The Return (Titan 1)

She nodded again, and after a few seconds, she spoke. “I can carry some of the bags.”

“I got them.” Picking up my bag, I turned toward the gaping gate. “Stick close to me.”

Josie listened as we made our way across the marble walkway near the wall. In the dim light, I wondered if she could see the etchings in the stone—the glyphs and drawings of the ancient gods, or see the very same things carved into the inner walls.

As we passed under the archway, under the scrutiny of Sentinels who seemed to be repopulating faster than we could walk, I heard her ragged exhale. “Holy good Lord,” she whispered as she looked around, getting her first good look at one of our Covenants.

It had to be something pretty amazing to see for the first time.

The campus was a sprawling monstrosity of everything Greek, spreading between two mountain peaks. From the marble and sandstone walkways and benches, to the elegant, hand-chiseled statues, to the columned buildings, it was like ancient Greece had thrown up all over the valley.

Courtyards filled with every flower known to the mortal world surrounded us—flowers that shouldn’t grow in South Dakota, but did inside the Covenant walls due to some crazy godly reason— casting a balmy scent that clung to my skin.

Her mouth was open as we rounded a bend and the high walls of the Courtyards tapered off. She was staring at the statues.

“There used to be twelve of them there,” I told her, gazing up at the marble likenesses of the core Olympians. “Looks like they tore down Ares’s statue. Can’t really blame them.”

They were big, well over ten feet, and each probably weighed a ton. They lined the walkway. And then there were the stone Muses, guarding the entrance to each academic building we passed. Dorms rose in the background like skyscrapers, lights glittering from windows, and I knew from memory that below them were the training facilities and community buildings that were full of every modern convenience one could come up with.

“How in the world do people not know this is here?” she asked, looking everywhere all at once.

“Planes don’t fly over the area. Never have. And those who have seen it think it’s some rich private college with really exclusive admission criteria.” I shifted the strap on my shoulder. “Mortals see what they want to see. Never what’s really there.”

She looked at me sharply, but didn’t say anything.

In the circular structure up ahead, busts of the Olympian Twelve, including Ares, were carved into the sandstone pillars. When I glanced at Josie, her expression was floored, the surprise of someone unexpectedly transported to Greece. A small smile pulled at my lips. The building where the Council met did look like a Grecian amphitheater.

As we climbed the wide steps of the main building, she glanced around, spying the Sentinels who were not so covertly following us. A frown appeared as she looked at me. “You said this is a college, right? Where are all the students?”

“Good question. When we showed up, they probably had them all confined to their dorms.”

Her steps faltered. “Why?”

“They’ve been through a lot, Josie. They don’t trust anyone.”

She seemed to mull that over as we passed the statue of Themis. The scales she held were balanced. Before we reached the titanium double doors, they opened for us, spilling bright light out onto the veranda, and Josie drew up short, gasping.

Out of instinct, I moved closer to her, attaching myself to her hip since I couldn’t put her behind me when we had a shit ton of Sentinels breathing down our necks, and a shit ton standing in front of us, forming a loose line that prevented our entrance.

Every muscle in my body tensed as energy coiled tight inside me, ready to be unleashed if they made one wrong step toward us. “All of you are here to welcome us?” I drawled slowly. “I’m honored.”

None of the Sentinels replied. Nope. They were too restrained for that shit, and as my gaze flickered over them, I noted all of them were halfs and none of them looked like they were about to roll out the red carpet.

Josie shivered.

That pissed me off.

Anyone could take one look at the girl and know she was a hairsbreadth away from falling on her face. This shit wasn’t necessary.

But the wall of Sentinels parted as a tall pure strode between them, and it was the guy I was looking for. Looks could be deceiving when it came to this pure. He was Rambo in pressed khakis and could kick ass with the best of them. His dark-brown hair was styled back from his face, and while there were more lines around his startling green eyes and his mouth than I remembered, he looked as cool and calm as I recalled.

The only time I’d ever seen Marcus Andros lose his shit was when Apollo had told him that his niece had…that she had suffered a mortal death.

I’d been there. Chaos had reigned supreme. The Covenant in the Catskills had been burning to the ground, and in the glow of the unnatural fire, Marcus had punched me.

It had been the last time I’d seen him.

Behind him, I saw a familiar face. A Sentinel stood just off from the rest, his thick brown hair pulled back from a face only his mother could love, with a jagged scar cutting from one eye to the corner of his lips.

Solos Manolis.

I wasn’t surprised to see him here. From what I’d gathered, the main Council had been moved to the University since the Catskills had to be rebuilt. He wasn’t a bad dude—actually pretty legit. But he was part of a group that I wanted nothing to do with— the group that I knew was here. His father was also a pure, a well-respected one who had lobbied on behalf of the half-bloods for years. Solos had taken a seat on the Council—the very first half-blood to ever do so, taking the place of saint Aiden St. Delphi, who’d given up the prestigious spot.

Marcus’s cool gaze flickered from me to Josie, stayed there a moment, and then settled back on me. “Seth, this is… unexpected.”

“I know,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “We need to talk.”

The Dean of the Covenant stared at me for a moment and then he glanced at Josie. A long moment passed. “Yes. We do.”

Chapter 17

WITH WIDE unblinking eyes, I watched the elegant-looking man who was almost as tall as Seth pivot around on the heel of a polished loafer. “Follow me,” he ordered.

And he didn’t wait for us. Nodding to the man with a scar on his face, he kept walking, thankfully bypassing a huge spiral staircase I knew I would never be able to climb, since right now I felt like lying down in a fetal position and not moving for a month.