*
Getting the Dodge out of the snow-filled driveway wasn’t a problem. Athena simply picked the back end up and dragged it until it was clear. She wiped ice off her fingers against the sides of her jeans.
Achilles waited in the doorway with the massive, chained red wolf, its jaws taped shut. Athena grabbed it, lugged it down to the car, and shoved it into the trunk. It looked up with questioning eyes.
“Yes, your daddy called. Now, stay.” She slammed the trunk hard and waved to Achilles and Cassandra. “Come on!”
“Wait,” Odysseus shouted. “What if the Dodge breaks down? How do you even know he’ll be there?”
Athena listened with half an ear.
“Hurry,” she barked at Achilles as he got in. “It’s a long drive. We don’t want our passenger suffocating in the trunk.”
“We don’t?” he asked, and smiled.
Cassandra came after, slogging through drifts.
“Cassie!” Henry yelled from the door. “Don’t go!”
“Make my excuses for me,” she yelled back.
“The rest of you stay on guard,” Athena said. “Someone go check on Andie.” She ducked inside the Dodge and started it up. Odysseus continued to shout concerns from the door. When no one responded, he started down the driveway.
“Better get moving,” Achilles said, “or he’ll grab onto the roof.”
Athena hit the gas. The tires spun for a second before grabbing exposed asphalt and jerking forward. Odysseus started to jog, and then run, shouting as they drove away.
“What’s he saying, anyhow?” Achilles asked.
Athena glanced into the rearview mirror.
“What if it’s a trap,” she said.
Cassandra frowned. She and Achilles belted themselves in tight. The roads hadn’t been plowed in hours, and Athena’s foot was heavy on the accelerator. Their journey might be short lived. They might careen into a ditch before even hitting the freeway.
“Don’t go so fast,” Cassandra said.
“I know how to drive,” Athena said.
“Oh god, you’re one of those,” Cassandra groaned. “It’s not the driving, it’s physics. Traction and the lack thereof. Don’t flip the car. Not all of us are impervious to twisted metal and broken glass.”
Athena smiled.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. You’re afraid of the ice but not of my brother.”
“Why should I be afraid of him?” Cassandra asked. “He’s just a bag of blood to me, right? Isn’t that why you brought me?”
“Yes. That’s why.”
They turned onto the southbound interstate, toward Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, where the fires were. Ares, the prick, would’ve known there was a statue of Athena at the college there.
“Not so fast, I said,” Cassandra cautioned, eyeballing the speedometer. Athena reluctantly let the Dodge slow to a molasseslike fifty-five.
“At this rate, it’ll be dark by the time we get there.”
“All the better,” Achilles said. “We can’t go around killing gods and talking wolves downtown in the daylight.”
*
In addition to providing good cover, the dark made it easier to spot the flashing lights of the last lingering fire crews. They drove past the burned-out buildings and stared at them in angry silence before parking a few streets over.
“How close do you think we’ll be able to get without attracting attention?” Achilles asked.
“I don’t think we’ll have to get close at all,” Athena said. Above the houses smoke puffed skyward, still visible in the well-lit night of a normally safe, civilized neighborhood.
“I hope they partied hard the night before,” Cassandra said. “Is that weird to say? I hope they togaed the shit out of this town. Had the time of their lives.”
It didn’t matter now.