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“Hurry,” I say, low and urgent.
Persephone nods and picks up the pace. Her eyes are glued on the darkness below, gauging the distance.
“Just get to the tree,” I hiss. “Quickly, lass.”
It’s only a few hundred feet but it feels interminable. Persephone clings to the house and stares at the tree like it’s her only lifeline.
Below, the smoke rises in the air. I can actually feel the air growing hotter but now is not the time to say anything. My brain is trying to think through all the possibilities of where we should go once we make it to the ground. Persephone gets to the end of the ledge and tries to turn. She gives me a heart attack when she stumbles and throws her arms out, trying to balance herself.
I reach out and grab her, keeping her from tumbling off the roof.
Her relieved glance is all the thanks I need. She takes another two steps and then jumps to the tree.
Then all hell breaks loose. Behind me, I hear a distinct shout. I brace as a shot whooshes past my ear.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
Another shot is fired, this one sinking into the house very close to my head.
Time slows. I have to make a decision. Jump or maybe get shot.
I know which one has better odds.
I drag in a huge breath and launch myself off the roof, covering my head. I hear two more gunshots before I hit the ground hard, landing on my right leg. The ground beneath me is soft grass but I still land awkwardly, the breath knocked out of my lungs in a sharp jolt.
I see Persephone climbing down the tree trunk and I start to rise. Pain shoots through my right leg but I ignore it as best as I can.
I jog the couple of steps to where Persephone stands, breathing hard. I grab her hand and turn toward the back of the lot, where I know there is another fence.
And then I begin to run.
Chapter17
Hades
We slip away into the sultry Spanish night, our cheeks red with exertion, our panicked pulses racing as we head down Valencia’s winding, hilly streets. I clench Persephone's hand in my fist as I hurry her along, trying to glance in the windows of shops to check if we are being followed. She keeps casting fervent glances over her shoulder as we come down onto the broad sweep of highway that stretches along the beach from one end of the city to the other.
“Raise yer hand,” I say, nudging her. “Hail one of these taxis.”
She pins me with a desperate look and pulls free from my touch. She flags down a cab, leaning down to talk to the first driver that stops for us.
I pull her back. “No. Never go with the first one when ye are on the run.” I make a puzzled face and wave the taxi on. Once the car pulls off with a screech of tires, I urge her to raise her hand again.
“I really never wanted to know how to evade people like this.” She flags another car down, a haunted look crossing her fatigued expression.
“And yet, I’m going to do my best to save yer fucking life,” I say, eyeing her with a sick sense of mirth.
She presses her fingers against the bridge of her nose for a moment, highlighting the dark shadows beneath her eyes.
She doesn’t say it aloud, but I have the distinct impression that she blames me for being dragged out of not only her bed tonight but of her entire life, generally. Which isn’t completely fair, but there is no time to debate who did what to whom, not just now.
We take a taxi in the wrong direction for about ten miles. I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Eros.
Villa was attacked. Made it out okay. Going underground. Wait for word from me.
I leave the SIM card in the phone and wedge the whole thing behind the gray plush of the seat. For anybody really searching for us, the phone will be a red herring, driving all over the city in circles.
It’s probably not much of a distraction but I had to get rid of the phone anyway. Better do something with it that someone may take the time to chase down rather than just throwing the phone out.
