“Nowhere,” I say.
I step. Boone steps, blocking me again.
“Excuse me.” I step again.
He blocks again.
“What?” I snap.
He blinks at me, probably because I never snap at him. Then a mottled flush creeps up his face, and he runs a hand around the back of his neck.
Oh…no. He doesn’t want to actually talk about it, does he? I’d really, really, really rather not. Especially not here or now.
An odd light enters his eyes, and he opens his mouth only to close it again. Sure enough. “Lyra—”
A loud murmur rises from the crowds in the streets on either end of the alley.
“I don’t want to miss this.” I manage to dodge around him, catching him on the hop for once.
“Wait.” He grabs my arm and swings me back around, reminding me of another man who did that to me tonight. I’m beginning to feel a bit like a rag doll, and about to say as much, but Boone is close enough I can smell the scent of the generic soap the den supplies in the bathrooms. I still for a moment, then shake my head. I have got to get out of here before Chance catches up and makes this all worse. I look pointedly at his hand.
He follows my gaze, then lets go abruptly. “Listen. I… Fuck… I’m sorry. Chance is an ass. If I’d been there, I would have done something about it.”
This is just getting worse by the second. I don’t need him feeling sorry for me. And that’s what this is.
“It’s fine, Boone,” I say. “I handled it.”
“I heard.” He grimaces again. “You’re sure—”
“Yeah. Not a big deal. It’s not your problem anyway.” This time when I go around him, he doesn’t stop me.
I get far enough that I think he’s actually going to let me go, but instead he’s suddenly beside me, not stopping me but walking with me. “You’re not trying to watch.” A statement, not a question. His voice is rife with curiosity now. “So, where are you going?”
I shoot him a sideways look. “I don’t need your pity friendship, Boone. I’m fine. Really.”
“This isn’t pity.” He offers a lopsided smile tinged with remorse.
I wish I didn’t know better. It’s not his fault.
“I thought we were cool,” he says.
Right. Normally, I’d shoot some chipper sarcasm his way. I just don’t have it in me. So I try a different tack and tell him the truth. “I’m going back to the den.”
“You’re going back now?” Doubt laces his voice as he looks over at the crowd we’re leaving behind. “What about the festival? The gods are choosing.”
“I’ll see the highlight reel later.” As long as Zeus isn’t king again, I really don’t care about the results. Hermes would be nice for the Order, though.
I gesture back toward the temple. “Felix won’t like both of us missing this. The upper bosses said we all had to be present to honor Hermes.”
He turns serious. “Chance isn’t easy to hide from for long. I’ll walk you back.”
I should have known he’d figure it out. “Don’t you want to watch?”
That cocky grin gets me every time. He holds up a cell phone. “Got that covered. The view from where we were sucked anyway.”
Sticking to me like a burr, Boone keeps one eye on me and one on the phone, reporting the gods’ selections as we make our way through near-empty city streets. The way we go, the fastest way, takes us past Atlas Tower.
Lifestyles of the uber wealthy and questionably powerful. Despite all the riches the condos in that skyscraper contain, it’s off-limits to all pledges. The inhabitants have enough time, money, and spite to make sure intruders meet grisly ends if they get caught. Also, everyone knows Hades owns the penthouse.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I wonder if he’s there.
Why am I thinking about him right now? He’s the least of my worries. I live with an asshole named Chance, and as much as I’m ducking him tonight, I know it’s only a matter of time before he takes a wrecking ball to my life.
I toss another quick glance at Boone and let out a long sigh. As awful as it was before, I’m certain having a secret crush on a guy will feel infinitely less painful than one your nemesis can taunt you with.
When we get to a chain-link fence blocking off the entrance to tunnels that lead under the city streets, Boone unlocks the gate, locking it again behind us. Just inside the tunnel entrance, hidden behind stacks of garbage, we pull out rubber boots. It’s the pledges’ jobs to make sure the various entry points to our underground den stay stocked with these and flashlights.
I straighten from putting on a pair when Boone says, “Looks like another is about to go. I think it’s Artemis.”
I wrinkle my nose. If they stay true to pecking order, they’ve already selected the first ten mortals. That went fast. After Artemis, only one god will be left who still needs to select. I sigh again. I thought I’d get more time before everyone returned.
I grab a flashlight and start walking down into the graffiti-covered cement passageway.
Boone holds the phone out as we keep going so we can both see.
With no flourish or fanfare, one of Artemis’ famous golden arrows shoots out of nowhere to jam into the ground on the screen, and a mortal appears in a poof of smoke.
There’s a stir among the crowd, and Boone murmurs, “Well, would you look at that. Artemis picked a man.”
