“Anyway, it’s nothing useful,” she said, and spat onto the floor. A taste of bad fish coated her mouth. She had to get out of the bar, away from oily blood and salt. Hermes helped her up, and she bolted jerkily for the door. She didn’t breathe deeply until she was fifteen feet into the night air.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” she said, and spat again. Then she started walking. If she didn’t get away, she might throw up all of her beer, and that was beer she had paid plenty for.
“What are we going to do?” Hermes asked for what felt like the millionth time.
“You’re going to burn down that bar, and then catch up to me,” Athena said without turning. “And then we’re going to find Cassandra. Before they do.”
5
INTO THE DARK
The backseat of Henry’s Mustang was way too hot. They’d cranked the heat up, not wanting Cassandra to get a chill, but it was stifling, and when she came back to herself she jerked upright, trying to get air. Her foot knocked against the side armrest and made everything worse; it felt cramped, too hot and too small. The camel-tan interior bled through her vision and as the car lurched to the left her stomach heaved.
“Open a window,” she mumbled.
“Roll the window down,” Aidan said, and a moment later the cold hit her face. She sucked it in hard through her nose, feeling it saturate down to her toes.
“Is that better?”
“Yeah.” She blinked at him. She was half on his lap, her legs twisted down behind the passenger seat. The dome light was on and Henry was driving, a little too fast maybe for the way he kept glancing into the back.
“Is she okay?” he asked. “Are you okay, Cassie?”
“I’m okay.”
“Do I need to drive to the hospital?”
“No,” Aidan answered for her. “I think she’s okay. Just head to your house.”
Henry’s eyes met hers in the mirror; she nodded.
“Where’s Andie?”
“Right behind us.”
Cassandra lifted onto her elbows and looked back. The familiar headlights of Andie’s silver Saturn followed close behind. She took one more deep breath. She must’ve blacked out. When she remembered why, her eyes snapped to Aidan, but he was just Aidan, no feathers or blood. He reached up to touch her face and she jerked away. There had been feathers coming through his fingers as well, red-tinged quills breaking through the joints and twisting out from beneath his fingernails. It made her fingers sore just thinking about it, like a nail had been torn off.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Aidan held his palm up and didn’t touch her until she’d relaxed. He looked from one eye to the other, checking her pupils.
“She’s never done that before,” Henry said from the front. “Has she eaten today?”
“Probably not enough. And then she had a beer on top of it.” But not a lot of beer. Not so much that she’d hallucinate. They turned onto Ticonderoga Drive, which led to Somerset Street and their house. Henry kept watching her in the rearview mirror, ready to jerk the Mustang around and drive to the hospital at the first sign of distress. When they pulled into their driveway, he came around to get her door.
“Hold still,” he said when she got out. He put his hand on her chin and turned her face into the beam of their garage door light. “Do you hurt anywhere?” Cassandra moved her shoulders and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She shook her head. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I think she’s fine,” said Aidan.
Henry ignored him.
Andie’s Saturn turned into the driveway, bathing them in its headlights. Her shoes squeaked on the pavement a few seconds later.
“You screamed and fell down.” Andie’s brows knit. “That’s weird even for you.”
“Nice going,” Henry snapped. “I wanted to find out if she remembered what happened.”
“Shut up, Henry.” Andie shoved him, but did look sort of regretful.
“Let’s just get her in out of the cold,” Aidan suggested. They walked with her to the front door in a tight formation, ready to catch her if she fell. It was nice of them, but the tone of the conversation had started to change, taking a turn toward talking about her like she wasn’t there.
When they got through the door, Cassandra squirmed free and took off her coat and shoes, grateful that her hands weren’t shaking. “I probably just didn’t have enough to eat today,” she said. “Andie keeps stealing my lunches.”