“Hecate, I love you, but shut up and hold still.” She tosses the wet clothes away. “Blankets?”
“Closet.”
She rushes to the only closet in the tiny space and yanks out four of them. “Of course you have space blankets.” But she says it with relief instead of irritation. “Here.” She wraps one around my lower body and all but shoves me down onto the couch, quickly wrapping a second around my shoulders. “Don’t move.”
I pull my legs up and tuck them against my chest as best I’m able to conserve what little heat my body is producing at this point. This is going to suck. The awful cold is almost enough to distract me from Atalanta cutting Circe out of her pretty dress. Her pale skin is almost blue, and she’s still unconscious. “If you—”
“I’ve got it.” She unfolds the two other blankets on the couch next to me and carries Circe over to lay her on them and then wrap them around her.
My body clenches in a shiver that feels like every one of my bones are breaking. “F-f-f-fuck.”
Atalanta drags off her wet shirt and tosses it in the growing pile of discarded clothing. “Going to get worse before it gets better.” She crouches next to us and reaches into my blanket to tug my foot free.
I jerk it back. “C-C-Circe.” She’s in more danger than I am. I’m shivering violently, which is a bitch to experience but means I’m moving in the right way temperature-wise. Circe, on the other hand, hasn’t woken up.
“Damn you,” she mutters, but she tucks me back into my bright silver blanket, pauses to ensure it’s secure around me, and thenmoves to Circe.
Atalanta systematically checks Circe’s fingers and toes. “She’s a lucky bitch. I don’t think she’ll lose any of these. Assuming she survives.”
I try to give her a sharp look, but I’m having a hard time focusing on anything other than not biting off my tongue. I don’t dare risk talking, but Atalanta doesn’t need my input.
“Sorry. I’m being an asshole. You scared the shit out of me when you dove in after her.” She carefully smooths Circe’s hair back and ensures it’s outside the blanket. “It scared me when she went over, too. I don’t like how much it scared me.”
Circe gives a low moan and her eyes fly open. She tries to lurch forward, but Atalanta plants a hand on her chest, easily keeping her in place. Her expression goes soft in a way I’ve only seen a handful of times. “You’re safe. Breathe.”
Circe gasps in a harsh inhale and then another. Then she begins to shake. Atalanta waits until she’s certain Circe won’t try to move and then rises. “You have tea in this place?”
I nod, or maybe I just jerk my head in a shudder. She doesn’t need any further instruction. She moves around the cramped kitchen, quickly finding some old mugs and washing them while the kettle heats.
Circe slumps down against me, our blankets crinkling against each other. “You s-s-saved me,” she says in between stuttering shivers. “Why?”
I don’t have an answer to that. The smart call would have been to let the river take her, let it end what the ocean began all those years ago. I couldn’t let her go, not then and not now. It’s an intrinsicflaw I don’t think I’ll ever exorcise.
Right now, I can admit to myself that I don’t want to.
27Atalanta
Circe is the worse off of the two, but I manage to get her temperature regulated after some concentrated effort. The moment her shivers ease, she passes out again, this time in a deeply necessary sleep.
I refresh Hecate’s tea and press it into her hands. “I’m going to check outside.” There has been alotof noise, but the only windows in this place are small and have their view blocked by another building. Surely that was intentional to preserve Hecate’s secrecy, but it means it’s virtually impossible to get an idea of how bad it is out on the street.
“That’s not a good idea,” she murmurs. Her gaze slides to Circe and then back to me. “It’s better to lie low.”
“You lie low. She sure as shit needs to.” I push to my feet. “I’mnot going to go far, but we need to know what we’re dealing with. You have this place stocked okay, but it was clearly meant as a stopover foryou, not three of us. We can’t stay here more than a day or two, and even that might be asking too much.” There’s also one other—pretty fucking vital—component. “Once she wakes up, she’s going to be a problem. What’s to stop her from running right back to her people?” What’s left of them, anyway.
“I know.” Hecate sighs. “Go. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
From the way her blinks are becoming longer and longer, she’ll be passed out the moment I turn my back. That’s fine. It means she’s not going to be getting up to nonsense during the few minutes I intend to stick my head out the door.
And maybe walk a few blocks over if that’s what it takes.
I slip out of the apartment and pause to look around. There isn’t a sound coming from the other doors. Either they’re empty, or their residents are smart enough to hunker down in response to the uproar outside. Smarter than me, in any case.
Outside, the sounds feel muted somehow. I don’t bother to flip my hood up or keep my head down as I walk along the sidewalk, listening for the mob in the distance. They’re louder than they were on the bridge, shouting interspersed with screams.
“Fuck,” I breathe. With a guilty glance back at the door I just exited, I head for the tallest building close to me. It’s an apartment building, but unlike Hecate’s place, there is no code on the door. I just walk right in and head for the stairs.
I’m tired. No, tired is a state that can be pushed through. I’m reaching the point of shutting down entirely. My shoulder throbs insistently, but it’s nothing to the way every muscle seems to groanin protest, the way my brain is functioning in fits and starts. All I want is a couple hours of sleep.
