Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(135)
Pain exploded in my heart and my fingers tingled with the strange pain.
“Did you assist Theros in killing all those children of the House of Zeus?” I asked.
She grunted in pain, twitching as my blood poisoned her.
“ANSWER ME!”
“It was my pleasure,” Ceres spat as she writhed in pain. “They deserved to die the—”
Sharp pain flared in my sternum, and I let the rage free.
She gurgled, unable to speak as foam dripped from her lips.
Seconds later, Ceres lay limp.
I backed away.
It was all over in seconds.
“Fantastic work, kid,” Nyx hissed on my shoulders.
I waited to feel … anything. This time, there was no satisfaction, only emptiness.
Regret welled up.
I shoved it back down—I couldn’t afford distractions—I needed to stay out of my head. I was making choices.
Turning, pulling at my hair, my thoughts raced.
The dungeon was shadowy and ominous, magnifying the feelings of doom.
Tingling fingers pressed over my chest as I tried to physically slow the racing beat of my heart.
“Breathe,” Nyx coached as I gasped in the dark.
“Alexis?” Helen whispered.
Jumping, I screamed.
Helen was kneeling on the stairway in a sparkly nightgown, holding a bedazzled Spartan gun.
“Do you need help? I woke up when you left and was worried. I saw you …” She looked from Ceres to me, mouth opening in shock.
I tried to tell her to go back to sleep, but all that came out was a pained sound.
“Let me help,” Helen said.
I pressed blood-streaked fingers to my mouth.
“Uh,” I whispered hoarsely. “I n-need t-to—” I took a deep inhale and tried again. “I need to remove the cuffs … and dispose of a body. I’ve done something—big. Bigger than this.” I gestured at Ceres. “If you don’t want to know, I totally unders—”
“Tell me. I want to help. You saved me from Theros … I’m forever in your debt.” Helen pulled up her nightgown, revealing matching pink shorts. She tucked her gun in her waistband.
A few minutes later, Helen finished picking the locks on the manacles.
Ceres’s body crumpled to the floor.
“Now what?” Helen asked.
“Now I’ll dispose of the body and get Medusa,” I whispered. “We have to make it look like we broke her out of the dungeon.”
Helen nodded. “I’ll get a wig and dirt to conceal Medusa’s face.”
“Will that be enough?” Copper flooded my mouth as I bit down on my cheek. “She’s so much shorter and her eyes are a different color. The men will notice that—”
“Men never notice.” Helen smiled sadly. “Trust me.”
We hugged each other.
Reluctantly, I stepped back and hauled up Ceres.
“Domus.”
Just like that, I was back in the House of Hades palace at Crete.
Medusa was sitting next to Persephone in front of the fireplace. Classical music was playing. They dropped their books and jumped to their feet.
My arms gave out—Ceres dropped to the floor with a thud.
Medusa’s eyebrows rose.
“I n-need to get rid of a body,” I said, feeling faint.
Persephone walked toward me.
I flinched.
“I’ll handle it, daughter,” she said gently, her amber eyes bright with power. “Don’t worry. You came to the right place.”
A long heartbeat passed.
Persephone opened her arms.
I collapsed against her, tears streaking down my face, as she rubbed my back soothingly.
That night I returned to the villa with Medusa disguised as Ceres.
The deception was complete.
49
FEDERATION MEETING
MEDUSA: TWO WEEKS LATER
The leader of the House of Athena raised her hand. She stood behind the speaker platform at the bottom of the packed amphitheater.
Her long brown hair glinted with decorative gold foil that matched her heavy laurel crown. As she moved, her white toga shimmered with layers of silk.
Athena cleared her throat. “I will be acting as the interim federation speaker because of these … extenuating circumstances.”
A hush descended.
House leaders, generals, and distinguished creatures all gave her their attention.
No one knew how to react to the fact that their illustrious Olympian leader had admitted to attempting to murder a child (outside of the crucible—the distinction was key) and then had disappeared after being publicly humiliated.
On the far side of the amphitheater, the Spartans wearing lion crests all ducked their heads with shame.
The House of Zeus had fallen.
It was a glorious time to be alive.
“It is noon on the dot. This federation meeting is now called into session.” Athena pointed up at the gold clock on the wall behind her.
I rubbed my eyes, but the clock stayed the same.
Oh no.
Not again.
The big hand was on the two, the small hand was on the twenty, and the second hand hovered right above it. It said it was two twenty-two.
Fumbling hastily, I pulled my small notebook out of my pocket and scribbled—Athena announced it’s twelve, but the clock behind her says 222. Third time this week seeing that number.