“Wait,” Cassandra said, but when he slipped his arm around her waist she found herself walking calmly down the stairs.

It wouldn’t do to fight anyway. If I struggle, I might burn him to a crisp.

“It’s a short drive to my place. You don’t mind? Calypso will come, too, of course.”

Cassandra nodded. In the back of her mind her power to kill gods sat quietly, comforting as a gun under her pillow.

“You have nothing to fear from me.” He smiled.

“Of course I don’t,” she said.

He slid his hand into hers and led her from the club and down the street to his parked car, Calypso trailing behind at a safe distance. To the waiting line they would look like a pair of lovers, excited to be going home.

“Calypso,” Thanatos said, and opened the door for her to climb into the backseat.

“Thanatos,” she replied, and glanced at Cassandra. But this was why they’d come. Cassandra nodded, and she got in.

The drive was indeed short. Perhaps because the god of death had a sports car and no use for speed limits. The car hugged the turns, tires squealing. By the time they pulled into his secluded driveway, Cassandra’s stomach was wrapped trembling around her heart.

“Well?” he asked. “What do you think?”

Cassandra surveyed the yard. The house was beautiful, with wide windows and a view of the hills. It was isolated, and softly lit. The kind of house you’d expect a very rich serial killer to have. She pried her fingers away from the door handle she’d been clutching.

“I think you’re lucky my power doesn’t work on cars. Else your oh-shit handle would be toast.”

He chuckled.

“You’re not surprised to see me,” she said.

“I’ve been around a long time. There isn’t much that can surprise me. Come inside.”

Inside, the house was clean and sparely decorated. A few interesting modern art sculptures adorned the corners, and the couches and chairs were either white fabric or smooth black leather. Calypso came with her, in through the entryway and toward the open kitchen. Their heels clicked loudly on stone tile. Cassandra took a deep sniff and couldn’t detect a single scent. She frowned.

“You thought it might smell of flowers?” Thanatos asked. “Like a funeral home? That’d be a little on the nose, don’t you think?” He took off his jacket and laid it across the couch, then walked to the bar and poured three glasses of what Cassandra figured was brandy. She shook her head when he offered it.

“No thank you, on the date-rape brandy.”

Thanatos shrugged, and handed it to Calypso. Calypso went to lounge on a chair, and Cassandra blinked. They needed to stay on guard in the house of death. In the mellow light, his black eyes looked amused, and more human. The curve of his lip was seductive and soft. She crossed her arms.

“It’s obscene,” she said. “That you look this way.”

“Does that mean you like it? I hope so. Because I like this.” He gestured up and down at her dress. “The print, like an animal’s skin. It makes you look like the huntress you are.”

“It was my idea,” Calypso said.

“I’m not a huntress,” Cassandra snapped.

“Oh? You didn’t come here to find out what I knew of the other gods, so you can kill them? If you don’t think that constitutes hunting then you’d better get a dictionary.” He walked casually to the fireplace and lit it with a button. “It’s strange having you here. You’re like a big, bright, blinking light in my living room. To think I first heard of you such a long time ago.”

“Where? From who?”

He shrugged, and pushed black hair back from his eyes. “But I sensed you first in the club.” He sat beside Calypso.

“Me?” she asked in her soft, musical voice. “Why me?”

“Because you want me more than anyone else. More than anything.” He leaned in close. “Your longing is like a song.”

“Get away from her.” Cassandra stepped forward, but neither Thanatos nor Calypso moved. Calypso didn’t even look up. “Calypso. Don’t. You promised.”

Calypso blinked slowly. She looked so suddenly miserable that Cassandra’s throat tightened with guilt.

“You’re right,” she said. “I promised.”

“She promised she would stay,” Thanatos said to Cassandra. “What did you promise her? Because you better have promised her something.”

Under the intensity of his stare, Cassandra’s cheeks reddened.