Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(111)

Drex turned and sprinted away from them.

What is he doing? I looked at Kharon with confusion.

Alexis screamed as she covered her mouth, shaking from fear.

Kharon rolled his eyes and lazily stood up. “Just … stab them!” he yelled in a bored tone like it was obvious (it was).

Unfortunately, Drex was not the brightest.

Thirty minutes later, the gate opened. “End of the round,” Zeus announced with exasperation.

Two very unstabbed Chimeras were panting with exhaustion as they chased Drex around the sand. I had to give it to the kid, he had stamina.

For the last half hour, he’d managed to run around and avoid both beasts. However, he had zero killing prowess and was a disappointment in every other way that mattered.

Drex zigged left quickly—and one of the beasts tumbled to the right as they tried to follow.

There was a smattering of laughter in the crowd.

Technically, a round ended after thirty minutes and you could leave the arena, but you’d lose.

No uninjured Chthonic had ever chosen that route.

Because we had pride.

And weren’t pathetic.

“RUN—you got this!” Alexis shouted as Drex hauled it toward the open gate.

He definitely does not.

Drex dove out of the stadium, and there was another smatter of applause and laughter. Olympian guards ran out with guns. Pop. Pop. Both Chimeras dropped dead, bullets through their eyes.

The crowd clapped as the bodies were dragged away.

Zeus shook his head and jumped from the platform through the force field, landing in the sand.

Guards escorted Drex back out into the arena.

Zeus walked toward the boy with Vulcan metal in his hand.

People shouted that it wasn’t necessary as boos echoed all around. Apparently, Sparta felt bad for the Olympian mutt; he didn’t deserve to suffer, not like us.

“Two labors lost,” Zeus announced with a sigh.

He waited patiently as the boy pulled open the top of his toga.

Zeus stepped back and pointed the circular metal over his exposed chest—his outstretched arm brightened with sparks, metal turning yellow in his fingers—he placed the brands on his skin in quick succession.

Drex screamed in agony.

The crowd winced in sympathy.

Zeus put his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he whispered something to him with an encouraging smile, like he was trying to make amends.

Drex sneered back at him, his expression openly hostile.

Maybe we’ll make a Chthonic of him after all.

Zeus gestured for Drex to walk forward, then followed behind him out of the stadium.

Everyone stood to leave.

As our section exited, I gave Helen a big hug.

I mouthed silently over her shoulder at Charlie, “You better be sleeping on the floor.”

He nodded vigorously, looking aghast at the insinuation of impropriety.

Relief coursed through me as I reluctantly released Helen.

I would never admit it aloud, but I was grateful she had Charlie; I saw the way he looked after her. He was a good kid.

The way he grew up was criminal.

Alexis leaned into me as I escorted her to the symposium.

They deserved so much better.

Drex arrived a few minutes after us, looking mostly unharmed. Bandages peeked out from beneath his toga. They’d clearly just given him medical treatment, then released him.

“Drex!” Alexis called when she saw him, releasing my arm and running over to him.

The boy smiled when he saw her, and they fell into conversation at the edge of the room.

Kharon started to stalk after her, but I held him back.

“He’s just her friend,” I reminded him (and myself) calmly.

“I fucking hate him.”

“I know.”

That night in bed, the three of us didn’t say anything as Kharon and I held Alexis between us.

The unspoken reality hung in the air.

Tomorrow—it was Kharon’s turn to fight.

SGC DAY 11

It was another bright summer’s day in the coliseum.

Thank you, Kronos.

Zeus couldn’t use his scepter to threaten Kharon during his fight. A small mercy.

I’d slept soundly, clutching Alexis to my chest. Sometime in the middle of the night, I’d wrestled her out of Kharon’s grasp and into mine.

It was the best thing I’d ever done.

Waking up to her sleepy face was like waking up to a brilliant sunset—glorious, warm, perfect.

Even now, her golden curls formed a halo around her face as she leaned close to Charlie in the row before me.

Angelus Romae.

I rubbed at my aching chest.

I wanted my arms around her like I wanted to breathe.

My woman.

The keeper of my soul.

The love I felt for her was greedy—a new sort of madness.

I tried to focus on anything but the fierce emotions gripping me.

Achilles shifted with discomfort a few seats away. The upper half of his face was covered in bruises, the skin distended and turning green.

Patro sat ramrod straight next to him, his severed tendon still wrapped in thick bandages. Achilles had a matching one around his ankle.

They’d both been mutilated.

Complicated feelings churned inside my sternum; they weren’t my favorite people right now, but they were under my charge. Achilles was a fellow victim of the House of Ares—House of Horrors, as we used to call it. They were my responsibility. My half brothers.