The Power (Titan #2)

Home > Young Adult > The Power (Titan #2) > Page 3
The Power (Titan #2) Page 3

by Jennifer L. Armentrout


  “So let’s eat cake before you guys have to do important stuff like train, and I have to go to class and pretend to pay attention,” Deacon said, turning to the cake. Beside it were plates.

  They even got plates.

  Penis balloons. Spider-Man cake. And plastic plates with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY written in multiple colors—colors that matched the Spider-Man cake.

  “Happy birthday, man.” Luke clapped his hand on my shoulder as he walked past me, toward Deacon. Coming up behind him, he circled his arm around the slimmer pure’s waist and leaned down, kissing his neck. “I want an edge piece.”

  Deacon straightened, and with a grin he lifted his icing-covered pinky. Holding Luke’s gaze, he sucked the white icing right off his finger, causing Luke to stiffen . . . in probably a lot of areas.

  Someone was getting way lucky later.

  A soft touch on my arm drew my attention. I looked down and found Josie staring up at me, nibbling on her lower lip. Made me think of me doing the same thing, and that sent a jolt of awareness straight to my cock.

  “Are you okay with this?” she asked, voice low. “I just wanted to . . . you know, celebrate your birthday.”

  I blinked, snapping out of it. Still standing just inside the door, I hadn’t said more than two words. I’d just stood there and stared. Total dick move.

  “I . . . I think it is great. Thank you.” Clearing my throat, I glanced over at the guys and spoke louder. Relief flickered across her face. “Thank you.”

  Luke nodded as he stepped to the side, a slice of cake on a plate in his hand.

  As Deacon got to work slicing up the rest of the cake, I reached around Josie and gently tugged on her ponytail. When she leaned into me, I circled my arm around her and lowered my mouth to her ear. “No one has . . . has ever done this for me.”

  Josie pulled back, her eyes searching mine. “Done what? Celebrate your birthday?”

  I shook my head. “No. This . . . this is a first.”

  The hue of her blue eyes deepened and then she stretched up, kissing my cheek. “It’s the first of many, Sethie. Get used to it.”

  Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead against the side of hers. Damn. I knew three things right then. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve her. And I didn’t have the heart to tell her this birthday would probably be our first and our last.

  Chapter 3

  Josie

  The following day, throughout afternoon training—aka beat-down time—I couldn’t stop thinking about what Seth had said. It had been the same last night. I looked at him, I thought about what he said, and I just wanted to hug him.

  Okay. I wanted to do other more fun things that involved more than hugging him, and we did some of those things—but not that thing. I was starting to become convinced that they’d end up remaking the Harry Potter movies before I got laid.

  Anyway, I couldn’t believe it. No one had celebrated his birthday? Not a single person, even his mother? She was a crappy mom. I’d gotten that from what he’d told me before, but to not even celebrate a birthday?

  I sort of wished the woman was alive so I could kill her. What a terrible person. Or pure-blood. Whatever she had been, she was a crappy, mean person. Even with the issues my own mother had, she’d celebrated my birthday.

  Mom may not have wanted me, but she loved me, and in the end, that was all that mattered.

  Training wasn’t horrible. Not like it had been in the beginning, when I couldn’t even take a hit correctly. Now, I knew how to fall to not only avoid injury, but to quickly get back on my feet. I knew how to block punches and kicks, and had learned to deliver quite a few nasty ones myself.

  I was so close to becoming a badass, killer-ninja demigod.

  “You’ve got to use your dagger like you’re prepared to kill the person you’re stabbing,” Seth said from the sidelines. “Not like you’re wanting to poke them with it.”

  My eyes narrowed as I looked over at him. Okay. So maybe I wasn’t a killer ninja yet. I lifted the Covenant dagger, a very sharp and deadly blade made out of titanium and designed to slice and dice, and tightened my grip on the handle. “I’m not trying to poke the dummy.”

  “You’re poking the dummy,” Luke confirmed.

  I was ganged up on.

  Seth stalked over to the very life-like dummy and jabbed his finger at a shallow cut in what was also very flesh-like skin. Ugh.

  “This wound here,” he said, referencing the cut on the dummy’s chest. “Wouldn’t even kill a mortal.”

  I frowned. “It so would.”

  “It would slow them down, that’s for sure, but it wouldn’t kill them.” Luke flipped the dagger in his hand, catching it easily. Wasn’t he just special. “Wouldn’t even puncture a lung.”

  I was going to have to take his word on that.

  “You know how to use this dagger.” Seth lifted a hand, running it through his hair. “We’ve taught you everything you need. You’ve got the correct hold, the correct positioning. You know where to hit to take your opponent down. There’s no reason for you not to use force behind it.”

  I started to argue, but as I stared at all the cuts on the dummy, I knew he had a point. The chest of the dummy was covered in slices and cuts, most of them, if not all of them, as deep as my finger. Those cuts were from Seth and Luke. All of mine were shallow, nicks in comparison.

  I hated to admit it, but Seth was right. The idea of killing someone on purpose horrified me. I mean, thinking I could do it and wishing I could do it was totally different from actually doing it. But just because something horrified me didn’t mean that when push came to shove I couldn’t do it.

  I would protect myself.

  I would also protect those I loved.

  At least, that was what I kept telling myself.

  Seth glanced over at Luke. “Let’s go ahead and call it a day.”

  “But we still have an hour,” I protested.

  “I know,” he replied, cocking his head to the side. “You and I aren’t done yet.”

  Seeming to get the message, Luke nodded and as he walked past me, he patted my shoulder. “See you guys later.”

  As the door to the training room swung shut behind him, I had a feeling I was in for a lecture.

  Seth arched a brow. “You look like you just sucked on something sour. I’m not going to lecture you.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you sure you can’t read minds and you’re just lying to me?”

  He laughed. “Everything you think or feel is just written on your face.” Reaching over, he took the dagger out of my hand. “I want you to watch me do this.”

  I’d been watching him do this for weeks, but I folded my arms and I watched.

  Seth held my gaze for a moment and then spun around. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. Not like there was for me, because the damn dummy looked so real. He thrust forward on one powerful leg and shoved the dagger deep into the sternum. A kill shot in under two seconds. No pausing. No last-minute weakening of the blow.

  He pulled the dagger out and faced me, his amber gaze serious. “That’s how you do it, and I know you are fully aware of how to deliver a killing blow.”

  “I am.”

  Stepping toward me, he lowered his chin. “But you’re not doing it. You haven’t done it once without being made to do it over and over again, and even then, you eventually do it out of frustration with Luke or me.”

  My lips pursed. I wanted to argue, but once again, he was right. And I hated it when he was right, which was way too often for me.

  “There’s something I need to know, okay?”

  I lifted my chin, grinning slightly. “Yes, you’re a sexy beast.”

  “I know that already,” he said dryly. “But that’s not what I’m asking.”

  I sighed. “Okay.”

  He held my gaze. “Can you do this?”

  “Yes—”

  “I don’t want you to answer the question yet,” he interrupted. “I want you to really
think about it and ask yourself if you can really do this. Not fighting. Not using the elements. Ask yourself if you’re ready to kill someone without a second of hesitation. If you’re ready to deliver a fatal blow before your opponent lands a hit on you. If you’re ready to be the aggressor.”

  Those questions left me cold. I wanted to say that I could do it when I needed to, but truthfully? The dummy swayed slightly in front of me, made of rubber and synthetic flesh. I wasn’t ready to say yes, I could kill something. Well, besides animals with my car, and I still felt horrible about all of that, but on purpose?

  I thought about Hyperion, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I could’ve killed him. Easily. The things he said and did . . . I sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered. I didn’t even need to try to remember the iciness of his breath or the heaviness of his hand.

  Yeah. I could’ve killed him.

  But this? Actively killing people—er, daimons or whatever? It was different. Killing things wasn’t what I was all about. It was who I needed to be to survive. I couldn’t be weak. I had to be stronger than this. Strong like the female Sentinels I saw every day. Strong like I imagined Alex had been. Or was. Still is.

  I opened my eyes. “Alex didn’t have a problem with killing things, did she?”

  Seth blinked and took a step back. Like, a legit step back.

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t meant to ask that out loud, and I didn’t even know where that came from. Okay. I did know where it came from: my mouth, which apparently was connected to that deep, dark subconscious part of me that wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

  “Yeah, um, can I . . . Yeah, I didn’t ask that question.” My face flushed, and I hastily turned away, walking toward where I’d left my hoodie and water.

  I could not believe I’d brought Alex into a conversation like this.

  Seth never talked about Alex.

  For obvious reasons, it was a touchy subject. I understood why. Seth and Alex had a way weird past. Being that both were Apollyons, they were fated to be together, designed in that way. But Alex loved Aiden, and I . . . I wasn’t sure how Seth felt about Alex. Deacon had made it sound like it hadn’t been that serious, but Deacon wasn’t Seth.

  Deacon was Aiden’s younger brother, so maybe he only saw what he wanted to see when it came to Alex and Seth.

  Seth’s past was so intricately twisted with Alex’s, and I knew he’d done a lot to her when he had been working with Ares, and he had come through for her when it was needed most. Hell, he had sacrificed everything for Alex’s happiness. That had to mean something.

  What I did know for sure was what Deacon had been super-excited about the last week or so. Due to some crazy deal with the gods, Alex and Aiden had remained in Tartarus for six months, and that time was almost up.

  Alex and Aiden would be returning soon.

  Bending down, I picked up the hoodie and tugged it on over my head. I grabbed my bottle of water, searching for something to change the subject to. Anything would be good at this point.

  “She didn’t.”

  I stilled, pressing my lips together. Of course she didn’t. According to Deacon, Alex was the baddest of all badasses.

  “She was born and practically raised in this environment except for a period of time. Alex is different than you.”

  My stomach twisted with a bitter burn. Ridiculous, I knew, but the acid coating the insides of my mouth tasted like jealousy. Stupid, unreasonable jealousy.

  “But it wasn’t easy for her, and you do have that in common,” he added after a moment. “I know she didn’t like it and it wore on her. It got to her.”

  Slowly, I turned around, clutching the bottle to my chest.

  He’d moved silently and was only a foot or so away from me. “And before . . . before everything went down, she was talking about not wanting to be a Sentinel anymore. Even though that was what she’d always wanted to be. She was done with it all. The killing and the fighting.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know if there was anything I could say about it, because I could understand that. Who wouldn’t be tired of killing and fighting?

  “It wasn’t easy for her, Josie, but she did it because it was her duty—she did it to protect herself and those she cared about.” Seth reached around and tugged my ponytail out from under my hoodie. He draped it over my shoulder. “It’s not going to be easy for you.”

  I licked my lips. “You don’t think I can do this, do you?”

  His gaze held mine for a moment and then his lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. “One of the things I like about you so much, Josie, is that you are so very mortal despite what and who you are.”

  A tiny flutter spread its wings in my chest. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

  “It is.” Lowering his head, he kissed the corner of my lips. “Come on. Let’s head back and grab some popcorn. We can watch a movie before Deacon shows up and forces us to watch another season of Supernatural.”

  “I love Supernatural.”

  He smirked. “You love Dean Winchester.”

  “Guilty,” I murmured, well aware that Seth was totally avoiding my question, but I didn’t push it. Probably because I already knew his answer, what he believed.

  And boy, that was one hell of a de-motivator.

  I didn’t say anything as Seth placed the dagger on the wall, hooking it into place among the other deadly, shiny weapons. We headed out into the main hall, past several students who were walking into one of the other training rooms. I had no idea if they were halfs or pures, but they were dressed like I was. They were Sentinels in training.

  I bet they had no problem with killing things.

  The afternoon sun warmed the air, but it still wasn’t like the temps in Missouri or Virginia in May. I doubted it ever got really hot here, and it was downright chilly under the shady overhang of the training facility.

  Walking next to Seth, I did my best to ignore the looks sent in our direction. Most people here still thought I was a mortal. For some reason, they couldn’t sense me like they could with each other. I imagined it was something Apollo had done or maybe it was because I was a demigod. Not like Apollo was around to tell me. Either way, everyone stared at Seth. Everyone. All the time.

  It was annoying.

  I glanced over at him. The smirk was still on his lips. Yeah, he so knew everyone was staring. Instead of focusing on that, I thought about what we’d talked about the night before. Lately, Seth had this habit of asking me weird hypothetical questions. What would I be doing if Apollo weren’t my father? Easy answer. I’d still be in Radford studying psychology. He’d asked where I would go if I didn’t have to be here, like where I would visit. That took a little to answer, because I really wanted to think about it. I’d eventually ended up settling on Scotland, because I was fascinated with the history of the country. Each time I attempted to ask him the same questions, I ended up falling asleep before I could, or we’d end up being interrupted.

  “Got a question for you,” I said.

  “Probably got an answer for you.”

  I smiled. “So, if you go could anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

  He raised his brows at me. “Seriously?”

  “Yes.” I laughed. “You know I’d go to Scotland—”

  “I know it took you nearly fifteen minutes to answer that question.”

  “Shut up and answer my question.”

  “Not sure how I can do both of those things.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seth.”

  He smirked that sexy, infuriating smirk. “I think I would go . . . home to the Cyclades Islands—to Andros. I haven’t been there since I left.” He paused. “I wonder if anyone is really even there anymore. Not a lot of people lived there when I was there. It wasn’t a very populated island.”

  If he’d told me he was secretly a huge fan of One Direction, I wouldn’t have been more surprised by his answer. Based on how harsh his childhood was, I couldn’t imagine him wanting to go b
ack there. “Why there?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want to see it. Kind of hard to explain.”

  I thought about it for a moment and wondered if it had to do with laying to rest the demons of his past. “Would you want—?”

  A shout of surprise cut me off, loud and harsh. As my heart stuttered a beat, a horrific cracking sound tore through the quad, a snapping that echoed through the marble statues. A scream, high-pitched and reedy, followed. Then another. I spun around at the same time Seth stepped in front of me, shielding me from whatever was happening.

  But it was too late.

  I saw it.

  “Fucking gods,” Seth muttered.

  Horrified, I smacked my hand over my mouth and stumbled a step back, blinking. I thought I was hallucinating what I was seeing, but I wasn’t. It was real.

  A body hung in the air, right in front of the training facility, where Seth and I had just walked out. The denim-covered legs hung straight as they swayed back and forth. A chain of some sort was right around the neck that was bent at an unnatural angle.

  Someone had hanged himself.

  Oh my God, no. My gaze zeroed in on the chest. No. Someone hadn’t hanged himself. He’d been hanged.

  On his chest was a piece of paper—a piece of notebook paper stabbed into the chest with some kind of knife. The words were easy to read, even with the red drenching the stomach, and hard to forget.

  NO FREE HALFS.

  Chapter 4

  Asmall crowd gathered quickly, their faces a blur. Nausea twisted up my insides and I had to look away. The body—the person—he couldn’t have been any older than me, maybe younger. There was no forgetting his face. The slack jaw. The ghastly pallor. The open, unseeing blue eyes.

  “This is so wrong,” a girl said, her voice trembling. “This is so messed up.”

  Another girl spoke up. “Oh my gods, that’s Brandon.” She pushed through the cluster of people. Tears filled her eyes. “Someone get him down. Please.” She twisted at the waist, toward some guy in the crowd. “Why isn’t anyone getting him down?”

  But Seth was already moving.

 

‹ Prev