Page 23 of Taming Winter

The light dimmed, and Apollo and five other figures consumed the stairwell. Giggles filled the air, broken by the deep monotone of Apollo's voice. Laying the chain over my shoulder so it didn’t touch my skin, I waited until they took their first steps on the stairwell to launch into action.

I stepped into the stairwell and shot out a spray of ice with a wave of my palm. Frozen spears plunged into the entire entourage, and the space filled with agonized gasps and falling bodies. A blonde woman crumpled and fell forward down the stairwell, ice and blood smearing over the velvet steps with her descent. The mass of death provided me a few precious moments amidst the distraction to snap the chain from my shoulder. I danced out of the way of falling bodies, then pranced up the steps and hurled my chain-wrapped fist into Apollo's temple.

The god stumbled and hit the wall with a sickening groan. The familiar, terrifying scent of charred flesh filled the stairwell, sending every nerve in my body on edge. Golden blood dripped from the hole in his stomach from my ice and the burned injury to his temple, gilding the floor. "I will destroy you—” he snarled. I hit him again. Allowing the god to use his powers would mean my end.

He crumpled to the floor, body shuddering from the impact. His injuries started to stitch together, but I wouldn't give him time for that. I kicked him in the side so he fell over, then wrapped his wrists with the chain as fast as my hands would move. The smell of burning flesh, where his skin bubbled and burst from the contact, consumed my senses. His golden-hued form dimmed, and a soft, ever-dimming groan left his lips when I unhooked the lock from my belt and clicked it into place around his wrists.

The stairwell filled with the ragged, desperate gasps of the dying. The women's bodies shuddered and jerked against their mortal wounds. There was no curing what ailed them now. A pang of guilt deep in my gut bubbled forth for causing their demise, but it had to be done. Witnesses could endanger Hades, and that was unacceptable. However, I could at least end their suffering. I pulled Apollo up by the cuffs before turning my attention to the blood-soaked bodies at my feet.

Something clicked in my mind. An inconsistency, like a puzzle piece placed in the wrong position, throwing off the entire image. I was missing a woman. Five women left the viewing box, but I was certain there had been six with Apollo. Though I remained expressionless, my mind twisted into knots. I spread frost through the minds of the people around me, including Apollo, though it wouldn't kill him, while retracing my steps in my mind.

The soft click of a heel was the only warning I had before the lancing burn of acid blossomed through my neck. My hand went to my throat and tugged out a syringe, the plunger tapped. I stumbled, my fuzzy vision going to the woman standing behind me. Her hair was as black as night, her eyes a shocking green that reminded me of Hades.

"You have no idea what you've done," I sputtered. The world spun. My skin burned in a way it hadn't since my death, and I felt like I was going to throw up. What the fuck had she injected me with? I lifted the needle to my nose, but I couldn't smell anything in my haze.

"Apollo promised to save my sister. I will not let you kill him," she responded, her tone cold.

A ragged cough tore from my lungs, resulting in a splatter of blood that sprayed her in a fine mist. I collapsed to my knee. I had become too soft. Never would I have made such a fundamental error. It was a loose end that had put me and Hades in danger. I would suffer for it, certainly. "Thousands are going to die now," I managed.

She shrugged. "That's not my problem."

The world went black.

CHAPTER 22

HADES

An inferno of rage boiled through my flesh. Apollo's perfect, mournful face filled the television screen as he discussed the hundreds that had died in the past day because of Underworld’s Delirium. The blight I supposedly caused.

I threw the remote at the screen. It buried into the surface and stuck out like a knife's hilt. The screen flickered shades of green and red, then sputtered and went black. I was a fucking fool. Thane had drawn me in with that silver tongue, as though he actually cared for me. No, he had taken the first chance he had to run. He was likely nearby, feeding off my energy to avoid turning to dust, but he had left my side. I had known better, but that toxic sliver of hope had made me act against my own best interests. It would never happen again.

My eyes stung with tears that I refused to let fall. Betrayal was nothing new, and I would get through it the same way I always had. I choked back a sob and instead focused my attention on my trembling fists. Flames licked across my skin in a purple inferno that threatened death and salvation.

The first time I had lit myself on fire, I had screamed and crumpled in horror. It had taken several minutes for me to realize there was no pain. I was fireproof, unlike my siblings. Fire had taken a liking to me in the same way the wraiths loyally followed me. I found comfort in its warmth now, and the protection it afforded me. No one could touch me without being burned themselves. Somehow, it didn't matter though. They hurt me regardless.

In a few days, I would hunt Thane down like the dog he was and bury him so deep in the pits of Tartarus he would never see the sun again. The thought was soothing, but I couldn't bear to carry out such plans when I was like this. No, I needed to bathe in this pain for a while—let it seep into my very bones so that I never did something this foolish again.

The purple glow from my bedroom windows dimmed as the day turned into dusk. I couldn't find the will to move from my seat at my tea table. Part of me hoped my flames would fuse me to the seat, leaving me to be an undead and unfeeling relic. It would be fitting for the land of the dead. But even that comfort wouldn't be afforded me, as a shadow cast across the window and my room filled with the soft ruffle of feathers.

Hermes appeared in the room in a flurry of cream-colored feathers and shimmering fabric. My eyes followed one downy feather that trickled to the floor, then dragged my gaze to his. His face was plastered with his typical screen-worthy smile, but I saw the soft bags under his eyes, covered with makeup but still visible. I scowled at him.

"Oh darling, you look horrible," he boomed.

My lip curled. "I could say the same about you. Is my brother working you into the ground?"

Though stride faltered, he shrugged off my comment and swept into the seat across from me. "Don't tease me, darling. You're going to like why I'm here."

His manicured hand tucked into the liner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope that he then passed to me. Inside was a single photograph of a street bird’s-eye view. Cameras were illegal amongst the general populace of Olympiara, so either Hermes had spies, or a human had kept one hidden away from the marshals. Within the faded colors… my lips parted before I remembered myself and snapped them shut.

"What is this, Hermes?"

Despite the photo's grain, the form being dragged through the street was unmistakably Thane. His body was held up by two guards flanked by Apollo and a black-haired woman.

"There was an attempt on Apollo's life, according to my little birds. We believe they captured the man during the attempt. I recognized him to be your pet, of course." Hermes tucked the photo into its envelope and returned it to his hidden pocket.

My heart dropped into my stomach. Thane didn’t betray me. The thought clanged within my mind until it finally digested. He hadn’t tricked me. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I had to internally berate myself to stop them from surfacing in front of Hermes. I could only imagine how he would use my tears to his advantage. We may have been civil, but he was not a true friend.

He didn't betray me. That truth settled in my stomach and soured with the reality of what it meant. He was captured. It had been days since he was due to arrive in Zone 3, and that meant days of unimaginable torture from the immortal of disease. Not to mention the wear on his soul being so far from me. He wouldn't have long before he turned to dust and left this world entirely.