Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Until next time, Cassandra.” The Minotaur turns in the opposite direction and stalks into the darkness.
I stare after him. What the fuck was that? I open my mouth, but Apollo shakes his head sharply. “Let’s go back to the room.” He practically hauls me off my feet, moving too quickly for my shorter legs to keep up.
I finally have to dig in my heels and force him to stop entirely. He growls at me. “Move, Cassandra.”
“No.” I pull back, fighting down a shiver that’s certainly not desire when he doesn’t release my wrist. “Either slow down or let go, because I’m tired of you dragging me along.”
For a moment, it looks like he intends to argue with me, but he finally huffs out a breath. “I’ll slow down.” He maintains his hold on my wrist as he turns back toward the house, but this time, he checks his pace so I can keep up without struggling. We still make it back to the room in record time. Apollo hustles me through the door and slams it behind him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Of all the things I expected him to say, this wasn’t on the list. “Excuse me?”
“The Minotaur is dangerous. Everyone at this party is dangerous. You can’t simply waltz off into the dark with them without telling someone where you went.”
I know this is fear. Apollo would never yell at me without good reason, but my own residual fear gets ahold of my tongue. I don’t even try to stop it. “I don’t need a babysitter, Apollo. You brought me here to do a job, and I’m going to do it.”
“Not at the expense of your safety.”
A bitter laugh erupts from me. “Right. As if I’ve ever been safe in Olympus.”
He focuses in on me, narrowing his dark eyes. “This isn’t harsh words and gossip, Cassandra. This is dangerous.”
Oh good gods, he’s like a dog with a bone. I throw up my hands. “You don’t think I know that? The Thirteen murdered my parents and then covered it up to look like an accident.” I’d been young and naive and too shell-shocked to think clearly in the aftermath. It’s the only excuse I have for going to the police. Not that it helped. They all but laughed me out of the station.
Apollo narrows his eyes. “Then you have no excuse for wandering off with the Minotaur. He could have killed you and shoved your body somewhere on the grounds, and I wouldn’t have known any differently.”
Like Hermes’s plus-one?
I shut that thought down fast. We don’t even have confirmation that there was a plus-one to begin with, let alone that they’re missing. Dionysus might have misunderstood or not been informed when the plan changed.
Either way, it has nothing to do with this conversation. “I knew the risks when I agreed to come here. So did you.” I’m done with this conversation. As grateful as I am that he hunted me down to ensure I was okay, I don’t need to be lectured on the dangers of Olympus by a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. A man almost universally beloved by both the public and those who hold power.
“Don’t walk away from me, Cassandra.” He doesn’t move from his position, but his firm voice stops me cold. “If you want to be done with this conversation, then say so. But don’t storm out in the middle of it.”
The rebuke stings. I spin to face him. If he wants a report, I’ll give it to him. Honestly, this should be a relief. For a little while there, I almost forgot that Apollo is nothing but my boss. I should thank him for reminding me.
I straighten my spine and stare at a point just off his right ear. “I don’t need you to protect me, Apollo. I’m here to do a job. Dionysus shared no useful information during the maze, aside from the fact that Hermes may or may not have invited a guest and they haven’t shown. I’m still considering information about why everyone is here, but based on the party guests and the prize, I would wager Minos plans to set up at least one of his children with single members of the Thirteen. I did not gain any information from the Minotaur, which seems to indicate that whole performance was for your benefit and you walked right into it.” My voice trembles, and I concentrate on firming it up. “That’s all I have to report. I’m going to wash my face and change.” When he doesn’t speak, I snap, “That means I am, in fact, done with this conversation.”
He doesn’t call after me again.
I close the bathroom door and slump against it. My adrenaline is already draining out of me, leaving a stark kind of clarity. Apollo was worried about me. He thought the same thing I had—that the Minotaur meant me ill.