I wondered absently what had made him so mad as I flopped back down on my ass with a sigh. If we really did share the same temper, then it didn’t matter what had set him off, as long as I let him take it all out on the rocks. Especially since I was unarmed. Which was the first of a number of things I had decided needed resolving fast.
He’d only been gone for ten minutes, but that was long enough to be completely alone in a strange place, and for the panic I’d so far kept subdued to make some headway.
I had been abducted by the God of War and taken to a world that by all rights shouldn’t exist. It probably said a lot about me that until I was alone and unarmed, a secret little part of me had actually been excited by that. Something in my life finally felt right, even if it was kind of impossible, and my friend’s life was in danger.
As long as the adrenaline was burning through me I could eliminate anything that made me weak, any self-doubt or emotion that wasn’t helpful. But standing in a fucking desert with nothing at all did the opposite of that. Worry had begun crashing through me unchecked, a whirlwind of doubt and the undeniable truth that I was in way, way over my head smashing into me like a wrecking ball. The reality of my whole life changing in one day, being wanted dead by a violent god and now being expected to chase down a demon escaped from the Underworld finally hit me. And in a world where everyone was armed with dirty great swords or freaking magic, I was woefully under-equipped.
At that point in my runaway-train of panicked thoughts I had managed to latch onto something and steady myself. Weapons. I needed a weapon. With something nice and violent to focus on, I’d sat down on the hot sand, taken a deep breath, and forced myself to concentrate.
Joshua had once told me that list-making was a good way to feel in charge of a situation that otherwise felt out of my control. At the time this had seemed like good advice for when I lost yet another job, or my fuckwit landlord put my rent up for no good reason. But now that I knew Joshua was some sort of magic person from another damned world, I had to wonder under what circumstances he had really intended his advice to be used. It probably wasn’t sat in a desert somewhere in Olympus trying to keep a panic attack at bay. None-the-less, I had made myself a list entitled ‘things I need to survive in the realm of war’.
As Ares yelled again, his huge sword running out of rocks to smash, another stab of betrayal bit at me. Joshua had known I was different the whole time. He had known I really didn’t belong, and that it wasn’t a damned chemical imbalance. He had tried to help me believe that I was normal, instead of just telling me why I’d always felt so out of place, so trapped. So wrong for the world I was in.
I squashed the feeling with a snort, and went through my list again in my head. There was no point getting myself worked up about Joshua until I had at least saved his life. I could yell at him for lying to me after that.
When Ares finally stomped back to me, his shoulders were heaving and his sword hung limply from his right arm.
“Better?” I asked him.
“No. Let’s go.”
“Woahhhh there,” I said, springing to my feet. “You got to take care of some business, so I think it’s only fair that I do too.”
“Your business is inconsequential,” he said. I bit down on my tongue, hard. I would not swear at him. I needed his co-operation.
“It would make life a lot easier for both of us if I had a change of clothes and some of my stuff,” I said calmly.
“Why do you need more clothes?” he scowled.
“Because I like to change my fucking underwear every now and then!” So much for not swearing.
“Use magic,” he shrugged.
“I don’t know how to.”
“Then I shall do it.”
“Not a chance in sweet freaking hell are you going anywhere near my underwear!”
“As if I-” he started angrily, but I held up my hands and spoke over him as loudly as I could.
“Just take me to my apartment so I can throw some stuff in a backpack, or I’ll give you endless shit until you do. It’s that simple, armor-boy.”
I knew I would win eventually, and I was right. But I wasn’t prepared for the feeling I got when Ares finally flashed us back to my apartment and I stared around at the dimly-lit space. A pang of something strong gripped me, and it wasn’t sadness or fondness for my home. It was a gut-wrenching delight at the thought that I might never have to see the place again.
It may have been a little premature, but I was quite sure that whatever the hell was happening to me was the start of something that did not end with me returning to this dump.
“You live here?” Ares’ tone held a note of disbelief, and something else I couldn’t identify. Probably general assholery, I decided as I made my way quickly through my tiny kitchen, into my tinier bedroom. I was lucky to have a separate bedroom at all, living this close to the city center, but that didn’t mean I liked the place. The neighbors were awful, always yelling at each other, fighting and throwing stuff that banged off the walls and set my temper humming. And everything was damp. The shitty landlord never fixed anything he was asked to, and no matter how much mold-removing product I covered the minuscule shower-room in, dark slimy mildew always crept back over the walls and ceiling in a matter of hours.
“Where do you sit, or eat?” Ares called as I pulled up the thin single mattress on my bed to get to the storage space beneath it.
I ignored him, finding an old khaki-colored backpack and yanking it out. The answer was that I ate sitting on the bed, the bare walls closing in around me as I tried to watch Netflix or read on my phone. I was an outdoors kind of girl, and ADHD levels of hyperactivity meant I was ill-suited to a space this cramped. But I couldn’t afford more. Hell, right now I couldn’t even afford this. The only saving grace of the entire building was the basement. It had been slowly filled over the years with tired but functional second-hand gym gear, including a punch-bag. I couldn’t pay for real gym membership, so even though it had no ventilation and got hotter than the freaking sun down there under the four-story concrete building, I never uttered a bad word about it. I needed it.
I started to throw t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a whole pile of socks and underwear into the bag, barely paying attention to what I was selecting. Other than my Guns N’ Roses t-shirt. I made sure I had that. I slipped off my sneakers and shoved them into the bag, pulling my only decent-quality shoes on in their place. They were whacking great big walking boots, with hidden steel-caps, that did some serious damage to whatever they connected with.
Then I pulled open the drawer in the little unit by my bed and wrapped my hand around the thing I had really come for. My flick-blade. It may not be as big as Ares’ sword, but the little knife and I had history, and it had never let me down. No way was I facing Underworld demons without it. Or hulking armored giants with no sense of humor.
“I am glad you came back here.”
I jumped so hard in surprise that the blade slipped from my fingers and landed on the threadbare carpet.
“Zeeva!” The bastard cat appeared on my bed, her tail swishing.
“You are aware you are unlikely to see this place again?”
“Yes, and good riddance,” I said, picking up my knife, pulse slowing.