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“He had to come, didn’t he?” Tycho said. “Either that or be hunted as a deserter. Do you think they all came?”
I stuck my head in the huddle. “What are you guys talking about? Who is he?”
They shushed me.
TheSebastian Barba walked onto the platform and faced me. I swallowed through a suddenly parched, aching throat.
“Son of Adonis,” I whispered.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Nitsa said, eyes glazing over as fast as mine. “How could anyone who looks like him not be?”
Long, flaxen hair swept down his back, constrained with a single band. The sun drenched his gypsum skin as though he denied her touch for years, and now she would bronze every inch of him with abandon. He rolled his neck—flexing wide, muscled shoulders—and I watched his bottom-heavy lips pucker as he blew out a bored breath.
Yes, he was bored. It was obvious in the dull sheen in his azure eyes and the displeasure wrinkling his broad, Roman nose. A short time ago, I would’ve said he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, but Alexander put paid to that. Even so, the two would break the judges’ minds deciding if they were entered in the same beauty contest.
“He’s even more rare than a child of Adonis,” Theron said. “He’s a son of Hades.”
“Okay?” I drew out. “Cool?”
“That’s all you have to say?” Tycho goggled at me. “When he says they’re rare, he’s not kidding. There’re only like five in all of Olympia, and they don’t live in Trono. This is the first I’ve ever seen one in person.”
“Very cool?”
“It is,” Nitsa said. “Hades is generous with his children by far. Every one of his children throughout Olympian history has been granted powers that could topple kings. Like Midas with the gold touch. And Phedora who could douse her enemies with a deadly venom just by brushing their skin.”
“I heard he’s more powerful than both of them,” Tycho added. “My father said he can summon an army of the dead.”
Theron put in, “My mother said he can travel in and out of hades itself. That’s how he evades the spies the council sends after him.”
“Imagine,” Nitsa breathed. “There are treasures and horrors in the depths of hades that only he can get to. No wonder they keep sending spies to watch him.”
“I am Sebastian Barba.” The three of them snapped their mouths shut so fast there was an audible sound. He had their full attention. “Son of Hades.”
They leaned in, hanging off their seats, and damned if I wasn’t too. I couldn’t help it. They got me curious.
“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it right.” Sebastian snapped his fingers. “Jason, Dimitri, Castor. Up here.”
“What?”
“What’s going on?”
“What’s he doing?” I asked.
“What’s the meaning of this?” the commander echoed. “You— Return to your seats! I did not summon you.”
The guys climbed the steps, blatantly ignoring Vasili’s bellowing.
I leaned back in my seat as the four of them lined up. I think everyone did. Something about their presence... overwhelmed.
“This is Jason.” Sebastian gestured to the guy at the end. A tall, muscly, buff guy who looked like he stepped out of a swimsuit magazine and found clothes—to everyone’s disappointment. He was more than hot with his wicked grin andmischief dancing in his green eyes. Hot guys had posters of him in their rooms, wishing to be him one day.
“Dimitri.” Shorter, bespectacled, and looking even more bored than Sebastian, there was something about Dimitri that made you want to draw close, closer, and too close. And it wasn’t many beads, metal links, and skulls woven through his dreadlocks or that he was as lickable as his friends.
No, it had to be the uncommonly light gray eyes sweeping over the stadium and hushing as he went. Dimitri saw right through us.
“Castor.”
Castor was Asian? Was that correct to say since, technically, no one here was from Asia, Africa, Europe, or the rest? They were all from Olympia. I’d have to learn more to be sure, but what I was sure of was that Castor had skin like the light of the harvest moon and hair darker than midnight.
