Page 113 of A Touch of Chaos

They stood ankle-deep in the ocean, staring at Ares’s island, which was far smaller than Persephone expected. It reminded her of a hill that had grown out of the ocean.A shore scattered with rocks and clamshells led into a thicket of trees and beyond that, higher ground where all she could see was patchy earth.

“If he is using this place to try to impress people, no wonder he’s single, because it isdis-a-point-ouch!”

Hermes jerked beside her, his hand clamping down on his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” he said as he plucked what looked like a dart from his arm. A perfect line of blood dripped down his golden skin.

“Is that a feather?” Persephone asked.

Hermes’s face twisted into a look of disgust. He met Persephone’s gaze and then jerked again as another feather-like dart struck his opposite shoulder.

“Seriously?” Hermes demanded.

“Fuck,” Hades said. “Not again.”

At first she was confused and then she noticed movement from the trees as a bird shot from the leafy canopy. It moved quickly, soaring like a spear launched by a god. It was followed by a second bird and then another, and suddenly, there were hundreds, and with them came a spray of thin, feathered darts.

“Wanna take back that rule about not killing anything, Hades?” Hermes asked.

“Run,” said Hades, grabbing Persephone’s hand.

They took off across the shore toward a cluster of large rocks. Hades tried to shield her from the onslaught of needlelike barbs, but they were too numerous. She gritted her teeth as each one hit, pulling handfuls of feathery darts from her arms and legs as she ran, only finding relief when they managed to scramble behind the rocks, which the birds flew past in a dizzying blur of white.

Hades held her against him, his hands placed protectively over her head. For a few brief moments, all she could hear was the sound of the birds’ violent cries and the whirring of their wings.

Then everything went quiet—except for her heart, which felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Hades’s, she noted, was unsurprisingly steady.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as Persephone reluctantly peeled herself away from him.

“No,” she said, wincing as he plucked a feather she had missed from her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Did you saynot again?” Hermes demanded. “How many times have you been chased by assassin birds?”

“Three,” Hades replied. “If you count this one. Though these are relatively harmless comparatively.”

“Harmless?Harmless?” Hermes’s face was turning pink. “Look at my ass, Hades. Does this look harmless?”

He turned to show his backside, which was covered in feathery darts. He looked like a peacock or maybe a porcupine, she couldn’t decide, but it took everything in her to keep from giggling. She pressed her lips together and, when that didn’t work, covered her mouth to hide it.

Hades didn’t even try. He just laughed, a deep sound that made her stomach flutter as she realized how much she had missed it.

“Laugh all you want,” said Hermes. “But you’re going to heal this.”

It took Persephone a moment to regain her composure, and while she felt bad for Hermes, she couldn’t deny that it had actually felt good to laugh—deeply, fully.

It had been a long time.

“Hermes, let me help,” she said, taking a step toward him just as a feather struck the sand near her foot.

“Oh no,” she said and looked up to see a horde of birds speeding toward them.

She covered her head, and Hermes screamed. It was shrill and sharp, worse than the sound he’d made at Zofie’s funeral. It twisted through her whole body, grated against every bone. She was so focused on the sound, it took her a moment to realize the birds hadn’t attacked, and when she looked up, she saw they had begun to swarm, darting in every direction as if the sound of Hermes’s scream had made them go mad.

His wail slowly subsided.

“Wh-what’s happening?” he asked.

“It appears Ares’s birds find you just as annoying as I do,” Hades said.

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