It’s not a jump to know who she’s talking about. “Orpheus isn’t the most reliable.” A neutral statement, since I’m not sure what she needs right now.
“I will never forgive him for this.” Her eyes go cold. “I’ll kill him myself if something happens to Eurydice.”
There’s nothing to say to that that’s remotely helpful. I’ll kill him for you is hardly the kind of romantic statement a person wants to hear, no matter how worried and furious she is right now. I’m saved from having to come up with a better response by our arrival at the bridge.
We screech to a halt and pile out of the car. It feels like a night for people to do bad things, the air cold and close, a low fog drifting up from the river and over the ground. It gives the atmosphere an eerie edge and obscures our vision.
It reminds me of the night Persephone crossed the River Styx.
I follow Persephone to the large columns that the Juniper Bridge has on either side, a clear indication of the boundary on our side of the river. It’s one of the better lit bridges, and I know she’s searching the other side for signs of her sister, just like I am. We were quick, but even on foot, she should be here by now.
“Hades.” The fear in Persephone’s voice is a call I can’t help but answer. She should never, ever be afraid. Not while she’s with me.
“She’ll be here.” I have no business offering this assurance. I don’t know the circumstances, other than Eurydice being pursued.
As if my words summon her, the fog on the other side of the bridge shifts and a woman’s form emerges. She’s not running. She’s stumbling. I can’t make out the details at this distance, but she’s holding her arm close to her body as if it’s injured.
Fuck.
Persephone grabs my arm and utters a wordless cry. She makes it a single step before I catch her around the waist. “We can’t cross the bridge.”
“We—” She doesn’t get a chance to get the rest out. A man moves out of the fog behind Eurydice, a hunting hawk to her injured dove. Persephone goes still, and when she speaks, her voice is freakishly calm. “Let me go.”
If I let her go, she will run to her sister, likely playing into Zeus’s hands. Whether that means snatching her up off the street tonight or a longer game is irrelevant. It will happen.
If I hold her back while something happens to her sister, I’ll lose her long before the end of the winter. More, I won’t be able to live with myself if I stand idly by while this woman is harmed. “Persephone—”
The man hunting Eurydice reaches her and grabs her shoulder, spinning her around. She screams, the sound sharp and terrified. I’m moving before I register that I’ve made a decision. I turn and thrust Persephone into Charon’s arms. “Do not let her cross the bridge.” I’ll be the only one to pay the price for tonight’s transgressions. I won’t allow her to.
She curses and fights him, but Charon wraps her up in a tight hug, pinning her arms to her sides and keeping her immobile without hurting her. It’s enough. I sprint across the bridge toward her sister, running faster than I have in a very long time. Not fast enough. I know that as I reach the halfway point.
Eurydice’s attacker throws her to the ground. She hits with a thump that makes me sick to my stomach, but she doesn’t lie still. She doesn’t even look back at him. She just sets her eyes on her sister and starts crawling toward the bridge.
“Eurydice!”
Persephone’s agonized cry gives me wings. That and the man looming over her little sister. His face is twisted into a fierce scowl. He doesn’t yell, but his words carry over the distance despite it. “Call for your sister, Eurydice. Scream for her.”
I suspected that Zeus is behind this; the man’s words confirm it. I don’t remember pulling my gun, but its cold weight is in my hands as I reach the pillars on the upper city side of the bridge. “Get away from her!”
He finally, finally looks at me. “Or what?” A flash of metal in his hand as he leans down and grabs Eurydice by the hair. “You’re on the wrong side of the river, Hades. Touch me and there will be consequences.”
“I know.” I pull the trigger. The bullet hits him in the wrist of the hand holding the knife, sending him spinning away from her.
One look at Persephone’s sister, and it’s clear Eurydice won’t be able to cross the distance between us. There’s a scarily vacant look in her eyes that I recognize too well. I used to see it in the mirror when I was a child. She’s gone somewhere internal, driven there by fear and violence.