"The prophecy could be interpreted differently," Jean-Marc said desperately. "Lost daughter could mean metaphorically lost, not literally sacrificed."
"I've considered every possible interpretation," Thalia replied. "Cordelia was very clear about the requirements. And honestly? After what Lyra put me through, after seeing what she's done to innocent people, I want this. I want to be the one who ends her."
"There has to be another way," I lamented. "There's always another way."
"Sometimes there isn't," Thalia said softly. "Sometimes the best we can do is choose how our story ends."
CHAPTER 14
The anchors' sudden blaring across Jean-Marc's monitoring system made me jump three feet off my chair, which was saying something given my current whale-like proportions. I'd barely processed Thalia's declaration about sacrificing herself when the sound hit. Seriously, it was like a smoke detector having an existential crisis. The rapid bursts were designed to strip paint and what was left of my sanity.
"What fresh hell is this?" I shrieked at Jean-Marc.
My son flinched, his fingers flying over his laptop. "The anchors are detecting massive magical signatures. They're reading as divine-level threats."
"How many?" Aidon asked, scooping me into his lap. He’d gone into that protective alpha-male mode he did when shit hit the fan.
"There are three separate signatures. Each one registering off the charts, so I don’t think they’re some of Lyra’s experiments. And based on the readings, I’m not sure they’re in our dimension. " Jean-Marc replied, his voice cracking.
"So, they’re not technically here yet," I pointed out, sagging against Aidon's chest.
Shit. I spoke too soon. The air twenty feet from our deck decided to start shimmering. Uninvited guests were about to crash our already spectacular disaster of a day. My heart tried to make a break for it through my throat as three figures materialized in our backyard.
Aidon went rigid beneath me. He’d picked up on something I couldn't. "Oh, fuck me sideways," he muttered, which was never a good sign.
"Friends of yours?" I asked weakly as three incredibly imposing beings manifested on our lawn.
I swore under my breath as I looked over our visitors. The first one looked like someone had plucked her straight from the Parthenon and given her a subscription to Eternal Youth Monthly. She was wearing flowing robes and practically had "immortal pain-in-the-ass" stamped across her forehead. Her power hit me like a freight train made of moonlight and bloodlust. It was wild, untamed, and absolutely itching for a hunt. Those silver eyes of hers were older than civilization itself, packed into a face that couldn't have been more than seventeen.
Something about her tugged at my memory like a half-remembered dream. It was like an annoying itch in the back of my brain that said I should know exactly who this was. But nope—my mental filing system was coming up empty, which was par for the course.
The second figure made my magical senses do a little happy dance before my brain caught up. Oh, right. We were probably all about to die. He would make fast work of me with all that lean muscle. He was also so tall that I had to crane my neck just to get a proper look at him. He had dark hair and eyes that held secrets older than dirt.
The third was a woman, and she made me want to find the nearest rock to hide under. Her power loomed, making the pyramids look like they'd been built last Tuesday by particularlyambitious toddlers. She carried herself with the kind of ancient, patient authority that said she'd been around when the first star was born and would probably still be here when the last one died. Her presence felt like floating in the space between galaxies. It was infinite, cold, and so utterly terrifying that my survival instincts were already drafting my will.
"Bloody hell," I breathed, one hand flying to my belly as the triplets went absolutely bonkers. "Wait a minute..." My eyes widened when I realized why the first one seemed familiar. "You’re Artemis. You made Fiona and the girls your huntresses. And you made Nylah a Relic Keeper."
Aidon's grip tightened around me. "Yes. That is Artemis. And that is Asterion, and Nyx," he nodded to each in turn. "The original patrons of the Pleiades sisters before they were forced to Earth."
Artemis stepped forward. Her expression mixed concern with exasperation. "Hello, Phoebe. I've heard quite a lot about you from our mutual friends across the pond."
"All good things, I hope?" I said weakly.
"I can see you share their talent for attracting catastrophic magical situations," Artemis replied.
"Not nearly long enough since our last encounter," Aidon muttered to the gods. "What brings the old guard to my backyard?"
The male deity—Asterion—gestured toward Jean-Marc's computer with obvious interest. "Your mortal's anchor network has been broadcasting across the celestial realm. It’s quite impressive for someone without divine heritage."
"The magical fingerprints of your mate and children have reached every pantheon from here to Mount Olympus," Nyx added. "We could hardly ignore such a summons."
"Our kids summoned you?" I squeaked. Apparently, my life wasn't complicated enough already.
"The purification ritual at Mount Katahdin created ripples through the divine realm," Artemis explained, moving closer to examine Jean-Marc with obvious appreciation. "Cleansed, that corruption awakened magical frequencies that have been dormant for millennia. If it isn’t stopped, bad things will be unleashed. Fiona's reports about your... unique approach to problem-solving didn't quite prepare us for this level of magical innovation."
"Which means," Asterion said with typical godly bluntness, "your little science project has attracted attention from entities you definitely didn't want to notice you."
"What kind of attention?" I asked while struggling to keep my voice from reaching dog-whistle levels.
