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He tore through the house on a wild rampage, alternately smashing things, groaning in pain, and shouting English and Chinese profanities.
An hour passed. The intensity of his rage did not.
The goddesses cringed in their rooms, panicked over the outcome of this tirade. They understood that no new goddess would be joining them. Something major had gone wrong. And, whatever it was, Delphi would be taking it out on them.
But who? When? And how?
Waiting it out, and the apprehension that accompanied it, were unendurable.
Finally, they heard the stomping of his footsteps heading downstairs. Each of them froze and waited.
The metallic clink of keys. The moment or two until he found the one he wanted. And then the fumbling that indicated he was beyond fury and into psychosis.
Surprisingly, it was Hestia’s door he unlocked.
“I need your help,” he commanded, shutting the door behind him.
Hestia flinched. She was calm by nature, but Delphi had terrified her from day one. She compensated by obeying all his rules, and asking for as little as possible. Her goal was to remain almost invisible, a plan that seemed to be working, based on the fact that Delphi rarely spent any time with her. And it was unprecedented for him to single her out.
Until now.
She forced herself to rise, knowing he expected a response, and unsure what response would provoke him least. Before she could decide, he stepped out of the shadows and into the light, limping painfully toward her. As he approached, she could see that his nose was bloody, there was an ice pack strapped to his pants in the groin area, and his right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle.
Now she understood why he’d chosen her to come to.
“You’re badly hurt,” she confirmed quietly. “What can I do?”
“Hestia, the goddess of home and hearth,” he muttered. He was half out of it from whatever narcotics he’d taken for the pain, and from the sheer exhaustion resulting from his rampage.
“Yes,” she replied, keeping him calm by agreeing with him. “Now I’m Hestia. But before that, I was a nurse. Which is why you’re here. Describe your injuries to me, and how you got them.”
“Tyche, that bitch.” He was rambling, yet the pieces were easy enough to put together. “She launched a counterstrike. Against me of all people. I was her savior.”
Bravo, she thought silently. Whoever you are, Tyche, you got away. And you caused him pain in the process. I pray you take this to the police. If you do, maybe there can still be hope for us.
Aloud, she said only, “Show me.”
In answer, he rolled up his sleeve, and she could see that his wrist was badly swollen and discolored. With his left hand, he reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out some first-aid supplies. “I used ice on the drive back,” he told her. “I stopped at a pharmacy and bought an Ace bandage. I need you to wrap my wrist. I can’t do it one-handed.”
Hestia examined the wound. “The swelling is bad. The wrist could be fractured. You need to have it X-rayed.”
“I can’t and it isn’t,” he retorted. “I’ll continue to ice it. I’ll also elevate it and rest it. Now help me with the Ace bandage.”
She summoned all her courage and tried one last time. “It’s at least a grade-two sprain, if not a grade three. Which means, at best, the ligaments are partially torn, and, at worst, they’re completely torn. The joint will be impacted. You need to get to a hospital.”
“I said no!” he shouted. “Whatever treatment I need, you’ll provide. You’re a nurse. You worked in a hospital. Now fix it!”
“All right.” Alarmed by his outburst and the crazed, drugged look in his eyes, she took the Ace bandage, and with trembling fingers, she wrapped his injured wrist from the base of his fingers all the way to the top of his forearm, overlapping the wrap so it was as snug and supportive as possible without cutting off the circulation. “That should help,” she said. “Apply ice for twenty minutes at a time, every three to four hours. Do that for two days. Use the wrist as little as possible; it needs rest. Also, keep it elevated as much as possible. Prop a pillow under it when you sleep.”
He glanced over her handiwork. “A skillful job. I knew you were Hestia. I was right when it came to you. I was right when it came to all my goddesses. Tyche was a gross error in judgment. I don’t allow myself those.”
“Of course not. Nor do you make them.” Hestia prayed she was choosing the right words. “This Tyche who hurt you isn’t destined to be a goddess. That’s her flaw, not yours.”
Some of the wild rage left his eyes. “You’re right. She’s the deficient one, not I.”
“Exactly.” Hestia felt a surge of relief. “As for your nose, clean it up and apply an ice pack. That’ll take down the swelling. But the injury to your groin could be serious. I strongly urge you to see a doctor.”
His gaze hardened again. “I know what signs to look for. I’ll handle it.”
