Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(97)

Drex’s breath hitched.

Charlie trembled at my side.

Down on the sand, Agatha’s skin once again peeled away, and her jaw unhinged.

Click.

Click.

Cli—

The unholy noise stopped as Agatha’s skin remolded into the features of a woman. She shook her head no, like she couldn’t go through with it, as she stared at Hermos with wide, agonized eyes.

Hermos said something to her.

Agatha nodded in agreement.

They both turned and faced Zeus with mutinous expressions. They’re refusing to fight each other.

Their courage was shocking.

“IF YOU WANT WAR, WE’LL GIVE IT TO YOU,” Hades bellowed at Zeus, backing them, his terrifying fog now filling three-quarters of the stadium.

Zeus’s face was disturbingly emotionless as he stared down at the two rebelling Chthonics.

He lifted his scepter, the eagle rising with its wings spread wide.

Electricity blazed across his skin.

CRACK.

The world flashed white, and fiery heat scorched the air. My teeth stung, jaw aching as ozone filled my nose.

My vision cleared.

All around, people’s hair stood up with static electricity, defying gravity, as fog curled around them.

Zeus was pointing his smoking scepter down at the arena.

Sand protruded in a jagged, alien sculpture, mere inches from where Agatha stood.

I blinked rapidly, brain struggling to process—lightning had struck Zeus’s scepter, and he’d redirected it into the coliseum.

BOOM.

Thunder clapped deafeningly, directly overhead.

The electric dome sizzled.

Agatha and Hermos stood unnaturally still, their lips parted, paralyzed with fear.

Zeus turned on his podium, staring up at Hades. “I do not want war, old friend,” he shouted. “The games coalition of the federation has assigned each labor based on the abilities and might of the competitors. This is a test of HONOR!”

Wind whipped Hades’s black toga as he scowled down at him.

The arena was dead silent.

Mutually assured destruction, Helen’s warning echoed.

“No one needs to die,” Zeus called out, his white toga lit with sparks. “I do not want war.” He pointed down at the petrified sand. “I spared them.”

Hades tilted his head to the side, straining like he was struggling for control. He slowly lowered his hand—fog retreated to him, rushing from the stands, curling around his feet.

Lightning struck off in the distance and the crowd flinched, myself included.

Hades nodded sharply. “On your honor—no one dies!”

Zeus bowed his head low in agreement.

“What—what—what …” I trailed off. “How?” I whispered.

“Zeus is the only Olympian who can wield his power offensively,” Helen said grimly. “A single strike puts anyone who’s not ancient in a coma, and most don’t wake up from it … It’s why … only the Chthonic leaders survived the Great War.”

Charlie gripped my arm hard enough to bruise.

“It’s not absolute,” Helen whispered like she was trying to convince herself. “He needs to be outside on a stormy day to wield it.”

I didn’t feel any better.

“RESUME THE FIGHT!” Zeus bellowed.

Hermos moved with shocking speed, wrapping his chain tightly around Agatha’s throat before she could react, biceps straining as he choked her with everything he had, his expression determined.

She clawed at his forearms.

Long, awful seconds passed as he strangled her.

Finally, she fell limp to the sand, neck an abused shade of red.

She’s immortal, I reminded myself. He saved her life.

It didn’t feel like it.

Hermos stared down at Agatha’s limp body, his expression ruined, as he slowly unwrapped the chain from her neck. He turned away, hands still cuffed like a prisoner, and stalked toward the exit.

He glanced up at Zeus, then quickly looked away.

Zeus raised his scepter—the crowd recoiled. “Agatha has lost,” he announced calmly. “She will receive five brands. She failed to defeat all five of her labors.”

The stadium remained silent.

Zeus jumped from the platform—through the sizzling force field—and landed in the sand. Thud.

Light flared across his skin like the electricity had powered him, and he approached Agatha with a Vulcan metal staff in one hand, the scepter in his other.

Planting the scepter in the sand, Zeus shouted, “FIVE LABORS LOST!” He reached for Agatha’s unconscious body and ripped her toga, exposing her sternum.

He pointed the Vulcan staff at it. His arm lit with electricity, and the stamp at its tip turned bright yellow as he pressed the metal end into her chest.

Agatha’s unconscious body twitched as she was permanently branded, five separate times.

Sparks radiated from Zeus’s scepter, the Olympian eagle glowing.

It looked possessed.





36


SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS




ALEXIS: SGC DAY 6

Dazed, I trudged with the Chthonics into the symposium, deadly lightning still flashing in my mind.

Rock music had been replaced with tinkling harps and the crowd attendance was more sparse than usual—I missed the screeching guitars.