“Why’d you walk?” she asked.
“The Mustang’s snowed in,” said Henry.
“You saw?” Cassandra asked, and went inside. Odysseus, Calypso, and Achilles stood in the living room in front of the TV. “Where’s Hermes?”
“In the basement with the wolf.”
Cassandra gestured to the TV. “What is this? And who?”
Athena glared in disgust. “This is a message for me. From Ares. Killing young men. Athletes and scholars. Modern-day heroes I would have favored.”
“Why?” Cassandra asked, and then eyed the basement. “Because you took his dog.” She advanced on Athena, and Odysseus stepped into her path. “You didn’t think of that?” she spat over his shoulder. “You didn’t figure your psychotic brother would want payback?”
“I don’t know anything he’ll do,” Athena said. “But last I heard, he preferred combat. Wars in Central America. Not this Ted Bundy shit.”
“She thought he’d come at her directly,” Odysseus said. “I thought so, too.”
“Some excuse,” Cassandra said.
They watched in silence for a few moments as reporters commented on the actions of emergency crews. How unfavorable road conditions might have hindered their response time.
Cassandra’s fists burned. She turned to demand that Athena do something, but the goddess’ eyes were already black.
“Get the wolf out of the basement,” Athena said. “He wants it, so we’ll bring it. Achilles, you’re coming with me.” She looked at Cassandra. “And so are you.”
* * *
Getting the Dodge out of the snow-filled driveway wasn’t a problem. Athena simply picked the back end up and dragged it until it was clear. She wiped ice off her fingers against the sides of her jeans.
Achilles waited in the doorway with the massive, chained red wolf, its jaws taped shut. Athena grabbed it, lugged it down to the car, and shoved it into the trunk. It looked up with questioning eyes.
“Yes, your daddy called. Now, stay.” She slammed the trunk hard and waved to Achilles and Cassandra. “Come on!”
“Wait,” Odysseus shouted. “What if the Dodge breaks down? How do you even know he’ll be there?”
Athena listened with half an ear.
“Hurry,” she barked at Achilles as he got in. “It’s a long drive. We don’t want our passenger suffocating in the trunk.”
“We don’t?” he asked, and smiled.
Cassandra came after, slogging through drifts.
“Cassie!” Henry yelled from the door. “Don’t go!”
“Make my excuses for me,” she yelled back.
“The rest of you stay on guard,” Athena said. “Someone go check on Andie.” She ducked inside the Dodge and started it up. Odysseus continued to shout concerns from the door. When no one responded, he started down the driveway.
“Better get moving,” Achilles said, “or he’ll grab onto the roof.”
Athena hit the gas. The tires spun for a second before grabbing exposed asphalt and jerking forward. Odysseus started to jog, and then run, shouting as they drove away.
“What’s he saying, anyhow?” Achilles asked.
Athena glanced into the rearview mirror.
“What if it’s a trap,” she said.
Cassandra frowned. She and Achilles belted themselves in tight. The roads hadn’t been plowed in hours, and Athena’s foot was heavy on the accelerator. Their journey might be short lived. They might careen into a ditch before even hitting the freeway.
“Don’t go so fast,” Cassandra said.
“I know how to drive,” Athena said.
“Oh god, you’re one of those,” Cassandra groaned. “It’s not the driving, it’s physics. Traction and the lack thereof. Don’t flip the car. Not all of us are impervious to twisted metal and broken glass.”
Athena smiled.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. You’re afraid of the ice but not of my brother.”
“Why should I be afraid of him?” Cassandra asked. “He’s just a bag of blood to me, right? Isn’t that why you brought me?”
“Yes. That’s why.”
They turned onto the southbound interstate, toward Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, where the fires were. Ares, the prick, would’ve known there was a statue of Athena at the college there.
“Not so fast, I said,” Cassandra cautioned, eyeballing the speedometer. Athena reluctantly let the Dodge slow to a molasseslike fifty-five.