Claims Have Been Staked
With the gods scattering all over Olympus, heading who knows where, Boone doesn’t remove the helm on the way back to Hades’ home, and neither of us speaks. All the way, I feel as if we’re being watched, which is impossible. But if I’m right and Hades knew I was there spying on them, it’s only a matter of time before he shares his displeasure.
We go around to the back, the same way we did Hephaestus’. If anyone saw doors to the front courtyard opening and closing on their own, they’d wonder.
The second we reach the top terrace leading into the house, Boone lets go of my hand to remove the helm. Immediately, we’re both visible, and he runs a hand through his hair. “This helm is terrible for my beauty,” he says.
Such a Boone thing to say. Instead of hiding my laugh, I chuckle right out loud. Funny how knowing someone cares about you changes your perception of them. “You should return it.” I nod at the thing.
Boone looks down at it, then back at me with a twinkle. “You sure? It is a pretty handy gadget.” He makes a face. “Way better than dragon teeth.”
“Those already saved me once,” I say without thinking.
“Really? How?”
I cross my arms. “I’ll tell you after you get back.”
Boone sighs. “You never let yourself have any fun. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Before anyone notices.”
Boone’s eyes narrow. “You mean before Hades notices.”
“Yes.” A harsh rasp of a voice comes from the darkness inside the house. The lanterns immediately flare to life, illuminating a Hades who is all cold control, despite the dark smoke wrapping around him in swirling tendrils. “That is exactly what she means.”
Boone does maybe the worst possible thing and steps in front of me, blocking me protectively from Hades with his body, tension radiating from him so much the air around me heats. He’s holding the helm with one hand, but the other curls into a fist at his side. “This was my idea.”
“You don’t say,” Hades drawls.
I wince at the tone. He’s getting quieter.
Boone’s shoulders draw back. “I won’t let you hurt her.”
Would now be a terrible time to hug him just for that? Probably. I can’t see Hades, but the dead silence from his side can’t be good.
Needing to put a stop to whatever this is, I step to the right, but Boone scoots with me. So I put a hand on his arm and squeeze. “He would never hurt me, Boone.”
He tips his face toward me without looking away from Hades. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I say. “It’s one of the few things I’m certain of.”
That’s enough to get Boone to look at me instead of Hades. “You’ve never been a trusting fool before, Lyra.”
An animalistic growl comes from the god across the way. An otherworldly sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
“I’m not being one now,” I tell Boone. “Return the helm while I talk to him.”
His face takes on a stubborn look—jaw clenched and eyes hard—that I recognize. “No way in all the realms of the Underworld am I leaving you with him.”
Perhaps a poor choice of words. “Go.” I give him a little push toward the stairs, not that he budges. “I’ll be fine.”
“No—”
A rope of smoke whips around Boone’s chest, and suddenly he’s dragged across the room—or flung, more like, his body sailing through the air to hit a wall, then drop to the floor. The thud of impact hits at the same time as the metallic clunk of the helm on the marble.
Faster than a blink, Hades is across the room, his hand curling around the back of my neck, eyes ablaze.
“Lyra!” Boone shouts, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him jump to his feet.
Another otherworldly growl comes out of Hades, his eyes turning as dark as thunderclouds. “Don’t hurt him,” I say in a rush.
Hades blinks at me just as Boone sprints toward us. A wall of fire as tall as the ceiling ignites between us and him. The blast of heat against the side of my face, the immediate roar and crackle of the flames nearby—they’re nothing compared to the god staring me down.
But Hades didn’t hurt Boone. I can hear him through the flames, though it’s impossible to see him.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hades demands, and the growl of his voice is so low, so feral, I shiver.
Fires of hells, I was right. He did know we were at Hephaestus’ home. I lift my chin. “I was thinking that a thief should use the skills they have.”
“To steal gifts and spy on gods. Damn it, Lyra. They could have killed you tonight.”
“That would be interfering. The Daemones wouldn’t let them.”
“Not if they deemed you to be breaking the rules, and trespassing in a god’s home is breaking the fucking rules.”
My own anger rises, matching his, and I curl my fingers around his wrist, though I don’t pull his hand away. “Boone is damned good at what he does, and tonight he wanted to get information to help me. And another thing—weren’t you the one who first suggested I use my boon”—I gesture to the menagerie hidden along my forearm—“to spy on the other champions and their patrons, the gods?”
He huffs an unamused laugh but doesn’t respond to anything I actually said. Jackass. “Does he know about your curse?”
