He squats down beside my chair. “Right now, I’m searching for options. A loophole. An idea. Anything that could protect us.”
Worry lines bracket the corners of his eyes and mouth. I run a finger down them, smoothing them out. “I hope you find something. We need all the help we can get.”
The serious expression on his face tells me he agrees with me.
“Has Jamison heard anything from Mathias?”
He shakes his head. “Right now, he’s busy vying for a spot in the top ten. They choose the contenders in two days. After that, he’ll try to figure out a way to lure Bennett out with the panel.”
“Are you worried about him?” I bite my lip as I ask. For the last few days, I’ve woken up every night sick to my stomach as I think about the danger he’s in.
“I am,” he admits in a quiet voice. “I know he was a general in the royal army back in Kallias, but that was a long time ago. Jamison says he’s lethal, and I have complete faith in his ability to accurately assess Mathias’ skills. It’s hard, though. We’ve been a team for so long. Splitting up is rare for us.”
I lean in and whisper loudly, “Probably because Gatlin would throw a fit.”
“We’re stronger together,” Gatlin growls from the doorway. “Stop causing trouble. Dinner’s ready.”
I laugh, and the corner of Gatlin’s mouth turns up.
Hawthorne rolls back my chair, grabs my hand, and pulls me up. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s the only one who can cook.”
“Excuse me, but I can cook,” I say as we enter the dining room. Gatlin’s eyebrows rise, and I glare at him. “I made pasta when we were in Italy.” Hawthorne frowns, and I realize he was still out of it when I cooked dinner. “Well, I guess you didn’t get to eat it, but I did let you smell it.”
Hawthorne shakes his head. “Doesn’t count.”
Jamison, however, gives me a sly wink and proceeds to stir up trouble. “I’m sure Gatlin will let you take a turn in the kitchen. What do you like to cook?”
Gatlin’s fork halts midair as if he’s waiting to hear my answer.
“Everything. Chicken enchiladas, pasta dishes, risotto, seafood, you name it. I prefer to eat clean, so I’ve picked up quite a few recipes along the way,” I reply with a smirk. “Maybe Gatlin will let me in the kitchen with him sometime.”
My mouth twitches. It’s ironic that I’m trying to talk Gatlin into letting me cook in my own kitchen, but he’s declared the space his domain.
“I’d love to cook together,” Gatlin remarks, to my surprise, then proceeds to hold up his middle finger toward Jamison,making us all laugh. “Probably one of the few times I’ll have you all to myself.”
“True.” I set down my fork. “We need to go to Athens and check out a temple tomorrow. Hawthorne’s going with me.”
“We’re all going with you,” Jamison inserts before Gatlin can even open his mouth. “And since my powers are fully charged, we’re going to take a portal. Too many people know when we take the jet. Is this for Hera’s scepter or the panel?”
“Panel, but I have to be honest, I think it’s a dead end,” I admit with a heavy sigh. “I’m striking out on both fronts. Hera’s scepter is a myth. There’s no trail to follow.”
Jamison considers me for a second, then lightly shrugs. “You’ll find the answers.”
I hope so. Time is running out for Mathias. And once the vampires crown their next leader, they’ll turn their attention to me and the rest of the panels. The clock is ticking. Loudly.
The Temple of Aresyields nothing except a sunburn because, of course, I forgot to put on sunscreen. We’ve been here all day, searching for the slightest clue, but it’s just piles of stacked rocks. I swipe the back of my arm across my sweaty forehead.
“It’s not here,” I tell them, finally admitting it out loud.
Not that I thought it would be here, but a smidgen of hope had remained. For the first time in a long time, I don’t know where to look next. It’s an odd feeling. like a train stopped in the middle of nowhere.
Planting my feet, I place my hand on the rocks that make up the altar and offer a little prayer to Ares. As I finish, I slip my hands into my pockets, looking for something to offer, and findnothing. Not even a scrap of paper. I bite my lip. I can’t leave here without giving him some token. I need…
Ouch.A sharp corner catches my hand as I stretch to reach my backpack.
“Shit,” I exclaim, lifting my hand to see the damage.
Blood drips from a small gash across the top of my palm. That will work. I drip a couple drops onto the pile of rocks as an offering and scoop up my bag to grab a Band-Aid and some antibiotic cream.
