“Don’t cry, kid,” Nyx hissed, her tongue flicking against my cheek. “I could kill them with one bite. Give me five seconds, and they’re dead.”
Swallowing a sob, wishing I could argue without crying, I rubbed furiously at my eyes.
“Don’t kill them,” I said miserably as I jogged forward blindly.
Nyx clicked her teeth.
“Not yet.”
Nyx hissed proudly. “That’s my girl.”
I clutched at her dry, smooth scales.
“It’s them,” a young voice rang out, echoing off the ruins.
Twenty feet away, three young boys were pointing at me with tattered book bags slung over their shoulders.
Rome wasn’t as dead as it appeared.
They gasped as they looked at something behind me.
I turned.
Achilles and Patro approached, their faces hard, as Poppae and Nero slunk low beside them.
“Holy crap, it really is the Crimson Duo!” one boy yelled, practically bouncing with hero worship.
“I want to be you when I grow up,” another shouted. “I love your muzzle!”
Patro laughed, a forced rusty sound. “Stay in school.”
The boys tittered and sprinted away to tell their friends.
I pivoted away and stomped down a different city street. Cars were overturned on either side and a tree grew smack dab in the center of the lane.
Patro huffed behind me, but didn’t say anything.
I was over Chthonic men.
From what I could tell, they were all emotionally stunted. I’d met organ snatchers who were more well-adjusted than them (there were some good, hardworking harvesters out there).
Now, as the three of us marched in stony silence, my mind turned to thoughts I shouldn’t dwell on—poisonous blood and fractured marriage bonds.
The silence between us grew more strained.
After an hour of walking through the mostly quiet city, we’d seen about a dozen people and nothing else.
There were no signs of monsters.
We’d gone in a giant circle.
Artemis must have had faulty intel. There are no—
Shadows moved in my blind spot. I whipped my head.
Air whooshed.
Thud.
