This is the losing team.

“I had a vision,” she said. Aidan’s arm twitched, to comfort her maybe, or just to touch her shoulder, but in the end he stayed still.

“What did you see?” Athena asked. Eagerness lit her eyes. It was like watching all the hackles rise on a hunting dog. The possibility of an advantage had crept into the room. They looked so hopeful, Cassandra almost wanted to lie and give better news.

“I saw a red-haired girl. Hera and Poseidon were torturing her. And before they killed her, she told them exactly where to find us.”

17

HEROES

The announcement was met with silence. Cassandra watched it sink in, watched each of them process it individually. Their eyes lost focus and then snapped back. Aidan shifted his weight. Odysseus’ eyes narrowed and stared through Cassandra’s head. Hermes’ mouth dropped slightly open, and his brows knit.

“We have to get out of here,” said Aidan. “We have to get out of here now.”

“And go where?” Athena asked. Her expression hadn’t wavered for more than a second. “Was there anything else? Could you see where they were?”

“A cave, maybe. Someplace near water. Nothing definite. Who was that girl? Why did they kill her? How did she know where we were?”

“Her name was Celine,” Hermes whispered. “She led the coven in Chicago. She knew where you were because we asked her to find you. And they killed her for it.”

Cassandra blinked slowly. “The building in Chicago. You didn’t blow it up.”

The stricken look on Hermes’ face confirmed it, but Athena shoved past him and snapped, “Of course we didn’t blow it up.” She paced near the foot of one of the beds. “Hera blew it up as punishment. And to stop us from getting to you. So if you can remember anything else from your vision, pipe up. I’d like to know where she’s at.”

Aidan stepped toward his sister. “It doesn’t matter where she is if we know where she’s going. We should be gone before she gets here.”

“Hang on,” said Odysseus. “How much time do we have? I mean, how does it work exactly? Are these visions, or premonitions? Has it happened already, or is it just going to happen?”

Cassandra shook her head. “I’m not sure. The building blew in Chicago about two days after I saw it. When did you get attacked by the Cyclops?”

“I don’t know.” Odysseus ran his hand across his face. “Days on the road tend to blend together. Not to mention the days I spent tangled up with the girls at The Three Sisters.” He glanced at Athena and cleared his throat. “That’s not much help.”

Hermes grasped her arm. “Were there other witches there?”

“No. That’s how they got her to talk. They said they’d spare the others.”

His face crumpled. “Spare the others? Hera doesn’t spare the others.” He looked at Athena miserably. “I didn’t run fast enough. I didn’t hide them well enough. Celine. Mareden. Estelle. Bethe and Jenna and Harper.” He said their names like a lament. “That coven spanned thousands of years and that bitch wiped them off the planet.”

Odysseus put a hand on Hermes’ shoulder. “You did what you could. And so did you, Athena.”

“Did I? I could have stayed. I could’ve fought her in the rubble. I might have lost, been beaten to paste, but I could’ve taken part of her with me.” Cassandra watched as Odysseus touched Athena’s arm. The way his fingers lingered, and the concern in his eyes. He loved her. Athena didn’t touch him back, didn’t put her hand over his. She didn’t even look in his direction.

She’s a virgin goddess. Men aren’t supposed to fall in love with her. She’ll break him, and she won’t care.

Hermes pressed to the front. “It doesn’t have to be enough. It doesn’t have to be all. She might not have gotten to the others yet!” He looked to Athena for permission. He seemed ready to force wings through his back, as long as there was a chance. “I could still get there. I could save them.”

“If they listened to us, they won’t be where you left them,” said Athena. “They’ll have moved on. And we don’t know how much time Cassandra’s vision gives us. It might not give us any.”

“If I get there too late, then I’m too late. I’ll come back.”

It was a lie, there for everyone to see. He cared about those witches. If he arrived too late, he’d do something stupid and heroic. He’d take on Hera alone, and she would forcibly remove his spine. Cassandra wanted to ease his conscience. He seemed so guilty, and so earnest. She’d thought she’d hate them all, but she couldn’t hate him. Not with so much desperation in his eyes to save someone he cared for.