I grabbed another drink from the shifty-looking butler as I made my way to the other side of the party. Derelict warehouse? Only one waiter? Whoever was in charge of throwing the event definitely sucked. It was like someone said gala, and they’d thought they meant apples, and still ended up bringing in Market Fresh.
I tilted my head slightly, smirking. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t have texted you, Atë.” I waved my hand dismissively before she could counter. “What or who helps you when you’re…feeling…ragey…unhinged…unbalanced?”
A sigh slipped past my lips, my fingers flexing in frustration as I contemplated trying to figure out what everyone had been up to. Rules, while needed for balance, were usually established because of imbalance and mayhem. What the hell had been happening around this place?
“Atë, this seems like a conversation we probably shouldn’t have in the lobby.” I paused, then continued after deciding to answer her question. “I remember BDZ disappointing me as much as the mortals and justice becoming a game. What side of that game are you on?”
I nodded slowly and walked to the Jeep. As I climbed in, I locked eyes with his. They were eyes I’d recently started, and ended, so many days gazing into. “You have twenty minutes, thirty if there’s traffic, to convince me the apple fell far from the tree, or I’m burning down the whole damn orchard.”
Dikê. Goddess of Justice.
Yes, the chick with the scales. I’m around to make sure mortals play fair with one another according to the rules and lawful decrees. When they don’t, I step in and handle the situation. Yes, that could involve making it messy, aka bloody.
Equity comes at a price.
Balance is worth the cost.