Page 171 of Bonds of Hercules
He held me like I was his hostage.
So dramatic.
For some reason that I refused to acknowledge, I didn’t pull away.
The day was blustery and chilled.
Even though it was June, the mountain breeze had a crisp edge as it whipped through the Dolomites Coliseum, and too-bright sunlight reflected off the stone walls of the arena.
I once again found myself seated between my husbands in the Chthonic section of the coliseum, but the stadium had changed.
Fear took root at the base of my spine.
Solar generators hummed around the top edge of the arena walls—a domed web of electric lines arched over the entire stadium. High above, the neon-green network shimmered faintly in the sunshine and descended all the way to the sand.
“What is that … net?” I asked as electricity prickled across my skin.
“A force field,” Augustus said. “One of the House of Zeus’s inventions. No one can leap into it—or out of it—without suffering extreme electric shock.”
“It’s to make sure no one … interferes,” Kharon said coldly.
I shifted in my seat.
Fluffy Jr., Poco, and the hellhounds slept at our feet in a pile of bones, black and gray fur, and lumpy protrusions. Every few seconds Fluffy Jr. twitched with a spasm and Poco smoothed a hand over his forehead.
Please God, let him be okay.
An unsettling war cry punctuated my prayer.
Below the shimmering force field, Arthritis (Artemis) rode her muscular black stallion onto the sands surrounded by a scarlet mist.
The stadium chanted, “Vivere est militare … vivere est militare … vivere est militare!”
To live is to fight.
The stallion reared back, and the crowd went wild.
Artemis smirked atop her steed and framed her black chest plate with her hands, drawing attention to the crest displayed across it.
Rubies gleamed in the sun, forming the rabid horse crest of the House of Artemis.
Her long brown hair was plaited into a complicated braid down her back, her aristocratic nose pointed up with pride, and her spiky crown sat tall and regal on her head. A bow was slung loosely over her shoulder next to a holster full of arrows.
Spartan guns were banned altogether, but apparently the Olympians let you choose from an armory of blade weapons, all of which I could barely wield.
The Montana education system had failed me.
Did we really need that sex education course on the mating rituals of nuclear-radiated Canada geese?My gut reaction—yes.
I couldn’t help but feel like I’d learned something invaluable from that course. Do not try to pet geese,especiallyif they have more than three eyes (they will destroy you).
Augustus shifted closer, draping his arm over mine and Kharon’s back so I was tucked between the two of them.
The scents of lightning and rain smothered me as they pressed against me like they were trying to burrow under my skin.
I was in the middle of their storm.
Nyx was twined around my neck, and Augustus flinched as her scales slid against his arm.
