AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Before I have to focus too hard on stuffing down a chortle, Erin is the unlikely rescue officer of the moment. “Actually, I think Mr. Prieto has recently become engaged toKellValari.”
“Oh?”
The woman’s startlement is apparent, but the blazes in Arden’s eyes are more than enough to send his irked message at Erin.
“Well, no matter what, it seems congratulations are in order, Mr. Prieto.”
McCarthy again, saving the gloss of the conversation with her bright tone. It doesn’t deter Arden from his incendiary stare at Erin, despite the refinement beneath his reply to Alameda’s president.
“Thank you very much. But the news is still quite private. Can I ask howyoulearned it, Professor Levin?”
Erin wiggles her lips. Jogs her brows. “You’re not the only one with lofty connections in the city, Mr. Prieto.”
The next pause is worthy of every precommercial moment in the history ofHathaway Harbor. I just wish it gave me as much delight as the stuff dancing across McCarthy’s face—or even, weirdly, on Erin’s.
Or maybe…not so weirdly.
Before I can dismiss my instincts about that, I shuffle forward. “Sorry to bust in before the champagne is popped, but can I have a moment alone with Professor Levin?”
I’m ready with an assuring nod for the stabbing glances from Jesse and Arden. They’ll get all the cake once I’ve figured out this whole recipe—which I’m hoping will lead to anythingbutcake.
At least not the one that’s been baked around a knife.
The pointy bastard that I just found in Gio’s screenplay.
As soon as the others leave the glass-enclosed area, I shut the heavy door all the way. As soon as the panel gives a definedsnick, I snap back toward the cunning creature that has no way out except through me.
Not that she’s getting that leave anytime soon.
Not that she looks like she wants it.
The bold shrew is so ready for this showdown, I’m even exposed to a few glances at her true form as she takes position on the other side of the study table. The eye color that shifts, turning bright and intense. The mouth that gives up its cultured smile in place of a calculated sneer. Most prominently, the birdlike abrasion that enters her voice.
“What are you doing here, demigod?”
“I work here,” I bite back. “That’s still questionable where you’re concerned,Professor. So what areyoudoing here?”
She cocks her head, again too avian-zombie-creepy for my comfort. “I follow my queen’s commands. They haven’t changed. To keep you and yours out of the sacred halls of Olympus. You will never have access to its refuge or resources. They’re not yours to claim!”
“Not what I’m after,” I snarl. “And you know that, damn it. What I do want, and what you will give me, is an explanation about what I just read in here.”
It’s dauntingly satisfying to watch the harpy’s gaze drop, following the jab of my finger against the final page of Gio’s old script. Thankfully, Hera hasn’t kept her that far in the dark. I observe that already, as the tension cranks tighter across her bony features. She absolutely knows what’s in it. Probably every word, and probably better than I.
So she knows it’s the plot for a movie that, over forty years ago, was unproducible and unbelievable schmaltz—but detailed absolutely everything that’s happened across every supernatural landscape during this last week. That’s likely because it’s from the viewpoint of a beloved Olympian goddess with generosity in her heart and magic at her fingertips, who’s pushed to the background as her king and queen vie for control of a shriveling, forgotten kingdom. It’s the story of how that goddess takes definitive action about it… Decisions that will forever change every known realm.
Including the destruction of the humans’ world.
Gio has spoken to me, all right. Really loud and really clear.
“Talk to me, Megaera,” I order with a gut-deep growl. “Talk to menow.No detail deleted. When is Hecate officially declaring war on Olympus?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KARA
“Your dude’s pantry is worse than Mom’s.”
I turn toward my brother, who’s already embraced my offer of making himself completely at home. Maximus’s apartment cupboards aren’t proving to be J’s happy snack source, but I’m smitten about the rest of his commentary.
