Page 18 of Invoking Ruin

The Underworld doesn’t play well with anyone who wasn’t born to it, and for all Eris has her feet in both worlds, I do not. It’s taken years, centuries of exposure to build a tolerance. Even then, it still likes to play tricks on me.

So, all I know for sure is that it’s nearing sunset when I return to Pegasus and begin the flight back to Italy.

I should be going straight back to my stash, grabbing prizes for this goose chase I intend to lead the others on. Dionysus is like a beacon in the darkness, though, and I can’t resist his pull even from hundreds of miles away.

Just one night, and then I’ll get to work. I’ll check on him, maybe take him out for more gelato, and then I can be on my way again. Though, I’ve no idea what I’ll tell him this time to keep him from coming with me.

Maybe I’ll just check on him from a distance.

Lying to myself again.

Pegasus is fast, but it still takes me the afternoon to travel to Lake Como. It’s full night by the time we descend and set down.

I should take a few minutes, change my clothes and clean up. It won’t do to show up to his door looking like a drowned river rat. Even if he won’t see me.

The loud buzzing whoosh of a helicopter fills the air. One flies overhead, heading straight into town.

A lump of dread fills my belly.

While Lake Como does attract mortals wealthy enough to arrive by helicopter, they don’t typically hover over the town with a searchlight. No, that would be the police.

And the searchlight is ominously close to Dionysus’s wine bar.

Fuck.

It has to be coincidence. I’ll get there and see it’s nothing, and I’ll have time for the shower I desperately need.

But if it’s not..…

Atropos’ warning rings in my ears. Even a god’s thread may be cut.

I move fast, dashing with divine speed into the town, my heart in my throat.

The situation only gets worse as I draw closer. The streets are crowded with frightened tourists and locals alike. Many mutter some nattering nonsense prayers. I don’t pray—I’m a goddess, and Litae is a stubborn bitch out to get me—but I do curse Chaos.

If this commotion involves gods and not mortals, I am well and truly fucked. I’ll never able to explain this to sweet, forgetful Sandro, and my divine pursuers will be even hotter on my trail than they already are.

Let it be some mortal nonsense. I can deal with mortals.

Of course, it isn’t. The bar is cordoned off, patrolled by police and swarmed by news reporters and mortals with mobile phones, ready to record the latest happening. The police have erected barriers, trying to keep the public back, but the crowd is thick, and I have to push my way past a throng of bodies to get a good view.

The bar’s blinds have been lowered, obscuring the view inside, but there’s a splatter of blood on the glass.

I grab the man next to me. “What’s happened here?”

“Some man attacked the staff and took the bar hostage. There are a bunch of people in there. I think they’re trying to negotiate with the bastard.” He points to the police outside, talking on a mobile phone, pacing.

One random cheap wine bar in all of Italy gets taken hostage, and it happens to be the one Sandro is working in? Coincidence has long since left the building. So did my luck.

Lovely. I shouldn’t have left the helmet in the chariot. I’ll have to find another way in. There are too many witnesses, here in front.

Backing out of the crowd, I retrace my steps until I find a back alley. I follow the cobblestone street, which is far too narrow for anything other than foot traffic. Unlike the main street, this is mostly empty, save for a colony of stray cats.

That is, until I run into a police officer guarding the back entrance of the wine bar.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have turn back. It’s not safe here.” He holds out his hands to stop me.

If I had the time, I would laugh. With no witnesses to worry about, this is almost pitifully easy. I touch his arm.

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