Innovation's Muse (Truth's Harem)

by Allyson Lindt

Half an hour ago, Lexi wanted to drink enough to get a buzz and have her thoughts blurred until she couldn’t focus on anything specific. The news conference from undead tech-guy took care of that.

  Coffee sounded good.

  The group headed down a set of stairs and stopped in front of a basic, non-threatening wooden door. Icarus gripped the knob and pushed it open.

  As they stepped into the room, Lexi’s stomach dropped into her shoes. Not because the space stretched out farther than the eye could see—it was vastly bigger than the building above them—but because she’d been here before. In her dream.

  “This isn’t on earth.” Cerberus’ comment kept her grounded.

  Icarus grinned. “Nope. It’s the other side of the veil. Same concept as the labyrinth was. It makes the whole if I imagine it, it comes to life thing work a lot better.”

  “And the infinite space probably doesn’t hurt either,” Actaeon said.

  How did her subconscious recreate this spot so perfectly? Was she picking up part of Cassandra’s gift? As an oracle, would she start seeing the future, along with recognizing the truth of the present? Would it drive her insane?

  No. She was overreacting.

  She forced herself to ignore the eerie feeling of déjà vu. “You have a Tardis?”

  Icarus chuckled and glanced at Cerberus. “I see why you love this woman.”

  “The geek references are just a hint of the why, but they don’t hurt,” Cerberus replied.

  Icarus led them further into the room. “I think best down here. You came to me, so I assume you don’t have solutions. Let’s brainstorm.”

  He grabbed a remote control from a nearby desk.

  The action drew Lexi’s gaze to a screwdriver that sat a few feet away. The same design as in her dream from here, identical to the one she’d created in the bar.

  No wonder Icarus had been stunned by her trick.

  Icarus turned on the TV. “As our story develops,” he said in a booming, announcer-like voice.

  The goofiness would have made her grin if her mind wasn’t struggling to process so much.

  “Tell me again why we can’t just kill Hades?” Icarus asked.

  If Zeus was telling the truth, wouldn’t it be public knowledge?

  “You saw the fight in Las Vegas?” Actaeon asked. “That was Heracles and me at full strength.”

  “That was you holding back, because of Prometheus, and Hades at full strength.”

  Actaeon narrowed his eyes. “Sure, I may have pulled my punches, but what I sent at Hades was all I had.”

  Lexi remembered how drained Actaeon was after that. She didn’t doubt he’d given it his all. “Could we cut Hades off from his power, even temporarily? He did that to me. Cassandra did it to Cerberus.”

  “We might be able to, except...” Icarus looked at her, frowning.

  “Except Hades can’t be killed. Zeus told you that.” Cerberus’ tone was hard to read.

  Or she didn’t want to admit she heard a hint of despair in there. “Zeus was lying about something.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Actaeon murmured and pointed at the TV.

  Sure enough, Zeus was making his way across a marbled floor, toward a podium with rows of reporters and cameras pointing at it.

  He stood in front of the room, not saying anything until the chatter died down. He had presence, so it only took a few seconds.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” His voice boomed over the room. There were several mics in front of him, but he didn’t need them. “I know there are a lot of questions after this afternoon’s press conference from Steve Jobs.”

  He paused, and Lexi swore she felt it through the TV.

  “I will not be doubted.” Zeus’ shout caused the broadcasting camera to shake, and people jumped in their chairs.

  Lexi’s heart leaped into her throat, and beside her, Cerberus tensed. The shift in ethereal pressure in Icarus’ room said he wasn’t the only one.

  “Now, then.” Zeus gave the cameras a flat smile. “It’s fantastic that Hades is bringing back loved ones, but I can stop them from being gone in the first place. In fact, effective immediately, all Solstice sacrifices will cease.

  “In addition, for those who are dying or recently deceased, they or their loved ones may petition us. We wish we could heal everyone, but there are instances where it’s just a person’s time. Hades is violating that simple directive—”

  Icarus laughed. “Love how he spins this.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

  Lexi couldn’t agree more.

  Zeus continued. “—more you believe in us, the better we’ll be able to help you. More faith, more prayer, and more tributes will ensure that more of you never have to lose loved ones.”

  Mute flashed on the screen, and Lexi looked up to see Actaeon holding the remote.

  “Glad to see he's using the moment to his advantage.” Actaeon's voice was bitter.

  Icarus opened his mouth.

  A loud boom filled the air and shook the ground, almost knocking Lexi off balance.

  Icarus sprinted toward the door. “Something’s wrong outside. That sounded like an explosion.”

  Lexi, Actaeon, and Cerberus ran after him.

  They reached the main street, and Icarus stopped short. “No.” Shock and grief filled the single word.

  Across the street, smoke spilled from a four-story building, and flames licked at the windows.

  Every negative emotion ever created surged inside Lexi. She swallowed it. “We have to make sure people can get out.”

  Icarus nodded.

  Lexi braced herself for an argument from Cerberus about her own safety. He hesitated for the briefest second, studying her. “You’re right. We do.”

  They raced to the building and inside, trying to stay out of the way of anyone evacuating. Lexi coughed as thick, black smoke filled her lungs. This just happened, how was it already raging out of control?

  Heat singed her skin. Terror filled her on behalf of anyone still stuck upstairs. They had to get these people out before someone was hurt or killed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Actaeon had hoped for something to distract him from what was happening between Lexi and Icarus. A burning apartment building wasn’t what he had in mind. Could he take the wish back?

  The smoke billowing from the building grew thicker as they stepped through the front doors. “Four floors, four of us. Everyone take a floor,” Actaeon barked. “How many units?”

  “Sixteen total.” Icarus shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  Actaeon understood the impatience. “Lexi, One. Icarus, Two. Cerberus, Three. I’ll take the top. Sweep every apartment—closets, showers, anything with a door or that looks like a hiding space.”

  Lexi sprinted down the hall, and the rest of them up the stairs.

  As Actaeon neared the top landing, the building rumbled and shook, and the floor swayed beneath his feet.

  Concern and urgency swelled inside. It had only been a few minutes since the explosion. How had the damage spread so quickly? Heat assaulted him until sweat spilled from his pores. If it were regular flame, it probably wouldn’t do permanent damage. But this felt otherworldly.

  He reached the first door and kicked it open without hesitation. He couldn’t linger too long in any place. It was critical he ensure each spot was clear, though.

  “Hello?” he called. “I can help you get out of here.”

  There was no answer. That didn’t stop him from searching. He checked under the bed, in the pantry, every place that looked big enough for a small person to hide in.

  The children’s toys littering the floor of one bedroom made him doubly grateful he didn’t find anyone.

  He raced into the hallway and to the next unit. Flames climbed the walls and crept in toward the middle of the floor.

  A concussive force rocked the structure, and he wobbled on his feet as the second explosion threatened to bring the building crashing down. The sound of snapping beams followed, a
nd the floor creaked under his feet.

  Lexi. She would never forgive him if he went to check on her instead of finishing here. The next apartment door was open, and a quick but thorough check said the place was empty.

  A wall of fire blocked him from Apartment Three. He sucked in as deep a breath as was possible, given the situation, and ran through it.

  Pieces of his clothing burned away, and his skin sizzled.

  He’d heal.

  It was nearly impossible to see now. Actaeon ran crouched low to the floor.

  He was almost ready to move on, when a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A man—a boy?—lying on the ground, struggling to crawl.

  Actaeon knelt next to him. “Hey. Are you hurt?”

  “Not badly.” The boy’s voice was rough. He was probably only sixteen or seventeen.

  Actaeon helped him stand and hooked the boy’s arm around his neck. “We have to go through fire. I’ll keep you as safe as I can.”

  He half-ran with, half-carried the teenager to the end of the hallway, and paused at the top of the stairs. So far, they were clear. “Can you walk on your own?” Actaeon asked.

  The boy nodded.

  “Good. Run all the way down. Don’t look back. Get outside.”

  Actaeon confirmed the boy was truly walking on his own, then raced to the last apartment.

  The wall of fire tore away more of his clothing, and though his burns were healing quickly, it didn’t keep him from feeling the mounting damage.

  The final unit was unoccupied. Not even furniture or a shower curtain graced the inside. Thank creation.

  Actaeon sprinted back to the stairs and down. He reached the top of the last landing and saw Lexi at the bottom, watching, worry heavy in her eyes. She let out a half-smile and shouted when she saw him.

  He couldn’t hear it over the screams and sirens, but he inferred something about hurrying.

  He was a few steps down, when the building swayed again. The splintering of wood mingled with the auditory chaos. Time slowed to a crawl. Literally.

  He struggled to maintain his footing, with the stairway threatening to give out beneath him. The ceiling above Lexi exploded in a shower of flame and plummeted toward her.

  There was no way he’d make it to her in time. Even if he jumped, he couldn't knock her aside far enough.

  “Lexi.” His voice wouldn’t carry in this noise. A fear like he’d never known swelled inside.

  She looked up, and her eyes grew wide.

  Flaming debris showered around her, crumbling in sparks, and falling everywhere but where she stood.

  When the cave-in settled, she stood in the middle of scorched debris, surrounded by a meter-or-so-wide circle of nothing but clear floor.

  A creature landed in front of her, shaking the floor. The chimera had a lion’s head, a goat’s body, and a snake’s tail, and was opening her mouth.

  Actaeon charged in, tackling the beast. The impact snapped her jaw shut, stopping the flame that shot from her mouth.

  They crashed through the apartment building doorway, splintering the frame and landing on the street. Screams filled the air, and a wide berth grew around them as the crowd backed up.

  The onlookers didn’t disburse, though. Irritation raked through Actaeon, mingling with adrenaline. Could he contain this and keep anyone from getting hurt?

  And why the fuck was a chimera here?

  Cerberus in hellhound form joined him. Actaeon had only fought with him once, against an illusion of Heracles, and the struggle was more like Heracles kicking their asses.

  But Actaeon and Cerberus had found that rhythm once—the pace needed to help rather than get in each other’s way—they could do it again.

  The chimera was at least twice the size of hellhound-Cerberus. She swung her tail. Actaeon ducked, and she swiped his legs with her paw, throwing him off-balance and into Cerberus.

  The chimera seized the opening to pounce at Lexi, who stood in the apartment doorway, watching.

  Icarus screamed, “Move.”

  Cerberus lunged, grabbing three of the chimera’s legs in his jaws. The pair tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs.

  Actaeon gritted his teeth as he watched the beasts struggle. He couldn’t use his bow. The risk of hitting Cerberus was too high. He’d need to go hand-to-hand, but with the snapping jaws and whipping tails, that looked even more dangerous.

  He needed Cerberus out of the way.

  The hellhound had agility, but the chimera had mass. Neither held the upper hand for long.

  Actaeon didn’t like this. He was a fighter. A hunter. It was what he did. When he came on obstacles like this, he took his shot, and whoever got in the way had to deal with it.

  He wasn’t used to caring if he caused collateral damage to a brawling partner. Most of them could handle it. Cerberus may not survive an arrow of moonlight to the knee.

  “What do you need?” Lexi’s question startled him. She had moved to stand next to him.

  Nothing she could offer. He wasn’t being rude—that was reality. “I need Cerberus to either move the fuck out of the way, or pin her down for about ten seconds.” Long enough for Actaeon to draw his bow and aim. “Preferably with the chimera’s chest exposed.”

  “Done,” Lexi said. “He says don’t miss. He probably can’t do this more than once.”

  Their servant’s bond let her ask. Fucking brilliant. Lexi moved out of the way.

  Actaeon watched Cerberus tangle with the chimera, his fingers twitching to draw his bow.

  The chimera landed on her back. Cerberus clamped a jaw around her throat, and pinned her. His body covered hers, but with the size difference, there was an opening.

  If Cerberus moved while Actaeon was shooting though...

  “Now,” Lexi shouted.

  Actaeon fired. He hit the chimera, but not in the heart. She bucked Cerberus off, and charged at Lexi.

  Actaeon jumped between them, dagger in hand. He drove the blade up through the chimera’s ribs.

  Cerberus darted behind them, knocking Lexi aside. Actaeon didn’t have to look to know Lexi was shielded. He drove the knife deeper.

  The chimera erupted in a white-hot ball of flame that lasted a heartbeat before burning out and vanishing.

  He should be heavily burned, but didn’t have any more damage than before the chimera attacked. What the fuck?

  UNSPENT ADRENALINE raced through Lexi’s veins, telling her the fight wasn’t over. To do something. She didn’t know why she wasn’t a charred husk after the chimera exploded, but it was one thing out of this whole event to be grateful for.

  Cerberus was human again. He helped her stand, concern flowing from him.

  “I’m all right. I promise,” she sent him.

  “Good. Everyone else is, too.”

  She smiled at the nudge of comfort.

  Actaeon watched Lexi with concern. She felt lost and... useless. She hugged herself and let her gaze travel over the crowd. People had their phones out and were recording everything.

  They were going to be internet stars. Epic.

  Actaeon wrapped an arm around her waist. “We should make sure everyone is all right.” He steered her toward Icarus.

  He stood near an ambulance, talking to two women, one a couple decades older than the other, both sobbing. They were next to a man on a stretcher who wore a breathing mask.

  Snippets of conversation drifted toward them.

  “...surprised he’s still alive...”

  “...burns like that, he should be gone...”

  The two paramedics moved out of earshot.

  Actaeon and Lexi joined Icarus, who stepped back a little from the people he was with. “They’re surprised he’s still alive, especially for someone who wants to let go.”

  “You know them?” Lexi asked. How was everyone acting so calm, as if a giant, fire-breathing monster hadn’t just attacked them?

  Icarus raised his eyebrows. “I know pretty much everyone in the n
eighborhood. I’ve been here a long time.”

  “That sounds so strange. But amazing,” Lexi said softly. Her attention kept drifting back to the three by the ambulance. What would that be like?

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She was struck by the sincerity mixed with worry in his voice.

  Icarus nodded at the man on the stretcher. “He summoned the chimera. His wife said he kept going on about seeing his daughter.”

  “The younger woman?” Actaeon asked.

  “No. Her sister died several years ago. He was heartbroken. She was his baby girl.” Pain filled Icarus’ voice. “His wife says he’s been seeing the girl for a few weeks. That he insisted his daughter wanted them to join her in the afterlife...” He trailed off with a frown.

  Lexi had a feeling there was more to it than that. “What’s wrong? Besides the obvious.”

  He shook his head. “Déjà vu. Anyway, he waited until most everyone was on their way back from the funeral, then summoned the chimera and asked her to destroy the building and everyone inside. He was going to take as many of them as he could with him, so they’d all be happier.” Icarus’ voice wavered. He scrubbed his face. “That’s why it all went up so fast.”

  “You. It’s you.”

  The shouting made Lexi’s calming pulse kick up again, and she whirled.

  “You’re the reason this is happening.” The injured man sat upright on the stretcher, struggling against the paramedic trying to get him to lie down. He pointed at Lexi as he shouted. “Hades wants your head. You will be destroyed.”

  The venom in the words drilled deep, and she struggled for a response to the screaming. What was she supposed to say to that?

  The paramedics forced him prone and strapped him down, but his shouts continued after they shut the ambulance doors.

  Phones were turned in her direction now, and a ripple of, “Is it really her? It is,” ran through the crowd.

  Everyone pointed at her, and fear surged inside. Not for herself, but for what would happen to the onlookers if this got out of hand.

  Cerberus was by her side, though she didn’t register how he got there. “Come on. Let’s call it a day.” He took her hand.

  “If you go back to my shop, it will let you in. I’ll join you as soon as I’ve made sure people are safe.” Icarus pointed them toward his building.