Page 40 of Apollo

She turned on her heel and strode toward the front foyer with more finesse than Artemis readying for battle. But no way had he ever watched his half-sister the way he fixated on this warrioress. On the mouth-watering moons of her ass. The sexy speed of her muscled legs. Most mesmerizing of all, the breathtaking force of her stop-me-and-you-die confidence.

A comparison that which, in its essence, meant close to nothing to him. In the space of just one night, this little female had already slain him. Swung at him on a crystal chandelier but slammed his libido like an armored truck. Aimed at his heart with her rifle bullets, only to slaughter his soul with her unfiltered passion.

Her bravery and determination, woven with her tenderness and humor, all of which she gave to others so openly, blew him away—all of which she’d given to him in the same manner.

It was emotional gifting he’d only experienced from his children, except she wasn’t a child. The woman had extensively traveled this world. Had likely seen things that should’ve left her with Theodosian-thick mental scars. But between her snarky quips and tactical prowess, he’d discovered a human with a ferocious need to connect . . . and a loyal heart to her ultimate mission.

A charge to he pledged to ride too. At all costs.

Even if it meant letting the lyre string go.

At least for now.

Korra wouldn’t get much farther with the treasure anyway, since they were close to a hundred percent sure about her new destination. Coincidentally—or perhaps not—the same airport for which Irowen had already ordered him to prep a portal.

But if they missed her now, Japan wouldn’t hide her for long. He’d just gifted Hades with a healthy demigod stud; surely his buddy would be happy to move a few things around and call up the sneaky starlet’s number a bit early.

The certainty settled in with such certainty, he actually grinned. Sometimes the fates really did align and favor the good guys.

. . . ollo? Anax? Earth to Boss Man? You listening? We need to talk, and fast.

And here’s what he got for the “good guys” reference without the fates’ permission.

Because if crows could actually frown with nuance, Quil’s would be an official ode to uncomfortable.

What the hell was up now?

He muttered a slightly nicer version of the question despite the new torque of his own tension. Thankfully, Quil didn’t make him wait long for an answer.

So-so-soooo . . . the recon team at Haneda relayed a wee bit more information than what I let on to your little lady.

“My—” He grunted hard. “She’s not my little—”

Uh huh, uh huh. The damn bird was humoring him like some bro buddy hearing out a drunken ramble from his friend. Instead of elbowing the little shit off his perch, Apollo growled and glared toward the patio.

“Just tell me already. Before Irowen questions why you’re holding me up.”

Quil darted a worried glance toward the front stoop. There wasn’t any time to indulge gloating vibes about it, since the crow hurriedly fluffed his feathers and continued, All the deets I’ve yapped so far are accurate, okay? Genny Steed was at Haneda, and was led to a car by one of Ito’s slick-dick goon squad. Our team got a laffy-taffy long look at the girl. He shook out his back feathers too, much like a clearing wayward hair back from a stress-lined forehead. In fact, they were able to observe another notable detail about the whole scene . . .

In lieu of a full grimace, in case Irowen decided to sneak surreptitious surveillance on them, Apollo flared his nostrils. “A detail like what?”

Because if Ito had allowed his men to make a dumb mistake, like hurting their hostage beyond more than a broken fingernail, no power he possessed as man or god would hold back “his little lady” from becoming a raging killing machine.

Quil seemed to clear his throat before going on.

The guard in charge of the girl . . . he didn’t take his eyes off her, even as they waited for the car’s computer to kick in and open for them.

“And . . . so?” He chuffed. “That was his job, right?”

With a constant grin on his face? Quil rebutted. One of the goofy kind. Like, you know . . .

“No.”

Except that he did and wondered why he tried to cover up that fact. To a spy bird capable of pecking through much thicker lies, no less.

“Enlighten me,” he snapped anyway. “Goofy? What kind of fucking goofy?”

Well, the kind she returned. Just as goofy. Like the damn boy was her prince, you know? Transformed from a beast by the magic of her kiss. Or something like that . . .