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“It’s me.” Paris placed one hand over his heart. “And Orestes. And probably Achilles.”
“Son of a bitch.” I watched Pollux process the idea that all of his friends were falling for the same woman he’d fallen for. He wasn’t denying what Paris was saying.
I didn’t mention Hector’s name. It wasn’t the time or place. But I had a feeling, from the way his gaze tracked Leo, Hector was on the verge of falling over the cliff with the rest of us.
But maybe not. Hector played his cards close to his chest.
I didn’t want to be at odds with my friends. We’d been enemies once, on different sides of an unwinnable war. If we made Leo choose, there would only be hurt and division. I wasn’t willing to do that again.
“Let’s see what happens, and how things unfold,” Paris whispered. “We’re not the men we used to be. I wouldn’t hurt you, Pollux. You’re as close to me as a brother. And I may throw you through a wall, but I—”
Pollux sliced his hand through the air. “I need to think about it. I can’t answer right away. Just…” He let out a breath. “I’ll be back.”
Hurrying away, he was down the stairs and out the door in moments. A second later, Hector’s ancient Defender roared to life, the engine loud at first and then softer as our friend put more distance between him and the cottage.
“That went better than I thought it would.” Paris sat hard in the chair at the desk. The wood creaked as he rocked it back and forth anxiously.
“You would have done better to talk to him ahead of time. It would have been the right thing to do.”
“I know.” He pushed his hands through his hair, tucking it behind his ears. His skin was pale, and I thought of Leo, a story below us, standing in the dark in her room. “But I wouldn’t have known what to say then, either.”
Achilles would have driven the point home, but I wasn’t like him. I let the comment slide. “Well, it’s all out now.”
“Yeah,” Paris replied. “I guess it is.”
Leo
Pollux took off down the lane, driving way faster than he should have given the rain and dark and mud.
“Are you coming back?” I whispered.
He didn’t have a number to call, and he’d left without a word, so, so angry with me. Spinning on my heel, I realized I’d left my bedroom door open. I didn’t want anyone coming in to yell at me. I could picture Achilles doing that.
Or Hector.
What had I done?
Over my head, footsteps treaded back and forth along the office floor. I pictured Paris pacing. I couldn’t make out their argument, but I had caught the melodic rise and fall of their voices. And of course, Pollux’s angry booted dash out of the house had to have been noticed by everyone.
You’re not worth the trouble.The voice came from somewhere deep inside me and sounded a little bit like Diana Regan’s.
Diana.
I had that to look forward to as well. It wouldn’t make me any friends when I started to lay out my suspicions, and it would very likely get me fired. Because even if I was right, and someone at Oxford was feeding my research to Diana, then they’d want me gone and they’d want my reputation in tatters, so I couldn’t besmirch theirs.
There was nothing in this room to distract me, and Paris and someone else were still upstairs.
I would have to face the music at some point. Leaving my room, I stood in the hall for a moment before deciding to go into the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten enough today, and though the knots in my stomach didn’t make me feel much like eating, I knew I had to.
Achilles was in the living room, lying on the sofa, laptop on his knees. “What’d you do to make him run out of here so fast?” he joked.
I ignored him and went into the kitchen. It was dark, so I flicked on the lights and went to the kettle. A few minutes later, the water was bubbling, and I had spread on the table ingredients for tea. The door swung open, revealing Achilles, and inwardly, I groaned.
“What are you making?”
There weren’t many choices, but I’d found some beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, and eggs. “Breakfast for dinner?”
“Sounds good to me.” Turning to the counter, Achilles pulled out a cutting board and knife. He pulled the pile of mushrooms in front of him and started to chop.
