“Once we get Gargo out of Slate, we'll be facing the same problem that got him in Slate,” I said. “He'll be loose.”
“So, even if we can find a way to destroy him, we first need a way to contain him,” Banning concluded.
“But if we had a way to contain him, we wouldn't need to destroy him,” Gage pointed out.
“But we do have a way to contain him.” I looked at Darcraxis. “Temporarily.”
“The Shining One blade,” Darc murmured. “It's meant for transfer but it should be able to hold Gargo until we can set off a bomb.”
“The bomb will likely destroy the knife as well,” I warned him.
“That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.”
“What if we need it again.” I widened my eyes at him pointedly.
Both of our God magics had been growing; they were what had prompted the RS's growth. It was possible that the power wouldn't affect us beyond that, but that was more likely with Darc. With me, there was a greater risk that I might become Faenestra again.
“If we have to, we'll figure out a way to make a new knife,” Darc promised. “Right now, we have a tool that can help us, and I don't think we should let the possibility of something happening in the future prevent us from using it.”
“And the best part is; if we use the knife, we won't have to ask Lucifer for help,” Banning pointed out.
I chuckled and shook my head; partially because I agreed with him.
“What knife?” Verin asked.
“It was created by the Shining Ones to imprison their Gods,” I explained. “It was what they used to sever my soul and collect the powerful part of it. Then they plunged the knife into an orb of Darc's magic, trapping that part my soul inside, and sent the rest of me into a human body to reincarnate over and over.”
Verin made a low sound of surprise.
“It was meant to be a punishment but it ended up being the best thing to ever happen to me. I saw life from another perspective; one of the creation instead of the creator.” I slid my gaze to Darc and smiled softly. “Darcraxis never needed that; he always understood them better than me. He always loved them. I suppose that's why they left him whole.”
“You loved them too,” Darc protested. “In your own way.”
I snorted. “A vicious way. But the point is; the knife was made to trap God magic—a God soul, in particular—and then transfer it into a prison.”
“Is it safe to use this Shining One knife on Slate?” Verin asked.
I went still as I stared at Darc again. “Fuck. I hadn't gotten there yet.”
“I know,” Darc said grimly. “We could end up killing him.”
“The knife must be inserted into the victim's heart,” I explained to Verin. “The last time we used it, it was on me. I obviously survived but only because Faenestra had grown in power to the point where she had altered my body to be immortal; divinely immortal, not just resistant to time. I healed the wound.”
“Couldn't Slate do the same?” Verin asked. “He's possessed by a God too.”
“I doubt it.” I swallowed roughly. “Poseidon took weeks to be changed by Gargo and it wasn't permanent; he's not immortal like us.”
“But Poseidon wasn't a proper host for the Gargoyle God,” Darc reminded me. “Gargo will change Slate faster than Poseidon and don't forget; he's likely been inside Slate for months now.”
I paled as I began to consider what that meant; all of those intimate moments with Slate had been shared with Gargo.
“El?” Gage took my hand. “It'll be all right. We're going to free Slate and kill that bastard inside him.”
“I should have known,” I lamented and dropped my gaze to my lap. “Slate was saying some strange things; musing about love and how odd it was as if he'd never felt it before.”
“What?” Darc leaned in to ask. “He was talking to you about love?”
“Gargo said that Slate's affecting him,” Banning reminded us. “Do you think he's having feelings for Elaria?”
“I do,” Darc growled. “But Gargo is a psychopath; a God driven insane by centuries of imprisonment... if he wasn't already insane, to begin with. Believe me; I know what solitary confinement can do to a mind, even a God mind. Whatever Gargo's feeling for Elaria, it will be twisted; a mockery of love.”
“You came through it all right,” Declan pointed out.
“I loved Elaria before I was imprisoned; we were married and joined in the way of Gods,” Darcraxis reminded him. “I had her to sustain me; I lived through her, experiencing pieces of her life through our bond. But, if you'll recall, when she first released me, I wasn't as reasonable as I am now. Or as accommodating.”
“No, but that was because you were a God, not a psycho.” Gage smirked.
“It doesn't matter what Gargo's feeling,” I hissed. “Fuck him and his feelings. I just want him gone but not if it's going to kill Slate.”
“That's what I was saying, my fire.” Darc leaned forward and took my hand. “I don't believe it will. You saw the control Gargo has over Slate's body; the way he lengthened his claws. Slate wasn't able to do that before. I think his body has already become immortal.”
“And if it's not?” I countered.
“Then you'll sing him back to life as you did with me,” Gage said confidently.
Verin made another sound of astonishment and looked at me askance.
“I didn't sing him back to life,” I protested. “Gage was gravely injured and I healed him.”
“I was nearly gone, El,”
