Echoes In the Abyss

19|The Storm?|

~Perseus's Pov.

The tension in the room was almost tangible, like the electric charge in the air just before a thunderstorm.

Artemis was hunched over the table, fingers flying across her laptop's keyboard, her face bathed in the cold blue light of the screen. Every so often, she'd mutter something to herself, or more likely, to her AI, Abena, who had become an ever-present voice in our lives.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, just watching her. There was something mesmerizing about the way she worked-so focused, so precise. Even in the chaos of our world, she had this ability to make everything seem controllable, as if all the danger and uncertainty could be handled with a few keystrokes. But it wasn't just her skill that had me so captivated. It was her, entirely-her intelligence, her strength, the way her unruly curls fell over her face as she worked. She was unlike anyone I'd ever known, and that terrified me as much as it thrilled me.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, or are you planning to help?" Artemis's voice broke through my thoughts, her tone more amused than annoyed.

Caught. I pushed off the doorframe and walked over, leaning down to get a better look at her screen. "I didn't want to disturb the artist at work."

She shot me a sidelong glance, her hazel eyes sparkling with a mixture of challenge and amusement. "If you consider what I do art, then you must have a very low bar."

I smirked. "I prefer to think of it as an appreciation for the finer things in life."

Artemis rolled her eyes but didn't hide the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Well, if you're done appreciating, we need to finalize the plan. Damien's meeting is less than 48 hours away, and I'd rather not wait until the last minute to figure out how we're going to crash it."

Her words brought me back to the gravity of the situation. The Russian Mafia was planning something big, and we couldn't afford to let them get the upper hand. But the truth was, as much as I wanted to focus on the mission, I couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of my mind-worry for her.

"I still think you should sit this one out," I said, not for the first time.

She didn't even look up from her laptop. "And I still think you're delusional if you believe I'd let you face Damien without me."

"Artemis-"

"Perseus." She finally looked at me, her gaze hardening. "This isn't up for debate. Damien's my problem as much as he is yours. Probably more so. I'm not going to hide while you risk your life. We're in this together."

I knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. Every instinct I had screamed at me to protect her, to keep her out of harm's way. But Artemis was a force of nature-wild, unstoppable, and completely unwilling to be protected. It was one of the things I admired most about her, and it was also driving me insane.

"Fine," I conceded, though not without a sigh of frustration. "But you follow my lead. I'm not losing you because of some reckless stunt."

She raised an eyebrow. "Since when do I pull reckless stunts?"

I gave her a look that said I wasn't going to dignify that with a response. She knew exactly what I meant.

Artemis shook her head, the smile returning to her lips. "You worry too much."

"Someone has to," I shot back.

The banter was light, almost playful, but there was an undercurrent of something much deeper-something we both felt, but neither of us dared to fully acknowledge. At least, not yet.