Surprisingly Qetesh tossed the ring at him. By All The Saints, he hated that tiny cursed thing. Intending to let it just fall to the ground. However, he was forgetting the connection he had with it, as it shot straight towards him, almost like a bullet. He attempted to dodge it, but the bloody thing swerved, acting like he was a magnet. Slapping against him high on the chest, and weirdly sticking to him. Nico grabbing at it, the ring sitting right next to the antique silver coin he wore on a string of leather tied around his neck.
It refused to budge. Mierda. Plucking at it again, he felt it move, wriggle, like it was alive. Pulling his hand away he noted the cursed thing was now wedged tightly down on the smallest finger of his left hand, though it couldn’t get past the first knuckle.
That can’t be good. He waited for a moment, expecting Qetesh to batter her way into his thoughts, for a wave of glittering gold to encase and squeeze him down so she could take on puppet master duties. Except he felt absolutely no different.
A loud thump had everyone looking towards the steel shutter doors blocking the entrance. A large dent in the thick metal. And even as everyone watched another thump sounded, the doors reverberating and buckling a little bit more. Drum and the Maat cavalry were determined to tear down those doors.
Hathor hissed out an annoyed sigh. “You never listen, do you? See, this is why I need a do-over baby. You’re a Love Goddess, for Aaru’s sake. You probably had the tiniest of windows to capture him back when he first picked up the ring, but honestly, just look at that handsome stubborn scowly face. You should have moved on the moment he turned down your overtures at the Mount Olympus Party. But no, you’re too obsessive. Neither of you seem to have a clue how to seduce and when to cut bait on a no-hoper.”
“Hey.” Neith whined, shuffling away from the entrance doors as they clanged again, this time lifting off the floor several inches before thumping back down in place. “I was perfectly content running my sex cult. You were the one who called me five years ago, insisting I join your take over the world cause. And I seduced Fred Forrester just fine, thank you very much. He married me, didn’t he?”
“Please, your entire plan was a debacle from start to finish. You didn’t even make sure he’d put you in his will before you killed him. That’s like the first lesson of Black Widow 101.”
“That was not my fault.” Neith screeched. “You were the one who saddled me with Heath Gammon, who had a bucket load of Daddy issues, and wanted to prove to his Godfather that he was nothing like Sopdu. I’m pretty sure he intended to kill me once we got our hands on the Forrest Media Empire officially.”
“Of course he did, demi-gods descended from a War lineage are always major dicks. I expected you to manage the situation. But look where we are now.” Hathor glanced at the doors that jumped at least a foot this time as the determined battering ram thumped against them. “We’ll have to try for the baby another day. Come—”
“No. I’ll get her.” Qetesh raised the sword she was holding, rushing towards Nico.
This time when the steel doors were hit, at least a gap of three feet appeared beneath them for a moment before they thumped back down with a loud thud.
Qetesh, loathing in her eyes, sword raised, raced towards Nico.
Nico scooped up the closest weapon available, the large book Gigi had used to clock Riordan. Holding it up like a shield as Qetesh brought her sword swinging towards his throat. Miraculously the book held, for more than three seconds, before coming apart in two equal pieces in his hands. But at least ithad provided him enough time to duck to the side. Wincing as Qetesh’s sword sliced off a piece of his forearm.
Throwing the pieces of the book in her face he dodged to the left. Ducking again as something, a projectile of some kind, whizzed past his eyes with only inches to spare. He heard Qetesh squeal in pain and swear, even as Gigi gasped Asher’s name.
Mierda. Asher was playing loose cannon baby Rambo again and didn’t seem to understand the concept of friendly fire and foe.
Gigi grabbed Sunny’s carrier, praying the baby recognised her, racing away from the action, grabbing Theo at the same time. Plonking the two car seats on the stage before turning to see what she could do to help. Wincing as several more projectiles headed towards Qetesh. Nico still dodging her swiping sword, unfortunately in the way, hissing in pain as something slammed into him just below the right scapula.
Qetesh meanwhile had a gash across her forehead, blood dripping into her eyes, and a spreading stain just below her hip. Uncaring of the pain, she was motivated. Blaming Nico for resisting her seductive powers, and she clearly had a deep seated need to impress her mother.
Searching around for something that might help, Gigi’s gaze shifted to Canary, lying a few feet away, who suddenly shuddered, the ice encasing him shattering. Oh, thank the Blessed Lady. Scooping him up, cuddling him close to her chest. Yes, he might only be a magical construct but he’d been her faithful ready to die for her again and again companion for over sixteen years, she was more than a little attached to his cute furry purple butt.
Ideally, she could have used him to somehow incapacitate Qetesh, but the demi-goddess and Nico were sparring too closely, there was more than a good chance she’d hit Nico. Which left Hathor and Neith. But to do anything to them she’dneed to get closer, leaving Sunny and Theo unprotected, and that didn’t seem like a good idea either.
Crap, what was she supposed to do? Well, keep low, for a start, as another projectile whizzed overhead. Catching a brief glimpse of a wooden carved knight with a pointy lance. Damn, Asher had somehow managed to tear free some of the small whimsical carved sentinels decorating the tops of the bookcases. And cobbled together heavens knows what into a machine that spat them out at great speed but seemingly lacked much directional precision.
Erik, her cousin who’d carved the figurines, was going to be pissed.
A loud hollow thump, bang and clang rang out, dust falling from the ceiling as the steel emergency doors began to cave inwards. Their rescue party needed to hurry. How much longer could Nico keep dodging a highly motivated Qetesh’s sword?
“They’re coming through, Qetesh.” Neith growled out, limping towards the Portal still shimmering in place on the nearby wall.
“I…” Qetesh screeched in pain, hopping, lifting one barefoot, an enormous viciously pointed three corner jack embedded there. Theo it seems hadn’t been idle whilst chaos had erupted around them.
The break in Qetesh’s concentration allowed Nico to step forward, bring a fist down hard on her wrist, forcing her to drop the sword, even as his other hand came up, gripping her by the throat, squeezing hard, shaking her a little.
“Ni-Nico…” Qetesh fluttered her eyelashes, trying for a seductive look. Ruined by the blood slowly dripping down over her nose, cheeks and chin from the cut on her forehead. “You and I…”
Nico held up his other hand, the tiny silver ring wedged onto the tip of his smallest finger gleamed. “I believe this is yours, and I’m officially returning it to you.” Full of nothing but loathingfor her and her manipulative and controlling ways, Nico slapped his hand against her cheek, the ring reacting like it was a fly and Qetesh was sticky paper. Qetesh’s skin under it abruptly beginning to blacken.
Qetesh howled and shrieked. “Get it off me.” The blackness spreading rapidly, her skin beginning to flake away. Eyes wide and full of terror. Within seconds the side of her face was gone, her nose next, as it spread outwards. Horrified by the sight of Qetesh disintegrating before his very eyes, and not knowing if that blackened disintegrating skin of hers was contagious, Nico released his hold, stepping away. Ten seconds later, not even enough time for Qetesh to cry out again or look to her mother for help, the demi-goddess was nothing but a pile of ash and dirty torn clothes.
“No.” Hathor’s face was contorted in rage. “Qetesh!”
Neith was at her Mother’s side, pulling her towards the Portal, Hathor resisting her a moment, but then the steel doors buckled completely, ripped away on the left side, gaping open. Several large hands appearing around the edge, pushing, straining, the shutter groaning as it was slowly wrenched out of the wall.
