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“You speak of death—but you don’t smell of fear. There is something wrong with you.” “There probably is,” I said.
Beasts didn’t scare me. People did.
That was the thing about living in dark times—life got progressively worse. Always.
“The devil has a pretty face, and humanity is going to hell for worshipping it.”
Hades and Persephone. Their love was legendary.
Achilles sat still like he was carved from marble, and Patro lit a cigarette that smelled like cloves and tobacco. I scrunched my nose at the smell. Patro blew smoke in my direction and flipped me off.
“I could eat that creature in three bites,” Nyx hissed, and I discreetly slapped her. “You ruin my life,” she muttered, then let out a loud, raspy snore as she immediately fell asleep. I envied her lifestyle.
“Anger is a secondary emotion,” I pointed out helpfully with a dry croak as I backed away toward the land. “You should work on expressing your p-primary emotions...and not swearing.” Nostrils flaring, Patro cracked his knuckles. “Genuine question—what in the fuckity fuck fucker is wrong with you?”
During the day, the feminine urge to lead a fictional revolt plagued me.
“After these two weeks—” Augustus paced at the front of the room “—you’ll have survived the summer—the hardest part. The fall is easy. You’ll start visiting the animal menagerie to choose the animal you want to bond with, we’ll give you more frequent breaks, and you’ll gain access to the local symposium.” Where all the buxom sirens are subjugated? I’d rather not. Augustus continued, “There will be food at the symposium.” Sign me up. I’ve always wanted to meet the sirens. They sound like good, hardworking, big-breasted people.
Alexis stared at Cleandro with wide, grateful eyes, but there was a dimness in her gaze that was uncomfortably familiar. Life had hurt her. Badly.
The devil really is gorgeous.
