My laugh goes more than a little breathless as she skates a hand down my side, her destination obvious. “Wait, wait, we can’t get distracted. We have to meet Charon at eight.”
Medusa makes a show of looking at the clock. “It’s seven.”
“And if we get started, it will be hours.” I kiss her quickly. “I need to get ready. We’ll have one shot at this, and we can’t afford to mess it up.”
She eases off me, her dark eyes going worried. “Promise me something.”
“What?”
“Promise me that you won’t bargain anything away for me. That if this person asks for something outrageous or unforgivable, that we’ll leave Olympus. Together.”
“I promise,” I lie.
CHAPTER 10
MEDUSA
Calypso is lying to me.
I can’t even be mad about it because she’s doing it for me. I can see it in the determination on her face when she thinks I’m not looking. She’s willing to bargain herself to ensure I stay safe. I won’t let her make that sacrifice, but there’s no use fighting about it until I know the parameters of the arena. First, we meet this leader. Then, we’ll figure the rest out.
After we get ready, Calypso leads me down to the main entrance where a white guy with artfully styled black hair is waiting. He doesn’t smile when he sees us, which makes me like him better. My instinct says that this guy is a soldier like me, though he’s out in the open where I clung to the shadows. He takes me in, but he doesn’t stare at my scars the same way some people do. It’s not enough to make me warm to him, but I don’t hate him on sight so that’s something.
“Like I said, I got you a meeting, but after that, it’s beyond my control.” He directs this to Calypso. “So, make a good impression.”
“I always make a good impression.” She’s got her charming facade in place, though it’s dampened a bit. I don’t know if that’s for his benefit or for mine.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Come on.”
I expect him to take us to a vehicle, but instead we start down the sidewalk. The morning is brisk and clear, and I sneak a glance at Calypso to see if she’s warm enough. My jacket is hardly a thick one, but I’m happy to wrap it around her. In fact, I kind of want to.
The thought barely crosses my mind before I’m following through on it. I shrug out of the jacket and drape it around her shoulders. She opens her mouth like she might argue, but instead snuggles down into it in a way that makes my heart thump too hard.
Girlfriend.
She wants to be my girlfriend.
If I keep looking at her, I’m going to trip over my own feet, so instead I turn my gaze around us. I only got the vaguest of impressions of the lower city last night while I snuck around like a, well, like an assassin. In the cool light of morning, it’s rather charming. The storefronts are an eclectic mix of styles that should look mismatched but feels intentional the same way a patchwork quilt is intentional. Every so often, I catch sight of carved pillars on either side of a doorway, but Charon’s pace discourages lingering.
If we pull this off, there will be plenty of time to explore. I’ve never been one to overly care about my surroundings—not when I went through great lengths to avoid being noticed—but there’s something about this area that draws me.
Charon takes us around a corner and I almost stop short. Before us rises what appears to be a Victorian mansion. It’s such a strange place for a mansion, let alone one of this style, that it seems plopped down in the middle of the lower city as if placed here by a giant.
This is, of course, right where we’re led. Charon walks through one of the massive front doors. Calypso and I exchange a look and follow him in. She seems certain that he’s on the up and up, but I brush my hands over the hidden hilts of my knives, mentally preparing to fight our way out if it comes to that. So far Charon is the only person I’ve seen, but surely a building like this has a full security force? Especially if the leader of the lower city is here.
“If you don’t stop fingering your weapons, I’m going to take them from you.” He speaks over his shoulder without looking at me.
I drop my hands, and then curse myself for doing it. “You can try.”
“I don’t mean you any harm.” He stops in front of a door and finally looks at me. “No one here does unless you plan on trying to attack one of ours. I let you keep the knives as a courtesy.”
My skin heats under his direct stare, embarrassment making me want to shuffle my feet. Gods, how can he make me feel chastised when I haven’t actually done anything wrong? It takes effort to hold his gaze, but I manage. “I have no intention of harming anyone here unless they attack first.”