“I hate this,” he whispered. “And I hate them.”
Cassandra leaned against his shoulder and stared at her family.
“I’ll kill every one of them, I promise. And I’ll give you your life back, as soon as I can.”
* * *
The light in Aidan’s bedroom was scant, silvery, and indirect, filtered through layers of clouds before it hit the window. Long, dark curtains blocked most of it, and they hadn’t turned on the bedside lamp. Aidan paced quietly in front of his open closet, like he wasn’t sure where to begin, and Cassandra didn’t push. If she didn’t push, maybe the moment would drag out, and everything would go away on its own.
“I think we should go south, find the coast. Athena doesn’t care for the sea; she might avoid it.” He stopped, swallowed.
“If you think so.”
“I don’t know what to think. It’s a guess, and a wild one. I don’t have any idea what my sister might or might not do anymore.”
The muscles in Cassandra’s arms and back ached from raking and from plain old fatigue. It didn’t matter where they went. They were going away. She felt numb and exhausted. Aidan would have to drag her along, wherever he decided to go. She’d asked him when they could come back and he’d said he didn’t know. But they were running from gods. Gods. They’d never be able to come back.
I’ll never come back. This life is over.
Aidan started to move suddenly, like someone had flipped a switch. He grabbed clothes out of his closet and stuffed them into a black duffel bag; he emptied his drawers of socks and t-shirts and shoved them in too.
“I’m going to have to get money out,” he said. He’d paused at his desk, his eyes moving over his things: his laptop covered in stickers, a few paperbacks, a small curved snake figurine made of pewter with gold gemstone eyes. His parents had gotten it for him at a festival they’d gone to. Cassandra watched him slide it into the duffel with his laptop.
“I should write them a note. Tell them we went to—tell them we went somewhere together and will be back in a few days. Maybe then they won’t call the police until we’re too far to be caught.” He flipped open a notebook and grabbed a pen. “You should write one for your parents too.”
His hands shook, and he put pen to paper three times before setting it down and taking a breath.
It’s hard for him. But he’s had to do it before. He’s had to love people and leave them before they knew what he was.
She didn’t know whether that made it easier. Whether it made it better or worse.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“I know. But you’re brave too.”
“Am I? Is that why I want to call you a liar? Why I want to run through that door, and down the stairs, and go back home like nothing ever happened?”
He turned and knelt at her feet. He would be with her. She wouldn’t be alone. But she wanted Andie and Henry. She wanted her parents. Aidan’s hands rubbed along the sides of her legs, like he was trying to warm her after coming in from the cold.
“We’d better get going back to your place,” he said. “And we’d better hope that Henry is napping.”
“Why?”
“Because my parents have both of the cars. We’re sort of going to have to borrow his.”
Cassandra laughed humorlessly. “He’s going to kill us.”
14
CONVERGENCE, OR, WELCOME TO KINCADE, EMERGENCY EXITS ONLY
He cut a welcome figure on the side of the highway. Athena sighed with relief. She knew he could take care of himself.
Hermes lifted an arm in greeting. Odysseus waved and tucked his poor, mortal neck in like a turtle’s against the light, cold mist, too light to complain about, just cold enough to make him miserable. They’d only been walking in it for a few miles, since their ride on Route 17 had let them out, but Odysseus looked about ready to catch pneumonia.
“Took you long enough,” Hermes said when they reached him. The orange polo shirt and black jacket he wore were damp and clinging, but he didn’t shiver. Neither did Athena, standing tall in her wet, filthy cardigan.
“It annoys the hell out of me that I’m the only one uncomfortable.” Odysseus tucked his hands under his arms while Athena greeted her brother.
“You’re not the only one uncomfortable.” Athena had been coughing off and on since they’d parted ways with Craig in Buffalo. And Hermes’ bones looked ready to burst through the skin. Odysseus nodded.
“How did you know where to wait?” Athena asked.