Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
My sister gives me a long look. “That’s more dangerous for you.”
I know. A danger I’m willing to take on to spare her. “Go.”
I wait two eternal minutes and then slip down the side of the hill and come at them from the side. The blond with a head full of curly hair and light-brown skin sees me first and shoots to her feet. I already have my gun out. “Hands up.”
For a moment, I think they won’t obey, but Helen steps forward from behind them, her gun drawn as well. “Try to be a hero, end up a martyr.”
The women exchange a look I can’t read and slowly raise their hands. I nod at my sister. “Pat them down.”
She makes quick work of it, tossing away two guns and four knives. She also pulls out zip ties from her jacket and fastens their hands behind their backs, one by one. It takes seconds. Helen places her hands on their shoulders and guides them to their knees, and only then does she give me her attention. “Demeter needs to know, but I don’t like the idea of marching them back like this.”
She’s right, and not only because there are four of them and two of us. The last thing we want is to cause a panic. “Call in Achilles and Patroclus and transport these three back to the city for questioning. I’ll take this one to Demeter.” I jerk my chin at the blond, who glares up at me with a fury that makes my skin prickle.
For a moment, I think Helen might argue, but she finally nods and pulls out her phone. While she calls Patroclus, I crouch before the blond. “This is the beginning of the end for you and Circe. We have you right where we want you.”
If anything, her fury seems to grow. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
Helen hangs up. “They’ll be here in five. They aren’t far off from our position now.”
It’s the longest five minutes of my life. I want nothing more than to rush back to Callisto and whisk her to the city. I don’t care if she hates me; I’m shutting her in our penthouse until we get to the bottom of exactly how many of Circe’s people have infiltrated the civilian camp.
The moment Achilles and Patroclus arrive, out of breath and damn near sprinting, I slip out of my coat and drape it over the blond’s shoulders, pausing to zip it up. It looks odd, but it’s less eye-catching than the zip ties. I haul her to her feet. “Let’s go.” The sooner I deliver her to Demeter, the sooner I can get my wife to safety.
26
Hera
I don’t bother to try to find Psyche before hunting down my mother. As much as I value Psyche’s perspective, she’s not in the position of having a direct connection to a title—thank the gods. I need our mother to listen to me, and I need her to do it now.
Besides, if I see Psyche, she’s going to want to finish our conversation about my pregnancy, and I have no more answers now than I did a few days ago. My feelings just get more complicated with each hour that passes. No matter what happens, I have to ensure there’s a world for my little parasite to grow up in.
The surge of protectiveness sets me back on my heels and has me pressing my hand to my stomach despite my determination not to give any indication of anything being different. It’s strange how quickly things change.
I find my mother presiding over what I can only term as a war room. There’s a massive round table she must have hauled out here from the country house, so large it takes up half the space. On it is what appears to be a very accurate representation of the encampment and its resources. My mother is speaking softly with one of her advisors, a white person with a shock of red hair whose name escapes me.
The moment she sees me, she waves them away with an impatient flip of her fingers. “Come here right this instant and let me see you.” She rounds the table as I walk to meet her and then her hands are on my shoulders, turning me this way and that as she examines me critically. Her expression falls and she pulls me into a tight hug. “Gods, I was so worried about you. I’ve spoken with Persephone, but our conversation was too brief to get all the details. What happened?”
This is the moment. That text message from an unknown number is a grim reminder of how high the stakes are. My mother loves power, but I’m about to wager on the hope that she loves us more. I wish I could be certain of how those scales will balance. “We need to talk.”