Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I make a sound perilously close to a sob. He’s okay…unless something’s happened to him and his killer stole his phone.
No. Damn it no. I can’t afford to believe that—but I can’t afford to ignore the possibility, either. I glance at the security feeds and go still. Phaedra stalks through the lobby, their casual ambling gait turned into something fierce and angry. I hold my breath, but they don’t exit. Instead, they check themselves, seem to recenter, and wave cheerily at the security guard. Then they head down the hallway deeper into the first floor.
In my direction.
Damn it. I have to move now. I shove my computer back into my bag and rush for the door. I type a quick text as I unlock it.
Me: Meet me where we had a special meal.
It’s a risk. The Dryad is farther away from my current location than Asterion is right now, but I have to believe that he’ll know what I’m talking about and meet me there. If it’s really him. I take a deep breath and pull open the door.
I expected it to lead into a hallway or maybe the basement. It doesn’t. Instead, I am on a little landing just below street level. I can see slices of pale-blue sky in between skyscrapers and hear traffic and people walking. My legs almost can’t conquer the twelve steps it takes to get to street level, but I force myself forward through sheer willpower alone.
I couldn’t run if I wanted to. It’s smarter not to anyway. Instead, I fall into step with a group of what appears to be college girls. One of them shoots me a strange look, but there are enough people out and about that they don’t say anything about it.
It takes everything I have not to glance over my shoulder every other step to see if Phaedra is following. If they were savvy enough to realize I managed to escape through the stairwell, then it’s only a matter of time before they start tracing my steps. Calling a car might be smart, but it would require waiting in one location for it to arrive. As exhausted as I am, it’s still better to keep moving on foot.
The group I’m walking with splits off after two blocks, and only then do I allow myself to look behind me. The sidewalks are busy at this time a day. It’s hard to pick out just one person from the crowd. Phaedra could be ten feet behind me and I’d never know. The thought makes me shudder.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and it startles me so intensely, I almost drop it. My breath catches in my throat when I read the words there.
Asterion: Go through the door on your right.
I turn to my right. At first glance, I have no idea what the store sells. The windows are clogged with everything from wine to blankets to stuffies. Olympus doesn’t get tourists because of the barrier, so I don’t know why they have what appears to be a souvenir shop here, but I duck through the door all the same. Inside, it’s even more claustrophobic. The aisles between racks of clothing and other paraphernalia are so narrow that my body brushes them as I pass.
There’s no one at the counter, and I don’t know if that’s comforting or worrisome. Again, it strikes me that someone could have taken Asterion’s phone. But the only reason I would be on this street at this time is if I was heading from Dionysus’s building to the Dryad. And the only way they would know that is if they understood my reference earlier. There’s no reason to think someone who isn’t Asterion would know. No one saw me with him that night.
I think.
When a familiar shadow falls across me, I almost sob in relief. “Asterion.” But then I get a good look at him. He’s wavering on his feet a little, carrying himself with a brittleness that would be familiar if I could just focus long enough to understand. “What happened?”
“Not here,” he rumbles.
I swallow down the questions bubbling up in my chest and follow him deeper into the store. He has an even harder time with the narrow aisles than I do. But at least with his bigger body knocking the clothing racks out of the way, I’m brushing against fewer of them.
We duck into an employee break room. There’s no employee to be found, but my brother sits in one of the folding chairs with his head in his hands. He looks up as we walk through the door, and a storm breaks across his expression. “You made it.”
My knees choose that moment to buckle. Asterion sweeps me into his arms before I have a chance to make contact with the floor. His grunt is almost silent, but it goes through me like a rocket. “Put me down. You’re hurt.” That’s why he’s moving so stiffly. I should’ve recognized it. I would have if I wasn’t so exhausted.