The same kind of buzzy feeling I get with Anson, but not the same as the other men.”
“So those three might actually be modern-day gods,” Quinn said with a matter-of-factness Riley couldn’t help but admire. “Watered-down descendants of the ancients like us.”
“But why are Sam and Anson so different?” Riley didn’t like anything connecting the two men, but Quinn didn’t seem concerned.
“They’re both sons of goddesses, so they’re unique.” She ate her last bites of asparagus and contemplated her steak, as if uncertain if she could finish it or not. “And when I drained Anson, I knew there’d be a bit of residue.”
“Enough for him to sense the energy,” Sam said in a low voice. “But not tap into it.”
Riley gasped. “Does that mean you’ve done it? You returned power to one of the goddesses?”
Sam nodded. “And now there’s a residue in me, from being a filter.”
“I knew it.” Nick stabbed an accusing finger at Sam. “When you hauled ass out of the motel earlier—you didn’t just slam the door. There was energy behind it.”
“I was upset!” Sam protested.
“Keep your voices down.” Quinn leaned over the table. “That’s more than we expected, Sam. You can actually use it? Not just feel it?”
His jaw was set, and he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. “Apparently.”
“What about now?” she asked.
He nodded shortly.
“There’s no river near here,” Nick pointed out.
“I know.”
“And you still feel it?”
“Yes.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed on Sam. “It’s a good thing Riley got herself out of Millinger, isn’t it? You’d have used it on Tournado in a heartbeat.”
Sam’s jaw tensed even more. He held his beer bottle so tightly the label slid and wrinkled. “I’d have done what I needed to do to defend the people I care about.”
Riley blushed and looked down, fussing with her napkin, but the others didn’t pay any attention to the implication.
“You’d also have shown him that you have power!” Nick growled. “What do you think would stop him from coming after you if he found out?”
Sam fidgeted. He looked at Quinn’s sympathetic expression, at Riley, and back at Nick. Then he let go of his beer bottle and rubbed his face with both hands. “You’re right. But obviously, it’s irrelevant right now.” He slumped against the booth. “What are we going to do with all this?”
Quinn cut into the last bit of her filet. “If there are gods, it needs investigating. We have to find out what Jeannine and John know already.”
“They won’t talk over the phone,” Sam said. “And neither should we. If Riley’s right and these guys are powerful people in government and business, they could easily be monitoring phone lines.”
Quinn sighed. “They’ve been watching Anson, right?”
“Right,” Nick and Sam said together.
“Let’s assume they know at least as much as we do. We’ll talk to them when we can. But now that we’ve started, we have to keep going with the transfers. I can’t—we can’t just stop with the way things are.”
Nick nodded. None of them looked happy about leaving this all up to the Society. Riley felt a lot more comfortable with the organization after spending a couple of days there, but she’d also heard enough to understand why they’d feel that way. She also suspected that if Quinn was admitting she had to keep moving with the transfers, things were way more serious than they seemed.
She suddenly remembered what else she’d heard.
“Nick, did you know John wants you to take over for him?”
The simple question had the effect of a time bomb coming to life on their table. Everyone froze.
When Nick didn’t answer, Quinn turned on him. “Did you know?”
“No!” He snatched a french fry off his plate and tossed it in his mouth. “I didn’t,” he insisted at Quinn’s skepticism. “I’d tell you right away if I knew for sure.”
“For sure,” she pounced. “So you knew, even if you haven’t talked to him about it.”
“Does it matter? I’m not taking the job.”
Quinn rested her hand on her forehead. “Nick.”
“Are you all right?” He scooted closer and put his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”
She straightened and glared. “You’re what’s wrong, you idiot! They assigned you to me permanently, didn’t they? And you’re miserable! You want this job.”
Oh, boy. Riley didn’t even bother to excuse herself, just moved to slide out of the booth. Sam immediately stood, and in silent agreement, they went outside into the steamy night.
“Yikes. I opened up a can of worms, didn’t I?” Riley walked along the sidewalk to a bench set out for overflow during peak hours. Once there, though, she realized she didn’t want to sit and kept going. Sam kept pace with her, his long legs swinging in a slow stride.
“Looks like. Quinn’s probably right about them assigning Nick to her. He’s not the kind of guy to drop out of the Protectorate permanently. And Barbara, the last president, was pretty concerned about Quinn having all that power.”
“So he’s supposed to be protection against her, too?”
He grimaced. “Not exactly. Well, probably from the board’s point of view. But he’s been worried about her. And they were apart for fifteen years, one of those want-but-can’t-have situations, so he wouldn’t have left her, anyway. They’d have found some kind of compromise.”
Riley nodded. “Now…about leaving this gods thing to the Society…”
“I know.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “You know what?”
“Jeannine isn’t the best person to deal with this. Not that we’re better equipped. The repercussions are too vast. And there are way too many open questions.”