Dead of Winter by Kresley Cole Page B

scales were right up there.
    â€œThe game makes the impossible possible.”
    Witches and angels and devils and time travel. My head spun. I needed to get back to Jack. To feed Tess.
    â€œI understand you had an eventful night.” Circe literally didn’t know the half of it. “A grand clash amid that mortal army.” She seemed to be settling in for a big fat chat.
    Was the Priestess lonely? As Death had been?
    â€œEventful,” I agreed, peering at her hand. No markings. “Doyou know what happened to the Lovers’ icon?” More of that creepy skittering sounded. I couldn’t see what was at her feet—and maybe that was a good thing?
    â€œTheir icon is right where it should be. As are the two you wear.”
    Odd way to answer. “I never want another. I plan to stop this game.”
    She tilted her head, giving me what might have been a sad smile. “You always had a high regard for yourself.”
    â€œHow would you know that? I thought no one but the Fool had memories of past lives.”
    â€œMy previous incarnation cast a spell, allowing me to relive my memories through trances. Who needs a chronicler when you have firsthand information?”
    A spell? “Are you a witch?”
    â€œIt depends who you ask,” she said wryly. “Did the Fool give you your memories? In visions and dreams?”
    â€œHe did. I’ve been accessing them slowly.”
    â€œWise. I view mine for ten minutes a day, every day without fail.”
    She came across as so disciplined and with-it. Unlike me. I could go weeks without a vision, then binge-watch. No wonder my brain felt like jelly.
    â€œWith each memory, I better appreciate how epic this game is,” she continued. “It shapes the history of gods and man, yet the Empress doesn’t want to play anymore? There’s no stopping it, Evie Greene.”
    â€œBecause it’s impossible? You just said the game makes the impossible possible. When the alternative is murdering kids, I’ve got to try.”
    â€œDid you try?” She gave my hand a knowing look.
    â€œI did.” I’d wanted to appear strong, but fatigue washed over me. “I tried so hard, Circe. It’s not murder if done in self-defense, or to defend the people you love.”
    â€œThe Empress speaks of love—and not with derision. Now I see why Death is so taken with you this game. You are not you .”
    â€œThanks?” I felt so out of it, the coyote to her roadrunner. “So why did you want to meet?”
    â€œYou’re a mystery. I concern myself with mysteries. With esoteric lore. With things that must be brought to light.”
    â€œLike the mysteries of the deep?”
    â€œJust so.” More skittering. “Another time, another place, I might have liked to know this incarnation of you.”
    â€œWhy not now? We can ally.”
    â€œWe are enemies almighty, Evie Greene.”
    â€œWere we ever allies?”
    â€œSworn allies. Oh, the games we played! I remember the forest we claimed. I had a river, and you had your green killers. How we used to laugh together! No card could challenge us—until the Emperor arrived with his ember eyes full of fire, his hands bleeding lava. He’s the one you should be targeting. Put the Lovers and your mortal male behind you.”
    Check-check on the Lovers. Leaning toward never on my mortal male. “You know about Jack?”
    â€œI hear whispers. They flow down to me like water seeking its own level. Yet I can’t figure out what you did with Death.”
    Had I been eating the lotus with Aric, uncaring that my real life was outside his castle? Before he’d captured me, I’d been a friend, a girlfriend, a granddaughter. My human life had come first.
    Did it still?
    Moving on . . . “The Emperor’s not close. I haven’t heard his call.” I couldn’t remember what it was.
    â€œBy the time you hear