“Funny, but waking up to someone trying to kill you doesn’t exactly translate to safe.” She rests her head against my shoulder. “I still don’t like you. I think.”
“I don’t really like you, either. Much.”
She exhales slowly. “I don’t know why you’re in my room right now, but thank you for being here. I…” A little shake rocks her body. “Just…thank you.”
The door opens and Bellerophon walks back inside. They don’t comment on my holding Helen, which is just as well. I don’t know what I’d say in response. Instead, they assume an at-ease posture. “We’re still not sure how they got in, but we should have answers by morning.”
Another little shake from Helen. “Forgive me if that’s not comforting.”
If they don’t know how this person got in, there’s nothing to stop others from doing the same. The thought leaves me cold. I might not like Helen—much—but I don’t want her dead. “You’ll stay in my room.”
She tenses. “That’s not necessary.”
“Yeah, I kind of think it is.” I nod at Bellerophon, who’s watching us with a carefully blank look on their face. “They’re going to be occupied dealing with this and patrolling. Plus, I think you’d rather have me as a babysitter than some stranger.”
“You’re barely more than a stranger.” But she makes no move to get up. As much as I want to press, I’ve learned at least a little patience from being around Patroclus for so many years. Sometimes, the best way to win an argument is to sit down and shut up and let them see that you’re being logical. I’m rarely the logical one, but it’s been known to happen once in a blue moon. I know I’m right this time.
It takes Helen roughly thirty seconds to realize the same thing. “Fine. I’m willing to stay in your room.”
The breath I release isn’t in relief. It’s really not. I sure as fuck wouldn’t be losing sleep worrying about her if she hadn’t agreed to this. I give her one last squeeze and set her on her feet. “Get your shit, princess. Time to switch rooms.”
14
Patroclus
I’m still at war with myself when someone knocks on my door. I recognize Achilles’s brisk impatience and bite back a sigh. I hate fighting at much as he does, but I can’t just turn off my feelings because they’re inconvenient. Obviously I don’t want to be this twisted up when we need to be focused, but nothing about this situation with Helen is logical. Not my attraction to her. Not Achilles’s attraction to her. Not either of our jealousy.
I don’t understand it. I doubt I’ll get the opportunity to even try now.
I open the door and stop short. Achilles, quite frankly, looks like shit. It’s more than the exhaustion on his face. He looks like he just came to my room after being in a brawl. His shirt is torn, his hair is askew, and I’m nearly certain someone punched him in the face.
Dear gods, don’t tell me he slept with Helen again.
I swallow hard, tasting bile and jealousy. “What happened to you?”
He blinks. “What?”
“You look…” I stop myself before I accuse him. It’s not fair to jump to conclusions, even if logically it’s impossible to divorce him showing up at my door looking like this from the last time he did, from what he confessed immediately upon my letting him into my room. I finally try for a neutral enough question. “Who punched you?”
“Who punched…” He touches the spot and winces. “I forgot they landed a strike. Sloppy of me.”
My stomach drops. This isn’t a confession. This is something else. I straighten. He only left my room an hour or two ago. What trouble could he have possibly gotten up to in that time? Obviously more than I could have anticipated. He wasn’t brawling with the other champions; he’s too focused on Ares to get baited into a fight, and even if he did, he would already have been dragged from the dorms. He wasn’t with Helen, or he would still have that kicked-puppy guilty look on his face. “Achilles, what the fuck is going on?”
“Someone tried to kill Helen.”
“What?”
“I was going to her room to apologize and caught them about to attack her. Bellerophon is getting answers.”
Shock lances me. The words don’t make any sense. Someone tried to kill Helen? And Achilles was there and… I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and force myself to focus. “Did you recognize them?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “White guy, the sort of looks that are instantly forgettable. But they weren’t one of Athena’s, and they weren’t on any list we have of problems.”
Athena keeps an ongoing list of people who are considered dangerous in Olympus. Not the normal kind of danger that the Thirteen or the powerful families can bring. Her list is filled with people who are either loose cannons or willing to cross all sorts of lines with the right amount of money involved. If I’d had to take bets about the attacker’s identity, it would be on that list.