Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Goodbye, Hermes…Hecate.”
I push through the door and out onto the street. I wasn’t fully aware when Dionysus moved us, but it’s no surprise to find myself in the upper city warehouse district. There’s even one of the legion of black sedans sitting at the curb. I try the door and smile grimly to find it unlocked, the keys in the visor. “Thanks, Dio.”
Within minutes, I’m driving toward Juniper Bridge. I manage to awkwardly pull out my phone and dial the number Eurydice input… Was that really less than twenty-four hours ago?
She answers immediately. “Eurydice here.”
“It’s Atalanta.”
She huffs out a breath. “Yeah, I know. Did you save Hermes?”
The question nearly makes me laugh. Maybe I would if I had the breath for it. “More or less. She’s alive and free.” No telling if she’ll stay that way for long, not when she keeps seeking Circe out. “That’s not why I’m calling. In the process of extracting her, I found information Hades and the rest will want to hear. That they need to hear.”
“That’s very vague and a tough sell.”
I tighten my grip on the wheel, ignoring the burning in my shoulder as a result. It would be smart to withhold information on the condition I’m allowed through the barrier, but I’m too tired to drive a hard bargain. “Circe has a team in the lower city, which I know you all were aware of. They’re not only there to threaten Persephone and the others; they’re searching for the base in order to bring down the barrier permanently.”
She curses. “Wait on your side of the bridge. I’ll talk to Hades.”
“Will do.” As I approach the bridge, I see more and more people on the streets. They clog the sidewalks and edge out onto the road. I slow to try to get a gauge of what’s going on.
Which is when someone throws a rock at my windshield, spidering a break across the glass. “Fuck!”
I dial Eurydice again, and this time I don’t wait for her to speak to start in. “There’s a crowd on my side of the bridge and they’re getting violent.”
“Shit, okay. I’ll call the people on our side. Head for the barrier now.”
If she doesn’t get me permission to cross, this is about to be a special kind of agony. I hesitate…until the second rock—no, not a rock, a fucking brick—breaks my windshield entirely. Cold air slaps me in the face as the glass drops in a giant chunk onto my dashboard. I get snippets of people yelling at me, but I can’t make out their words over the rushing in my ears.
If they’re blocking the barrier, I’m going to have to choose between getting out of my car and running them down. There’s no space for retreat, not when the crowd is bleeding onto the street behind me, blocking any attempt to reverse without casualties.
I keep moving forward, unwilling to floor it, so I’m forced to an agonizing crawl. The crowd gets out of my way, but slowly. The bridge itself is my savior—the crowd can’t breach the barrier that spans the River Styx and seems reluctant to be pinned against it. That’s something at least.
“I really hope you got me permission, Eurydice.” After the briefest hesitation, I climb out of the car and slide around to the front to keep it between me and the crowd. The people closest watch me with hate-filled eyes. I don’t recognize a single one of them, but it doesn’t matter. They don’t hate me on a personal level. They hate me for who I’m connected to, for what I represent.
One of them, a white man with a shaved head and frenetic energy about him, steps forward. “Get her!”
I’m in the process of deciding if I need to fight my way through, get back in the car, or—
Hands wrap around my waist and pull me back through the barrier. Trying to pass the greater barrier used to result in a zap that occasionally killed people. I have no idea if this one is strong enough for that, but it would be a special kind of fuckery for me to die like this.
I hold my breath as I pass through. It prickles against my skin in a sensation that’s almost unpleasant, but it’s over quickly enough. The person who grabbed me releases me instantly and takes a step back. “Atalanta.”
“That’s me.” I can’t help glancing back at the barrier. It’s not opaque, but there’s a film between us and the crowd. I’ve never been more grateful for a damned Olympian barrier than I am in this moment. “I have news.”
“They’re expecting you at the main house.” They jerk their thumb over their shoulder. “There’s a car waiting for you. Don’t try to go anywhere else.”
“I won’t.” It’s almost like déjà vu to climb behind the wheel of yet another black sedan, to drive the same path, to park the car in nearly the same spot, to walk to the front door and be escorted to the same office where nearly the same combination of people waits for me—except for Eurydice. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one. At least I’m here.