by S. L. Stacy
A peal of girlish laughter breaks my trance. Two girls engrossed in conversation are walking by me, the one about to trip over my outstretched foot. I pull it back, too late. She stumbles, then—quickly righting herself—looks down, inspecting the ground in confusion.
“Are you okay?” her friend asks, concerned.
“Yeah, I just…” She looks up, peering into the dark space between the haunted house and the game booth. She doesn’t know it, but she’s looking right at me. All she sees is what my sister and I want her to see—want anyone to see—a narrow, empty alley steeped in shadows.
The other girl follows her gaze. “What is it?”
“I just thought…” She shakes her head, shrugging. “It’s nothing. Never mind.” They move on.
I cross my legs, settling in to watch the enormous wheel ride in the center of the park, glittering like a spiral galaxy as it turns around…and around…and around…
“Dolos. Dolos,” Apate says from somewhere further back in our hideout, in a tone that says she’s been trying to get my attention for a while.
“What?” I call back without turning to look at her.
“Get back here.”
“No!” I fold my arms against the sharp wind whipping through the alley. “You come over here.”
“It’s safer back here,” she insists.
“I’m fine right where I am. No one can see us. Or hear us,” I remind her.
“I know.”
“Then it doesn’t matter if I’m up here or back there!”
There’s a rustle of movement, followed by the heavy click of boots, and Apate appears beside me, rubbing her bare arms for warmth. Like me, my twin sister has dark hair, pale skin and bright green eyes, which are presently filled with worry. “It just feels safer,” she says. “They might not be able to see you, but you’re still in the way. That girl tripped over you.”
“If it happens again, I’ll get out of the way faster,” I promise. “Otherwise, I’m staying put. I’m people-watching.”
Apate nudges me with her boot. “Creeper.”
I squint up at her. “What?”
“It’s a slang word for someone who does weird or creepy things—like watching people that can’t see you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Sounds like someone’s been spending a little too much time with the humans.”
“Whatever,” Apate scoffs. “Creeper.”
“We could always go back inside.” I cock my head toward the haunted house, where we’ve been staying for the last several nights, after the park closes. It’s the latest in our string of surely-they-won’t-think-to-look-for-us-here hideouts. We never stay at any one of them for too long. There are a lot of people we’re trying to avoid. “Give the patrons a better scare than anything those amateurs in monster costumes could come up with.” I smile in anticipation, but my sister just sighs.
“I’m not in the mood.”
My smile turns into a scowl. “Not in the mood for what? Fun?”
“Hello.”
We both shudder and look toward the sound of the small voice. There’s a little girl standing a few feet away, staring at us. I jump to my feet and take a few steps back. Apate laughs at me.
“No one can see us,” Apate says, lowering her voice in a weak and rather insulting imitation of me. “Remember?”
“I know, but it really looks like she can,” I tell her, pointing at the little girl. She continues to gaze into the dark alley with round, blue eyes, chubby cheeks framed by delicate blonde curls. Her tiny fingers are wrapped around the white stick of a giant piece of rainbow-colored candy.
Apate shakes her head, eyes shifting to something on the ground. “She’s not looking at us.”
At that moment, something velvety and black streaks past us. The creature stops at the girl’s feet and looks up at her imploringly. She bends down and strokes between the animal’s triangular ears with her free hand. “Hello, Mr. Cat.”
I let out a breath. “That was close.”
“A black cat,” Apate says, regarding the creature warily. “The humans think they’re bad luck.”
“Since when are you superstitious?”
“I’m not,” she insists, crossing her arms. Even so, she bites her lower lip, scanning the park nervously.
Shrugging, I turn to watch the horse ride some more, but it’s coming to a stop to let the riders off, the buoyant accompaniment dying with it. It’s a shame. I preferred it over the music playing from inside the game booth next door—“96.1 Hot FM, Shadesburg’s number one hit music station,” according to the announcer. They’ve been cycling through the same lineup of songs all evening, including the current one about a guy popping tags at a thrift shop. Whatever that means.
“I’m sick of these damn kids,” Apate says, glowering at a group of noisy teenagers racing by. “I’m sick of this damn park. And I’m really sick of this damn song.”
I nod in agreement. It’s probably time for us to relocate, anyway. “Let’s just go back to your apartment for a few nights.”
“We can’t. That’s the first place Eric would look for me. It’s too risky!”
“Then let’s go stay at one of those hotels we saw on the way here.”
“We could…if we had any money.”
I gape at her. “You’re the one with the job. How do you not have money?”
“Well, I do,” she amends quickly. “It’s just that Eric’s been putting my paychecks into an account with both of our names on it. If I take anything out, he’ll know. And I’m out of cash.”
“Maybe you should have spent more time saving up and less time buying slutty clothes.”
“Hey.” She whacks me in the arm, hard. I wince. “It’s called fashion.”
I roll my eyes, continuing, “I get that you don’t want to run into your old boss. I’m not in any rush to see him again, either. But we can’t hide forever.”
“I know.” Sighing, she slumps against the side of the haunted house. “I don’t want to be on the run for the rest of our lives. Hiding. Living in fear. We had enough of that when we were children.”
Memories of our childhood stir somewhere deep within me, pounding on the walls I’ve built around them like starving prisoners trying to break free. I push back, keeping them buried. “Maybe he won’t look for us there. Maybe he won’t come looking for us at all.” I take her pale, cold hands in mine. “Together, we’re unstoppable. We’re finally free!”
Apate raises her eyebrows, giving a short, doubtful laugh. “I wish. We’ll only be free of him when we’re dead.”
My excitement fizzles as her words sink in. “We could always go home—”
“No.” She pulls her hands out of my grip. “I finally got as far away as possible from that place, and I’m not going back. Besides,” she adds, looking at the ground instead of at me, “I’m not quite ready to leave Shadesburg yet.”
“Me neither,” I admit. Our eyes meet silently for a moment, and Apate nods briefly before looking away again. As twins, we have a deeper mental connection than others of our kind, and I know that, just as I’m trying not to think about Carly, she’s trying not to think about assface.
“Jimmy,” Apate says, reading my mind.
“Assface,” I maintain.
She hits me again, and I grit my teeth as pain shoots through my arm. “Stop calling him that. You haven’t even met him!”
“And until I do and decide he’s not an assface, I’m calling him assface.” I hit her back, wincing as my fist connects with her shoulder. It might as well have been a fly landing on her. She doesn’t even flinch.
“You hit like a girl.” Her leg darts out, and she grinds the fat heel of her black boot into my shin.
“Ow! That hurt!”
Soon, we’re scuffling back and forth, hitting and kicking each other.
“You. Are. So. Imm-a-ture,” Apate pants between blows. “Grow. Up.”
“You started it!” I duck to avoid another swing of her fist. “You—”
“Wait a minute.” My sister’s arms drop to her sides as she squints at something behind me. “That’s Carly!”
“Nice try.” I reach out to pull her hair, but she easily bats my hand down.
“Seriously, Dolos.” She points over my shoulder. “Carly’s over there.”
I turn to look, keeping tabs on Apate out of the corner of my eye. When I see a familiar profile, hidden partially behind a fall of curls, I turn my back completely to my twin. Carly tucks a section of hair behind her ear, face glowing as she smiles up at her companion.
“Looks like she’s on a date,” Apate says, giggling. I glare at her, and she quickly swallows her laughter.
“That’s her old boyfriend,” I say, my fingers curling into fists.
Apate grimaces. “I’m not so sure about the ‘old’ part.”
I take an involuntary step forward, and Apate clamps a hand on my shoulder.
“You know you can’t go over there,” she tells me.
I shake her off. “He failed her when she needed him the most. He hurt her.”
“I’m sure Carly can take care of herself. She doesn’t need you barging over there and defending her honor. Besides, they look…they look like they’re having fun,” she adds quietly.
We watch Carly’s date offer her a stick of what looks like a small pink cloud. Carly disengages a wispy piece and pops it into her mouth. Placing a hand on her lower back, he coaxes her toward one of the game booths. My fists squeeze tighter.
“Nice kitty.” The little girl has returned, her voice breaking the tense silence that has settled over us. She’s still following the cat around, trying to pet it.
“Look who’s back,” I say, welcoming the diversion. I get caught up in their predictable routine for a few moments, watching as the girl shuffles forward, the creature slinking just out of reach. “Just forget about the stupid cat and go!” I know she can’t hear me, but her continued presence so close to our hideout is making me nervous.
Apate simpers, eyes alight with mischief. “I’ll get her to leave.”
“What happened to keeping a low profile?”
“You were right, brother. It’s time for a little fun.” Shedding the layers of illusory shadow wrapped around her, she emerges from the dark a giant, reptilian monster, towering over the little girl. Yellow eyes spring out of their sockets, a red, forked tongue hanging out of its mouth, dripping saliva onto the sidewalk. A glob pelts the girl’s arm, and she screams, tears streaming down her cheeks. Dropping the candy, she turns and runs back toward the park as fast as her stubby legs will carry her.
A moment later, the monster is gone, and Apate is herself again, doubled over with laughter. She stoops to pick up the stick of candy and, discarding the wrapper, takes a small bite out of it.
“Literally stealing candy from a baby.” At the sound of Eric’s voice, a paralyzing fear grips me, working its way through my veins like an icy poison. A shudder runs through Apate, her eyes panicked. “That’s low, even for you.”
“Fuck,” my sister mouths to me. We both become rigid, holding ourselves as still as possible, mouths shut tight.
“Apate,” Eric says impatiently, looking at the exact spot where we’re cowering. “Dolos. Stop the charade. I know you’re here. You didn’t really think you could hide from me, did you?”
Apate shakes her head at me. Don’t say a word, she tells me through her thoughts. We remain silent, unmoving. Eric gives an inconvenienced sigh, reaching into his trench coat and pulling out a vicious-looking dagger, blade flashing silver-white under the carnival lights. Before either of us realize what’s happening, he has the edge of it positioned a hairbreadth away from Apate’s throat.
“Get that thing away from her!” I cry out, regretting it a moment later. I’ve just given us away. Apate sighs, looking defeated, and together we withdraw the illusion concealing us from Eric.
His dark eyes take us in, and he smiles in satisfaction. “That’s better. You two have been very naughty.” He presses the blade further into Apate’s throat. She doesn’t flinch, keeping her chin held high, even as a thin red line blossoms on her pale skin. “I really ought to punish you.”
Apate glares at him. “You really ought to go fuck yourself.” I take a step forward, ready to spring into action before Eric can slit her throat. Instead, he merely laughs, lowering the dagger. Apate sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly, massaging her throat. I go over and wrap an arm around her shoulders, feeling them shake ever so slightly. I scowl at Eric.
“What are you doing here? What the hell do you want from us?” Using my powers, I keep the three of us hidden from the curious stares of passersby. Otherwise, it’s hard to miss Eric, who is about a foot taller and one hundred pounds—all muscle—heavier than me. Putting aside, for a moment, the fact that he imprisoned me in Pandora, I have to admit—with his dark hair and piercing eyes—Eric is a ridiculously good-looking guy.
That’s just the Stockholm syndrome talking, Apate thinks to me. Now’s really not a great time to get a man crush.
It’s not a man crush! I insist. I’ve never heard the term, but I understand the connotation. What’s Stockholm syndrome?
Man crush, man crush, she sings mockingly. Bringing the candy back up to her mouth, Apate gnaws on it nervously.
“I want to play a game,” Eric says, tucking the dagger away. “I know how much you love games, Dolos.”
“Sure,” I admit with a shrug. “But only when I’m the one making the rules.”
“How do we play?” Apate asks, looking at him icily.
“That doesn’t concern you.” He gives her a sinister smile, and I pull her in closer. “You won’t be playing. I made a mistake with you. You’re much too reckless. Unreliable. All I need from you now is to stay out of my way.” There’s an odd, almost eager glint in his eyes as he watches her take another small bite of the candy, chewing it noisily.
Don’t eat that, I tell my sister as Eric continues watching her intently. The candy. Spit it out.
Apate swallows before the warning has a chance to sink in. What? she asks in confusion. Why— The rest of the thought is cut off as a fine, black fuzz sprouts on her fingers, rushing up her hands and arms like an out of control fungus. Shrieking, she pulls away from me, the candy falling from her hand. She watches it clatter to the ground, realization dawning on her face. When her gaze returns to Eric, it’s filled with hatred. “You bastard.”
Those are her last words before she starts to shrink.
“Apate!” I reach for her, watching helplessly as she falls forward onto all fours, a mass of liquid muscle and bone. As some body parts rearrange themselves—her ears flatten into velvety triangles and slide toward the top of her head—new features emerge, like the white whiskers springing from her face. And the long, slender tail unfurling behind her. One change leads into the next, an unstoppable chain reaction, until suddenly my sister’s fierce green eyes peer up at me from an animal’s face, and a black dress and boots lie discarded on the ground. Her necklace is curled on top of the heap, the delicate gold chain broken from the force of the transformation.
Slowly, I look up at Eric, feeling perplexed. “What did you do to her?”
He unceremoniously kicks the discarded candy, making it skid over the pavement. “Just put a little transformation curse on her. My mother’s recipe.”
“Well, change her back.” Hot fury explodes inside of me, propelling me toward him. “Change her back!” I throw my arms forward, shoving him as hard as I can—a move that ends up hurting my hands more than it does Eric, who doesn’t even budge. “Oh. Oh, I get it,” I realize with a short, incredulous laugh. “You won’t change her back unless I do what you say. Unless I play your little game.”
Eric considers this. “I was thinking more along the lines of I’ll never change her back, and you’ll do what I say, anyway.”
“I will never work for you!” I pull my throbbing fists back, ready to launch a second attack.
“Wait a minute,” Eric says, holding up a cautioning hand, “before you hurt yourself again, hear me out.”
I pause, breathing hard, trying to reign in my anger. Fighting Eric isn’t going to solve anything—isn’t going to change Apate back. I cross my arms, working my jaw. “Fine. Speak.”
“I have two jobs for you.” Eric sounds calm and confident even though I haven’t agreed to anything yet. “First, I need you to steal the Guardian Stones.”
“The Guardian Stones,” I repeat nervously. “But those are—”
“The stones that belong to the Gamma Lambda Phis,” he finishes for me. “That open a portal between this world and ours.”
“What do you need them for?” I ask, stalling for time while I figure out a way out of this. “I’m not doing anything unless you tell me what you’re planning.”
“What I’ve been planning from the very beginning. To invade Olympus and overthrow Zeus and the Elder Council. My army is ready. All we need now are the stones.”
I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Apate told me all about your ‘army.’ A handful of college kids can’t take on Zeus.”
Eric glares at me. “They’ve been training. I have faith in their abilities. We have to act now. Hera has incapacitated the Gamma Lambda Phis. Their defenses are down. We may never get an opportunity like this again.”
“I…see.” I shove my hands into my pockets so that Eric can’t tell they’re shaking. “What’s the second thing?”
He takes a few steps closer to me, keeping his voice low and even. “You will do everything in your power to make sure that nothing—that no one—stands in our way. Whatever it takes.”
I shake my head, disgusted. “This isn’t a game—this is war. And I’m not playing.”
“I think you will,” Eric says, the confidence in his tone never wavering.
“Well, then, you don’t know me very well. I’m not endangering Carly or her friends. You’re going to have to find someone else. Good luck with that.” Turning my back to him, I take off into the dark alleyway, flipping up the collar of my jacket against the wind.