“Atropos is the one I miss the most,” said Thanatos. “The raven-haired beauty in the middle.”

“Not so beautiful anymore.”

Thanatos chuckled. “She’ll always be beautiful. A god of death. Like me.” He looked at Cassandra. “There aren’t actually that many creatures who understand what it is to end life. Like we do.”

“This is a stupid game,” she said, and moved toward the fireplace to escape his gaze.

“It’s over, anyway.”

Irritated heat shot through her wrists, into her palms, and down each finger. She felt ridiculous, in this house, clacking around in heels that were too high and a dress that was too tight.

“Tell me what you know. If you know where Ares and Aphrodite are, tell me.”

“Or what?” he asked.

“Or I will kill you.”

He twisted on the sofa to keep her in view.

“Try.”

“What?”

He put his brandy down and stood.

“I want you to try. You would do it eventually anyway, wouldn’t you? Or were you planning on sparing the god of death, just because I turned state’s evidence?”

“I don’t know. It could be arranged that you would just wither and fade on your own. Not how I would do it.” Bargaining. It sounded like bargaining, when she’d come with every intention of threatening. If she was honest, she’d come with every intention of putting him down. But with each step closer he took, she had to fight to keep from running.

Fire licked up her arms to the elbows, but her heart pounded. She couldn’t deny that death was a draw. She wanted to kill him, and fall against him while she did it.

“You don’t want this,” she said. “Trust me. Or go see for yourself; Hera’s frozen stone face tells the story way better than I can.” She felt his cold again, and resented it, forced more heat into her hands. But he didn’t heed her warning.

“I’m not afraid. Touch me.” He smiled slightly. “Anywhere you want.”

She almost laughed, and almost slapped him across the face. He wouldn’t give in, and she wouldn’t be stalked through the house like a cornered rabbit.

“Just a little bit,” she whispered. “Just enough so you’ll know what your eventual death will feel like.”

“But not enough to turn me to dust?”

“Not while I still need you.” He was close enough that she could feel his breath. She could smell his cologne.

“A preview then,” he said, inches away. “Do I need to make you angry?”

“You’ve been doing that all night.” She studied his exposed skin. Her eyes moved over his angular face, down his neck, to his chest, or at least what was visible above his shirt buttons. “Roll up your sleeve.” Something passed across his features. Disappointment? But then it was gone, and he rolled his shirt up to the elbow. Cassandra flexed her fingers. It would feel good for the heat to have somewhere to go. She wondered what would happen to his flesh beneath her hand. He seemed so cold that perhaps he’d crack into layers of frozen meat and skin.

Look into his eyes when you do it. Don’t be a coward.

Her fingers curled around his wrist. She’d only hold him until he screamed. Waves pulsed out of her and into him; she thought of the feathers blossoming out of Athena like a bracelet. Maybe Thanatos would just decay. Maybe when she drew her hand away most of his wrist would come with it, oozing and stuck to her fingers. She looked into his eyes.

And he looked back into hers. Nothing happened. The shock extinguished her like a bucket of water. For a second she squeezed his wrist harder; tried to will it to break. But it held.

Thanatos shrugged.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said, rolling his sleeve back down. “It was impossible. You can’t kill Death. Though I’ll admit, I was curious. And this begs the question of what you’re going to do with Atropos.…”

He turned away, and Cassandra backed up quickly. Her heels skidded until she ran into the sofa and stumbled to a sit. She couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t even make him sweat, while he could kill anything with a kiss. With a thought. And she was alone with him in his house.

“Calypso!”

“Don’t!” Thanatos held up his hands. “Everything’s fine. I don’t want to hurt you, Cassandra. I never wanted to hurt you. But don’t make Calypso come running. I suspect she’s been skinny-dipping this whole time.” He made a face, reconsidering. “On second thought, do call her.”