Constantine came forward, and Rafael met him head-on, bludgeon raised. Wood cracked against wood in a series of rapid strikes that drove Constantine back two steps.
Caesar dove at Rafael's exposed back.
I was already moving. I swung my bludgeon in a wide arc and connected with Caesar's wing. Feathers exploded, and the bird shrieked, tumbling sideways in the air.
The chain between Caesar and Constantine jerked Constantine's ankle, and he stumbled mid-swing.
Rafael's bludgeon cracked across Constantine's jaw.
Blood sprayed. Constantine reeled backward, his hand coming up to his split lip.
That pleasant mask never slipped.
"Clever." Constantine wiped the blood from his lip and examined it. "Tell me, Lorenzo, does Rafael know what you are? Really know?"
I didn't answer. Rafael and I circled right, keeping distance.
"About the cage?" Constantine's tone stayed pleasant. Conversational. "About watching your mother split open on the floor of that favela shack? Did you tell him you don't remember? Oh, but you do, don't you? You remember everything."
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
"Shut up," Rafael said.
"You couldn't save her." That smile widened. "Couldn't save yourself. In fact, you were completely useless until Dionysus found you, weren't you? Completely feral. You've never been human. The best you could ever hope for was to become a decent weapon."
Caesar dove. I swung and missed. The bird's talons raked across my shoulder, tearing the wound deeper. Blood ran hot down my arm.
Constantine pressed forward. "And you, Rafael. So desperate to believe your suffering meant something. That God had a plan. Thatyour mother's cancer and Gabriel's drowning were part of some divine design."
Rafael blocked Constantine's strike, but the force drove him back a step.
"It's easier, isn't it?" Constantine circled left, and Caesar adjusted his position overhead. "Easier to believe pain has a purpose than to accept that bad things happen to good people for absolutely no reason at all. Easier to be a good dog who sits and stays and kills on command."
"I'm not—" Rafael started.
"You are." Constantine's bludgeon came down hard. Rafael barely got his own up in time. Wood cracked. "You spent your entire life begging for meaning. For someone to tell you what to do. Azevedo. The Church. Even Lorenzo, in his way. You've never made a single choice that wasn't someone else's command dressed up as faith."
Rafael's face went white.
Constantine turned his attention back to me. "Did they make your mother scream? I imagine they did. All that suffering over fifteen hundred reais. About what, three hundred American dollars?" He tilted his head. "Your entire childhood destroyed over the cost of a nice dinner."
My vision tunneled. Red crept in at the edges.
"There it is." His expression brightened. "That rage. That beautiful animal rage. You want to kill me so badly you can taste it. But you won't. You know why?"
Caesar dove at Rafael's blind side. Rafael swung and his bludgeon clipped Caesar's left wing. The bird shrieked and pulled up awkwardly, favoring the injured wing.
"Because you're a weapon," Constantine continued. "And weapons don't get to choose their targets."
"You're wrong." The words came out of me rough and raw.
"Am I?" Constantine lunged forward, bludgeon aimed at my ribs. I blocked, but the impact drove me back into Rafael. We stumbled, the chain tangling.
Caesar dove again, this time at me. I ducked, and the bird's talons grazed my already torn shoulder. Fresh blood ran hot down my arm.
"We can't outlast them," Rafael gasped. His ribs were clearly hurting him.
Constantine circled us, that pleasant smile never faltering. Caesar wheeled overhead, preparing for another dive.
