Half a dozen spears appeared in his peripheral, all pointed at him. He'd made a threatening move toward their queen, and Myrine wasn't lying about one thing: vrykolakas were much faster than a satyr. Their preternatural speed had him at a huge disadvantage. If she so much as gave them a nod, he would be dead.
"Stand down," Myrine said, never lowering her gaze from his. "The satyr wishes to prove himself to us this day. We will see exactly what sort of man, or beast, he is…" her focus shifted down his bare chest before shooting back to his face. "On the field of battle."
"And my panpipes?"
"Pull through the fight and perhaps we'll return your belongings to you."
Chrys let her go and took a step back. "I won't let you down."
"See that you don't." With those words, Queen Myrine turned her back on him and sauntered away. His body mourned her loss. He'd prove himself to her all right, and after battle, when they were victorious, well…he'd prove himself to her another way too. If she'd have him.
And from the heated glances she'd given his body, she might.
"Glamour up," Pan said and pulled out his phone. We need to be out there searching for Theron in case he didn't use up all the false ambrosia in one place."
Adonis cast his eyes downward, hating that he would have to admit needing help to use panpipes for the first time. He couldn't stand looking inferior to the others. Not after finally getting them to trust him. What if they threw him out the moment Theron was dealt with because he couldn't do what the rest of them could?
He ground his teeth. He didn't need them, never did. He'd had to depend on himself his whole life.
And where has that gotten you?
"And take a weapon, anything you can conceal. False ambrosia doesn't just kill humans. None of you have seen what it can do to a person, and I hope tonight is no different."
"What does it do?"
Adonis glanced up at Sage, who entered the room with Daphne and London in tow. She peered at Pan with curiosity then at Adonis, waiting for an answer to her question.
Pan didn't even look at the women as he perused a collection of dirks Melancton had brought up stairs with him. "Turns them into letum. An undead corpse. Once upon a time, we thought vrykolakas were also made this way." He picked a blade up, rolled it one way and then the next, and set it back down. "Turns out that only happened with Lamia's blood specifically. But letum… it's been a long while since there's been an outbreak of those."
"And if Dionysus had false ambrosia saved for a rainy day…" London trailed off.
Pan nodded, accepting a dagger from Melancton standing next to him. "My thoughts exactly. He had to think that Priapus's blood could create them or maybe it had to be stored for an allotted amount of time or something. I'm hoping I'm wrong though."
Sage stared at them all like she wasn't understanding half of what was said. And given the subjects of the conversation, that was possible. "Zombies?"
Pan finally focused on her. "Sure, if that's the word you really want to use for them. Zombies." He shook his head. "Sounds too Hollywood if you ask me, though."
"Or sounds like what it is. Who the hell would know what letum means?"
He snorted. "Someone who knows it's a Latin term for dead."
Adonis held his breath as Sage's skin flushed red. Pan was pissing her off and wasn't even trying to. At least it wasn't him as the target for her wrath…this time. "Unless you're a scholar or summoning a demon, or an old-ass man trapped in a satyr body, who else?" she bit out.
Pan openly laughed now and turned to Adonis. "She's cute. I like her."
Adonis bit back a groan as Sage bristled. The god was in for it now. "I'm assuming you're Pan, and if so, I don't like you. Unless you fix what you did to Adonis, we don't have anything further to say to one another."
She stormed out of the room and Daphne and London looked at each other perplexed before following her. If it was wrong to find enjoyment in Pan's shocked expression, Adonis didn't want to be right. When was the last time someone didn't fawn all over him because he was a god? It also felt really good to have someone on his team. Yes, he'd had Hermes for a few months vouching for him, but with Sage…
Adonis closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He'd disappointed her enough in the few days he'd known her. He didn't want to let her down anymore, especially now that he knew she cared for him. Would stand up to an Olympian for him. He opened his eyes again, alone with the two other satyrs.
"What did I do?" Pan asked Melancton who merely lifted a brow. "Oh! Oh…right." He had the grace to appear abashed as he faced Adonis again. "How bad is it?"
"Well," Adonis started, completely deadpan. "Her being near me completely nullifies the original curse and there's a Satyr Moon tomorrow. I believe she called it a mystical E.D."
He stared at Adonis, speechless, then barked out a laugh and started coughing to cover it up. "Man, that's unfortunate."
Adonis didn't reply and didn't want to talk about it. He only glowered. Unfortunate? What an asshole. "How do the panpipes work?" He pulled the instrument out of his pocket and stared down at them. A change of subject would do them all good.
"I didn't mean to curse you," Pan said solemnly. "I was angry and mouthing off. It really wasn't on purpose."
"The panpipes…" Adonis waved the instrument in the air. "We're wasting time."
"There's not a specific tune to it. Think about what you want as you blow across the top."
Seemed easy enough. "That's it?"
"That's it," Pan confirmed.
He brought the instrument to his lips
