Page 9 of Flirting with Death

"Where are we going?" Clio asked from beside me. A startled yelp exploded from me as I jerked on the wheel and sent us careening across traffic, over a curb. My foot slammed on the brake, stopping us inches from a utility pole. "You drive like you want to die."

"What are you doing in my car?"

"I told you already. I need a hero." She smoothed her dress down and glanced at the street. Other cars would have hit us, but she must have stopped them. Because confused motorists stepped from their stalled vehicles, each of them in our direct line. "Although, heroes rarely try to kill people like you just did with this weapon you control. Maybe I've chosen wrong."

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but she was still sitting beside me, a perturbed expression on her face. Fresh air filled my lungs as I dragged in a deep breath. She smelled like those flowers that grow alongside the ocean. Her eyes matched the purple of them. I didn't know the name of them, but they were my mom's favorite, or at least she pretended to love them when I brought them to her when we were young. They could be weeds for all I knew. But this woman appeared to be delicate like a flower, if she was a muse of Greek Mythology though, she was anything but weak.

"I never choose wrong. Your sister doesn't need a muse to be a hero, so I would waste my talent on her."

Ouch. Those words had claws. I rubbed my chest as I stared at her. "Why do you think you need to create a hero?"

"Because if my sister inspires the demons that have her enough, it will inspire them with the correct idea of capturing Samantha. And if she is in a cage or being tortured, I'd have no one to save my sister. But you would be determined to get your sister back if that were to happen, so you can save mine as well," she said it all matter-of-factly, as if it made perfect sense. I'd be the last one to save her if she went missing. Raiden or even the demi-god would be a better choice. "I can not inspire either of them."

She could read minds. Think of the clouds, or a blank wall, or math. Those thoughts conjured the latest girl I had slept with, and Clio's eyebrows rose slowly as she judged me in my memory. "I wanted to last," I said and crossed my arms. I wasn't sure why I was defending myself. It wasn't like she really cared.

"I care little for the pleasures of the flesh, that would be Erato. She creates and inspires love and lust. Do not explain yourself to me, I only need a hero outside of the bedroom."

"I think you have the wrong guy," I said.

She glowed, a light radiated from her skin and filled my vision. "Regardless, you are the one I choose."

Heat infused my skin and filled my veins. When the light of the sun no longer filled my car, I blinked. She was gone. The world was back to normal, and I was no longer on a curb. It was as if I had never left the parking lot. Had I imagined all of that? I needed to get some rest, because hallucinations were common after not sleeping for two nights. That is what this had to be. Even if I had just slept last night.

I returned home without the milk or the bread and climbed stairs to my bedroom. I really needed my own place. Even Raiden had his own apartment. But I still lived at home with my parents. That was lame. And probably why I was having delusions of being visited by a muse that could somehow make me a hero.

Still, I felt refreshed and strong. I pulled off my shirt in front of my mirror and checked out my muscles. Were they bigger? Was I tanner? I flexed. I couldn't tell, but I felt different. I needed Raiden. He would talk me down.

CHAPTER 6

Alastor

"You still need rest," I said. I lifted Bellamy's shirt to check the wound. He swatted at my searching hand before he sucked in a deep breath. "Honestly, you're lucky I came for you. You'd be dead already, and after that dagger going through your side, you should be."

"Get your hands off me," he growled. His eyes flared crimson as he tried to escape my fingers.

"I know it burns," I replied as he hissed in pain. The skin around the spot the blade came out still wasn't healing. It was gray instead of the vibrant blue of his normal flesh tone. I had made all the healing salves I knew. If my mom was here, she would know more, but she still had a week left in Olympus.

Bellamy had been in the tower for weeks, without my father's knowledge. He'd been so weak in that time, I hadn't had to restrain him, but he was growing stronger. Which was both good and bad. On one hand, it meant he was healing, and on the other, it meant that I would have to chain him up to keep it that way. Not that I would keep him here if he decided he was leaving. It wasn't my place.

"You should have let me die. I was ready to," he snarled.

"You are saying the idea of more time with Samantha isn't tantalizing?" I asked.

I knew it would hit a cord. He had forced us into action by acting like he would kill her. It was the only card he had to play at that moment, the only one that would save her. He rolled his head to the side and stared out the tall window. His tail smacked the bed, revealing more emotion than his face would.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, as I finished taping gauze over the wound with another new salve I had created from calendula and chamomile. The yellow against his skin didn't help the pallor around the healing flesh.

"You are probably going to poison me," he said.

"You've discovered my grand plan. Bring you back to life long enough to watch you die in agony from poison," I said dryly as I held up an apple. "Although Eve might agree after Zeus gave her the fruit. But you need to eat something. Your father is going to act soon in defense of your death."

"So tell him I'm alive," Bellamy grumbled as he tried to sit up. He growled as his hand went to cover the wound. "I would tell him myself if you would just let me go."

"Oh, by all means." I straightened from the bedside and gestured toward the door. "You're free to go." He wouldn't make it five steps before I'd be carrying him back to the bed. His dad wouldn't listen to me either way. He knew we were antagonistic to each other.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed, his legs wobbling beneath him as he stood. The first two steps were like a baby deer learning to walk, the third and fourth were just as weak, and on the fifth, he collapsed. I was ready, and he fell against me with a groan. With ease, I maneuvered him back onto the mattress.

"That went well, two more steps than last time," I said. I pulled the blanket back over his legs.

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