Page 105 of Blood of Hercules
Patro stood up to his full height, broad shoulders imposing—the sparkling sea did nothing to soften him—and his green wet T-shirt stuck to his chiseled chest like a second skin. It brought out the color of his eyes.
If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn the statue of David was modeled after Patro. He really was sinfully handsome.
Not that I noticed.
“Whatthe fuck is actually wrong with you?” he yelled.
“Anger is a secondary emotion,” I pointed out helpfully with a dry croak as I backed away toward the land. “You should work on expressing your p-primary emotions... and not swearing.”
Nostrils flaring, Patro cracked his knuckles. “Genuine question—what in thefuckity fuckfuckeris wrong with you?”
I winced.
Why do I keep engaging with the psychotic killer?
Patro narrowed his eyes. “Got something to say?”
The wounds on my feet stung as I kept backing away over the pebbled seafloor, and I shook my head.
The momentary courage was gone.
I should never have spoken.
“You just kicked me, Alex.” Patro’s voice was cold. “Youspoiledlittle brat.”
The irony of him calling me spoiled while using the nametheyused was not lost on me.
“Please don’t call me that name,” I whispered quietly.
“Kick me like that again,” Patro said as he stalked forward through the hip-level water, “and I’ll break your fucking leg.Alex.”
How the world worshipped the cruel man in front of me was beyond my comprehension. Sure, he was interesting to look at, but so was magma before it burned you alive.
Widening my sore legs, a scarlet cloud rising in the water from the open wounds on my feet, I tried to look like I wasn’t five seconds away from passing out and drowning.
Vicious memories played on a loop at the edge of my subconscious.
Patro took another step forward so he was within lunging distance.Retreat, retreat. Turning, I sprinted (hobbled slowly) over the pebbles on the shoreline back up to the deck.
There was a trail of red behind me.
Grabbing a towel off the chair farthest from Achilles, I angled myself behind the furniture and Nero, with my head tilted so I could keep my right eye on both men.
I prepared to scream for Nyx.
When Patro charges, I’ll bash him over the head with the chair.
The son of Aphrodite stalked onto the deck, and I plastered myself against the wall next to the French doors.
Nero turned his head to the side and looked back at me like he was asking,What is wrong with you, woman?
So much.
He bared his teeth and growled, like he wanted to maul me.
I grimaced.
“You’re such a drama queen—I’m not going to attack you, Alexis.” Patro rolled his eyes as Achilles handed him a towel. “Not right now.”
