Page 104 of Martyr
Well, they probably got caught in it.
I touch my cheek and huff. They deserve it.
My pace quickens as I approach the end of the block. I round the corner, scanning the road. My feet stop, body freezing, before my brain catches up.
There’s a familiar car parked on the curb. The one whose trunk I wasunceremoniously tossed in by the ever-sweet Artemis. She’s stronger than she looks, that Artemis.
I blink rapidly.
Leaning against the back bumper is a phantom.
Okay, maybe I did get caught in the blast. My body is probably back on the sidewalk, half-burnt, and my spirit just kept walking. To an afterlife I don’t deserve.
Her arms are crossed over her chest. She’s wearing jeans.
Did I ever see her in jeans?
Her sweatshirt has the Cyclops logo on the breast.She drew that when she was a kid, I recall. Kade offered it to Ouranos when they were trying to expand. Said he could use it so guys on the same side could recognize each other withoutknowingeach other.
It’s unique. As unique as her eyes, which are open.
Of course they’re open. She’s dead, and so am I.
It’s not that I expected a shiny afterlife… I was kind of counting on the opposite. Hell, burning, forever tormented, that sort of thing.
“Gabriel.”
Her voice doesn’t sound the same. It sounds different. Deeper, raspier. But the way she says it is like out of my memories. When she did finally talk to me anyway. There was a time when she wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“Stop staring at me.”
I picked the wrong Greek god.It comes to me all of a sudden, this idea that’s been living under my skin for years. I was never supposed to be Hypnos.
A freaking lightbulb just went off over my head.
I slink forward and lick my lips. I taste more blood—that’s probably the punishment, then. I’ll bear the pain of a broken cheekbone and a split lip and some loose teeth forever. But I can’t not say anything. She started it by saying my name, so… I should say her name.
“Did you ever learn about Orpheus?” is what comes out.
Her brows pinch together. A silentno.
He’s me, I almost say.
“His beloved was killed. Brutally ripped from him on their wedding night. So, he ventured to the underworld and begged Hades to let her go with him back to the living.” I suck in a breath and take another step. It’s like my feet are trapped in mud, it’s hard to move toward her. “He told Orpheus to follow the path out of the underworld. He said that Eurydice would walk in his footsteps, in his shadow. Following right behind. But if he called out to her, or if he looked back, it would be all for naught. When his shadow passed into the sunlight, she would be there.”
My throat works. I don’t want to say this next part, but I have to.
“He wasstepsfrom the light when he looked back at her.”
She shakes her head, her expression sad. “Is that why you didn’t visit?”
“If I looked back, you would’ve died,” I say. “And now, I’m sorry to say, I failed. You died, didn’t you? And I’ve just killed myself. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You’re going to escort me to whatever fate awaits us.”
Lyssa pushes off the bumper and steps toward me. Her gait is wobbly, her legs shaking like a newborn dear’s. I spring forward and catch her forearms, steadying her. She’s solid. I hold tight and loose at the same time, because how tight istootight? How much of my strength will hurt her?
“I’m alive,” she says. “And so are you.”
How did that lump get in my throat? It won’t let me swallow. I try, a few times, but all I end up doing is clicking my tongue.
