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“To interrogate and to use a gun,” he said. “What useful skills against gods.”
She reared back and tried to punch him in the face. He wasn’t sure if this was her attempt at demonstrating skill or an instinctual reaction to her anger, but he caught her fist before she could even drive it toward him.
Her cry of pain surprised him, and he immediatelyreleased her. She wrapped her fingers around her right wrist and held it to her chest.
“Let me see your hand,” he demanded.
“I’m fine.”
“For the love of the gods, Ariadne. Let me see it!”
She kept her teeth clenched and he held her gaze as she extended her hand. It did not appear to be obviously broken, and when he placed his palm over it, the energy confirmed his suspicions.
“You sprained it,” he said.
“You meanyousprained it,” she said.
Guilt struck him hard like a dizzying wave. He met her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His apology seemed to catch her off guard because she blinked. After a moment, she realized he was still holding her hand and tugged it away to hold it to her chest.
He cleared his throat. “You need ice,” he said and started to walk around her. “Come.”
He crossed the main living area and headed down a long, dark hall to the kitchen. He flipped on a switch, and fluorescent lights illuminated a sterile, stainless steel space, made so that it could feed hundreds at a time. Given that this underground network could house thousands if needed, it was a necessity.
He crossed to a row of tall shelves, located a box of sandwich bags after some digging, and filled one with ice. When he turned, he found Ariadne standing inside the door, staring.
“What?”
“Can’t you just…magic a bag of ice out of thin air?”
He tilted his head and his lips quirked. “I don’t think that is the correct use of magic.”
“You know what I mean,” she huffed and tried to cross her arms over her chest, but the pain seemed to remind her she shouldn’t.
He approached and handed her the bag. “I suppose I could have,” he said. “But I can also get it myself.”
Besides, he’d needed to create distance between them, even if it had only lasted a few seconds.
She took the ice and placed it on her wrist. “Thank you,” she said, so quiet he could barely hear, though in truth, he did not deserve the thanks. He owed her this.
“I am not joking about training you,” he said.
“I don’t want to be one of your maenads,” she said.
“Then don’t be,” he said. “But if you are going to stay in this world, you are going to need to know how to do more than just carry a gun.”
“Stop assuming all I am capable of is using a gun.”
“Can you use any other weapon?” he asked.
She was silent.
“A gun cannot help us if we are to go against Theseus,” he said.
She bristled at the mention of her brother-in-law, though he knew if she ever heard him call Theseus that out loud, she would rage. Ariadne hated the demigod, and from what he knew, she had every reason. Theseus kept her imprisoned beneath his will by holding her sister, Phaedra, hostage.
“Where were you going?” he asked after a moment. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “Were you going to him?”
