to feel anything.
Whoever this man is—I’m guessing it’s her father—hasn’t just brought two men with him; he’s brought four. And he has someone on the inside of Olympus too. I’ll deal with that later. For now, there’s Brigit.
Her father looks at me disinterestedly as I go past him, my fist swinging into the face of the first man. The second has time to react. He reaches toward his belt. Brigit ducks out of the way, running for the shadowed part of the alley. It’ll be useless if I don’t get all these men down, and fast.
I break one arm. The man screams, and then someone gets a hand on the collar of my jacket. He goes over my head and onto the ground, where I kick him in the head.
Which leaves three more.
The father goes past me, and I’d kill him if it weren’t for the other two, who have gotten out of their van and run over into danger without a care in the world. I deliver that care back to them one by one. Another broken nose. A broken knee.
I want to kill them.
I want to kill them so much.
It’s so frustrating, not killing them. But if I do, then there are domino effects. The party is in a matter of hours. Money will change hands all throughout my business. Deals will be made. All of it will be easier if there aren’t bodies to move, to cover up. If I kill five men right now, then that’s the topic of conversation tonight. I can buy removal of their bodies from my alleyway. It’s much harder to buy silence.
Five men.
I turn around to find Brigit’s father walking her toward me, her arm twisted up behind her back. The sight of him touching her—of anyone touching her—tightens my chest and my fists. Maybe I will kill them all. But for a few more steps, I watch him.
There is something deeply wrong with Brigit’s father.
For one thing, he doesn’t seem to notice I’m here.
Me.
The tallest person in the alley, and the one with four men either crawling or hobbling away from him.
Brigit’s father tries to sidestep me.
What the fuck?
I grab the front of his shirt and haul him in front of me, breaking his grip on her with one hand. “Where do you think you’re going with my property?”
He looks up at me, eyes wild, and giggles. “Your property? This is my own daughter. She’s engaged. It’s a formal contract. Signatures have been signed, and everyone will be so happy in the end.”
“She dissolved her contract. The only one still in force is the one with me. If you keep going, I’ll have to intervene. Of course you understand.”
He reaches for her arm again. Brigit backs away toward the wall. What is she doing? A wall won’t save her. I catch her father’s wrist in my hand and squeeze until he gasps. “Brigit,” I prompt.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want me to kill your father?” It’s not really up to her. Everything that happens now is up to me. But it seems like a common courtesy. “I’m giving you one more choice. Make it quickly.”
A beat.
“Not now,” she says.
I break his nose instead.
Her father’s hands fly up to his face, and I throw him toward the car. “Get the fuck away from here.” One of his men has already reached the car and opened the door. The other hauls himself up to his feet and comes for their leader, who is too busy clutching his nose to look where he’s going. They bundle him into the back of the car and drive away.
It’s all wrong; something’s wrong, but I can’t decide what it is. There are too many variables. Demeter is clearly on the loose in the city. My sister is a danger when she doesn’t want revenge, and she wants it now—no question. Against me. Against Hades. Recent events have driven her mad. Brigit’s father, crumpling so easily. And the uncle. Why hasn’t he made a move yet? He must know she’s here.
Brigit makes a wounded noise, and all of it dissolves into white noise.
She’s still standing with her back against the wall, her face blank.
I wait for her to fall.
But she doesn’t.
She stares straight ahead, not moving except for the tiny circle of her forefinger against her thumb. Out here, up against the height of my building, she looks smaller than she ever has. Small things can be dangerous too. Like land mines. Or hand grenades. The pin has already been