Page 48 of The Demigod Complex
Leia closed her eyes, waiting for relief or perhaps a sense of justice served. But she was numb.
“What do you want us to do with him?” Calli asked.
“I don’t care.” Leia trudged back out of the water, inexplicably exhausted. Kaios’s death, and her revenge, had been a long time coming. Most of the time, she’d doubted this moment would ever arrive. Now that it had, other than knowing he couldn’t hurt anyone else, she just didn’t care.
She flopped down at the edge of the pond, her clothes once more dry as a bone. The fight up by the cabin must’ve wound down, because the sounds of the battle no longer rang through the trees.
“What will you do?” Calli asked.
Leia considered the last thing Castor had been saying to her when Kaios appeared.
“I don’t know.”
“What about Castor?”
Leia ran a hand over her face. “Do you think there’s a chance for a son of Zeus and a failed nymph?”
“I think love is worth trying for.”
“I’m not worthy of his love.”
Calli floated out of the water, her own diaphanous dress of white drifting in the breeze, also instantly dry. Her sister sat beside her and took her hand. “We weren’t worthy of your love. I should have been there for you. We should have supported you all these years. We’re family.”
Leia blinked away unwanted tears. “I always understood.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
Calli wrapped her arms around Leia’s shoulders. “You are worthy, sweetie. The question is, is he worthy of you?”
Chapter Seventeen
“Lyleia, can you come in here, please?” Castor’s deep voice sounded on the intercom on her desk.
She frowned at the tone to his voice, one that didn’t seem quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he sounded almost…nervous. She didn’t like it. What had those gods been saying to him?
After the fight with Kaios, Castor had taken them both home to Austin. While he had once again insisted on sitting beside her on the flight, he’d been surprisingly quiet during the trip, and he hadn’t brought up their earlier conversation. For once, Leia had no clue what to say, so she hadn’t said anything either. Back home, he’d driven her to her apartment.
He hadn’t come in. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I need to arrange something. After that I’d like us to have a talk, but it might take me a day or two to wrap up this other thing. Will you wait—don’t make any plans or run off again—until then?”
“We can’t talk now?” Despite her long life, waiting now would be awful.
He gazed at her with a strange urgency. “No. This other thing needs to happen first.”
She’d frowned but agreed.
“Come into the office like normal tomorrow,” he’d said.
Even weirder, but okay. He escorted her to her door, which had a fresh coat of paint and a gleaming new lock. She raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged. “I may have broken your door the day you left.”
He’d been that desperate? She shook her head, holding back a smile. “You and that god complex of yours, Superman.”
He chuckled, then leaned down and feathered a ghost of a kiss across her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She’d watched, confused and lost, as he walked away, hands stuffed in his pockets, head bowed. Something was seriously wrong with Castor. Was he regretting those words to her in the glen? Their nights together? His kiss gave her a small amount of hope that regret wasn’t his issue. But if it wasn’t, what was?
