How is this even possible?
I haven’t reaped a soul that I know of. Or maybe I did and haven’t even realized it. Maybe souls were attracted to the tattoo on my hip wherever I went and only Athena’s spell blocked the effects.
Tears prick my eyes.
I want this to stop, but doing so will be giving the bastard exactly what he or she wants—more power.
“No!” I scream, knowing no one will hear me. “No more!”
I refuse to be an unwitting pawn in this scheme a second longer.
Is it Ares, attempting to use this power to free himself from the Underworld?
“You’re not getting any more power,” I growl at no one in particular.
And so, for the first time in my life, I don’t drop the dagger onto the pedestal. I keep it held firmly in my hand, ignoring the burning, prickling sensation spreading up my arm. God, it feels like it’s on fire. LikeI’mon fire.
“Stupid bitch!”
“Die!”
“Did you really think you could escape us?”
“You’re meant to be alone.”
“SHUT UP!” I scream, placing my hands over my ears.
They’re wrong. I’m not meant to be alone. I have the guys, and I know that they’re searching for me right now. They won’t rest until they find me. I just have to be patient. I just have to?—
No. Fuck that. I’m not some pretty princess who needs to be saved. I’ll find my own way out of here, regardless of the consequences.
“There’s no escape.”
“You’re trapped here forever.”
“Forever.”
“Forever.”
“Forever.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I bellow, slamming my dagger in the general direction of one of the voices.
But of course, it goes through nothing but air…before slamming into the wall.
And cutting through it.
For a moment, shock holds me immobile, rooting my feet to the ground. Then I’m moving, grabbing my fallen dagger and slicing at the stone in front of me.
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
It cuts through the wall like butter.
“No fucking way,” I breathe, tears pricking my eyes, though I’m not sure if they’re from horror or relief.
Never in my life have I used the dagger outside of work. When I wasn’t reaping souls, the dagger sat on the pedestal. A part of me always associated it with madness and pain. I didn’t want to put myself through that any longer than necessary, so as soon as I released the dagger, I promptly ignored it until my next call.
So, to discover that I could have escaped hundreds of years ago? It’s a slap to the face.
