Page 72 of Martyr
Tem bursts into the room, her sharp gaze immediately taking in the scene.
“Interrogating him without me?” Her voice is breathless.
Apollo shrugs. “Just talking.”
“Yeah, right.” She eyes me. “You good?”
I straighten in my seat and lift my zip-tied hands. “Peachy.”
She scoffs. “Is that really necessary?”
“We don’t know if we can trust him,” Jace says evenly. “And he is a known fighter. This was just a safety precaution. What if he escaped and led the Cyclopes right back to us?”
“It’s okay, Tem,” I interject.
Apollo glowers at me.
Why?Oh—her nickname.
I clear my throat and shift. They don’t know shit about my relationship to her. If she doesn’t want me calling her that, she’d say it. And maybe she wouldn’t say it with her voice, but her body language would absolutely translate it. So far, it hasn’t.
Not that I’ve taken much opportunity to call her that anyway. Seemed like a wrong place, wrong time sort of deal.
“Where did you go?” Apollo asks her.
Exactly the question I wanted to ask.
She makes a face. “Negotiating.”
Intriguing.
“With who?” her brother demands.
She gestures behind her. “Come and see.”
Uh-oh.
Jace and Apollo immediately follow. Wolfe seems to contemplate, glancing from me to them, then finally grabs my arm and tugs me up.
“I’m not missing this for babysitting duty,” he mutters.
I grin. “Fine by me.”
He huffs. We step onto the porch just in time for Saint to hit a button on the key. The trunk pops open, and he steps back quickly as a leg shoots out. My eyes bug out.
There’s a person in there?
Saint stands back, arms crossed, as the person kicks in the air. Black pants, boots. Their legs pinwheel until their heels hook on the ledge of the trunk, and they use that to leverage themselves up and out.
I nearly choke when Gabriel rolls himself over the lip of the trunk and hits the ground feetfirst. He rises to his full height and straightens his shirt, patting his chest down. His hands, like mine, are zip tied.
What the hell have they done?
“And you were worried about me,” I say to Wolfe under my breath.
He doesn’t reply.
Gabriel looks around. When he lands on me, he smirks—then, noticing our similar predicament, the smirk transforms into a grin. “Twins, Kade! Always said we were brothers. Were you transported by trunk, too?”
