Page 20 of Nemesis

I elbow him.

Five minutes later, Minos falls for the last time.

Apollo taps the bottom of his staff against my leg and hops up. He declares Hypnos the winner, lifting his arm over their heads.

Hypnos looks at me. Through the black fabric mask that cuts across the upper portion of his face, his eyes…

I suck in a sharp breath. His gaze moves on, coasting across the crowd, then higher. To the second floor. He pauses on Ares and Hades. The three will convene with the winners after the last fight, but for now, there’s only the thunderous applause.

And then it’s over, and he’s being ushered out by a raven-masked man while two more struggle to pick Minos up off the floor.

“Well,” Apollo calls in the following hush. “That was a thrilling opening. Did anyone see that coming?” He laughs.“Next up are two new fighters. Although if you’re a regular, you might recognize one as an occasional host…”

Saint.

I ball my fists.

“Please welcome out our first fighter, Hermes!”

The doors open, and a path is created. Saint strolls down with his arms loose at his sides, and he hops up onto the platform. His fabric mask is white, shot through with gold threads. I find myself leaning forward, analyzing how he moves.

He’s shirtless. Of course he’s shirtless, most of the guys who fight are. He’s somewhere between Hypnos and Minos in terms of stature. Packed with muscle but not overdone with it. He touches the galaxy tattoo over his heart and glances to the ceiling.

My jaw clenches.

“And a visitor to Sterling Falls,” Apollo’s voice booms. “Atlas!”

The titan who held the world on his shoulders in some myths. He was charged with keeping the heavens from crashing to earth in others, a punishment after losing a war against Zeus.

I just don’t expect the man I met in the atrium to come out of the fighters’ quarters.

I should. He practically admitted to fighting?—

When he finds me in the crowd, he smirks. I frown in response, ignoring the flush that creeps up the back of my neck.

Atlas. A heavily burdened titan for the mystery guest.

He is shirtless, as well. The black mask he wore outside has been replaced with a softer one that molds to his face. His body ripples with muscles, although there’s not a speck of ink on him. When he gets up close to Apollo and Saint, he’s taller than both.

My body goes cold when Apollo hops down from the platform. He comes to stand beside me, and I grip his wrist.I’m practically vibrating with the urge to shut this down. Not tonight, not even the fighting—justthisfight.

“This is wrong,” I whisper urgently. “Stop them.”

Apollo scowls. “Artemis.”

“Apollo.”

He shakes me off, never taking his eyes away from the circling men. “Saint is a grown up. He can make his own decisions.”

“Clearly not, if he can’t be trusted to live by himself.”

Apollo sighs. “He’s not going to die here.”

Something in me isn’t too sure. I don’t want to name this fear that’s crawling higher and higher up my throat. And it isn’t just Saint. It’s all of it. The past twenty-four hours, or maybe longer.

Maybe since Nyx…

I force myself to stand and watch.

---