“Atalanta, if you bleed out because you’re trying to save me, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.”
She stands, hauling me up with her. “You’ll have to be alive to do that, so I’m not worried. Your dumb ass is going to get killed while you’re distracted mooning after that woman.”
“I’m notmooning.” I manage one staggering step, but it’s like being the worst kind of drunk and high. Everythingfeelseven and normal, but my body isn’t getting the message. “And Circe won’t kill me.”
Atalanta curses. “You are too smart to be so naive when it comes to her. Even if I believed that she won’t kill you, her people might very well do it behind her back.” She half drags me to the door and pries it open.
The woman from before lies on the ground, her eyes closed. I catch sight of the steady rise and fall of her chest. Good. She’s not dead. Realistically, it’s one less soldier for us to fight, but with the whole city mobilizing, it wouldn’t make a difference now anyway, and…Circe cares for this woman. I could hear it in her voice when they spoke earlier.
Damn it, Atalanta is right. My head goes a little funny where Circe is concerned. I lean my temple against Atalanta’s shoulder as she pulls me over the fallen soldier. “I can’t be trusted.”
“I’m aware,” she grits out. “This isn’t going to work. Get on my back.” She doesn’t give me a chance to protest—or point out that I won’t be gettinganywhereon my own. She just shifts down and pulls me over her shoulders in a damned fireman’s carry.
“Not very subtle,” I gasp.
“Yeah, well, if we get out of this alive, you can yell at me about it later.” She staggers to her feet again and starts down the hallway—deeper into the university.
Smart. If we go outside, we’re sure to draw attention. We’re not exactly subtle in our current state. Even so, this is dangerous in the extreme, and if they won’t kill me, theywillkill Atalanta. “You have to leave me.”
“Fuck off.” She turns a corner and nearly overbalances, stumbling a little before she finds her feet again.
I can only lift my head a little bit, so my face is pressed against the back of her neck. Now is not the time to notice how damned good she smells. Being hit with the nearly overwhelming urge to follow her spine with my lips is not particularly helpful, either—and not just because I’m more likely to drool all over her instead of doit properly.
Focus. “Atalanta, you’re leaving a trail of blood behind you. We’re not moving fast enough to get out of here before they follow it right to us. Youhaveto leave me.”
“And I’m telling you, woman, that I’ll die before I leave you in her hands.” She keeps going, dogged step after step. “And no matter how good you are, not even you can stop death.”
Shewilldie if I don’t get my shit together. The thought is unacceptable. My grief for Eros lurks just on the edges of my mind, waiting to pounce the moment I’m not in crisis mode—as if that will happen anytime soon. But if Atalanta dies? My brain bounces off the very concept. Shecan’tdie. Not from violence. Not now, when we’ve barely had any life to live for ourselves. Not when we haven’t…
We reach another corner and stumble down the next hall. It’s a damned miracle that we haven’t run into anyone. Circe must have sent the majority of her people out into the upper city to round up the legacy families and whatever members of the Thirteen remain. She had no reason to expect someone would launch a rescue attempt.
I swing my arm off Atalanta’s shoulder, nearly sending my half-limp body to the ground before she grabs me. “Hermes, I swear—”
“I can walk.” Hopefully. “And you need to bandage that wound before you bleed out.”
“We don’t have time.”
“We sure as fuck do,” I snarl. “Not like this, Atalanta.Not like this.”
She curses but lets me slide off her back. “What are you on about?”
I might have been a wee bit overconfident in my ability to walk, but I manage to keep my feet. Mostly. I veer into the wall like a drunken college student. “You are dying in some rocking chair, sixty years from now, surrounded by grandchildren.”
She leans against the wall across from me, panting lightly and pressing her hands to her chest around the knife. “I’m a lesbian.”
“There’s always adoption. Or IFV. Or maybe they’ll be neighborhood kids. Don’t be difficult. You know there are ways if you want children.” I wave that away, my hand flopping unfortunately on my wrist. We’ve never talked about kids. Why would we? Our future ended with the fall of Olympus. Nothing after that could be taken for granted, and if we got too focused on theafter, we ran the risk of skipping a couple steps and being happy now. Happy people don’t bring down governments. “Take off my shirt.”
Her brows wing up. “I hardly think—”
“For abandage.” Even with the circumstances, I can’t help grinning at the way she stammers. “Hurry.”
I’m not much help as she pulls my sweatshirt off, and then my T-shirt after it. The shirt goes over the wound and the sweatshirt ties around her chest and shoulder to keep things as stable as possible. It’s not a great option, but at least she’s not actively bleeding all over the floor now.
In the distance, shouts sound. They know we’re free. “Time to go.”
“Yeah.” Her voice has gone thready. She’s not going to be able to keep this up. Not for long.
I stumble my way to her and do my best to wedge myself under her uninjured side. “Good thing you’re so tall. Otherwise this would be awkward.”
