The air rushes out of my lungs, and despite my best efforts to remain upright, I double over. She snatches the gun out of my hand, ejects the clip, and pops the bullet out of the chamber. “It would bea shame if you started shooting and brought all your friends to the party. This is meant to be a private affair.”
Damn, I had been hoping to do exactly that. I can hold my own when necessary, but I prefer to maintain my aura of carefully cultivated civility. The better for my enemies to underestimate me.
Atalanta steps back and draws a wickedly curved dagger. She flips it, catching the handle easily. “You know, you hurt Hermes terribly when she thought you died. She’s been mourning you this entire time, all while you were living it up in Aeaea. That makes you a shitty fucking girlfriend from where I’m standing.”
Shock has me sucking in the breath I desperately need. Of all the things I expected to come out of this woman’s mouth,Hermeswasn’t on the list. I stumble back a step, my assumptions about this encounter rearranging in real time. Athena didn’t send her. She never would have given orders to save Hermes; she would assume Hermes is more than capable of saving herself. Under normal circumstances, she’d be right. Which means Atalanta is here on her own. “So you’re the new girlfriend. I wondered who else she was working with. She’s good but not good enough to pull this off on her own.”
“What can I say? I’m a helper. Even when it means doing something for her own good.” She eyes me, clearly unimpressed. “She’ll be pissed that I’ve killed you, but she’ll get over it eventually.”
I laugh—a true laugh, loud and harsh. I can’t help it. She’s so damnedfunny. “Like she’s gotten over my dying ten years ago?” I shake my head slowly. My lungs have finally loosened up enough that I can draw a full breath. I shift my stance wider, ready for her to strike. “And her name isHecate.”
“I know,” Atalanta says simply. She lunges, moving far fasterthan I expected her to considering her first attack. I dance back, barely missing the wicked swipe of her knife that would have disemboweled me.
Apparently the time for playing pretend is over. Oh well. I just need to kill this woman so I don’t have to worry about word of my skills getting out. If everything goes well, I won’t be in another fight for my life anytime soon, but it pays to snip away loose ends.
Atalanta is a loose end in a number of ways.
I duck under her next attack, pulling the knife from my boot. It’s only meant to serve as a backup, but I didn’t grow up in the outskirts of Olympus, nearly die in this city, and then work my way up the Aeaean ladder without being sure I can fight for my life if the situation calls for it. This situation clearly calls for it.
Atalanta raises her eyebrows when she sees my knife. “Interesting.”
I don’t give her a chance to see me coming. I strike and strike and strike again, keeping her on the defense and dancing her backward toward the open classroom door behind her. She stumbles and I kick her in the chest, sending her sprawling onto the floor between the desks. I pull the door shut behind me and yank down the narrow shade to cover the window. “There. Now we can be alone.”
Atalanta jumps to her feet and kicks one of the desks away, making more room. “You’re better than I expected.”
“You aren’t the first one to say it.” I examine my blade. No blood. I haven’t gotten close enough to land a hit, but I was more concerned with getting her out of sight. Yes, my people might stumble on us and help, but it’s just as likely that civilians would wander in. That’s a complication I don’t feel like dealing with.
Knife fights are dirty business. It comes down to speed, reflexes, and ruthlessness. Atalanta has it all. Unfortunately for her, I do, too.
She circles me, forcing me to rotate to keep her in my line of sight. When she comes for me, it’s fast, without a single indication that she was ready to attack. I barely get out of the way of her slash, and my parry is weak. She raises her brows at me. “Sloppy.”
“I did not ask for your input,” I snarl. Even as we dance back and forth, our blades flashing in a deadly dance with each other, the familiarity of this bleeds back into my body. I’m out of practice, yes, but some things are written in my very bones.
Atalanta only gets faster, as if the hallway was a warm-up. Maybe, for her, it was. She grins at me, fierce and beautiful, when I score a line across her muscular thigh. “Better.”
Damn her, because the faint praise sings through me. It doesn’t make any sense. This is strictly business. I’m here to kill this woman and remove Atalanta as Hecate’s ally. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me or my skill with the knife. I should not beenjoyingmyself.
“I thought you were just a pretty face.” Her breath comes a little harder now, but not as hard as mine. She kicks a desk at me, and I have to scramble back to avoid it knocking me to the floor. Atalanta wastes no time vaulting over another desk toward me. “Just goes to show.”
“Yeah, well.” I stumble, which is the only thing that saves my life. Her knife veers over my head. She was too sure of me and committed to the movement fully, leaving her open. I step into her, close enough to embrace. Atalanta’s dark eyes go wide as I slide my knife into her upper chest. “I learned from the best. Hecate taughtme everything I know.”
She stumbles back, curled over the wound, taking my blade with her. “Fuck.” Blood gushes over her chest, turning the dark fabric shiny.
“You put up a good fight.” I gently guide her down to her knees, sinking to crouch in front of her. “Better than I anticipated.”
“You are such a cocky bitch,” she rasps. “She’ll never forgive you for this, you know.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I have more time with Hecate—therealHecate—than you do.”
Atalanta grins even as she slumps back against one of the desks, causing it to screech a few inches across the floor. “Wrong.” She sucks in a rough breath, her voice fading. “You changed. She did, too.” Her words worm their way into my mind, sinking greedy fingers into the cracks in my confidence.
I shove to my feet. “It doesn’t matter how much time has passed or what we’ve both done to survive. There’s only one way this ends between us, and it’s with her at my side.”
“Sure it does.”
That’s enough time wasted on this distraction. I examine the placement of my blade. Not the heart or she’d be dead already, but I may have nicked the top of her lung. “You can sit there and die slowly or pull the knife out and save yourself some agony. Your choice.” My people will clean up the mess either way.
I don’t wait for a response as I shove out into the hallway. It’s blessedly empty, which is a damned good thing because I have to press myself to the wall and wait for the shakes to pass. It’s been so long since I’ve fought someone,reallyfought them. Atalanta wouldhave killed me if I’d dropped my guard even once. I hold my hand in front of my face, watching the tremor. I feelso muchin this moment: pain and fear and sorrow for cutting down a magnificent warrior.
