Page 49 of God of War

He steps away for a moment, then returns with a cordless phone. He holds it out, offering me a small, pitying smile. As I reach for it, he pulls it back. “Is it long-distance?”

“Does Omaha count?”

I must look pathetic — drunk and pathetic — because he smiles kindly as he hands the phone over. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.”

He walks away, leaving me to stare at the phone in my hand. It takes me a second to remember Aunt Judith’s number, and I dial with clumsy fingers. I listen to the ring and down another mouthful of vodka soda.

“H-hello? Who is this?” Aunt Judith’s voice is rusty with sleep.

“Fuck, sorry, I forgot it was late. I— Aunt Judith, it’s me. It’s Delaney.”

“Delaney? Why on God’s earth… Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m sorry. Really. Can I speak to Lilly, please?”

“It’s— Gosh, it’s gone eleven!”

I roll my eyes. Aunt Judith probably tucked herself in as soon as it hit seven fifteen. I hated visiting her as a kid — too many rules, always desperate to have everything appear perfect, even if it wasn’t. I hate that Lilly’s been stuck there for so long, but at least living with Judith is better than living with Dad.

“Does your father know you’re placing calls this late at night?” Aunt Judith asks, as if making telephone calls after dark is in the same league as selling drugs on street corners.

“No, yes—” I stutter. “Just… can I please speak to Lilly? It’ll only be for a minute. I just want to make sure that she’s okay.”

“And why wouldn’t she be okay?” Aunt Judith squawks. “I am all that child has, and you’re accusing me of—”

“All she has?” I snap, stunned. “I’m her fucking sister, you old bitch.”

Aunt Judith makes a series of incomprehensible sounds. I jab the phone to hang up and set it down. Blood whooshes in my ears.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I screw everything up?

I fold forward, my head thunking on the bar.

“I wouldn’t do that,” comes the bartender’s kindly voice. I roll my head to the side and blink up at him through my curtain of hair.

“My face is sticky,” I reply dully.

“Yeah, that’s why I said I wouldn’t do that.”

I sigh and force myself back up. Okay, I’m definitely a little past tipsy now. I look around the bar a final time — my weird longing for Ares pulsing in my chest — and spot the unmarked door, the one those drunks came tumbling out of earlier. It’s cracked open and strangely dark inside. It’s the only place Ares could be.

“I think I’m gonna go,” I say, sliding off the stool. I pull a crumpled bill from the front of my dress and toss it down.

“Keep the change.”

“You’re actually short,” the bartender says, punching some keys into the register. “But don’t worry about it. You get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”

I snort. Where I come from, home and safe aren’t words that belong in the same sentence. I nod and thank him anyway, then pretend to make my way to the front door. Glancing back, I see him move off down the bar, so I take my chance and dart for the mysterious door.

I reach for the handle and almost get my head knocked off when it comes flying open again. I jolt back as a man and a woman come sweeping out, mid-conversation. The swampy smell of sweat and booze — as well as something coppery and sharp — exits with them, along with the noise. A distant roar.

I don’t give myself time to think, to even consider what I could be walking into, and I dart around the couple and through the door. I let it bang shut behind me.

I blink into the murky darkness. The walls feel close and I place my hand out to steady myself as my eyes adjust. A dim lightbulb hangs a few feet ahead, lighting the way down a set of cement steps. Heat and light pulse up from the bottom.

The roar is even closer now, muffling all other sound. Now I know why the music is so loud out in the bar; it must be to cover this other noise — whatever it is.

My feet carry me down the steps, my heart jack-hammering all the way. I’m almost at the last step when I realize what that smell is. The one mingling with B.O. and beer. It’s a tangy, sharp smell that connects to some primal kind of fear inside me, telling me to turn around and get the fuck out of here.

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