“What?” Cassandra shouted back. She turned away from the attack, and saw Calypso struggling underneath the Fury they’d thrown from the car, her teeth bared with the effort of holding the fangs and claws at bay. Calypso had one good arm. The other looked broken, and bled from four deep cuts.
Cassandra jerked the car door open and stumbled out on unsteady legs, but adrenaline made her move fast. She felt outside of her body. Out of control. The Fury bit down on Calypso’s forearm, razor teeth hitting bone, and Calypso screamed.
“Get off of her!”
Cassandra didn’t think. She grabbed the Fury by the wing and shoulder and its eyes burst inside its skull. She wanted it away from Calypso, away and dead, a harmless corpse on the side of the road. Heat flooded her palms. She heard her own voice, shouting. She pushed the Fury up against the side of the car and kept pushing. She kept pushing as it shrieked. She kept pushing until it popped like a blister.
*
There were no bones. No internal organs. No teeth, or claws, barely a trace of wings and skin. It was all liquid. Red, and viscous, and laced through with something like mucus. It covered the rear quarter panel of the car and splattered up onto the roof. It coated Cassandra from her hair to her knees. She kept her lips pressed tightly closed, but could still taste it, salty and bitter, warm but cooling fast. Her hands flapped; droplets shook free and struck the ground.
“Don’t move.”
Cassandra closed her eyes as the Fury’s blood began to drip.
Car doors opened. Whatever Thanatos was doing, it took forever. A scream built in Cassandra’s throat: half rage, half disgust. Her hands still throbbed, full of steam. But it lessened. The shock of the Fury’s sudden demise worked like a reset button.
A wet towel scraped along her eyes and mouth.
“It’s only water on the towel. Don’t open your eyes yet. Wait. There.”
Cassandra opened her eyes to a puddle of red at her feet. It was as if the Fury had been nothing but a leather, winged bag of blood. Thanatos and Calypso wiped her as clean as they could.
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“I killed two,” said Thanatos. “The third fled. Calypso, get her new clothes. And more water to rinse her hair.” His hands moved to her shirt and started to tug at it. She almost slapped him away, but she had to get the Fury’s mess off of her. That was more important than shyness or modesty. He stripped her shirt over her head. The night air hit her skin and made her shiver.
“Don’t make her carry so much.” Cassandra looked at Calypso. “I’m fine. I can rinse my own hair. Help her with her arm.”
Thanatos released her reluctantly and handed her two bottles of water.
“Calypso, show me your arm,” he said. “We need to splint it and find something to use as a sling.”
Cassandra tilted her head back and carefully poured water into her hair. It was freezing cold, and blood and mucus slipped under her fingers as she rinsed. Her teeth clacked together with shivers and nausea. The last of the water she used to rinse her face and arms.
Calypso gave a small yelp as Thanatos set her arm into the makeshift splint. Even in the dark, a ring of purple bruises was visible against her skin. But they were lucky. The bone hadn’t broken through.
“Are you all right?” Cassandra asked.
Calypso nodded, and smiled at her for the first time in what felt like a week. “I’ll heal,” she said. “You did well.”
“Yeah. If I’d known the thing was going to explode like a water balloon, I might’ve pulled it back a little.” Cassandra crossed her arms over her exposed chest, but Thanatos kept his eyes on the ground. He hadn’t snuck so much as a peek. She walked around to the clean side of the car and dug inside her bag for a dry shirt. Something black, to keep from getting stained by the blood she knew was still on her. She slipped out of her destroyed jeans, too, and after a second’s hesitation, tossed them into the ditch.
Calypso came around the car and leaned against the door as Cassandra pulled on a pair of pajama pants.