Page 18 of The New Gods

“Yeah.” He leaned toward me, seemed to realize he was doing it, and stepped back. “Bye.”

Without another word, or even a peek over his shoulder, he left.

But I just stood there. Bad dreams and near death experience forgotten as I watched the man who saved my life run away like someone was chasing him.

Orestes

“Ican help.” The woman—Leo—her voice in my head was a welcome interruption from the voices usually in residence.

I’d been tailing Leo since we’d all met up a week ago. I was laying the groundwork. Learning the enemy’s habits. Looking for weakness.

“See if you can find anything else out,” Hector commanded. “Pollux went in like a bull in a china shop.”

He didn’t have to add anything else. Pollux and subtlety didn’t exactly go hand-in-hand.

And since I was always on the move, I was the reasonable choice of stalker.

My phone rang, but I ignored it. Instead, I enjoyed the noise of the city, and that my head was, for once, silent.

I should have stayed. From the honest, open expression, and her concerned brown eyes, I could have. She’d have welcomed my company.

Achilles would have said I missed an opportunity to learn about our enemy, but for all my training as a soldier, I never thought strategically. Let alone in terms of enemies and allies.

Ally.

And Leonora Ophidia wasn’t an enemy. Her pulse had thrummed against my fingers as she held my hand. I could still feel the ghost of her skin on my wrist. My phone rang again, and I still ignored it. I needed time to think, and this silence, so rare, was a gift.

Hector wanted me to observe, see if this mortal was closer to finding the pieces of the seal than Pollux suspected. Achilles, though, the look he’d given me said he wanted me to do more than observe.

I’d considered it. I’d almost decided on it.

My mind went back to that day a week ago when Hector called all of us to gather. We didn’t risk it often. Things seemed to… happen when we were all together.

Too much power in one place.

I’d driven north, through the fog and rain, and found Pollux, covered in mud and building a wall.

His hair was plastered to his skull, though the wind whipped across the moors. It was significantly colder here than it was in London, where I’d left, but he wore only a T-shirt.

“What happened?” I asked, studying the mud and divots that led from the house to the rock wall. I could guess.Things,probably.

Pollux flung a rock. “Ask Paris.”

I wouldn’t, but I had a better idea of what I was walking into.

Inside, the low murmur of voices came from upstairs.

“Murderer.”The word swept through my brain so quickly, I could almost pretend I imagined it.

“Murderer.”This voice was different from the first. Gripping the banister so hard it cracked, I waited for the third.

“Murderer.”

There it was.

And like always, that third voice sucked me from wherever I was, right into the past.

Standing over the body of my mother.