Spinning around, I saw the guys. Deacon had his phone in his hand, snapping pictures with a smirk on his face while Luke had two pures, one in each hand. He brought them toward each other, knocking their heads together. Colin had a cursing pure restrained on the ground and Seth . . .

Seth power-bombed a pure into the ground with one arm.

Whoa.

That was hot.

A hand snagged my ponytail, jerking my head back. I cried out, more in anger than in pain. I caught the slender arm and twisted around, bringing up my leg. I slammed my knee into the flat stomach of a pure. She dropped my hair and doubled over as I jumped back.

“Are they insane?” I asked, dodging a ball of flames that smacked into the tree above Deacon’s head. “I’m a demigod. For real?”

“And I’m the Apollyon, and yes, they are just that dumb.” Seth darted around me, catching a pure by the shoulders and taking him down to the ground. He raised a fist. “Really dumb.”

“Not dumb,” the pure spat back. “Pure. We’re pure and we’re going to keep it that way. And you might be the Apollyon, but you’re nothing but a dirty fucking—”

Seth’s fist ended that sentence. Blood and spittle flew. “Bigotry is dumb, you know, just in case you didn’t realize that yet.”

The pure didn’t hear him, because he was knocked out. Part of me couldn’t believe that this was happening. I turned and jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding a punch to the face.

“Gods,” I snapped, more than irritated.

Coming at me again, the pure lumbered forward, blood trickling out of his nose. He got all Fists of Fury on me, swinging with enough oomph to do some damage, but that wasn’t going to happen.

I wasn’t the same Josie who walked into the University months ago.

I was part-badass-ninja.

Catching his hand, I used his momentum and body weight as I ducked under his arm, taking him with me. I flipped the dude, laying him out flat on his back. I bet he was seeing stars. Or maybe Greek minotaurs. Whatever.

“Damn.” Seth stared at me.

“What?” I shook my arms out as I straightened, tossing my ponytail back. “Did you think I’ve just been moping around and not getting better?”

Okay. I’d been doing a lot of moping in my alone time, but he didn’t need to know that.

His lips twitched and his gaze dipped a fraction of an inch. His features tightened, and I recognized that expression. Hungry. Starved, really, and something inside me, something just as hungry and something entirely stupid, responded. My lips parted. Seth took a step toward me.

A punch of unnatural power rippled through the air. My gaze locked with Seth’s. The hue of his eyes burned a bright tawny color. “Is it a god?”

He shook his head as he scanned the quad. “I don’t know what it is. I haven’t sensed . . .” He trailed off, eyes widening. “What the . . . ?”

I spun around in the direction he was staring and my mouth dropped open. No more than ten feet away, double doors appeared. Like, literally out of thin air, and it was an ancient-looking thing. The frame was a silvery material I assume was titanium, and the rest was a smooth bronze.

Those fighting near it scuttled back, staying a good distance away. There were symbols all over the doors—ancient lettering that reminded me of the letter “F” and a really weird peace sign that also looked like a stick person. I tried to decipher the meanings, but I was too distracted to give my newfound ability the time. There was a Romanesque helmet on each door, and underneath each was what looked like a crudely drawn three-headed dog. I jerked, realizing what those etchings symbolized.

The doors swung open and cool, musty air billowed out over the grass. The green blades curled into themselves, rapidly fading to a dull brown as the heavy breeze pulled back into the gaping blackness. Two faint forms appeared.

“Oh shit,” Seth muttered.

I tensed, preparing myself for a horde of Titans or shades. Maybe even rabid bears or over-excited, spitting llamas. That’s not what came through the door.

A girl did.

She looked to be close to my age, maybe a year or two younger, and pretty wasn’t a strong enough word to describe her. She wasn’t very tall, but the tight jeans and tank top showed off a body that was somehow ripped and curvy at the same time. Long chestnut hair fell in waves down her shoulders and over her chest. Her eyes were a warm brown and her full, rosy mouth perfectly complemented her heart-shaped face. The girl was gorgeous in a wild, unfettered kind of way.

She wasn’t alone.

Beside her was a tall, dark-haired man, and Good Lord Almighty, he was . . . wow. He was taller than Seth, but not as broad, with dark brown, almost black hair, and eyes that were a startling shade of gray. His face was near perfect—high cheekbones, straight nose, and an expressive mouth. He was wearing jeans and a regular shirt, but for some reason I thought he looked like he’d be more comfortable in the garb of a Sentinel.

Behind them, the door folded into itself, collapsing until nothing was left except for the astonishingly good-looking couple.

“Well . . .” The girl looked around, dark brows arching as a half was lifted into the air and tossed past them like a football. Her lips were pursed. “This is super unexpected.”

“Not entirely,” the man beside her said as his silver-eyed gaze landed on us, settling on Seth as the girl stepped forward.

Deacon shouted over the melee, his voice filled with joy, and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw him start toward them. Despite all the crazy going on around us, the beautiful man smiled in response, flashing even, white teeth.