“What’s going on is that this city has gone mad.” She drags a hand through her long hair and shuts the door. “We’ve had three assassination attempts in the last twelve hours, including yours.”
“Three?”
“Yeah, some fool tried to drop a shipping container on Poseidon.” She makes a face. “They’re no longer among the living.”
“Oh.” I don’t know if I want to ask whether or not Poseidon was the one to remove that threat.
Helen doesn’t give me a chance to figure it out. She crosses over and crouches down to look at my legs. “Do you need to go to a hospital?”
“No.” I barely resist the urge to brush my fingers against the bandage on my thigh, the memory of my husband’s gentle touch confusing and disorientating. He saved me. I still haven’t had time to process that. Truthfully, I can barely believe it happened, but even more shocking was the quiet moment afterward. The moment where I fell apart and he somehow managed to make me feel safe. I certainly don’t know what to think of that.
“Probably for the best.” Helen sits back on her heels. “I can’t guarantee the hospitals are safe right now. Nowhere is safe, really. This is so fucked.”
Her phone trills, its jaunty little tune totally at odds with the seriousness of the situation. I raise my brows as a deep voice says, “Hey, sexy,” against the music. “Charming.”
“Achilles has a funny sense of humor.” She fishes her phone out of her pocket and frowns. “It’s Perseus. Hold on.” A few button clicks and she answers with video. “Eris is okay.”
Our brother’s face fills the screen. Anyone who didn’t know him would think he looks much the same as ever, but I grew up with him. I recognize the stress deepening the faint lines bracketing his mouth and the fact that he’s starting to get the same dark circles beneath his eyes that Helen is.
He looks at me a long moment. “We’re locking down.”
“That’s a mistake.” Helen shakes her head sharply. “If we look like we’re running scared, the city is going to riot. MuseWatch is already practically salivating over each new attempt. We can’t afford to go into hiding.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He looks at something off-camera and his expression shutters. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Hera.” A few seconds later, she must leave the room, because he relaxes a little. Hardly matrimonial bliss over there. “We can’t afford to lose another of the Thirteen, and none of the three attempts in the last twenty-four hours actually followed the clause’s parameters. If one of these attempts succeeds, we’re going to either have a violent civilian who doesn’t know a single thing about their new responsibility, or we’re going to have a vacancy that will take time to fill. Neither of those outcomes is acceptable.”
“Or we’re going to have another of Minos’s minions in the role.” Helen makes a face. “Though he’s been remarkably quiet since the wedding. I don’t think he’s behind any of these, and Apollo agrees with me.”
“I. Do. Not. Care.” Perseus bites out the words. “We are locking down.”
“No, Helen’s right.” I’m still feeling a bit shaky, but I’m not about to admit as much to my brother. “Perception matters as much as anything right now. We can’t hide.”
“Then give me an alternative,” he snaps.
“I need a couple hours, but I can send squads of my people to bolster the Thirteen’s security teams.” Helen holds up a hand when our brother starts to argue. “Achilles has spent the last three months organizing our people into a fighting force he’s confident in. I won’t pretend that I’d trust every single one of them with the temptation of close contact with us, but there are enough to form thirteen squads.”
For a moment, I think Perseus will shoot down the idea. Helen might have settled into her role as Ares, but it’s hard to dismiss the sibling roles that have ruled our lives. She’s older than me by a year, but from the time we were children, she’s been softer, taking more after our mother than our father.
Our mother wasn’t hard enough to survive in Olympus.
Gods willing, our sister will be.
I clear my throat. “Either we trust her or we don’t, Perseus.”
He curses, slow and steady. Trust our brother not to ever lose his cool, even when he’s showing a tiny sliver of emotion. “Fine. Do it.” He turns his attention on me. “Your husband is swaying public opinion in his favor, and the time he’s spending with Adonis is only adding fuel to that fire. They look like they’re commiserating over their broken hearts, and it’s garnering too much sympathy.”