Page 70 of Nemesis

“This is the golden girl?” the woman behind him questions. “She looks frightened.”

“Just the new environment, ma’am,” a man says in a low voice. “She’s not used to boys her age.”

The woman sniffs.

A single sound that carries a lot of weight.

If I wasn’t hollow, my cheeks would burn.

They back off, though. Put space between themselves and the boy.

I don’t want this.

It isn’t the first time I’ve thought that. As soon as I step back, though, hands grab at me. They stab a needle into my left upper arm, and a hot sensation spreads across the muscle. And then… worse.

The heat goes straight between my legs, my whole body tingling.

I gasp.

“New cocktail,” the man behind me, another guard, says.

Not to me, though. To the couple. And the boy.

“Enhances desire.”

I shift. Squeeze my legs together. The words register, and then it makes sense.

The boy is eyeing me curiously now. They all are.

I can’t.

I won’t.

My body is on fire. Ants crawl across my skin, and white spots flicker. My throat closes, making it hard to draw in a ragged breath. It comes in on a wheeze, exhales as a rattle. It’s then that I realize something is wrong.

I can’t breathe.

The first panic attack of many to come.

That won’t protect you, a small, snide voice in my head whispers.

The white spots take over my vision, and my hearing goes out. I’m still conscious. I’m still functioning. But my brain just…stops. The urge to be touched, to feel something—anything—overtakes my thoughts.

Something breaks in my mind, because I hold myself on the razor’s edge of giving in. Even as the boy inches forward and my fist snaps out, catching him in the nose. Even when my gaze stays cutting, but my body has another motive.

The first time is the worst, they said. The pain between my legs, the blood.

But this, arguably, surpasses that. Because the ability to separate pain and pleasure—there’s never been pleasure before—crumbles, leaving me only wanting touch. Wanting something I cannot voice, which the boy slowly finds.

And that’s when I lose the last of my real innocence.

20ARTEMIS

Present

“There you are.”Apollo strides across the rooftop restaurant, looking irritatingly put together. His hair is damp, and his t-shirt, dark-blue board shorts, and sandals are really not suited for the cool autumn morning.

I, on the other hand, am bundled in Kade’s sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, and moccasins with fuzzy insides. About as comfortable as I can be when my mind isnot.

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