Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(112)
Guilt scoured me.
Hermos and Agatha sat further down, also covered in bruises.
I’ve failed all of them.
Drex made a noise in front of me, elbowing Alexis’s side as he tried to get her attention. She kept signing and whispering to Charlie.
Drex nudged her again.
I took a deep breath.
He’d been practically hanging off my wife ever since his round yesterday and was officially getting on my nerves.
Kharon wasn’t the only one with a jealousy problem.
Drex’s elbow touched the side of her arm, and Alexis turned to him with a beaming smile. They laughed together, sharing an inside joke.
Mental note: break his left elbow.
Alexis turned around and shot me a glare, like she could hear my thoughts.
I smiled back.
She frowned. “Stop it,” she said as she looked over at Drex.
“Stop what?” I mouthed with feigned confusion.
Alexis rolled her eyes and turned back around to Drex, her features soft and radiant as she talked animatedly, waving her hands.
I sighed heavily. She clearly enjoyed their friendship and would be upset if something bad were to happen to him.
Mental note: make his shattered elbow look like an accident.
Stone vibrated as the crowd began a chant.
Stomp. Clap.
“Hunter!”
Stomp. Clap.
“Hunter!”
Stomp. Clap.
“Hunter!”
Sunlight glinted off the sand, creating a harsh glare.
Kharon sauntered out in the light, Hell and Hound flanking him on either side.
Gasps echoed and the chant paused, then continued.
Sparta was not used to seeing Kharon’s hellhounds; Olympians had always called him weak, saying he was too feral to have a protector; but he didn’t have just one—he had two, and they were monstrous.
The three of them stalked in tandem, his skeleton tattoos taking on a whole new meaning.
A silver bow flashed where it was slung across his arm. Artemis stiffened in her seat as she realized.
Kharon had chosen her weapon on purpose.
She’d secretly disowned him, called him a disgrace, but the rest of Sparta thought he still represented her House.
Kharon was making a mockery of everything she stood for.
Pride filled me.
As a boy, they’d mutilated his legs and watched him crawl desperately across the sand. Then the Olympians had dragged him back into the arena, branded his chest until he passed out from pain, and left him to crawl out for a second time.
They thought they’d broken him.
But Kharon was now grinning, sauntering without a care in the world, and shoving it back in their faces. Sharp pain streaked up my knee with each of his steps, but he gave nothing away.
The stadium chanted, “House of Artemis!” with growing fervor—none of them could even comprehend the hell he’d endured.
If the House of Ares was all about physical torment, the House of Artemis was a study in psychological games.
Scarlet mist expanded around Artemis as Kharon saluted up at her.
He stopped in the middle of the arena, pulled a silver arrow from his back holster, and cocked his bow.
“House of Artemis … Hunter … House of Artemis …” The chant increased in decibel as all of Sparta joined in.
The gate slowly opened.
Squakkkkkkkk.
Leathery black and green scales slithered through the sand.
Someone shrieked.
Cracks echoed around the arena, people disappearing in clouds of smoke, as cowardly Olympians leapt away to safety.
Not again.
Hades fisted his hands with rage and shouted, “What in Kronos is this?” All the leaders stood up. Aphrodite pointed down at Zeus—“EXPLAIN YOURSELF.”
Zeus didn’t take his eyes off Kharon.
Three Typhons slithered across the sand.
The twenty-foot-long, thick-bellied serpentine beasts had monstrous beaks on their wide humanesque faces. Clap. Clap. Clap. Short leathery black wings flapped uselessly as they moved.
Class seven beasts.
Designation: kill on sight.
They lived on abandoned islands in the Adriatic Sea. At night, they infamously slithered into the water, hunting sharks that lived in underwater caves. Highly territorial and dangerous—their saliva boiled flesh.
The ultimate monsters of Sparta.
Zeus smiled, electricity zapping across his teeth as he watched them advance on Kharon.
Yes, this was war.
Squakkkkkkkk.
Kharon loosed an arrow—with perfect accuracy, it burrowed deep into one of the Typhon’s open beaks.
Green blood sprayed.
The creature gagged as it choked, tail thrashing wildly beneath it. An arrow slammed into one eye, then the other. The beast crashed down onto the sand, twitching as it choked on the weapon.
But the other two Typhons were heading directly for Kharon.
One of the Typhons spit—Kharon and both hellhounds rolled at the same time. They dodged the sizzling pile of goop melting the sand where he’d just stood.
They ran, circling around the remaining two Typhons.
Squakkkkkkkk.
Kharon unleashed another arrow straight into an open beak—a second beast choked, flailing about. Hell and Hound jumped from behind—teeth sinking deep into the creature’s serpentine neck as they mauled it.