Sentinel

“Seth,” I hissed, shooting him a look.

“That’s okay,” Apollo replied, smiling at Seth in a wholly creepy “hide your kids” kind of way. “When you least expect it, I’m going to turn you into a pink flower that smells like cat pee.”

I choked on my laugh. “Oh, my gods…”

Seth’s eyes narrowed into thin, amber slits, but before he could volley back, a whole different conversation sprouted out of the depths of my very own personal hell.

“I’m sorry.” Marcus was leaning against the desk, looking a bit green. “Am I the only one stuck on the fact that these two thought they might’ve been…that you could’ve been…that there might have been…?”

“That we could’ve made you a great-uncle,” I supplied since he’d obviously run out of words. His eyes narrowed, and heat spread across my cheeks. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

“I second that,” Aiden muttered, shifting awkwardly.

“I disagree.” Apollo’s “hide your kids” smile was now spreading across his face. “This conversation is going to be epically entertaining.”

“For you.” Aiden cut him a dark look.

“Exactly,” the god replied.

Marcus ignored that. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told you two that you shouldn’t be sharing a room.” He turned to me. “I don’t care how old you are or that you’re an Apollyon, Alexandria. You’re my niece; therefore, I am responsible for you. And you?” He spun on Aiden, whose eyes widened. “You know better.”

“Oh my gods,” I moaned. I rather have run naked through the quad then had this conversation both with my uncle and with an audience. Especially with this audience.

“Don’t ‘oh my gods’ me.” The color had returned to Marcus’ face. It was red. “Do I really need to have a conversation with you about responsible sexual activity?”

Seth looked like he wanted to shove a dagger in his eye.

“I think you do,” Apollo suggested.

“Oh! You’re one to talk!” I whirled on Apollo. “Seriously? If I was to Google ‘irresponsible sexual activity,’ it would be your picture staring back at me!”

Apollo made a face at me—actually made a face at me like he was ten years old or something.

Marcus was now staring at Aiden like he wanted to take his dagger and use it on Aiden in an area much lower than the eyeballs.

“Okay, can we move on to the important stuff?” I demanded, losing my patience. “If not, then this is wasting my time, and I’m going to bed. That just might include irresponsible sex, because I’ve had a really crappy day!”

Five sets of eyes settled on me. One set was particularly interested in what I had just said.

“What?” I rolled my eyes, scowling. “Get on with it.”

Apollo sent Seth one more scathing look, which I was sure wouldn’t be the last one directed at the First. “As I said, we need a plan, and although I have many talents…”

For some reason, I couldn’t help but look at Deacon. He flushed.

“I am not a strategist, not like Ares.”

The look on Seth’s face said he was wondering why Apollo was here then, but before he could vocalize that opinion, another fissure of energy whipped through the air. The aether in my veins hummed, and the marks raced to the surface. Seth and I stiffened in anticipation.

A shimmery blue form appeared and then solidified beside Apollo. A second before, there had been nothing but a glittery waterfall, and now there was a tall brunette woman dressed in a tailored business suit. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun, which did nothing to lessen the ethereal beauty of her face. In her slim, almost delicate- looking hands, she held a rolled parchment.

Gods were like opossums. You could go your whole life without seeing one, but once you found one of them, you found the whole freaky family.

Every pure in the room bowed, leaving Seth and me standing straight like two douches. We apparently were a little slow on the show of respect. The goddess didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Athena, please meet the, uh…Army of Awesome.” Apollo arched a brow. “Or whatever they are calling themselves.”

The goddess of wisdom, strategy, and a whole slew of other things inclined her head. “Nice title.”

“Nice suit,” I said, my gaze dipping to her pointy heels.

Her all-white eyes centered on me, and one side of her lips tipped up. “I picked it up at Saks along with this amazing leather satchel and these to-die-for shoes.”

“Oh.” I slid Aiden a glance. He studiously ignored me. “They’re very nice, too.”

She strode forward, placing the parchment on the desk. Marcus swallowed and stepped to the side, giving the goddess a wide berth. It was a map. A really crudely drawn map of trees, mountains that looked like upside- down Vs, and stick people. Apparently, drawing was not one of Athena’s skills. “The plan, and I assume that has not changed,” she paused, passing an arched look between Seth and me, “will require the God Killer to get close to Ares. Currently, he’s camped out—”

“In the Catskills,” Seth interrupted, and I thought of my father. He was there. Seth came forward, eyeing the map. “He’s got around the same number of Sentinels that I have here with me, plus mortals. All of them are under compulsion.”

“Ares’ compulsion?” Marcus asked, and when Seth nodded, my uncle sighed. “There’s no way to break a compulsion from a god, is there?”

“Not unless you take out the god, or so we assume,” Apollo said. “Dionysus has confirmed that the mortal encampment is several miles out from the Catskills.”

“We would have to get past them, and then get through the walls of the New York Covenant, which are guarded by Sentinels.” Seth tapped his finger along what appeared to be an uneven brick wall, squinting. “But that’s not all. Ares is heavily guarded.”

“Guarded by what?” I asked.

“Daimons,” Seth said, looking away. “And you know how he’s controlling them.”

My stomach roiled. I did. He was feeding them pures and probably halfs—dinner in exchange for loyalty. I remembered the days when the Council didn’t believe daimons could reason. Now the daimons had most likely drained those Council members dry.

“And the automatons.” Athena glanced at Apollo. “Hephaestus has completely lost control of them.”

The god sighed. “Don’t start.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I warned all of you that using them was a bad idea. We had no idea what god was responsible for this, and using a creature designed for war without such knowledge was a poor plan.”

It was. The half-machine, half-bull fire-breathing creatures had turned on us and were now under Ares’ control.

“So not only will your…” Her nose wrinkled. “Your Army of Awesome have to get past the mortals, they will have to face Sentinels, daimons and automatons before even reaching Ares.”

Aiden folded his arms. “That is, if he doesn’t come after us the moment we set foot out of the University.”

“He won’t.” Athena tapped her finger down on a square, which I assumed was the Covenant building. “He knows how heavily entrenched he is, and moving an army would make him vulnerable to attack. Before the First left him, he would’ve risked it. But not now that he knows the God Killer is coming for him. He will remain where he is and wait for you to come to him. He knows you will suffer losses in the process.”

The truth weighed heavily. We would suffer losses.

“Getting past the mortals will not be hard,” she continued. “The loss of their lives will be unfortunate, but we have to sacrifice the few to save the many. Then there are the Sentinels, daimons and automatons, but it is fighting Ares that will take everything.”

“We can’t just zap him with a God Killer bolt and call it a day?” I asked.

Athena arched a brow. “It’s not like he’s going to stand still and allow you to do that, and we know what happened last time you faced off with him.”