Demigods and Monsters (The Sphinx Book 2)

by Raye Wagner

  Athan walked through the door, and an awkward silence descended. He gave Xan a brief nod, but his attention skimmed right past Hope.

  Hope brushed past the boys and over to the counter. It was only then that she realized she was the only girl in the room. “Hey, where’s Dahlia?”

  While she wouldn’t say she was close to Dahlia like she’d been with Haley, the daughter of Eris was the closest thing she had to a girlfriend.

  He frowned. “She and Thenia took Obelia and Kaia shopping.”

  All the women gone? These guys were big trouble if even Dahlia didn’t stick around.

  “Well, let’s have some dinner,” Ty said with a sneer. “Little Aunt, what are we having? What are you making for us?”

  Hope studied each of the men in the room. Ty, Tre, and Endy all issued challenges with their eyes. Prax looked aloof. Both Xan and Athan appeared tense.

  “She’s not your servant, Ty.” Xan pushed past him and put his arm around Hope’s shoulders. “So don’t be an arse.”

  “Oh. It’s like that, then?” Ty smirked. “Well, I’m going out to get something to eat. Prax, Tre, you coming?” He glanced to his brothers.

  Endy stood, hope shining in his eyes.

  “Oh, very well. You can come too, little brother.” Ty sounded like he was throwing scraps to an annoying dog.

  The four blond boys left the kitchen. The very walls seemed to sigh with relief.

  Hope would need to be very, very careful.

  THERE WAS A TAP ON HER DOOR.

  “Are you ready to go?” Xan asked.

  “Yeah, just need to put my boots on,” Hope hollered back as she zipped up the knee-high black leather biker boots. They were steel-toed, which wouldn’t make a difference with Skia, but it made her feel tougher all the same.

  “If you have immortal weapons from your mom, you should bring them.”

  That was the other reason she wore the boots. Each had a sheath, made specifically for her mismatched pair of blades. The immortal weapons were hers now, but her grandmother had taken them from other demigods. They were from her mom, but not the way Xan meant it. She’d kept the blades hidden in her room since being at the conservatory, but after Endy’s not-so-veiled threat, she’d started wearing the blades in her boots.

  Hope pulled open the door. “Ready.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  They walked down to the kitchen together.

  Xan and Thenia made the assignments. They would break into groups of four. One group would go to the market and the other to the warehouse store to stock up. The three sons of Apollo had left on a tip about the monster they were hunting. Hope wasn’t sure if Athan had thrown them the false information or if they’d gotten lucky, but she was glad to have them gone. Too bad they wouldn’t take Endy with them.

  “Each of you has a buddy, and you stick to your buddy like glue.” Xan looked pointedly at each of them. “Consider it a lesson in teamwork.”

  “Endy and Athan. Thenia and Dahlia. Hope and Obelia—”

  Obelia? Hope’s hand went up.

  “No way,” Obelia protested.

  Xan flinched, and his lips flattened. “Don’t argue with me, Obelia. You can do something different when you make the assignments.”

  “Which happens never,” she muttered.

  Hope dropped her hand. Why would Xan put her with Obelia?

  “All right, people. Let’s go.”

  Hope hurried to catch up to him. “What the—?”

  “I know what you’re going to say.” His jaw was set, but his eyes pled for understanding. “It’s not what you think.”

  Hope crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  Xan squared his shoulders. “You’re a good fighter. Probably better than Dahlia now. But don’t tell her I said that.” He scanned the kitchen, but the other demigods had gone out to the garage. “I always pair my good fighters with the ones that suck. It gives everyone an even chance.”

  Of course Obelia sucked, but . . . “What about Thenia?”

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She’s great at strategy, but she sucks. And she always goes with Dahl. Sorry, luv.”

  “Fine.” Not really, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  They walked into the garage, and Hope stopped. Obelia and Endy sat in the back of a black sedan. Together. Which could only mean . . .

  “Get in, Hope. We’re waiting on you,” Athan said. He slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door.

  Anxiety churned her stomach, but she crossed to the car to get in.

  WANDERING PIKE PLACE MARKET in awkward silence was awful. During the drive, Obelia kept trying to get Athan to talk to her, but he returned only monosyllabic responses, and by the time they parked she was seething silently. For whatever reason, Endy was as withdrawn as Hope, so for almost two hours the only conversations were between Athan and the vendors.

  “Here you are, young man,” the Asian man held out a white grocery bag filled with apples.

  Athan exchanged cash for the bag and extended it to Hope. “Can you carry one more bag?”

  She rolled her eyes. She held a bag of oranges and another filled with herbs in one hand and bags of potatoes and carrots in the other.

  “Sure.” She reached out and grabbed the apples.

  “How much longer are we going to be?” Endy asked, shifting from foot to foot, his hands conspicuously empty.

  Athan gritted his teeth. “Only a couple more things on the list, then we can go.”

  It wouldn’t take much momentum to swing the bags and hit Apollo’s son. Hope contemplated smacking him, and a deep sense of satisfaction came with the thought. Was there a way to make it look like an accident?

  “This is boring,” Endy huffed. “Whatever. I’m going to go get donuts.” He stalked off.

  Hope’s mouth gaped. What in the name of Olympus was he thinking? The moment of shock was all it took for him to be swallowed by the crowd.

  “How many Skia have you seen?” Athan asked Obelia.

  “I don’t know. Maybe one?” Obelia’s wide eyes scanned the crowd.

  Hope wanted to tell her it was too late to start now.

  Athan turned to Hope. “How many?”

  “At least five, but all alone and in shadows.” And none that she recognized. If Skia worked together, the demigods wouldn’t stand a chance.

  He ground his teeth and pointed at the street. “Go out in the sun. I’ll go get Endy.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to stay together?” Hope asked, but by the time the words were out, she was talking to Obelia. Athan had dodged into the crowd and disappeared.

  Obelia held up her hands, revealing several bags in each. At some point, she’d gotten saddled with Endy’s share. Between the two of them, they had all the bags. Of course.

  Hope shook her head. “Come on.”

  She stepped into the waves of people who would carry her to a break in the tents.

  “You don’t have to be rude,” Obelia said following close.

  Hope frowned. “I wasn’t being rude.”

  “Not to me. To Athan. It wasn’t his fault, you know.”

  What? Hope turned around, but the demigod was fixated on the ground and refused to meet Hope’s eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Hope stopped as she recognized the surroundings. They were by the artesian stalls where she and her mom had bought scarves. Was that only a year ago? It seemed like so much longer—

  “Sure you do,” Obelia said, her voice drawing Hope’s attention back to her. “It’s not like he can say no—Skata!” Obelia’s eyes dilated, and she dropped her bags. Tomatoes and onions spilled onto the ground, rolling underfoot of the pedestrians.

  “What’s the . . .” Hope knelt to try to rescue the produce, and she saw them.

  Two Skia stepped from the shadows behind a table laden with jewelry, their black eyes and tell-tale leer startlingly frightful.

  “Go. Go!” Hope yelled. If th
ey could get out on the street, maybe . . .

  But Hestia’s daughter stood rooted.

  Time meant nothing.

  Hope pushed Obelia with her shoulder, but the smaller demigod only stumbled to the ground. Dropping her bags, Hope grabbed Obelia’s arm and yanked her upright. “We need to go, now!”

  Hope shoved through the throng, closing the distance to the gap that would lead them outside. She glanced behind her. They weren’t going to make it. The Skia were right behind them.

  “Go.” Hope ushered Obelia toward the opening with one hand and, with the other, pulled her knives from her boots.

  “Skia!” Hope shouted in an attempt to draw the creatures’ attention to her.

  “She’s got a knife!” a vendor yelled.

  Several took up the alarm. “Skia!”

  Screaming began in earnest, and the pedestrians pushed to get away. Mayhem ensued, and Hope stood, blocking the exit to the street. The two shadow-demons leered at her as they drew closer. What was left of the crowd dissolved into the periphery until her world consisted of her and the Skia.

  “Don’t think we’re after you, monster,” one rasped. “We want the demigod.”

  “Over my dead body,” Hope replied, holding out her immortal blades.

  “Little monster, you don’t know what you mean. She would kill you if she knew what you are.”

  It didn’t matter that he’d spoken the truth. Hope skirted to the side, effectively putting one Skia in front of the other, and then she lunged. The Skia in front jumped out of her way, and she caught the one behind it unprepared. Her blades sliced across his abdomen, and she followed the knifing with a kick, effectively pushing him back.

  “Stop now.” A cold blade rested at her throat.

  He had baited her, and she’d fallen for it!

  “Why do you fight for the demigods?” The stench of decay on his breath carried over her shoulder, making her eyes water.

  “I need answers.” She clenched her blades, weighing her options.

  “And you think they have them.” He breathed on her neck. “You smell so alive, and not altogether monster . . .”

  He was smelling her? Gross!

  She gritted her teeth and pushed closer to the Skia. His hand relaxed, his blade dipping. She dropped one of her knives and grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand down away from her neck, away from her chest. She doubled over, and with the other hand she shoved her blade back to deliver a death strike.

  The blade never struck.

  The Skia were gone.

  She bent, retrieved her blades, and then slid them into her boots.

  “Oh my gods!” A woman rushed to her side. “Are you okay? Did you fight them? You must have—”

  “I’m fine.” Hope pushed away, but a crowd materialized around her, and she bumped into someone else.

  “You all right there, demigod? You must have put up quite a fight.”

  She ignored the chattering voices and made her way outside.

  Obelia stood in the sun, her eyes wide. “You’re alive.”

  Hope nodded and glanced at the shadows, but something in her gut told her they wouldn’t be coming after her again. If the Skia were sent to kill her, the one could have done it when his blade was at her throat. What was going on?

  “Well, nice.” Obelia scowled.

  “What?”

  Obelia pointed behind Hope at the growing crowd. “It looks like—”

  “Excuse me, could I get your autograph?” A young man pushed between the two immortals and addressed Hope. “I can’t believe that you’re a—”

  “Are you really a demigod?” a woman shouted above the din.

  “Hey, demigod! Who’s your momma?”

  “Demigod, come here!”

  The voices clamored.

  Hope grabbed Obelia’s arm and pushed toward the donut stall. “It looks like what?”

  Obelia glared daggers.

  “You’ve got a fan club,” she finished as Athan and Endy crossed the cobblestone street.

  “What in the name of Hades . . .” Athan regarded the two girls then at the growing mob following them. His nostrils flared, and he glared at the crowd. “Get in the car.” He ducked his head.

  “But the food—”

  “No time to worry about that. You’ve exposed us.”

  Dozens of people crowded the street, phones out, likely snapping pictures. With a swallow, she tucked her chin to her chest, her hair falling like a curtain on either side of her face. She ran to catch up to the others.

  THEY PULLED INTO THE GARAGE, and Athan put his hand on Hope’s knee.

  “Stay a moment?” he implored, his voice melodic.

  Hope remained in her seat, even though every muscle in her body begged to run.

  Endy exited as if the vehicle would explode any moment, and he slammed the door shut so hard the entire car shook.

  “Athan?” Obelia fidgeted in the back. “When you’re done, will you come find me, please? I really—”

  He shifted and faced the demigod. “Of course ’Belia,” he said. “You can wait in my room if you want.”

  Hope’s heart stopped.

  “Thanks.” Obelia left.

  In his room?

  “What in the name of Every. Single. God. Do you think you were doing? You could’ve gotten killed!” He glared at her.

  Was he kidding?

  “What was I supposed to do? Nothing?” She swallowed back something green and ugly.

  He flinched. “Hades, no. Why would you say that? It’s just . . . I can’t believe you didn’t run. Why didn’t you run?”

  “And leave your precious ’Belia?” She pursed her lips. “If I didn’t do anything, they would have gotten her.” And then what conversation would they be having?

  Athan ran his hand through his hair. His woodsy scent filled the small car. “Don’t you get it?”

  “No, Athan, I don’t get it.” She pushed back the tears, putting the heels of her hands over her eyes. “Don’t act like you care. I can’t take it. I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but—”

  Athan covered her mouth with his hand, his rough skin chaffing her lips.

  The contact was electric, and Hope’s hands fell to her side.

  “Don’t put words or motivations on me,” he said as he withdrew from her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I get that you don’t want my help, and that’s fine. But don’t judge me.”

  Before she could formulate a coherent thought, Athan was outside the car and closing the door.

  Hope dropped her head into her hands, her emotions a tangled mess. His scent lingered in the car, and she sat back, breathing it in. Gods, she was such a mess.

  She heard a door slam, then someone yelling. With a deep breath, she opened the door.

  “—but everyone is okay,” Athan was saying when she got into the kitchen.

  Hope closed the kitchen door, and both Athan and Xan stopped, their focus aimed at her. The two young men stood inches from each other; their anger roiled through the room.

  “Hope, thank gods.” Xan crossed the kitchen and pulled her into a hug. He sighed into her hair. “I can’t leave you alone for one afternoon without trouble finding you.” He brushed his hand down her back.

  Hope peeked over Xan’s shoulder where Athan glared at them.

  “I’m fine.” She pulled away.

  “What happened?” Xan led her to the table and sat, pointing at the chair next to him.

  Hope remained standing. Athan stared at her, and she shifted from foot to foot. Part of her wanted to hug him, to have him hug her. But whatever this was going on between them wouldn’t even let her get near.

  “Did you kill them?” Athan asked. “Did your immortal blades pierce their hearts?”

  Xan’s gaze went from Athan to Hope. “You have immortal blades?” His face relaxed. “A great fighter and blades. I won’t worry so much.”

  “No. I didn’t get their hearts.” She hated to admit it. S
omehow it felt like failure.

  Athan frowned.

  “But you sent them back to Hades, anyway,” Xan continued. “That’s awesome that you have your mom’s blades. I didn’t even know Leto had blades.” He smiled like she’d won the lottery.

  “Yeah, good thing,” Athan said, his tone flat.

  But it didn’t feel like a good thing. Hope scowled at him. If he were any closer, she’d hit him. “Why are you being such a jerk?”

  Xan crossed the floor in a blur. “You know, Athan, if anything, you should be singing her praises right now. If Hope hadn’t saved Obelia, you’d be sitting at a tribunal for your disregard of the rules. Don’t be an arse. Thank her.”

  The color seemed to drain from Athan’s face.

  “You’re right.” He faced Hope. “Thank you.”

  And then he left.

  A tribunal? What the Hades was that? Hope looked at the empty doorway, then at Xan, and then back to the doorway. Why was everything such a mess?

  “Hey, come talk to me,” Xan said, touching her shoulder.

  Fear clenched her heart, and she brushed off his hand. “Not now. I need a minute.”

  She fled to her room.

  HOPE DID HER BEST to avoid everyone. She got up early with the intent to spend the day in the back of the library. She spent hour after hour reading the pages of the dusty tomes. For whatever reason, she was able to read the writings of the Moirai, or at least these. What had Dahlia said, something about only the pure? That had to be a mistake.

  Hope finished another book about Apollo’s curses, this one about the men and women who had refused him and had somehow gotten turned into plants. She hadn’t realized there were so many. And who would want to be a tree? She almost laughed at herself. Who would want to be a Sphinx?

  By halfway through the day, she was lonely. Lonely and bored. Somehow, she was no longer used to solitude, and she took the next book and went to find a comfortable chair.

  A few hours later, Xan came into the study and stood in front of her. “Here you are.”

  Hope was curled up in front of a crackling fire. She marked the page and then set the book facedown.

  “Hey, Xan.” Hope had spent the last several days making herself scarce. The amount of tension between the demigods gave her anxiety, and she seemed to be stepping in the middle of something every time she moved. But seeing Xan alone in the study seemed like old times, and she smiled up at him. “How was your day?”