Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(131)

“BETRAYER!” Poseidon shouted, pointing at Zeus across the kneeling room.

Kharon and Augustus were nearing the exposed leader.

Zeus shook his head, eyes darting around with shock as the Olympian and Chthonic leaders closed in on him.

“STOP,” Hades ordered.

Kharon lunged.

Crack.

Smoke billowed around Kharon.

The space where Zeus had stood was empty. He’d leapt away.

Bodies were prostrated all around.

The leader of the federation had fled.

I did it. I’d calculated the odds correctly—math had yet to fail me.

Fate tipped her head back, the pipe falling from her lips. Her voice deepened, reverberating through the room. “At this century’s turn! All of Sparta applauds. The federation falls to the exposer of gods.”

Hades’s fog receded.

“The prophecy is fulfilled!” someone screamed, and once again, all hell broke loose.

In the yelling chaos, cracks echoing as people leapt away, Lena’s pastel eyes met mine.

“Thank you,” I shouted.

She smiled, disappearing into the stampede of fleeing bodies.

Sparta had reason to panic.

Just like Rome, the House of Zeus had fallen.

Persephone beamed across the room at me with pride, and next to her, Aphrodite tipped her head to me as she clapped.

My chest prickled.

A crack in my peripheral vision brought me back to reality—Patro and Achilles had just leapt away.

Crap.

I jumped off the speaker, Nyx slithered up my arm, and I dropped my rod to the floor as I pushed through the crowd.

“Alexis!” Kharon shouted. People cried out as he violently shoved them aside, trying to reach me.

“Kharon! Augustus!” I fought to get to them.

More screams echoed.

Finally—the three of us collided.

“We need to get to the villa right now. It’s urgent—Helen’s room!” I said in a rush.

Augustus nodded and grabbed both of us.

The world once again disappeared.

“Ceres,” I screamed with warning as we landed amongst pink lace. “Patro knows about you!”

But the adjoining door was ajar, and voices were shouting in the other room.

We were too late.





47


THE IMPERSONATOR IS REVEALED




ALEXIS

Smoke swirled in sinister tendrils.

Starlight shone through the long windows, framing the towering mountain ranges that hugged the Lake Como banks.

Time slowed as I ran into the adjoining bedroom.

I skidded to a stop, books flying at my feet. Kharon and Augustus bumped against my arms as all three of us took in the scene.

There were strange symbols written with ink across the walls, textbooks were strewn everywhere, pages pulled out, their margins covered in drawings.

A male voice shouted something vulgar.

“This isn’t good, kid,” Nyx hissed from my shoulders.

I turned toward the noise, the throbbing in my eye and side increasing—three people stood in the corner of the room.

Ceres tucked her left arm against her body, hiding it under the long sleeves of her oversized purple T-shirt.

Her cheeks were flushed with anger.

Patro was snarling in her face, his right arm pinning her against the wall.

They stood toe-to-toe, shouting.

Achilles stood sentinel behind Patro with his arms crossed.

Ceres had recovered to a healthy weight, but Patro still stood a head taller than her, dwarfing her curvy stature.

“Snake scum,” Patro snarled down at Ceres, his voice cruel.

There was a blur of purple—a loud crack echoed and we all gasped—she’d punched him in the face.

Patro touched his bloody lip. “Oh, you bitch.”

Achilles yanked Patro behind him protectively.

“Better a bitch … than a coward.” Ceres arched her brow, standing on her tiptoes to peer at Patro around Achilles. “You just hide behind him—he’s your little guard dog. All you ever do is corner me and accuse me of things you have no idea about. You’re all bluster.”

At little, Achilles stood up straighter. At dog, he cracked his knuckles.

Wait, Patro’s cornered her before?

“You have no idea how much worse I could be.” Patro bared his teeth. “How dare you speak to him with such—”

“How dare you—” Ceres cut him off “—speak to me like you have some authority over me. You think you can just come in here and accuse me of—”

“I’m not accusing,” Patro said. “I know what you are. I’ve always known you were a dirty fucking liar who needed to be—”

“You play the fool.” Ceres pointed at him. “Careful, predetermination doesn’t smile kindly on those who spit in the face of people with the foresight to—”

“I know all about your kind,” Patro said, and for a second, his face twisted with angst, then he masked it.

Ceres sized Achilles up, like she was debating taking him on, so she could throw another punch at Patro.

Achilles arched an eyebrow, daring her to try it.

“What’s going on here?” Augustus’s voice cracked like a whip.