“Rocket.” I turned him to face me. It was like turning a Zamboni. Not with the steering wheel, but by standing on the ice in front of it and pushing. “When you say the sun cannot marry the moon, do you mean like the sun in the sky?”

He shook his head. “No, Miss Charlotte. He is the son and the brother and the father. He is the destroyer and the darkness. He is the everything.”

“So, I’m not the sun in your metaphor?” I asked, more than a little disappointed. “I’m the moon?” I’d just figured the sun was in reference to my bright-ass light. How on earth did I rate the moon? Then I remembered I loved the moon, and I was happy again.

Rocket placed his hands on my arms. “Don’t tell him what you’ve done, Miss Charlotte.”

The guy had never known his own strength. His fingers bit into my skin, and when he shook me, my teeth rattled.

“Don’t ever tell him. The son is the most dangerous of the three.”

“The three?” I asked from between clattering teeth. “The three gods of Uzan?” I gaped at him. “Is that who you’re talking about?”

“He is the most dangerous, Miss Charlotte. He will scorch the world and everything in it. He will turn the mountains to ash and the seas to salt. And there will be nothing left but the dust in the wind.”

Aw, I loved that song.

He let go of me, and I knew the moment he did what was going to happen. He disappeared. I shot forward to try to grab him, to try to keep him with me a bit longer, but he was gone by the time I realized I may have overshot my mark. I stumbled forward and caught myself on the opposite wall. With my face.

My face had been through a lot already, and the day was still relatively young.

I rubbed my cheek and replayed what Rocket had said. None of it boded well for the world, but Reyes would never do that. His daughter lived on this world. He would never burn it to the ground. He would never destroy it.

Unless … I’d been heading back down to the basement to make my escape, singing “Dust in the Wind,” when I stopped halfway down the stairs. Unless he found out what I did.

I covered my mouth with a hand, suddenly worried he’d find out the truth. Then I remembered I had no idea what that truth might entail or why Reyes would care. Did it have something to do with the god glass and the fact that I was carrying around an entire dimension in my pocket? I didn’t do anything but trap a minion of evil inside a hell dimension. How mad could he be?

Rocket didn’t even look at the god glass, and he’d been so excited. I felt like I’d ripped him off in some way. Like I’d cheated him out of a little excitement.

Next time.

It wasn’t until I’d scurried out the basement window that something else he’d said hit me. The moon. In my original language, my celestial language, there was a word that sounded like we would say “the moon.” It sounded a bit more like dtha-muhn. It would be like comparing Luke, as in moon, to look, as in muhn. Could that have been what he was saying all along? The words were similar, but the meanings were worlds apart.

The word dtha-muhn in my language could be used in a number of ways, but it all boiled down to one simple concept: the idea of a single omniscient overseer of life. And, more specifically, one who takes it at will. Like a slayer. Or an assassin. Or an executioner. In the celestial realm, the only comparison I could come up with would be the angel of death.

But I was none of those. Gods didn’t take life. They gave it. Created it, even. Or at least that’s what I’d grown up believing. But then I looked at the gods of Uzan. They seemed capable of nothing but death and destruction. Surely that wasn’t what Rocket meant.

I dropped off the salsa to a very grateful Cookie and tried to dismiss the idea, but it lingered in the back of my mind all the way to the station, where I had a certain cop to harass. Two, actually.

At least Beep was safe. I could be grateful for that. Right?

10

I think senility is going to be a fairly smooth transition for me.

—TRUE FACT

Beep is safe.

I repeated that mantra over and over, certain that if I said it enough, I’d believe it.

“Hey there,” I said, making my voice as deep and sultry as I could. Officer Taft looked up from the paperwork he’d been filling out on his computer. Or playing Pac-Man. It was hard to tell. I’d caught him just as his shift started, knowing that would probably be the only time I could before he ventured out to make our streets a safer place.

“Davidson,” he said, glancing around to make sure no one noticed me talking to him. He was so touchy about his rep. And, quite frankly, it wasn’t that great. “Is she here?”