Page 22 of Claimed By the Hitman: Codename Cupid

I rub my eyes sleepily, slide the metal chair over to the speaker, and kick my legs up on the pedestal. It rocks slightly. Huh, I always thought this thing was bolted down. "Zeus, so good to hear that weird little voice of yours. How are you?"

This is not a game...

"Everything is a game, my disembodied friend. You only say that because you're losing."

Zeus is silent. Hades took my watch, so I do a little rough math in my head.

"Let's see, it must be around seven in the morning on the East Coast." I start holding up fingers. "That means Director Anderson's vacation house in Puerto Rico is gone. Co-director Padilla just lost his collection of supercars. And the head of your cover-up division... Oh, what's her name?" I lean the chair back on two legs before I snap my fingers and bring it back down. "That's right. Veronica Stratford. She's probably wondering how her yacht caught fire in the middle of the night. I think she was planning a little Atlantic excursion soon, wasn't she?"

Enough,Zeus almost sounds like he's begging me to stop.How?

For once, the gods have to wait in silence. I stand and do a lap around the little room, running my hands along the perfectly white walls. It's even smaller than it seems. I imagine all the blood on my hands staining the walls red. But it's already red. Underneath the white, it's all blood.

"You know when one of your assassins succeeds or fails. Of course, you do," I speak like I'm giving a lecture. Who knows, there might be a gathering of Olympia higher-ups hanging on my every word like fawning students. "You have your spies and your eyes. But you don't know the details until they're reported to you. You don't know how we kill them, how long it takes us to do it, or the things we might ask them before we take their life. You never even considered the possibility that we might speak to our target at all."

You,Zeus stammers.You've been conversing with your targets before you eliminate them?

"I've been interrogating them."

Somebody keeps their finger on a button because the mic is hot for a full two seconds before it shuts off. Zeus's panicked voice was more than one.

I smile at the speaker and pat it on its little head. "I’ve been surprised by how much some of them actually knew. You lot have made some enemies out there."

They are evil,Zeus booms.We are ridding the world of—

"Evil. Right. Right." I roll my eyes and wave him off. "Truly, I don't care which of you thinks you're wrong or right. You’re all cut from the same cloth. You're all parasites. That's all this is: the wealthy at war with one another. The obscenely rich playing and paying in blood for more power and control. Your motivations mean nothing to me."

Again, I count in my head.

"Except, of course,self-preservation.Now, that's a motivation I can work with. I assume you don't want to find out what will blow next if you keep me here for too long."

Zeus, whoever they are—one of them, all of them—comes back softly,What do you want, Cupid?

"Simple: to not be Cupid anymore," I say sternly. "And for Hera to not be Hera. We want to be nobody. Nobody toyou, that is. All you have to do is let me go, leave us alone, and never come looking. Nothing else will explode. Your identities will be safe with me."

That's a risk we can't take. We don't let people go.

"Well, what a toxic work environment you created. Is it any wonder that someone is shooting up the office?" I plop back down in the chair and rest one foot against the pedestal like I'm about to topple it. "Your choice, Olympia. Keep me here, and it's only going to get worse. We spared lives up until this point. The more the clock runs, the deadlier things are going to get. You’ll call usTitansbefore this is over. And the best part is that you'llneverfind her."

The only shitty part about this plan, from my perspective, is that Rose doesn’t get to witness Olympia taking it on the chin. Well, at least she gets to pull the triggers.

Zeus politely asks me to wait.

“Take your time.” I glance at the non-existent watch on my wrist. “Well, take it at your own peril. And send in someone with an espresso, would you? I’m beat. Vegas, baby.”

The chair grows uncomfortable, so I plop down on the floor and lean against one of the walls. Eventually, the nearly-invisible door opens, and Hades walks in. In all black, he’s a blotch on the room.

He doesn’t seem to mind serving me the espresso.

“Are you kidding?” I laugh, examining the little mug. There’s a red thunderbolt on it. “Olympia has merch? God, I wish Hera could see this. Can I take this?”

Hades shrugs. “Not my division.”

I sip the coffee and raise the cup to him. “Damn good.”

Hades pulls a black flask from his pocket. “Want a little something to spice it up?”

“Oh, no,” I scoff. “I quit.”

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