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There were six agathos there, including Foster, all squirming slightly where they sat. The other group of agathos further around the pit were far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear us, and I vaguely wondered if they’d had a sexually liberating twenty-four hours too.
“It was a perverted kind of magical moment,” Vasileios agreed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had lovers I needed to be so gentle with. Don’t worry—we made sure to dedicate our orgy to Dionysus. It was a hasty prayer, but I think we got the job done.”
“Very thoughtful of you,” I replied drily, imagining a roadside orgy with a bunch of daimons, humans, and virgin agathos, while also recognizing the terrible truth that Grace wasn’t stuck with me anymore. She could have anyone.
Why would she choose me when she’d absolutely sensed my wariness about our relationship while we’d been bonded? Yes, she’d asked for sex in the hopes of reestablishing the bond, but that may have just been a moment of weakness.
Grace was the Prophêtis. She could have anyone she wanted.
If she could choose anyone in the world, would she still choose me?
Chapter 29
“Wild!Riot!Whereareyou guys?”
The faint, vaguely familiar voice penetrated the fog in my mind, and I forced my eyes open. When had I closed them? The ground beneath my cheek was cool, but nowhere near the frigid temperatures it had been. No, the sun was shining overhead.
The sun.
The goddesses.
Bullet.
My throat felt like sandpaper, and each swallow hurt as I forced myself onto all fours, muscles aching like I’d just been ten rounds in the ring.
Where was I? I was definitely surrounded by ruins, but I couldn’t see the statues of the agathos, just crumbling archways and the remains of what had probably been walls. How the fuck did I get here?
Bullet had…
Bullet…
Thanatos had shown up. Taken him away.
My head pounded as I sifted through memories tainted by bloodlust. I knew I wasn’t seeing things as they had happened—I was seeing what my Keres side had seen. When bloodlust hit, everyone and everything was a threat.
Riot.
Fuck! Where was Riot?
I scrambled to my feet, my hands stinging as the movement aggravated every cut and scrape.
Come on, Riot. Where are you?
I clambered up the ruins to get to a higher vantage point, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of Riot’s dark hair or colorful tattoos. We’d been fighting, I remembered that now. He’d antagonized me on purpose, drawing my attention away from Grace and Dare.
Grace…
Where was Grace?
I wouldn’t have hurt her. Would I?
My bruised and bloodied knuckles seemed to mock me, and I shoved my hands out of sight, clenching them into fists as I searched for Riot. For myfriend.
It was a foreign term for a daimon to use, but it fit. Riot was my friend, and he’d helped me through my haze and I’d…
What had I done to him? Fear had me in a chokehold. I was a champion fighter, a Keres daimon, and the bloodlust made me stronger. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I jumped down to the ground, ready to run back to where I thought the library was, but a strange movement caught my eye. The blood dripping off my knuckles seemed to be… traveling?
