Jo opened her mouth to object, but the words never left. His hands were around her throat, compressing.Could she even be killed by strangling as a demigod?Jo didn’t know; all she felt was her mind swirling with the panic of knowing she would have to undo a life.
“Do it!” Pan screeched. Jo’s eyes pressed shut against the sharpness of the noise.
Another forest, another man—men—warped by Chaos’s magic chasing her. It was a time of gods and the great war for the future of it all. She was Destruction. Creation came for her then. He told her . . . Told her . . .
A gunshot shattered the trance.
Jo’s eyes opened wide and she took a gasping breath of air as the man’s hands slid from around her neck. He fell to the ground with a dull thud, illuminated by the lights and sounds of the city once more. Jo blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the nighttime brightness of the city lights that suddenly seemed blinding.
“Are you okay?” Takako’s voice had never sounded so concerned, and so welcome. With a click of the safety, she holstered her gun and rested her hand on Jo’s upper arm.
“I think so.” Jo rubbed her throbbing neck. The pain was already subsiding. If anything, it felt even better than before. Her eyes dropped to the body of the man—or, where the body should’ve been. Light was cracking through his skin from the inside out and, all at once, he burst with a series of sparks and flurry of confetti that faded to ash on the wind.
“Good, because I think we should move.” Takako’s eyes weren’t on her, but the confused couple staring with slack jaws across the street. “I don’t know what people are used to in this Age of Magic, but in our time, that would’ve looked a lot like a murder.”
“You’re right.” Jo barely had time to finish her sentence before she was being tugged along by Takako. Within a few steps, she was keeping pace with the woman as they ran back to Wayne’s building. “What were you doing out?”
“Following you.” Takako glanced over her shoulder, though Jo had nearly caught up to her. “I was worried Pan might try something . . .”
Instinct told Jo to be offended, that she wasn’t someone who needed to be coddled or protected—especially not now, as a demigod. But the thought of someone chasing after her. Of someone trying to protect her . . .
Creation. A forest. A plan.
Jo stopped so fast her momentum had her tripping over her own feet in a short series of hops.
“What is it?” Takako stopped as well, spinning in place, eyes scanning behind them for any further pursuers. Luckily, there were none.
“An arrow,” Jo heard herself whisper on half-second delay, mouth catching up to her rampant thoughts.
Takako stared at her in confusion. “What?”
“It wasn’t a spear of darkness.”
“Spear? Are you talking about your vision in Pan’s room?”
“It was an arrow.” Jo straightened, closing her eyes and trying to sink into the memories of a time she barely remembered. “Hunt,” she whispered, as if invoking the name of the ancient bow-wielding goddess could make it all clear. Jo’s eyes snapped open. “Samson. We have to go to Samson.”
Chapter 6
Champion
Jo wasn’t sure her feet even hit the floor until she landed in the elevator. “Bouncing from foot to foot won’t make it go any faster,” Takako panted softly. Jo didn’t think they’d been running—well,sprinting—that fast. She was hardly out of breath, but Takako’s lips were parted and her cheeks flushed slightly. “Care to share just what is going on?”
“I need to see if Samson has something.” Jo hoped the feeling in her gut, that nagging one that was finally beginning to play connect-the-dots with all the odd experiences she’d had over the past few months, was one to be believed. She clung to the memory of being in his room at the Society, of a special arrow in the quiver hung on his wall. “If not, he can help give us clarity on the arrow.”
The doors dinged just as Takako was going to ask another question.Saved by the bell, Jo thought. The second they were halfway open, Jo darted through, starting for the main entry to the penthouse and to Samson’s room, Takako close behind.
A strong arm around her waist stopped Jo just short of the door. Jo twisted, looking back at Takako questioningly. The woman immediately eased her grip.
“I don’t think Samson’s the type to like people just barging into his room. Especially not when they’re likely going to startle him from sleep in the process.”
“You’re right.” Jo took a deep breath, regaining her composure. The last thing Jo wanted to do was offend or distress their crafter.
So, with a much more restrained step, Jo crossed over to his door, lifted her hand, and knocked gently. She leaned in toward the wooden door—Wayne, and all his love for expensive things, had huge carved slabs of wood for doors, so thick that Jo wouldn’t be surprised if her knock hadn’t transferred at all. She listened, and heard nothing. Jo tried again with another knock and a soft “Samson?”
That was when she heard muffled noises from within and eased away. Takako was leaning on the wall opposite, arms crossed over her chest and seemingly content to watch the whole scene unfold before her. The door cracked open, revealing a sliver of a face and a tuft of orange fuzz that had escaped his tight braids.
“Jo? Is everything all right?”
