Page 62 of The Chosen Two

“Wow, Lu. You’re definitely a lover, not a fighter, huh?”

When he glares at me, something about his face is off; he is not quite Jake anymore. I hesitate for a second, trying to figure out what it is, and unfortunately that’s all he needs to get himself together and punch me in the face. Luckily, the pain is almost bearable after the sparring sessions when George beat me so soundly. Where the hell is George, anyway? No time to think about that now, unfortunately. Nor the blood pouring from my nose. I need to just act.

Callie stomps her foot, and the whole room shakes. “Lu, how dare you! Stop this immediately, and show Miranda your undying love. Right. This. Minute.”

Lu bounces around like a professional boxer, looking proud of himself. I charge with a superman punch and by sheer luck move faster than even I thought possible. To both our surprise, my strike connects with him. Unfortunately, he’s much taller than I am. I didn’t get enough height in my jump, so I hit him in the throat instead of the face. Still, it’s effective. He grabs his neck and spins away from me, coughing and sputtering.

When he turns back to me, he’s not Jake anymore. At all. Two giant, bat-like wings have busted through and shredded that beautiful (and expensive) black suit jacket and shirt, and his skin has turned dark gray. His pants slipped off his legs as they shriveled into skinny, goat-like limbs. Nothing about him is human anymore, not even his screams; they’re straight from the depths of hell. When he opens his mouth, his jaw seems to completely detach, and his yellow teeth point inside his foul, sticky maw.

I cringe and stumble backward, both at the sight of him and the knowledge that I slept with that thing—multiple times. But at least fighting this creature will be easier than when it looked like my husband, even if my husband is not at the top of my favorites list right now.

Callie screeches from beside the bed, and the sound makes my ears almost bleed. “No! Come on! Play nice, and just go home together!”

Pull yourself together, Miranda. You killed a damn Minotaur with zero training. You’ve got this. Granted, you had a machete for that fight… Stop it. You can do this.

I do Nogare breathing to center myself, slow my breath, and clear my mind. Then I jump back to guard stance and look around at my surroundings to look for something I can use as a weapon.

Callie shakes her head like a parent disappointed with her progeny. “I tried to make this easy for you, Miranda, but you had to be difficult. Lu, end this quickly. Don’t keep teasing your playtoy.” Callie finally slips back into the bed. Apparently, she’s so confident in the eventuality that Lu will finish me off she’d rather just go back to fucking my husband than stay and watch. She’d rather participate in all the moving and moaning and nasty noises coming from that bed. Yuck.

Just when I start to think all hope is lost, I see beside the bed a statue of Zeus, king of the gods, holding a golden lightening bolt. I run to the statue and try to grab my new weapon, but it’s much larger than I estimated. The bolt is not only as tall as I am but also securely set into the stone hand. I pray Zeus isn’t watching this all unfold (or if he is, that he’s at least on my side and not his daughters’). With Lu laughing in the background, I yank the bolt toward me. Lu stops laughing, and we’re both surprised by the little effort I needed to break the whole hand off the statue.

I try to spin the bolt like a bo, but getting my hands in the right place proves difficult with Zeus’s still holding on tight. So, while Lu takes a moment to reconsider his expectations of me, I smash the stone hand against the corner of the marble headboard. Zeus’s fist shatters, freeing the bolt, which turns out to be not just golden but actual gold, considering it’s now bent. Luckily, it’s also incredibly pointy.

When the Muses hear the crashing sound over their bed, the sex noises stop, and everyone snaps back the sheet. I am once again left nauseated, this time at the sight of their naked bodies intertwined with Jake’s.

Gently but quickly, I bend the bolt back into its former shape and then spin it freely, feeling the weight in my hands and wishing I knew how to accurately throw a javelin, though I’m not sure which target I’d choose first—Callie or Lu. The twisted bat-man glowers. I don’t think he’s quite sure how to react to this transition.

From the bed, one of the sisters screams. “You bitch! What did you do to our king and father’s statue?”

Callie, however, exhales loudly, climbs out of bed again, and examines the broken wrist closely. She cocks an eyebrow as if she’s a little impressed with me. “Erato, calm down. It’s a clean break. Hephaestus can fix that easily. Let’s see where Miranda goes with this.”

All of them watch me while in their naked, sweaty, nasty glory.

While I’ve been trying to keep my coffee down, I’ve been careless with allowing them to distract me. When I turn my head forward, Lu has halved the distance between us. About twenty feet still separates us, but, you know, he has actual wings, so I can’t let myself get comfortable. I hold my bolt like a spear, and I pray for it to stay in one piece for the duration of this fight. That is, unless Lu tries to use it on me. If that happens, I want the fucking thing to fall apart like wet tissue paper.

I charge at him, a primal scream coming from my chest, bolt held out before me, hoping to pierce the demon through the heart. Unfortunately, he also remembers he has wings and simply flies up into the air and over me, landing behind me, while I have to take a few moments to stop, turn, and get my bearings again.

Lu laughs that deep throaty, echoing sound. It makes the whole room shake, if not the whole mountain. Whatever I do, I’m going to have to keep him on the ground somehow. That’s my only chance. I review my training in my mind.

Only one option comes to me, but I can’t do it. If I miss, it will be goodnight. Except, it’s really my only choice. Okay, fine. Let’s just get this massacre over with…one way or another.

I estimate the distance between us. Should be right…in theory. I take off, running as fast as I can. He thinks I’m just charging him again, because a second later, he spreads his wings. When I think I’m close enough, I push off the ground with one foot, getting better height than I expected. Midair, I twist my torso so that I fly at Lu sideways. I extend my other leg and flex my foot while I press the bolt securely against the extended leg. The pointy end reaches slightly beyond my heel that I aim at Lu’s boney chest. His eyes go wide, but he flaps his wings once and rises off the ground. The bolt misses his heart, by a lot, and he smirks for a split second, until it punctures one of his leathery, veiny wings. As I fall toward the floor and Lu continues his upward ascent, the bolt slashes the length of his wing. I fall to my feet just as Lu’s blood curdling scream pierces my ears.

Immediately I turn back to face Lu. Ah Lu. Poor Lu falls on the ground in heap and writhes in a pool of his own ink black blood, wailing.

“Now, this.Thisis music to my ears.” I call to Callie, who squints her eyes and tilts her head, but that is her only response. I guess she’s not so attached to her demon errand boy.

I walk to him slowly, savoring the pain I have caused him, maybe a little more than I should. But I know I have yet to unearth, experience, and deal with the pain he has caused. Pain that’s going to change my life. And my marriage.

I stare down at Lu, shriveling into himself as he reaches for his torn wing. He’s twisting on the ground in a puddle of black, like an evil snowman melting away. Every time he tries to flap his good wing a fresh spurt of blood pulse from the one I tore. He looks up at me. Are those tears in his eyes? Oh well. He lets out one more intensely evil scream from the depths of his soul as I ram the bolt into that disgusting hole in his face.

And then, silence. No screams. No taunts. Not even moaning from the bed. The only sounds I hear are my own heart, beating steady and calm, and the wind beginning to batter the top of the mountain. I turn toward the bed, aware of the fact I am, once again, soaked in the blood of a mythological monster, and face my husband and his cohort. During the battle, he moved to sit at the edge of the bed while the sisters huddle against the headboard, as far away from the pool of blood as possible.

Jake’s jaw is on his chest. “What, what, what, what, whatwhatwhatwhat—”

Callie spins to face my husband, her features are cold now. I think I see a bead of nervous sweat forming on her brow. “Oh, shut up, Jake.” She’s not so sweet and friendly now. “Yes, your wife is a badass superhero. But I’m a goddess!” On her last word, the skies flash, and thunder sounds. I jump a little, and she lets out that laugh that now sounds more like wind chimes stuck in a hurricane.

I steady myself and stare at them, huddled together on that bed. “Jake, we’re going home. To our life. To our children.”