98

98

Prisoner

Zeles waves a hand, indicating I should go through a door into what is clearly the Olympian version of a jail cell.

God jail.

It says a lot about my mental state that I am now fighting back a case of the giggles and tears at the same time.

“In here, please,” he says.

No shoving. No anger or suspicion. Even a please.

The Daemones said they weren’t going to hurt me, just keep me locked up until the next challenge. Even so, I’ve clocked the details of how we got here, the ways in and out of the building that I could see, the rooms leading here, and now this space.

Because you did such a bang-up job learning escape techniques last time, sarcastic me drawls in my head.

“Huh,” I say deliberately as I step inside. “It turns out prisons in Olympus are pretty much the same as the ones in the Overworld.”

Zeles frowns. “Really?”

“No.” I roll my eyes. “Not really.”

This prison is, of all things, pristinely clean and fancy with white marbled walls. Well-lit. A desk, a computer, and a bed with a fluffy pillow are included, along with a private bathroom inside opaque glass walls. The outer walls of the cell are clear glass instead of bars. More glass walls to deal with. At least these are bug free and with holes across the top so I can breathe. Thoughtful of them.

“You’re taking this well,” a Daemon I heard Zeles refer to as Nike says from behind us.

“This is the most protected I’ve been since I was three years old.” I manage to smile up at Zeles.

This might be the safest place for me if Athena is out for my blood. And I could really use the space away from Hades.

Zeles doesn’t so much as crack a crease around his eyes or lips.

Granted, our last interaction had a lot to do with me demanding Hades’ release. Probably from this place. Given the trouble I’ve caused, I’d lay money that I’m not the Daemon’s favorite champion.

Despite the luxuries, this is still a prison. It’s still four walls with no contact with the outside world beyond a few scattered visitors, no way out, and a guard.

I step inside, and then Zeles turns the lock and leaves.

Nike sets herself up by the door that leads to the halls and freedom beyond and pulls out a cell phone and earbuds, proceeding to ignore me entirely as she watches something that makes her snicker every few minutes.

It looks like I will get no privacy. No way am I letting them see me fall apart.

I’m holding myself together with sheer will, emotional duct tape, and twenty years of learning how to not show my true feelings to others if I don’t want to. Who knew that the harsh reality of my life would come in this handy someday?

Even so, I’m starting to shake.

Just a little.

Giving the shaking a disguise and an outlet, I wander my cell, checking out the entire thing. I give the bed a good bounce. Turns out it’s a nice, thick mattress, and the sheets are some fancy cotton with a high thread count—a league better than the thin, scratchy shit in mortal cells. The toilet paper in the bathroom is also the good stuff. No one-ply tissue paper bullshit for the gods’ asses, even ones in jail.

“Can I—”

Nike jerks her phone down, gaze on me hard and suspicious.

Right. Okay. She is not as relaxed around me as she looked. Yet.

I hold up both hands. “Can I get a change of clothes?” I wave at my bug-gut-and-blood-splattered clothing.

Annoyance crosses her features, but she goes to the door and asks someone outside named Craton. Ten minutes later, I’m brought a white jumpsuit.

“At least it’s not orange,” I tell Nike. “Makes me look jaundiced.”

She frowns.

Daemones. So serious.

With a shrug, I head into the shower.

The only place I can be alone in here. I turn on the water, strip, and step under the spray, then immediately wrap my arms around my middle, crumbling over them as I try to contain my heartbreak.

I don’t know how long I stay in there like that, letting the water both hide the sounds that escape every so often and wash away the evidence.

“That’s enough!” Nike’s voice is muffled by the walls but still distinct.

Damn.

It takes three tries to answer her in a normal-sounding voice. “Bug guts are sticky. I’ll be out in a bit.”

No answer, which I take as agreement.

Even so, I force myself to stop wallowing and actually wash myself off. The toiletries provided are basic but get the job done, and minutes later, I’m back out in my cell, wet hair slicked back and remarkably comfy in the jumpsuit, which is fashioned from some soft, stretchy material.

I’m holding it all in again. So tightly I feel like an overblown balloon. If I so much as brush against the carpeting wrong, I’ll pop.

Meanwhile, it’s still daylight. Probably time for lunch. I can’t lie down and go to sleep and hide myself in the dark.

So now what?

I go to the computer. Thieves of the Order don’t have email or any kind of online presence. We’re digital ghosts on purpose. So there’s nothing to check. Instead, I open up a browser.

And the first thing I see is a giant headline that reads, Two More Dead as Crucible Nears the End.

Meike and Dex’s deaths immediately replay in my head in detail so distinct I hear Dex’s grunt all over again, see the life leave his body. I click away from that fast but not fast enough, thanks to the renewed shaking of my hands. I close my eyes and try not to see the image on the backs of my lids.

“Are you going to be ill?” Nike asks with an indifference that would do prison guards around the world proud. She clearly doesn’t want to deal with the mess.

“No.”

I force my eyes open to stare at the screen, which is now showing the home page of a streaming service—the first thing I saw that seemed neutral to click on. Except the movie they are featuring at the top, the preview already running, is some bloody action film involving murders and purges.

“Nope,” I mutter, then scroll and click the first thing that looks not that.

K-drama. A romantic comedy.

Right. Better.

The sound will be a shield of sorts. The computer, too. I can stare at it like I’m watching to pass the time, and she’ll pay no attention to me. Maybe it will even distract me. Although I don’t think so.

I’m staring down several days to sit in here and think of nothing but…

I shove his name out of my head before I can think it. I don’t want to think about him.

So think about something else.

Like surviving the final Labor and getting the fuck away from this place. Never seeing him again.

Or maybe I can run now. Skip that last challenge. I can’t win anyway…

I have five pearls left. How long can I keep away from the gods with those?