Furious

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lindsay had me pinned on the floor—again.

Jasper watched from a stool in the corner. Hector joined him eventually. The two whispered conspiratorially and I tried not to pay then any attention.

"I told you to come back when you were ready to learn something. You're worse at this than yesterday, if that's even possible. It's like you're not even trying to beat me anymore. What are you gonna do in battle, lay down and let Zeus smite you?" She pushed her weight down on my abdomen, holding one arm across my chest while the other was busy holding her body over mine. My body was twisted underneath her uncomfortably but she didn't seem to be moving any time soon.

Having been repeatedly tackled for an hour on top of little to no sleep the night before was not my idea of a good time. Twice I imagined myself bursting into flames to ward off Lindsay's touch and we were both disappointed all three times I tried to bring out the Fury. Pinned to the floor under her strength was the only time I wished the more experienced Fury would just take the job and leave me alone.

But, I reminded myself, I had something she didn't. If it would ever come out and play.

"No need to lecture me, Lindsay. I know I'm no good at this," I sighed.

Headlines read out: Word vomit strikes again!

"Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Don't you understand the honor and privilege you've been given? Not only are you getting to head the battle to end all battles but you get to be the right hand of Hades himself!" If she wanted a reaction from me, she didn't wait for it. Lindsay plowed on. "Besides, you aren't the only Fury who could fill the position. Believe me, baby sister, I was to be commander before you entered the picture. Your discovery got me bumped from first in line to second; I once was the Fury savior to the armies of the Underworld and now I am simply your teacher. If only Daddy dearest could see me now."

Baby sister?

"Hold the phone; what are you talking about?"

"Oops, you didn't know?" Lindsay feigned innocence. The creepy three-fold voice of the Fates rang in the back of my head, seventh child of the seventh generation after the Fury sisters went into hiding. "My daddy and your daddy are one in the same. Did you think you were the only daughter he had? When you found out about your heritage, did you think you were that special, that you were the only one? Pathetic! He knew about the prophecy of the Fates and he wanted to be the one to sire that prophecy. He ditched you to try again, just like he did to me and countless others."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. What do you mean my father left?" She must have had extra bitch with her breakfast cereal. My dad was at home, with Mom. Or was he—had he left, as Lindsay suggested? And home was... where?

I couldn't conjure a memory of my mother's face.

Something wasn't right—more than wrong, something was missing. I couldn't remember home. I couldn't remember my parents or my friends or the last movie I'd seen. Nothing; no memories catalogued in my brain.

Just like that, I knew: I hadn't been remembering important details for a while now. They were just gone, and until this point, it hadn't bothered me that I couldn't remember my family or my childhood. Nothing mattered before Hector.

My breath came in short bursts, made all the more difficult with Lindsay's weight on my chest.

Lindsay was growling at me. "What is wrong with you?"

As if on cue, Hector came into my field of vision from across the room. I didn't have the brain capacity to be horrified that he may have watched Lindsay best me over and over again. Had he been there all morning?