Page 65 of Blood of Hercules
“No, this isn’tCrete, this is Corfu,” Patro scoffed like I’d asked the dumbest question in the world. “The House of Hades owns Crete—obviously.”
Voices, cold, black fog everywhere, a boy with horns punching his head during the massacre.
“Don’t make that disgusted face,” Patro snapped. “You’re not good enough to lick the boots of Hades or Persephone—they’re the best of us,” he said, almost wistfully.
If they were the best, I didn’t want to know the worst.
Achilles sat still like he was carved from marble, and Patro lit a cigarette that smelled like cloves and tobacco.
I scrunched my nose at the smell.
Patro blew smoke in my direction and flipped me off.
I grimaced and looked away.
After a tense moment, Patro took a long drag and said, “Moving on—so, daughter of Zeus and a random human whore who probably wanted a taste of fame but found ruin because he didn’t want you, what’s your power? Please, enlighten us. Personally, I can’tfucking waitto hear this.”
“Swearing is a sign of a weak mind,” I whispered, then clapped a hand over my mouth, horrified that I’d spoken my thoughts aloud.
I was losing it.
Patro crossed his arms and mocked, “Swearing is a sign of a weak mind.” His smile was venomous. “Grow the fuck up. What’s your motherfucking power? Tell us, fucking now.”
I took a deep, steadying breath. “I don’t have one.”
Patro’s right eye twitched, and Achilles remained motionless.
“What do you—mean?” Patro asked softly, cigarette quivering between his lips.
I stared down at my feet. “I don’t have any powers.”
An ocean breeze blew warmly and whipped our hair.
Patro crushed his cigarette, walked inside, and screamed in the other room at the top of his lungs.
I was surprised he didn’t punch the wall like a psycho.
There was a crunching sound and a bellow—there went the wall.Classic.
One mental breakdown later, about ten minutes give or take, the Crimson Duo once again sat across from me on lounge chairs.
Patro rubbed his bloody knuckles and asked, “Olympians always say their power feels pleasurable and bubbly... are youone-hundred-percent sure you’ve never felt this?”
If I was being completely honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt “pleasure.” The closest I’d come to enjoyment was when Tim-Tom had gotten suspended from school for a week because he’d chanted “peace, love, and butt stuff” and started a mini riot in the halls. Yes, that had really happened.
High School was a bizarre place.
“Yes,” I repeated for the fourth time.
“Are you kidding me?” Patro shouted and stood up. Achilles put a hand on his thigh and pushed him back down.
“What does usingyourp-power feel like?” I asked because Nyx said it was important to make conversation and not stare at people in silence (I wasn’t convinced).
Patro breathed deeply. “It’s... intense,” he said through gritted teeth. “More painful and all-consuming, in a way that Olympians couldneverunderstand. But that’s not any of your business.”
He shook his head and narrowed his eyes cruelly.
“The only women Chthonics are heirs,” he said vehemently. “A half-human female Chthonic is literally impossible—our power wouldripyou to shreds from the inside out. It would tear you into pathetic pieces and boil your womb. You can’t even fathom what we feel.”
