She leans low on Dono’s back. “What?” she asks.
I tap my cheek. “I need a reward kiss, just the cheek though.”
“I don’t think so.” She blushes, it’s adorable, and I’m so fucking glad she doesn’t flinch away from me.
I turn to Dono. "But seriously, the archery gear? What's the deal?"
He shrugs and grins. “Beats me. I was cursing my lack of horns, fangs, dragon breath, you know, and then bam! Instant bowman.”
“The centaur was a natural-born archer, so I’d imagine your form is blessed with the weaponry of your lineage,” Alexis says, sounding like a boring teacher. He’s always been a nerd, but he’s leveled up to full poindexter since the last time I saw him.
I tune him out slightly, focusing on the cute chick.
“Do dragons or minotaurs have traditional weapons?” she asks, her voice soft.
“Minotaurs? I’m pretty sure they would have an axe, something like that,” my cousin answers. “Dragons, though…I think they were, or are, just imbued with natural weapons. Fire, teeth, claws.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, what about hellhounds, Cuz?”Laser Beam-eyes would be cool.
"As far as I can remember,” he says, a wry grin on his face. “Hellhounds don't have any gadgets, sorry, Max."
I’m not fazed. "No biggie. I guess I don't need any tricks to be a harbinger of doom." I flex my fingers and make a couple of practice claw swipes.
"You're not necessarily a portent of disaster," Alexis sighs, ever the buzzkill. "Though knowing you, you could easily be. Hellhounds can also be hunters or guardians."
"Hunters, huh?" I repeat, letting the word roll around my tongue. "Yeah, I could get into hunting. Especially if the prey is pretty."
I give the Theo chick a flirty look. She really is very pretty.
“Do you think Wes had to fight against those skeletons too?” she whispers.
Shit, Wes. Gods, Wes. Where are you?
Hopefully, he also turned into a centaur, then he can gallop away from any trouble. Right?
The girl is looking at the minotaur like he might know the answers. I guess if anyone does, it’s the labyrinth-tour guide dude.
Cosmo runs a hand through his golden locks, looking ridiculously East Coast yacht club for a guy who’s just fought off wraiths from another dimension. “Anyone got thoughts about what those things are?” he says in his posh-twat voice.
I know the twins love this guy, but Cosmo’s douche-to-decent-person ratio is skewed well onto the douche side, most of the time.
“No idea, but it seems like they weren’t able to follow us,” old Lexi says. “Maybe they’re tied to that area of the tunnels? But there definitely could be more obstacles ahead,”
“This is all feeling a little Indiana Jones," Donovan adds.
"Booby traps would be alright," I chime in, "if they had actual boobies."
I'm met with a wall of silence. Whatever.
"Hey, big dude," I say, addressing the minotaur with a grin. "How about you and me lead? You know these tunnels like theback of your hand, right? And I…” I tap my nose, “...have got a nose for trouble. Literally. Canine senses, remember?"
The minotaur lets out a grunt, and there's a flicker of something in his eyes—probably agreement and approval.
"Alright," I say, clapping my hands together. "You guys stick close. I’ve got this.”
“Has there ever been an occasion when you said ‘I’ve got this’ and things worked out?” Cosmo drawls as I flex my muscles and get ready to shift.
“Max! Can you wait a minute? We need to think about next steps,” Alexis adds boringly. It’s no wonder I’m his only friend.
