Page 61

“Can Cerberus help?”

Cerberus barked enthusiastically from beneath the table. “I’ll supervise,” one of his heads said.

“Well then,” Ismene laughed, “my assistant can supervise.”

As Korinnae launched into another barrage of questions about phyllo dough and butter, Ria tilted her head toward the front door, silently telling him, Now. He caught on instantly. Without a word, the two of them slipped into the hallway and eased the front door open, careful not to make a sound. They stepped onto the porch, and the door clicked softly shut behind them. For a long moment, they simply stood there listening. Nothing. No one called after them, and no footsteps came racing through the house in pursuit.

“We made it.” She let out a relieved breath.

“The lass saved us,” he chuckled.

She smiled as she looked back toward the house. “That little girl…”

“…is exactly like her mother,” he finished.

She looked at him for a beat before they burst into laughter.

They left the house and made their way toward the subway station, weaving through pedestrians who seemed to know exactly where they were going. Asterion took it all in with curiosity as she led him through the turnstiles and onto the platform. A gust of air rushed through the tunnel a heartbeat before the train thundered into view, screeching to a stop in front of them.

The subway rumbled beneath the city as it carried them toward Manhattan, the rhythm of the tracks filling the pauses in their conversation. She settled into her seat with a sigh, grateful that Hecate’s glamour was holding. To everyone else on the train, he wasn’t a towering minotaur with sweeping horns. He was simply another man on the subway.

What kind of man, though, she had absolutely no idea. But judging by the number of women who kept sneaking looks in his direction, Hecate had apparently decided he was exceptionally attractive. One woman looked up from her phone three separate times before pretending she’d been looking out the window all along. Another nudged her friend and subtly pointed.

Tall, dark, and handsome, she guessed. Or maybe tall, dark, and ridiculously broad-shouldered. Actually…knowing Hecate, she probably glamoured him into looking exactly like himself, just human. The thought lingered in Ria’s mind a little longer than she cared to admit, and she quickly shook it away.

Beside her, Asterion seemed blissfully unaware of the attention. His focus was entirely on the city rushing past outside the windows, his eyes taking in everything with fascination. Every time the train stopped, he watched new passengers climb aboard as though trying to understand the strange rhythm of Upperworld life.

“So many people,” he murmured.

“You get used to it.”

“I don’t think I ever could.”

“Give it a week,” she smiled.

His attention shifted again as a trio of teenagers carrying a speaker squeezed into the middle of the subway car.

“Oh no,” she muttered.

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

One of the teenagers announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s showtime!”

“Showtime?” he looked at her.

Before she could answer, the music started. One teenager grabbed the overhead pole while another launched into a series of spins and flips that somehow fit within the small space. A second dancer swung effortlessly between the poles, his feet missing the seated passengers by mere inches.

Asterion’s brows rose.

A dancer spun into a handstand before kicking one leg through the air, his foot stopping less than an inch from an older man’s book. The close call didn’t earn so much as a glance. The man simply turned the page, completely unfazed, as though acrobats performing inches away from him were just another ordinary part of the city’s rush hour routine.

“How…” he said slowly, “has no one been kicked in the face?”

“Oh, people have.” She laughed.

The dancers launched into another synchronized routine, weaving between standing passengers with unbelievable precision.