Dom was quiet for a long moment.

I picked up the mirrored pendant and held it away from my chest so I could see his face. “You know I’m right. I can’t stop until the board tells me what I need to know. Dorman may have the infection contained for now, but who’s to say that’ll last? And if it gets out . . .”

“Perhaps you are right,” Dom acceded, his shadowed, silvery stare hard. “But taking on the Ouroboros board on your own is suicide. They’ll be watching for you now. They’ll be waiting.”

I smirked. “Who said anything about taking them on alone?”

“I don’t count.”

I sent him an air kiss. “Come on, Dom, you’re worth a thousand allies.” I shrugged one shoulder. “But I wasn’t talking about you.”

Dom shook his head slowly. “Then to whom, may I ask, were you referring?”

I blinked my lashes several times, eyes opened wide with mock innocence. “Why, the most powerful Nejeret on earth, of course.”

“You can’t trust Nik,” Dom said, voice flat and cold. “He’s unstable. His mind snapped when he fought with Re.”

“Pffft,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “‘Unstable’ is my middle name.”

“I’m serious, Kat.”

I stared at him for a moment, considering his warning. He only used my name when shit was about to get real. Or had already gotten real. Or was in the middle of the whole “real” situation. Regardless, his use of my name was really fucking notable. Plus, he kind of had a point about Nik and the whole “instability” thing.

Nik had shared his body with the old god Re for thousands of years. Their coexistence had been peaceful, collaborative, even, until two decades ago, when the two beings had their first—and last—disagreement. Over whether I should die. Re snapped—like, literally lost his marbles and went full-on psycho—and Nik entered into some sort of an internal battle with him, leaving their souls deadlocked and his physical body comatose. When the new gods finally pulled Re’s soul from Nik’s body a few years back, Nik regained consciousness . . . and promptly vanished. He’d been in the wind ever since. Until two weeks ago, when he showed up in my shop with news of Dom’s disappearance. Part of me was still holding my breath, waiting for him to disappear once more.

Nik might be the most powerful living being on earth, but it was entirely possible that Dom was right and that his mind was broken. Which would also make him the most dangerous being on earth.

“I need him,” I told Dom. “There’s no one else.”

“There’s you,” he said. “In this case, going it alone might be the better option.”

I shook my head slowly, sadly. “Not this time.” My partnership with Mari had soured near the end, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. I preferred to work alone. Thrived on it. But this time, I knew I wouldn’t be enough, and my days of suicide missions were over. I gave a shit about what happened to me.