Page 267 of Bonds of Hercules
Purple eyes.
Opal fangs went for the jugular.
The men screamed, pissing themselves with fear as Nyx became visible, and they understood the full extent of their doom.
“Howdareyou hurt her,” Nyx hissed as she reared back.
The last guards shrieked, skulls crunching around them as they clawed at the stone walls.
Nyx struck fast, a blur of death.
Gurgles of pain echoed, raspy final breaths—then silence reigned.
It was a crime scene.
The guards lay still, strewn around crushed skulls and stones, their eyes wide open, full of fear.
Nyx slithered back up around my shoulders, draping across me like a scarf. “I really needed that.” She sighed with satisfaction, her tongue flicking against my cheek.
I tipped my head back and gurgled, then leaned down and spit my blood onto my raised tingling palms.
A long glowing rod solidified in my hands.
I pulled my arm back until my hand was at the chain level—the razor-sharp point of the staff sliced through the metal like butter. I made quick work of the rest.
The chair tipped back, banging against a guard and bouncing onto the stone.
I cracked my neck with relief and stretched, wincing as the healing wounds on my side pulled, and my battered face ached unmercifully.
I dropped the rod, blood splattering across the floor in a steaming puddle.
“What’s the plan?” Nyx hissed.
“Vengeance.”
“I knew I raised you right.”
There was no time to waste, so I pictured the symposium.
“Domus.”
The world shifted.
A frescoed ceiling stared down at me, music blaring loudly.
I was on my knees, behind a column, in a dark corner of the symposium.
There were bodies everywhere, crushed together jumping with their hands raised. They were barely able to move.
All of Sparta was in attendance.
Music wailed as the three members of a famous rock band danced on a small stage, the lead singer screaming as he jumped around.
It’s really happening.
I can do this.
I turned and gasped.
