Cassandra laughed bitterly, and pointed her finger at him.

“See, why couldn’t I foresee that? You, jumping out of that alley. At least that would be something I could use!”

His shoulders slumped. He frowned. For a second she wished he wouldn’t care so much, so she could complain about things he couldn’t fix without feeling guilty.

“Why did you leave the theater?”

“Why do you think?” She put her fists to her temples. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap. It’s just driving me crazy.” She peered up at him. “How did you find me?”

“I wasn’t far away. It just took some looking.”

“You’re not stalking me, are you?”

“A little. But it’s warranted. Come here.” He held his arms out and she went. He folded her into his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Aidan, I’ve never wanted to stop anything so badly. I’ve never seen anything that felt so important. I mean, I felt horrible for your sister, but—”

“I know. It’s different. But it’s the same. You can’t stick your neck out. You can’t be found.”

He was so warm. She twined her cold fingers under his shirt.

“You make me feel safe.”

He sighed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it shames me, that I can’t protect you from them. From this.” He drew back and looked into her eyes. “But I’m trying.”

“I don’t blame you. This isn’t your fault.”

“You’re so cold.”

Waves of heat flowed from him into her, through her chest down to her toes and fingertips. Like sunlight. A safe spot she could curl up in. She pulled free.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just, don’t do that right now. I want to be cold. I want to walk in the dark until I can’t feel my toes.”

“You want to suffer, because you can’t save them.”

“I deserve that. I don’t even know who they are.”

But I’m the reason they’ll die.

She was sure of it as soon as the shock of the initial vision wore off. Those women, whoever they were, would die at the hands of gods who were looking for her.

Cassandra paced. She seethed. She wanted to pummel the cement of the building beside them until her knuckles bled and her hands were broken.

I don’t want to hide. I want to save them.

She took a deep, slow breath, and clenched her teeth. More even than saving them, she wanted to stop the gods. Grind them into paste if she had to. Sudden heat tingled in the palms of her hands, and she shook them in the cold air.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Always.”

“Part of me wants the explosion to happen. So it can be over. A small part. Because—”

“Because every hour that passes until then is like walking in a shadow.” Aidan nodded. “Because at least once it’s over, you won’t be able to do anything about it anymore.”

Cassandra nodded. Of course he understood. He always understood.

And he would. He’s so wise. He’s a god.

The sudden bitterness of the thought caught her by surprise. The knowledge of the explosion had kept her from thinking too much about Aidan and what he was. But she realized she hadn’t kissed him since the night he’d told them the truth.

I will. Just not now.

He gestured with his head and shoulder down the alley. So harmless looking, with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Can I walk you home now?”

10

SCATTER

Weeping. Weeping, they were all weeping. Celine, Mareden, and the third witch, a petite brunette creature called Estelle. Athena stood to the side with Hermes and Odysseus, trying to not be annoyed. Trying to be patient and sympathetic, like she should be. God knew the witches had reason enough to cry. Reason enough to be downright hysterical. Their sisters were dead. Their home was destroyed. But Athena was angry and shaken, a combination she never wore well. After a few more seconds of watching the moaning huddle, caked with dust and dried blood from several cuts, she turned and stalked into the trees.

“Hey, wait up.”

She glanced back and saw Hermes following. He looked tired, and streaked with sweat and grime. They had run so far, left Chicago behind, the skyline dwarfed by miles of distance. Athena looked back at it from the copse of trees where they’d stopped. A plume of smoke curled up from the east side. It looked to Athena like Hera’s waving arm, bitchy and gloating.

“Fuck!”

“Sister—” Hermes held his hands up while Athena battered her fist into the bark of the nearest trunk. The tree trembled but didn’t fall.

Athena looked at her torn and bleeding knuckles in disgust. Bits of bark were embedded into the skin.

Hermes didn’t press her. She’d plant her set of bloody knuckles square in his jaw if he did. Hera had beaten them, and losing in battle was something Athena had never gotten used to. A million questions weaved through the air. How had Hera known where they were? How had she gotten so close without them knowing? Close enough to plant a bomb? But Athena didn’t have any answers.

“I want you to take them,” Athena said suddenly. “Take them and hide them. Do it well.”

“Where?”

“I don’t care where!” she screamed, then bit down on her tongue when she heard the cries of the witches sharply cut off. They had so many reasons to be afraid. They didn’t need to be afraid of her too.

Celine’s potion had started to wear off, and the wound in her mouth throbbed. The wounds on her knuckles throbbed. It seemed she could feel the point of every impact that the pattern of bricks had imprinted into the flesh of her back in a hot, sore bruise. Cuts from window glass and sharp-edged steel stung in a dozen places. Evidence of her defeat. It was in every one of her wounds and in the wounds of Hermes. It was in Odysseus’ cuts and those of the witches. It was fifteen miles away, seventeen bodies broken and torn open, buried in rubble.

“I don’t care where,” she said again, this time more calmly. “Think of anywhere. Take them far away if you have to. Or let them decide. Just do it well. Make them safe.”

“There’s nowhere safe.” Hermes looked at her wildly. “Did you see that? Did you see her? She’s still a god.”

“So are we.” So are we. But not like that.

“Her and Poseidon together. Aphrodite. How are we supposed to stand against that?”

“I don’t know. But we will.”

We’ll stand. But we won’t win.

She closed her eyes and thought of Hera. Of the impact of her fist into the ground. She’d felt it all the way up to her knees. With Poseidon, Hera could take whole cities of lives, and she would. Just to sharpen her teeth. All the better to bite through Athena’s neck.

“What do we do?” Hermes looked up into the sky. “What should we do?”

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