Cynna grasped the blade from her back and whipped around. Two more satyrs were barreling down on them. Bracing her feet against the uneven ground, she slashed out with her blade, catching the first across the chest just as he reached her.
The satyr dropped back and howled. Growls echoed at her back. Followed by more footsteps, smacks, bone hitting bone and cracking against rock. Sweat slicked her skin as she kicked the first satyr away and stabbed at the second. Her blade sank deep into soft flesh, and he grunted, then fell back on his ass. She yanked her weapon free and ducked, just missing the blade of the first who’d lurched back to his feet and swung his blade like a major league slugger.
Metal clanged against metal in the corridor as Cynna’s blade collided with the satyr’s. She ducked another blow and looked for Nick in the chaos. He was covered in sweat and blood, holding his own against all three now with both the blade and the mace he’d picked up in the armory, but if any more showed up, they were going to—
The pounding of heavy footfalls sounded from the tunnels. Forget if. They were about to be overrun.
Cynna twisted, ducked, and struck out with her blade, catching the satyr at her front in the neck. His eyes flew wide; he gasped and then dropped to the ground. Breathing heavily, she brushed the hair out of her eyes and turned, ready to grab Nick and get the fuck out of there. But before she could make a move, something sharp stabbed into her side, just under her ribs.
She gasped. Jerked back. Her eyes flew wide. The satyr still on his ass, the one she’d caught in the chest, grinned up at her with an evil, twisted light flickering in his eyes.
Son of a bitch...
Pain, disbelief, and rage spiraled through Cynna. Pressing a hand against her side, she ground her teeth and swung out, slicing clean through the satyr’s throat. Blood gushed from his carotid artery, killing his victorious grin. He fell back, his head cracking hard against the rocks.
Wincing, she turned toward Nick and leaned into the rocks, drawing a deep breath. A glance down confirmed she was bleeding. Heavily. Dropping her weapon, she tugged off her jacket and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pain. After tying the jacket around her torso, she picked up her blade again.
The footsteps grew louder. Voices ricocheted off the rocks. Holy Hades, they were out of time. “Nick!”
Nick had taken down one satyr, but Lykos and the other were coming at him from different angles. Blade in one hand, the mace in the other, he kicked out at Lykos, twisted away from the second satyr’s blade, and swung out with the mace.
Lykos ducked under Nick’s mace and twirled around behind him, trapping Nick between the two beasts. Nick whipped his blade toward the satyr on his other side, missed, and glanced over his shoulder at Lykos.
Lykos growled and advanced. The other satyr followed suit. Nick swung out at the first satyr and sliced through his arm. Grunting, Cynna pushed away from the wall and stumbled forward. Sweat slicked her skin, dripped down into her eyes but Lykos’s back was angled her way. And she knew if she didn’t help now, Nick might not get out of this alive.
Ignoring the pain in her side, she lunged forward, shoving her blade outward as hard as she could.
Metal pierced flesh, skewering Lykos in the back. The satyr howled. But before Cynna could grasp his shoulder and shove the blade deeper, a voice she knew almost as well as her own flooded the tunnel.
“Where is that shit-for-brains satyr?”
Zagreus. That was Zagreus’s voice. Cynna whirled toward the sound, every inch of her body surging with adrenaline.
Nick kicked the second satyr to the ground and pulled his blade free of the beast’s chest. He tried to see down the hall. Scowling, he muttered, “Fuck, we gotta go.”
Lykos stumbled back into the wall, one hand covering the wound clear through to his belly, blood oozing from the spot to stain his torn shirt. His chest rose and fell with his uneven breaths as he glared Cynna’s way. “You won’t get far, bitch. He’ll find you.”
Cynna’s vision turned red, and she gripped her blade to deliver the death blow, but Nick grabbed her by the sleeve. “There’s no time. Go.” He hauled her toward the open door and the steps that ran to freedom. “Fucking go.”
Cynna struggled to pull free of his grip so she could finally finish this, once and for all, but Nick held her too tightly. She shot him an infuriated look back, then realized his sudden urgency.
Zagreus stalked straight toward them. A firestorm of fury and vengeance and the promise of death rolled like thunder in his black as sin eyes.
Flashes of what had happened in her room, what had propelled her to run, echoed in Cynna’s mind. The blood. Being unable to move. Zagreus’s voice.
‘“My blood flows in your veins now. You will never be free of me. Not until I have what I want...”