Richelle Mead: Succubus Shadows

“Yes,” I said, kissing the top of his head. “I promise. I won’t leave you again.”

A small smile played over his lips, and he allowed his lids to close. He snuggled against me, body relaxing. “The world…” he said softly, as sleep began taking him. “You are the world, Letha….”

I stiffened.

“What did you say?”

My voice was too loud, jarring enough to momentarily startle him out of the slumber his body now longed for. “Hmm? I said you were the world, Georgina.” He gave a small yawn.

“That’s not what you called me,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

“What did I call you? Thetis?” Oh, if only. If only it had been his nickname for me.

“You called me…Letha.”

He fought to keep his eyes open and yawned again. “Why would I have said that?”

“I…don’t know. Where did you hear it?”

Yes, indeed. Where would he have heard my name? Hardly anyone knew it. Greater immortals knew it, and that was pretty much it. The only lesser immortals who did were Niphon and Kristin, who’d had access to my records. I was pretty sure they’d never told my other immortal friends. I was confident they’d never told Seth.

Seth’s brow furrowed a little, then smoothed as he closed his eyes again. “Don’t know. Greek myths, I guess. The River Lethe, where the dead go to wash away the memories from their souls…to forget the past. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” I said, scarcely breathing. Where did he pull that name from?

“Letha, Lethe…” I could barely hear him now. “Almost the same.”

“Almost,” I agreed. My voice was nearly as inaudible as his. My name. He shouldn’t have known my name. A panic I couldn’t explain began fluttering within me.

Something about my mood must have still penetrated his haze because he stirred slightly, though his eyes remained closed. There was worry in his drowsy words.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Get some rest.”

Where had he heard my name? Minutes ago I’d been on fire. Now I felt cold.

“You sure?” he murmured. “Everything’s okay?” He exhaled deeply, and I felt him succumb to sleep with those last words.

“Fine,” I said, staring off into the night. “Everything’s fine.”