Page 29 of Hercules

“Eh?” he grunted before ducking his head to get out after her. But he was so fast about straightening again, already scraping the sky with a drone-seeking scowl, that Lo was certain he’d bonk his head on the vehicle’s frame. Attacked by alarm, she whipped out of Apollo’s grasp and back around toward the glowering giant at her back.

“Yo, Scribester,” he rebuked, though the tone was as velvety as his hands beneath her elbows. “Don’t stress. I retrieved your purse from Mira before we left. I’ve got it right here.”

“Oh.” It was a burst more than a reply, born from being touched but embarrassed to see Hercules produce her thin clutch from his inner jacket pocket. “Thank God for one working logic system in the middle of all that.” .

“Technically just a demigod, remember?” he murmured with threads of warm mirth, sliding the clutch into her hand. “But you’re welcome.”

As he finished the handoff, their fingers brushed—and holy freak if it wasn’t a moment from some cheesy rom-com, where the contact was so electric there had to CG sparks up both their arms. Moments she loved writing about, though literally swore off cheese from the whole apartment itself while doing so.

Idiot.

Because now, and maybe forever, cheese was her best damn friend.

If she could only trick this moment into lasting forever…

Especially as the man used his opposite arm to slide around her corresponding hand. Then higher, over her wrist toward her elbow. Not far enough to get there…but far enough. For more of the tiny but potent shocks to set in. For the awareness of how gentle he could be, even with fingers twice the size and length of hers.

And there was the thought that had her eyes squeezing shut. Because now, all that filled her mind was a little conversation between her and Nat, just a couple of weeks ago. Natasha wasn’t shy at all about her bragging commercial for Reks’s unusually long fingers…and how they spoke volumes about the lengths of other things on his body…

The rabbit hole of that contemplation opened wider, tempting her with more of its darkness, but it was time they didn’t have.

The longer Reks hoarded Apollo’s magic, the greater his chances became of cheating his way into Olympus. And though she’d squandered a lot of Classic Lit lectures, wondering if she’d get more than a smile from Joe Morone, she did remember that gods often started wars for less.

“I’m grateful even if you were just the janitor, okay?” she finally mumbled. “There was some important stuff in that bag, and you took the time to retrieve it when I was hardly thinking about it…”

As she trailed off, trying to imply the elaboration the point all but begged for, she dared to rearrange her fingers and squeeze his in return. Though her breath hitched as Herc returned the pressure, she ordered professionalism to her features and polite distance to her stance.

It was beyond painful.

“Okay, Super Scribe. Lead the way.”

Even now, with his gorgeous, cautious tenderness…

They had things to do.

Important things.

She pulled in a full breath. Re-squared her shoulders. “It’s through here.”

The path to the main entry was artfully Zen, skirting a small koi pond and waterfall. Though the flagstone pattern was wide enough for all three of them, Hercules joined his brother in flanking Lo from the back as she guided them toward the front door. Because of that, she enunciated her volume as they walked.

“The chinchillas are a new thing. Reks sent them to Nat just today. But they’re pretty cute. She also has a pair dogs, but don’t stress. Their barks are worse than—”

Her excitement about Miles and Gwen’s boisterous greeting was suddenly gashed in at least eight ways. Maybe nine. Ten. More?

And did it matter?

It surely didn’t match the ounces of blood lost by the young woman lying across the front foyer. Not just the thick crimson stuff in the puddle around her. Gobs of it covered her chest, nearly blocking the words on her polo shirt pocket. We Love Fluffs Rare Animal Care. More of it collected in the scoops of her ears, along the hairline above her unblinking eyes. The orbs that stared, totally lifeless, at the two keening chinchillas that had borne witness to her violent death.

Without thought, Lois joined them.

CHAPTER 9

Blood. Fuck. There was so much blood.

And screaming.

And fear.