The Return

When I woke before dawn, I wasn’t lying on my back any longer. Nope. At some point during the night, Seth had shifted and I had shifted on top of him. Our legs and arms were tangled together and my head was tucked into a surprisingly comfy spot in the crook of his arm.

And he had been awake when I woke up, because his hand… The hand that belonged to the arm that I’d been lying on had been on my shoulder, but it hadn’t been still. His fingers had been moving, tracing odd symbols that went beyond circles and squares—symbols I didn’t recognize. But I had no idea how long he’d been awake doing that, or why he hadn’t shoved me off and gone about his business instead of lying there, somewhat peacefully waiting for me to wake up.

When I’d finally scrounged up the courage to pull myself off him, he hadn’t said something snarky or annoying. All he’d done was look at me in a very quiet way, and then we got ready to hit the road again.

I got the shower first. Not wanting to suck up time blow drying my hair, I towel-dried it off the best I could, and then pulled it up in a loose knot. Seth said nothing as he disappeared into the bathroom.

I puttered around the room aimlessly. It was too quiet and I was restless, full of unspent energy. My gaze landed on the bathroom door when I heard the shower come on.

He was totally naked in there.

I rolled my eyes. Of course, he was naked and now…now I was picturing him naked, and that didn’t seem right. I was attracted to him. Duh. That was also probably stupid, considering I barely knew him, he planned on leaving me, and for a buttload of other reasons.

In the short period of time I’d been around him, I’d seen so many different sides of him. It was like the Faces of Seth. He could go from sullen and serious, to teasing and downright annoying, to mischievous and playful, to seductive and dangerously deceptive in a matter of minutes. I’d never known anyone in my life like him, and I doubted many people, mortal or not-so-mortal, could claim to know how his head worked.

And I really wasn’t in the frame of mind to start that monumental chore.

So many thoughts swirled and crashed together as I stood in the middle of the quiet room. Whatever calm and control I’d had since my life imploded was beginning to slip. It wasn’t like I hadn’t realized how much trouble I was in before. I just hadn’t let it get to me.

Now it was getting to me.

It had started when it crossed my mind that I’d totally missed my psych exam, and the tight knot in my stomach fisted when it hit me again that missing the exam was the least of my problems. I wasn’t going back to Radford. There would be no more exams in my future. There would be no more classes or internships.

Because I was a mythical creature.

I dropped my head into my hands and bit back the urge to scream at the top of my lungs, total crazy-chick style. My heart rate picked up, pounding in a way that made those knots in my stomach squeeze tighter and tighter. Nervous. I tried to take a breath, but it got stuck.

Remembering the tiny deck I’d spotted the night before, I padded over to the door and went outside, closing it behind me. In the pre-dawn darkness, a lamp attached to the wall cast a yellowish glow across the small deck and onto the grass.

The cold wood quickly chilled my bare feet as I walked to the edge of the tiny deck, and I took what felt like the first real deep breath in forever. Having cold toes was so worth the clean rush of air moving down my throat, expanding my lungs.

Folding my arms across my chest, I stared across the neatly trimmed patch of grass and the still trees beyond it, focusing only on breathing and letting the cool air rearrange my head into something manageable.

I’d never had a full-blown panic attack—at least not one that wasn’t totally understandable, like when Erin had spread wings and displayed some wicked sharp teeth. That didn’t count as a panic attack, because I like to think most people would freak in a situation like that.

But I had felt like I was on the verge of one in there. A powerless demigod that experienced anxiety attacks? I coughed out a dry laugh. Maybe Seth and Erin and everyone were wrong. Maybe I wasn’t Apollo’s daughter. That would make more sense.

Wishful thinking.

Wishful, wasteful thinking. Because even if this was some giant mistake, it wasn’t like I could forget any of this and go back to the way things were. I could never go back. No one could—

A twig snapped in the silence, the crack as loud as thunder, causing me to jump. Another snap came, quickly followed by another. My throat dried as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and I doubted many people would be out at this time in the morning. It was time for me to get back inside, because other than freaks like me, I couldn’t imagine who’d be roaming around out here. I started to turn, but I wasn’t fast enough.

Someone stepped out in front of the opening of the small deck—a woman. Maybe in her late twenties, with dark hair and eyes, the woman had a stunning face, but even in the soft yellowish glow of the little lamp beside the door, I could tell her clothing was filthy and torn, stained dark just under the collar and on the knees of her jeans.

Even though I didn’t want to, I smiled at her as I reached for the door behind me, because that’s how my grandparents raised me. Always be polite.

The woman didn’t smile back, but she stopped at the opening, tipping her chin up as she stretched her neck to the side. Her nostrils flared. Was she…sniffing the air? Uh…

Quiet as a shadow, a man appeared behind her. Probably a few years older than her, also rocking a gorgeous face and ratty clothing. The faint, fake smile that would’ve made my granny proud faded from my face as the man’s dark eyes drifted over me. Definitely time to get inside. My fingers wrapped around the door handle.