Blood splattered across her cheek. She shoved the blade deeper, making the monster howl. “I’ve already learned my lesson. And I’m not your mistress. Not anymore.”
The satyr fell back onto the ground and coughed up blood. Nick kicked the weapon away from the beast and stalked toward Cynna. Grasping her around the waist while the battle raged on the other side of the small hill, he pulled her close and kissed her hard. “I couldn’t see you. Don’t scare me like that again.”
She sagged when he released her. “I didn’t exactly have a choice. This fucker was about to gut a kid who has no business being out here.”
Nick knew exactly who she was talking about. A youngling, no more than twelve, who’d been thrown into the battle by some asshole Nick wished he could find and throttle.
“You won’t win this,” the satyr rasped from the ground.
Nick glanced down. Blood seeped from the satyr’s wounds, pooled at the corners of his mouth, and stained his grotesque body.
“They haven’t even started yet.” The beast coughed, and even more blood sputtered from his mouth. Then the motherfucker looked at Nick and grinned. “You’ll never be as strong as Zagreus. He’ll break you yet. And every single soul in this realm. He and Hades won’t be happy with just you. They’ll win. Wait and see.”
The dark energy surged to the surface, coloring Nick’s vision red, and he lurched toward the satyr, but Cynna grasped his arm and pulled him back.
“Don’t. He’s not worth it. Look.” She nodded toward the satyr, who sputtered one more time, then went still, his lifeless eyes staring up at the stars.
But Nick didn’t care that the beast was dead. All he could focus on was the fact that the satyr was right. They were outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and as soon as those city gates gave, they wouldn’t be able to stop Hades’s and Zagreus’s armies from sweeping over the land.
Cynna grasped Nick’s arms and turned him to face her. “He’s wrong. Do you hear me? You’re stronger than Zagreus; you always were. I know it. Hades knows it. Even Zagreus knows it. That’s why he hates you so much. Because you conquered the darkness, which is something he could never do.” Her hands tightened around his arms. “This isn’t over. We won’t let it be.”
The clouds parted above, spilling moonlight over her face. And as Nick stared down at her, awe and love swept through him. She always knew exactly what he needed, sometimes even before he did, and he would forever draw courage from that. But she was wrong this time. This battle would be over in a matter of minutes the way it was heading.
She picked up her blade and motioned him to follow her up the hill. Reluctantly, he did, but as they climbed to the top of the small ridge, part of him wished he could just give in to all the darkness so his people could use it to their advantage.
They stopped at the crest, and his gaze swept over the battlefield. Bodies littered the ground. Blood and dirt stained hands and arms and legs and clothing. The clash of weapon against weapon echoed through the darkness. As did grunts, growls, and cries of agony. Of pain. Of death.
“Look.” Cynna pointed toward Orpheus, swinging out with his blade, taking down a daemon, then a satyr, and finally another daemon as if they were nothing but paper dolls. “See? This isn’t finished.”
No, but as Nick took it all in, he suddenly knew how it could be.
A surge of energy, of hope rushed through him. “I can stop this.”
Cynna looked over. “How?”
“I need to find Skyla.” He scanned the battle once more, his feet already dragging him down the hill.
“Nick. Wait.”
He spotted the Siren, fifteen yards from Orpheus, lifting her bow and releasing an arrow dead center into a satyr’s chest. A daemon bared its fangs and lunged for her. Skyla lowered the bow with her left hand, reached for the dagger from her hip, and whirled, her blonde hair flying as she sliced the monster across the jugular.
“Skyla!” Nick shoved a satyr to the ground, stabbed him through the heart with his sword, stepped over him and sliced out again, taking down another charging from his right. It was like swimming through a sea of bodies. Every time he’d get by one, another would appear. When he finally reached her, Skyla was as breathless as him. She kicked a dead satyr to the ground and swiped her bloody forearm across her brow.
“I need you to get me to Olympus,” Nick told her.
“Why?”
“Because Zeus will know how to unleash my powers. I can’t do it on my own.”
“What?” Cynna’s voice lifted at Nick’s back. Nick turned to her. Damp hair stuck to her temples, droplets of sweat slid down her neck, and her jacket was ripped at the shoulder and shredded along one side. But her eyes were wide and frightened. More scared than he’d ever seen them. “No.”
“I have to go, Cynna. It’s the only way we stand a chance. We don’t have enough manpower. You said so yourself.”