Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(57)

Kharon wiggled it. “Careful—don’t shoot yourself.”

Katie jumped.

I slapped Kharon across the back of the head. “Sorry, madam, he doesn’t get out much.”

“It was just a joke,” Kharon grumbled, but he stepped back and gave the woman space to hold her new weapon.

“Do you have anything else you can tell us?” I asked her, letting my desperation show on my face.

She shook her head no, and stared down at the gun with awe.

I tasted bile.

Her face morphed into Alexis, then Helen, then back to Alexis.

I left as quickly as possible, needing to get out of the trailer. Kharon followed without a word.

“Wait!” Katie yelled from the door.

We stopped.

I couldn’t look over at her.

“The rug rats—we couldn’t help them, because rumor was …” She lowered her voice. “Someone threatened to make grizzly food out of any folk who helped them—that’s all I know. Swear to God.”

“We appreciate it,” Kharon said calmly, even though his eyes flashed with wrath.

Katie disappeared inside her trailer.

Both of us scowled.

Dark emotions were rising between us—killing wasn’t enough—we needed to hold Alexis as she told us every bad thing that had ever been done to her, then avenge it all.

“When she said grizzly—” Kharon bit out. “Does she mean the antique semiautomatic weapon I was researching for our initial prototype bodies and—”

“It’s a type of bear,” I said.

Kharon made a face.

An hour—and four dead men—later, we’d learned Alexis and Charlie had once lived in a trailer with two supposed parents, but the father was arrested for killing the mother, and they were homeless orphans.

Also, this trailer park had a problem with men hurting women.

The only men who seemed nonviolent in the park were a group of elderly guys who lived at the edges, and a young man named Paul who wouldn’t stop talking about birds and … government drones? He wasn’t well.

“I can’t believe someone threatened them to let kids live in the fucking woods, and they all did nothing.” Kharon kicked a rock, and it shattered against a distant tree. “Why the fuck would anyone do that? Do you think it was their foster father?”

I clenched my teeth. “The scars on Alexis’s wrists and her ear.”

“They’re old injuries.” Kharon stilled. “She must have been a child because her Spartan healing hadn’t kicked in yet … We need to pay a visit to the prison.”

I nodded in agreement. “That one woman said something about a tattooed man helping them—let’s find out.”

The last trailer, positioned at the edge of the forest, was maintained better than the rest.

As we moved toward it, Kharon’s face became blank, the whites of his eyes filling as he activated his Chthonic powers. He stopped walking.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

Seconds stretched into minutes as I waited for him to do or say something.

Just when I was convinced he needed medical help, the blood receded and his blank expression disappeared.

His expression was livid. “We have a problem,” he said darkly.

I pointed to the last trailer we needed to investigate. “Save it—we need to finish what we started.”

Kharon looked like he was going to argue, but he eventually nodded and stalked forward.

“Open up or we’ll shoot!” Kharon kicked at the front door.

The door swung wide immediately. “How can I help you gentlemen?”

The man who answered was about our age, slightly shorter, and his face was covered in satanic symbols.

He smiled pleasantly.

Without preamble, I stabbed my powers into his mind.

Solid darkness greeted me. He had mental defenses, extremely strong ones.

I pressed against them, searching for weak points, but they were heavily fortified. Animalistic growls echoed in my head each time I pushed against the solid rock. The only minds I’d ever felt that were somewhat similar were— I withdrew from his mind. “Shoot him,” I ordered.

Kharon fired, but it was too late.

Smoke billowed and there was nothing but empty space where the man had been standing.

He’d leapt away.

“What the fuck?” Kharon turned to me. “Who was that?”

“Not who—what.”

Kharon stomped into the trailer, opening drawers and pulling shit apart as he searched for a clue. “Was it an Olympian?”

“He was primordial—ancient.” I shook my head. “I think … I think he was part creature. His defenses were animalistic, but he was strong. Extremely so.”

No one had ever fully stopped my mental attack.

Minds were breakable.

Always.

Kharon threw down the letters with frustration. “Why would a powerful ancient creature be living here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck!” Kharon kicked at the trailer wall; his foot dented the metal. “I don’t like this—I don’t like this at all.”

“Me neither,” I said. “We need answers.”