“Want to?” Ares asked, puzzled. “Who cares if he wants to? And why aren’t you planning? Battle strategy. That’s your bag of tricks. What’s gotten into you?”
“I messed up,” Athena said. “I can’t be in charge of their lives. I won’t be. I’m a soldier now, just like you.” She laughed bitterly. She couldn’t believe she’d had to say that, and to him of all people.
She reached down into the ice bucket and brought out two fresh beers. Ares looked at her skeptically.
“A little early, isn’t it?”
“No, brother. It’s late.”
*
Hermes’ hands trembled around Henry’s neck. Not because he lacked the strength. He might not be able to hold himself upright, but he was still god enough to cut off a mortal’s air supply. He was still god enough to crack right through a mortal neck.
But Hermes looked at his thin fingers wrapped around Henry’s throat and trembled. They were numb and graceless as dry twigs. He had to be careful, oh so goddamn careful.
“There has to be a better way to do this,” he stammered. “Julia Roberts and Kiefer Sutherland made an entire crappy movie about it in the ’80s.”
“Hermes. You have to.”
“I don’t have to. Flatliners. That’s what it was called. Terrible.” He squeezed down gently, testing. “And fantastic. Like most things in that decade.”
“Hermes.”
“I don’t know why you had to ask me. I’m your friend. You think I won’t mess this up, but I could, I really could—” As he spoke, his grip tightened, and as he kept talking, Henry stopped. Henry turned first red, and then purple. He hit Hermes in the chest. Hermes knew he would, that his blacking-out body would try to defend itself, but it still made the act that much worse. But if he stopped now, Henry would make him do it again on an already bruised neck.
“It’ll be all right, when you wake up,” Hermes whispered.
“What are you doing?!”
Andie’s voice was such a shock that he let go. She stood in the open doorway, eyes wide and furious. Then she shoved him back into the pillows and knelt over Henry, rolling him over and slapping his face.
“Odysseus!” she shouted over her shoulder, and then glared at Hermes. “What were you doing to him?” She pressed her ear to Henry’s chest, felt his wrist for a pulse. “Wake up, Henry. Wake up.”
“Is he still alive?” Hermes asked.
“You were trying to kill him?” Her face grew as red as Henry’s had been a moment ago. “Because you’re dying and you think your sister needs another soldier? I should cut your head off!”
At her feet, Henry took a great, whooping breath and started coughing. She knelt and helped him sit up, tugged at his shirt collar as if it could give him more room to breathe.
“Hermes, you stupid asshole,” Andie spat. “I don’t care if you’re dying. I’m glad you are. We’re your friends!”
Henry’s coughing slowed, and he sat quietly, one hand to his forehead, blocking his eyes. Hermes didn’t know if Henry’s heart had stopped, but if it had, even for a few seconds, it might have been long enough.
“Andie,” Henry said. “I told him to do it.”
She drew back as though he’d slapped her in the face.
“Henry?” Hermes asked. “Or Hector?”
“It would be both,” he replied. “If he came back, it would be both. But it’s just me.”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Andie asked. “We decided!”
“That was before he tried to kill my parents,” Henry said as she got to her feet and backed away. “That was before I realized I can’t beat him. Andie—”
“So you were going to Invasion-of-the-Body-Snatchers yourself without even saying anything?” She held up her hands. “Don’t. I am so out of here. And don’t even think about following me. I don’t need a domestic on my record right before college applications.”
Odysseus caught Andie by the arm as she darted for the door.
“Oy. What’s going on?”
No one responded, but there were many eyes, shooting many daggers. Odysseus sighed.
“Time for a family meeting.”