Furious

Chapter Eleven

The afternoon—at least it felt like an afternoon—continued with endless show and tell. Emphasis on show; I never got to use any of the weapons.

Pick them up? Of course.

Look at them? Sure.

But use them? Not a chance.

After the lesson—an elaborate instructional performance in which I played the dutifully captive audience—Gregory escorted me back to my apartment and into the waiting care of Jasper, the child-eater. I tried to say good-bye to Alex but she made a noise in the back of her throat akin to the noise one makes when you accidentally step in a puddle with socks on. I used to think I was good at making friends but this place continued to prove me wrong at every turn.

You're not here to make friends, Autumn.

Gregory disappeared through the portal with Alex as soon as I was safely deposited in the apartment, the sour look on his face during the short walk to the portal a direct result of my grievous misuse of his name. "Gregory, not Greg; only halfwits are named Greg. Do I look like a halfwit to you?"

There was no good answer to that question.

He and Alex complimented each other. I wondered not for the first time since meeting the couple if they were, in fact, a couple.

Another plastic wrapped energy bar lay purposefully on the coffee table. A third poked out from behind the sofa cushions; I wasn't interested. The thought of eating did not fill me with eagerness nor did it turn me off. I chalked it up to adrenalin, the unseen force behind this entire encounter. In fact, it had been hours since I'd eaten, but I wasn't hungry at all.

In those few hours a god from an ancient mythology kidnapped me.

I learned that I wasn't as completely human as I thought, though when I received no magic powers when Alex attacked me in the mirrored room I suspected not for the first time that they had the wrong girl.

And to top it off, regardless of my lack of inherent, dormant powers, I struck a deal to help Hades win his war. With a bunch of antiquated weapons and creatures, some of which I had never heard, that had previously only existed in mythology books.

So there were more important things to worry about than hunger that I didn't feel, like the fact that Jasper, Alex, and Gregory looked at me like the runt of the litter. Every person or demon or harpy I'd met looked at me with doubt, with humor, with disgust. They, like me, knew I wasn't right for the job.

Everyone except Hector, who seemed to put all of his faith in me. He was the only one who seemed to want me here at all, the singular person even remotely excited at my presence. The thought was not comforting.

I couldn't let go of the dismay. "Hector, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you've got the wrong girl. This isn't going to work out; it's not you, it's me." Regret washed over me only to be replaced by anger at the low point at which I found myself. My foot lashed out to kick the coffee table, jostling the precarious stack of books. I growled at the mess; clearly the books were the real enemy here.

"That frown is going to give you wrinkles. Furies don't generally live long enough to develop wrinkles but you could fool anyone with those creases," Jasper pointed out, not unkindly. My face instantly relaxed, frowning no more.

It would have been oh, so satisfactory to take that war hammer and smash his face in with the pointy end. Lucky for him, the hammer was on the other side of the portal where it belonged in the mirrored cabinet.

When Gregory dropped me off I hadn't even considered he would still be there.

"Do your exotic vampire powers give you invisibility too?" I sneered.

"Every time you purposely get my genus wrong, I want to sever your spinal cord so that you remain very much alive when I eat you regardless of the fact that you're particular flavor doesn't tickle my fancy," Jasper said with a thin smile. "My abilities are of the mental variety rather than the physical so no, I cannot become invisible. You were just too caught up in yourself to notice when I very loudly and openly walked in here. I would have said something sooner but you didn't seem to be talking to me."

Jasper didn't break eye contact as he sipped from the mug on the table next to him. Much as I wanted to fight him on the subject, correct him in thinking that I was too preoccupied to notice his entrance, I knew he was right.

"Tell me about Furies," I suggested. It was an apology and an admission and a change of subject; I didn't have enough energy left to manage all three. Suddenly my legs were leaden, my feet tied into concrete sneakers. My eye twitched once, twice.

Jasper approached on soft feet until he stood in front of me. He placed his hand under my chin and studied my face, staring into my soul. "You need to eat something. Trust me; you're going to start feeling hungry quite soon. I gave you something to help. Eat it now."

His hands placed something in mine. It felt oddly heavy—like it was made of gold and not chocolate. But I didn't know what it was actually made of. I still had no idea what the plastic wrap said, but when I tried, the contents bent within the wrapping. If it was malleable, it was edible, right? The plastic ripped with ease. The granola, not chocolate, inside broke with little effort. It tasted like wet cardboard but I was suddenly ravenous. Three mouthfuls and the wrapper crumpled empty in my hand.

I swallowed before I realized what I'd done.

"Aren't you tired, Autumn?"

Maybe. But the sooner I got the ball rolling on Hector's war, the sooner I could go home. There was no time for sleep.

"No." I lied. My throat tickled. With great force, I fought off a yawn.

"Liar." He stood and motioned towards the bedroom door. "You need sleep. Since you've been in Hades, time has passed over twenty-four hours. Think of it as jetlag; your body needs to acclimate to the new time zone. You have been awake for a very long time."

I didn't want to take a nap. "Okay. Lead the way, boss-man." No, don't follow him. "I'll just sleep for a bit, and then we'll talk about Furies." I think I might have smiled when I said that.

Stop that. Shut your mouth.

Jasper guided me towards the closed door and my feet carried me in his wake. They maneuvered around books and furniture until we stood side by side in front of it. My hand turned the knob without my permission. Then I followed my feet into the room, to the bed. Of its own volition, my spine bent and my legs raised themselves up onto the bed.

I tried to stop them. I pleaded desperately to regain control over what my body was doing. Never had I ever wanted anything more—not even when I six-year-old me threw a tantrum when Mom told her she couldn't have a Nerf gun. Or was it a water gun? Or maybe it wasn't a gun at all. I couldn't remember.

It didn't matter. Can't hold a gun if your arms don't work. Can't fire it if your fingers aren't following directions.

"Good night, Autumn. Sleep tight." Jasper closed the door. With me on the bed, awkwardly sprawled as if my limbs didn't know where to go if my brain wasn't in charge, his mission was accomplished.

"Night, Jasper," I told the back of the door. He may or may not have laughed. I didn't have time to think about his strange presence on the other side of the door, or my uncontrollable body, or war, or anything: my eyes closed and I was asleep.

I dreamed angry dreams of red and hatred. They were terrifying and glorious visions, the kind that you can't wait to forget when you wake up yet they burn themselves into your brain.