The Power

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “He’s still with that woman, isn’t he?”

  “Yep.”

  We’d arrived in Vegas last night, about an hour or so before midnight, picking a hotel far from the strip, where only the dazzling and flashing lights could reach us. Of course, the moment Hercules’s feet touched the pavement, he was off. Kind of couldn’t blame him. The last time I’d been in Vegas had been with the Titan Perses, and if you looked up the definition of drunken debauchery, there would be a picture of Perses and me.

  This time was different.

  The flashing neon lights, the alcohol, the girls and the hyped-up atmosphere held no allure. Once I’d closed the hotel door behind Josie and me, I didn’t reopen it until this morning.

  Like an old man, ball and chain included, and I was fucking a-okay with that.

  But Hercules obviously had had a rough and interesting night.

  He showed up this morning smelling like a distillery, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, except the Henley was torn and he must’ve forgotten to button his pants. And he wasn’t alone.

  Hercules literally tried to convince us to allow some chick who was wearing cut-off jean shorts and a bra to come with us. Not going to happen. I looked over, past Josie. Now he was impregnating the chick’s mouth with his tongue.

  Gods.

  “Huh,” Solos said, tipping his head onto the back of the seat. “Good thing demigods can’t get STDs.”

  “I’d be more worried about what he’d give her,” Josie commented.

  True dat.

  Finally, he hauled his huge ass into the SUV and, thank the gods and all their screwed-up glory, he passed out the moment we hit the freeway that fed into southern California and stayed that way the rest of the trip, proving that the gods sometimes smiled down on us.

  Josie

  California was shiny.

  Well, at least southern California was. The sun was . . . everywhere. Big and round in the endless blue sky, glinting off the roofs and windshields of the nonstop stream of cars barely moving on I-405. Waves of heat rolled off the asphalt, and even with the air conditioner on full blast, the warmth was creeping into the vehicle.

  Six hours in the car was painful and the windy mountainous roads with Seth behind the wheel had me thankful more than once that I was a demigod, but the place was . . . gods, I’d seen nothing like it before. The peaks and bluffs were vast and beautiful, and I wanted to stop at one of the many look-out points, but figured no one would appreciate that.

  I’d rolled down the window and the roaring warm air lifted my ponytail and washed over my skin as we’d raced up Kanan Road. The moment we crested the last hill and the ocean came into view, I almost forgot about what we were here to do.

  The sea was endless.

  A shade of blue that grew deeper and brighter the closer we got. I’d never seen the ocean before, and it went on, until it faded into the sky. I’d never felt sand between my toes or the white frothy tips of an ocean’s wave. Being here, finally, was surreal.

  And all I could think about was where Malibu Barbie would live.

  After grabbing a quick lunch, we ended up stopping at an older, retro-style motel along the Pacific Coast Highway, creatively named the Malibu Motel. Unloading our bags and the massive number of weapons didn’t take that long. The inside of the motel kind of reminded me of the one Seth and I had stayed at before, except we weren’t in the honeymoon suite this time.

  Based on what Hercules had discovered with Apollo, we figured we’d find Poseidon’s offspring somewhere in Malibu, but the place wasn’t particularly small and there were people, lots of . . . really attractive and thin people.

  We hit the area of Paradise Cove in the afternoon, and while I was thrilled to get sand between my toes, I wished I’d had some shorts to pack. Sweat was already accumulating in places sweat should never gather, but the sun felt good on my skin. It seemed like it had been way too long since I’d actually felt warm.

  Plus, I felt like an ogre around these people. A big, hairy ogre.

  The first day searching was a fail on many levels. We didn’t find who we were looking for. We nearly lost Hercules to a group of bikini-clad girls multiple times, and we had to drive further out from the coast to find a store that sold shorts my thighs would actually fit in.

  Sigh.

  And then the shorts were a mistake. Seth said I looked hot, and later, in our bed that creaked, he showed me how hot he thought I looked in those shorts, but while I was out on the beach, my legs were so white they were blinding.

  Dusk was quickly giving way to night when we stopped to grab dinner at The Beach Café. Seated inside at a large table, I couldn’t help but wonder if any of the patrons, the very mortal patrons, noticed anything off about our group. Besides the fact that our group had an extraordinary amount of attractive people—not like that was anything rare in L.A., but did they feel anything strange?

  Could they sense at all that demigods, the children of demigods, and the Apollyon surrounded them? Like a weird vibe in the air or just that sensation you sometimes get that warns you something isn’t right?

  I knew I never felt anything when I was a normal mortal. I’d believed that Erin was totally who and what she said she was. I had no idea she was a mortal creature known as a furie.

  Other than the waitress openly gawking at the guys, she didn’t seem to realize that she was surrounded by mythical creatures as she took our drink order.

  I went with a Coke. Most went with water . . . until it came to Herc’s order. He eyed the menu. “I’ll take a gin and tonic.”

  The pretty waitress, who I’d already assumed was in the L.A. area to be an actress, because I assumed everyone there was there to act or model, blushed. “Can I see an I.D.?”

  My eyes widened. I.D.? Hell. There was no—

  “Honey, you already saw my I.D.,” Herc said as he glanced up. His gaze caught and held the waitress’s. Tiny hairs rose on my arm as a push rolled across the table, a flicker of recognizable power. “You know I am of age.”

  The waitress blinked slowly and then said, “How about an appetizer?”

  Holy wow.

  I’d never get used to seeing a compulsion used, and even though it was over something so minor, I didn’t like it. “You shouldn’t do that.”

  Herc looked at me like he couldn’t even fathom why I suggested that. “I want a drink, so I’m getting a drink.”

  “But you don’t need a drink,” I reasoned, curling my fingers along the edges of the laminated menu. “Compulsions shouldn’t be used for something so . . . so trivial.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  I glanced around the table. Alex looked seconds from face-planting the menu. Aiden was staring at Herc with a mixture of morbid fascination and distaste. Solos was actually checking out an older blonde woman who looked like she belonged on Housewives of Whatever. Luke shared Alex’s expression, and Seth, who was beside me, looked like he wanted to punch the demigod, but that was no different from the moment they crossed paths. Deacon was the only one who actually watched Herc with favorable interest.

  “It’s not right,” I explained. Slowly. “You’re messing with her head. That is wrong.”

  He shrugged. “She’s just a mortal.”

  “Just a mortal,” I repeated dumbly.

  Seth draped his arm along the back of my chair. “Don’t waste your time, Josie.”

  “Nothing with me is a waste of time,” Herc stated, and I joined Alex, wanting to face-plant the table.

  “Anyway,” Aiden cut in smoothly. “Today was a bust,” he said, keeping his voice low. “While it may not seem like we’re in a time crunch here, the longer all of us are in one location, the more likely we’re going to run into problems.”

  “Not just with the Titans,” Solos agreed, still focused on the older blonde woman. “But we’ll have daimon problems before we know it.”

  “I’m not worried,” Herc replied.

  Seth smoothed his hand along
my back as the waitress returned with our drinks and we placed our orders. Aiden got a burger without buns, and I felt like that was a crime against nature.

  “Worried or not, we need you to find the demigod, not the girl in the skimpiest bikini,” Alex pointed out as soon as the waitress disappeared. “Even though you do seem to have an impressive talent for that.”

  So true.

  Herc smiled proudly. “You all need to have faith.”

  “I have faith,” Deacon commented. “All the faith.”

  “I like you,” Herc stated, and Luke inhaled through his nose as he widened his eyes. “Why? Because you recognize how awesome I am.”

  “Fuck me,” Seth muttered under his breath, and then louder, “Can you just not talk? At least until the food gets here?”

  Herc frowned as confusion flickered across his face. “Why would I not talk?”

  “Okay.” I smiled brightly and continued before Herc could. “So the plan for tomorrow is to keep looking here, in the same area?”

  Aiden nodded. “Malibu is only about nineteen miles. He has to be around here somewhere.”

  I thought about walking nineteen miles and almost wished Herc was talking about himself. The conversation shifted, though, to what it was like in Tartarus for Alex and Aiden, and we lingered well after the food arrived and was consumed. All of us listened to them, even Herc, and I wondered if it was possible to get a tour of Tartarus without being, well, you know, dead. I’d kind of like to see the ball of fire that turned into a dragon that Alex described.

  The vibe was good as we headed back to the Motel. Herc was chill, which helped everyone in terms of patience and happiness, but as we neared the Motel a strange feeling hit me as I stared out the window, focused on the dark waters of the ocean.

  The roof of my mouth dried. Tiny balls of dread formed in my stomach. A great sense of foreboding washed over me, so strong and insistent that I tensed in my seat. I glanced at Seth. He was focused on the road. Herc and Solos were quiet in the backseat.

  My temples pounded as I faced forward in the seat. Nothing was going on, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the peacefulness felt by everyone wasn’t going to last.

  The dry spell when it came to nightmares ended that night.

  I’d had another one.

  The same as before. The unfamiliar Titan was there, this time in the car Seth had been driving. He’d appeared in the backseat and this time he told me something that chilled me to the very core, three words that followed me as I showered and got ready for the day.

  Dig a grave.

  That’s what the unknown Titan had whispered in my nightmare. Dig a grave.

  Needless to say, that sort of freaked me out.

  We hit up Paradise Cove again; this time Aiden, Deacon, Luke, and Solos stayed back, which left the rest of us to start the needle in the haystack search. I wasn’t so confident that we’d find him as we drove along Cliffside Drive.

  Hercules was confident, though. “He’s here. I can sense him.”

  “Is it like a disturbance in the force?” Seth quipped, glancing into the rearview mirror.

  I grinned. Star Wars reference for the win.

  “Actually, yes.” Hercules nodded seriously.

  Seth looked like he was going to gouge his own eyeballs out.

  “He’s here. I can feel him.” Herc shifted in the seat. “You need to pull over. Now.”

  “Give me a second.” Finding a place wasn’t easy. It took several minutes, and Seth ended up parking near some overlook. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  Seth opened his door, and I hopped out, stretching as I walked over. “Whoa. The view . . .”

  “It’s amazing.” Alex joined me. Near an edge of a bluff stood an overlook obviously created for the view.

  And it was stunning. A breeze washed over my already-warm skin as I stared down at the sand and ocean. The area was rough. Waves high. Black spots in the water, appearing and disappearing every few moments, turned out to be surfers.

  Wait a second . . .

  Seth walked up behind me and pulled the back of my shirt down. “Your gun was showing.”

  “Oh. Awkward.” I turned to Herc. “You sense Poseidon’s son here?”

  The demigod nodded. “Yes. He’s definitely out here.”

  “Here” was Point Dume, a small community on a bluff, overlooking a strip of sand and the rocky ocean below. A place popular with surfers, by the looks of it.

  “Do you think his son is a . . . surfer?” I asked, staring back out over the cliff. A shadowy blob rose up, coasting a wave. “I mean, he is the son of Poseidon, so that would . . .”

  “. . . be really cliché,” Alex suggested. “But would make sense. I mean, his abilities are locked up, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have some sort of affinity for water. Did you have anything that, looking back, reminded you of Apollo?”

  Not that I knew of, but knowing my luck, people probably thought I was creepy or something.

  I started to respond, but Herc was walking off. Alex sighed as she caught up to him. Seth waited for me, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses he’d taken from Aiden. I was grateful I’d picked up a pair during my depressing shopping excursion last night.

  We quickly encountered an obstacle—a large metal gate that blocked the paths leading down to the beach.

  “Looks like the beach is private,” I noted, briefly turning into Captain Obvious.

  Seth stepped around and placed his hand near the lock on the gate. The surge of power was faint, but a second later, the gate unlocked. He gave it a little push and it swung open.

  Where Seth’s hand had been, the metal was melted.

  “Well,” I said. “That solves that.”

  I followed behind them, unable to shake the feeling that we were trespassing. I didn’t vocalize that sensation, because it was such a mortal thing to feel. I mean, what would anyone do if they caught us? Try to arrest us?

  Oh no.

  Heart skipping a beat, I thought about the fact there was a Glock shoved into the back of my not very attractive, size-too-small shorts.

  “I can practically smell the money,” Alex commented as we started down one of the steep dirt trails that led to the beach. “You think the guy we’re looking for lives in one of those houses?” There were massive houses all along the bluff. The kind of homes that could fit an entire football team in them. Mansions of all shapes. I bet there were celebrities who lived here.

  Oh my God, what if Poseidon’s son was a celebrity?

  Hercules moved swiftly down the trail, and I was surprised I didn’t tumble down the path, knocking everyone out of the way like a sling-shot Angry Bird.

  The moment we hit the beach, Hercules hung a right. Up ahead there was a cluster of guys standing among surfboards that were stuck upright in the sand. Some were wearing board shorts. Others had wetsuits half-on, pulled up to their lean waists.

  Alex’s steps slowed even though Hercules was stalking past them. “I have a feeling we’re not welcome here.”

  “Understatement of the century,” I murmured as one of the taller guys broke free from the group. His damp blond hair curled across his sun-kissed forehead.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching Alex first. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

  Alex looked at him and laughed—laughed and kept walking. The surfer dude didn’t think that was funny. He grabbed her arm, and that was all it took.

  She spun on him, capturing his arm. Yanking him forward, she used his body weight against him. Thrown off-balance, he stumbled, and Alex dipped under his arm, twisting it back behind him. “Didn’t your mama teach you not to grab girls?”

  “What the—?”

  “Wrong answer.” Alex twisted his arm and flipped him. The guy hit the sand on his back, his expression absolutely dumbfounded. “I’d stay down if I were you.”

  Shouts rose from the group of surfers. They started toward us, their bare feet kicking up sand.