Furious

Chapter Thirty-Three

My lips parted of their own free will and my voice thundered in the room, "I am Alecto, the furious. I refuse to wait around for orders from a pretend god. I waited a thousand years to take on Olympus. When Zeus dares to show himself he will know who he faces and why."

So Fury-Autumn—Alecto, apparently—piloted my body while I was stuck in shotgun, merely a passenger. All along it had been her conviction that this is where I belonged, her confidence in this war. Alecto had wanted to fight and kill and fly over a battlefield soaked in blood, not help Hector and the gods restore the ambrosia to its rightful place.

Alecto's conscious seeped into mine. What made me human—fear, compassion, empathy, a sense of wrong and right—burned away to make room for something older, something stronger, something better. I was never before so complete as I was when I was the Fury. The Fury overtaking my body bolstered herself all around me, forcing me into a corner of my own mind, where I huddled in the prison cell of Alecto's new body.

I shook my head—or I tried to. The muscles refused to respond to my command.

Get out of my head! I screamed wordlessly. Alecto ignored it, seemingly unable to hear me. But I knew that she could, she wasn't alone in my head and there wasn't enough room for her to store me away in a dark corner. I was very present, determined to be very loud. So far, this wasn't even the strangest thing that had happened to me in the Underworld.

Alex stowed her knives. She looked at me, I mean Alecto, and nodded. Not only had she been the first to strike me down in training, but now she was the first to follow me into battle. In the mirror, Alex tied hair away from her face before standing ready in front of Alecto. Confidence laced with power oozed off of her, like water rolling from her shoulders; Alex was ready.

Didn't anybody realize what I'd just said? Their disregard for my outrageous statement cut deep.

Alex's reflection looked at me with lethal eyes, ready eyes. Her wings miraculously reappeared behind her, making her all the more dangerous. I knew she had been hiding them but it had been so long since I had seen her wings, I nearly forgot that she had any. Like my reflection's wings, they were thin and weathered, wiry and oh, so strong. My initial predilection towards them had once repulsed me; now I found them intriguing, powerful.

Lindsay's wings on the other hand had not appeared. "How would you know about Alecto?" she demanded. The irony that my nemesis was the only one who seemed at all bothered by my proclamation was not lost on me.

Gregory snaked him arm out and grabbed Lindsay by the elbow, holding her back. Lindsay was the last to understand that I was not in control anymore, but the instant it clicked in her head something changed. An angry haze swept over her, leaving behind the cold, murderous look that screwed up her human features.

Was that jealousy in her red-tinted eyes? Fear? Hatred?

Something about Alecto set her off. Lindsay shook loose from Gregory's grip. Fists clenched, feet planted firmly on the mat, she changed.

A ripple began at her head and filtered down her body. Her transformation was familiar in my eyes, now Alecto's, and I recognized the snake on her abdomen. Had I been in charge of my own voice I would have asked about it.

What did it mean?

Did I have one beneath the thin armor I wore?

Where did it come from?

Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? A voice sounded in my head—not mine.

Proof! I knew you could hear me. I stuck my tongue out at her. Rather, I would have if I'd had control over my tongue.