We fell into rhythm back to back, moving as one unit. When he went high, I went low. When I pivoted left, he mirrored right.
An operative came at us, sword raised. I ducked under his swing and hamstrung him. Rafael's rifle butt crushed his windpipe.
Two more rushed us from opposite sides. I took mine through the kidney. Rafael caught his in a burst of gunfire, stitching a line from groin to throat.
"They're too coordinated," Rafael said between shots. "They must be working together.”
That wasn't right. Those organizations had been at war for centuries. They didn't work together. They didn’t even cooperate if they didn’t have to.
A Cerberus operative threw a flashbang. The world went white, and my ears rang. I stumbled, blind and deaf, blade up defensively.
Rafael's hand caught my elbow and steadied me, guiding me back while my vision cleared. Two bodies lay at his feet, dropped while protecting my blind side.
"If they’re working together, then they’re both answering to one commander," I said.
Rafael's face went pale. "That's impossible."
"You see what I'm seeing."
Across the warehouse, Jasper's katana carved through another operative. Diego's shotgun boomed. A cluster of enforcers dove for cover, but one wasn't fast enough. The blast caught him in the side, spinning him before he hit the ground.
We were holding. Barely. Bodies littered the concrete, and blood made the floor slick, but we were holding.
An operative came at me, and I drove my blade through his throat, but my mind was somewhere else. Running through the pattern of attacks. Rome. Rio. Now here. Every time we'd escaped, it was because one side interfered with the other. Every close call that went our way happened because the two organizations got in each other's way.
What if that wasn't luck?
What if someone wanted us to keep running?
Then a single word cut through the chaos. "Enough."
Everyone froze.
A figure stepped through the carnage in an immaculate navy suit. I frowned when I recognized Judge Minos. What the hell was he doing here?
"Prince Constantine." Rafael's rifle came up, finger on the trigger. His hands shook.
My head snapped toward Rafael. "What did you call him?"
"His name is Prince and Grand Master Baron Constantine III,” Rafael said. “He runs the Order of the Knights of Malta, the Order of Saint Michael, and the Sacra Custodia.”
“But…” I shook my head. “He’s Judge Minos. One of the three Judges of the Pantheon.”
We both turned to look at each other as the realization slowly sank in.
Constantine. Minos. They were the same fucking person.
The coordinated attack made sense now. The convenient escapes. The way both organizations always seemed one step behind but never quite caught us. He'd commanded both sides. We'd never had a chance.
Constantine smiled like a teacher watching students finally grasp a difficult concept. "There it is. I do enjoy watching understanding dawn. The Church and the Pantheon aren't separate powers. They're Zeus's right hand and left. I simply serve as his voice in both."
My stomach turned over. Every move we'd made, he'd allowed. Every victory had been him loosening the leash just enough to let us think we had a chance.
"Suka," Jasper spat. "You're working for Zeus."
"Ah. Hephaestus." Constantine beamed. "Eight years, Zeus has been patient. And here you are. Worth the wait, I think."
Constantine lunged forward, grabbing my face before I could react. I tried to jerk away, but his grip was iron, fingers digging into my jaw. My hand went for my blade, but a dozen rifles clicked behind me, all pointed at Rafael.
