average human’s Reviews > Bonds of Hercules > Status Update

Usually, my migraines came with waves of numbness, but every bone in my body ached. Moaning with pain, disoriented and woozy, I bounced off walls.
A chattering noise broke through the anguish.
Something tugged at my pant leg.
I staggered to a stop and squinted down.
In the green haze, Poco tilted his black-and-gray face up like he was trying to tell me something.
He held up a little black hand, paw open expectantly.
“I don’t have any treats,” I croaked.
Poco bared his sharp teeth and shook his head. Then he held his black paw up higher, like he was waiting for something.
“No treats.” I grabbed my head.
He chittered louder, our bond heating with anxiety. Poco clasped his tiny hands together, then held one up to me.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Tentatively, I bent over and gave him my pointer finger.
Poco clutched it, his miniature hand unable to wrap fully around it.
Gently Poco tugged me forward, balancing against me as he led the way on two fluffy legs.
Moisture blurred my vision.
“Thank you.”
He chittered back.
Warmth flooded the bond between us.
No one understood why I bonded with a raccoon and not one of the class six beasts that lived in the back of the menagerie.
There were hundreds of different species in Sparta, but only a handful fell on the beast scale: class one to seven, with seven being the highest and most dangerous.
Class seven beasts were virtually extinct. Spartans were mandated to kill them on sight.
Titans and Typhons were the two most recent creatures to be labeled as class seven.
Most Chthonics bonded with class five or six creatures in the menagerie: Nemean land mammals, the violent winged Pegasuses, the three-headed dog cousins of Cerberus, or the invisible dragons that nested in the secret caves.
None of those animals were of any interest to me.
It was the little guy hanging from a tree, who held out his arms for a hug with a bashful smile on his face, that did it for me.
Poco wasn’t ranked, but I didn’t care.
He was perfect how he was.
Now Poco looked up at me with worry as he slowly guided me down the halls. His little black fingers squeezed mine tightly, as if he was worried he’d lose me.
Raccoons were fierce, intelligent, loyal creatures.
After a lifetime of Ares coldly lecturing me on power and honor, animals growling and running away, and Chthonics reminding me of my responsibilities, it was wonderful to have a true companion.
Poco didn’t care that I was the eldest Chthonic heir.
Strangely, he was one of the few animals I’d ever met that wasn’t afraid of me.
He just wanted to cuddle and play with my hair.
Years ago, when it all got burned off from Colchian dragon fire, Poco had cried and refused to leave my bed for a week as he scratched at my skull, in what I’m pretty sure was Earth’s first case of raccoon depression.
I’d grown my hair out ever since; I kept it long for him.
He was everything to me.
I’d slaughter anyone who dared try to hurt him.
Poco chirped and tugged at my hand.
I staggered to a stop in front of a familiar metal door with a dagger carved into it. Before I could reach for the handle, the hall once again plunged into darkness.
Silence descended.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled.
When the generator surged it usually made noises, but there were none.
Poco let out a nervous screech.
Sirens erupted. “Emergency … Emergency … Emergency.” A monotone voice crackled over the hall speakers as it repeated the warning.
Piercing pain stabbed my skull. I doubled over at the onslaught.
Poco climbed up my body, his fur pressed against the back of my head as he hugged me from behind—I blinked with confusion.
It took me a second.
Poco was covering both of my ears with his little hands and trying to protect me from the piercing sounds.
The generator whirred and the overhead lights turned back on, but they weren’t green.
They were neon red.
Vibrant crimson lights flashed as the sirens continued to blare.
With Poco still covering my ears, I shoved my shoulder into the heavy metal door and staggered straight into a body.
“Did you see her?” Kharon asked frantically as he steadied me. “Is she okay? What happened? Did the leaders catch you? Why’s the emergency system going off?”
“No,” I whispered as I pushed him away.
Kharon followed me. “No—to what?” he asked. His hellhounds watched us from the corner, their bony bodies flickering into existence, then disappearing.
Kharon’s powers were also getting stronger because of our marriage bond.
“You’re bad for Alexis,” Patro taunted. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “All you two do is hurt her.”
Kharon turned to him with a growl; Patro met his anger with a smirk.
I threw myself headfirst onto the worn couch and groaned with misery.
In my peripheral vision, Drex sat on the other side with wide eyes. An ugly bird flew above his head in small circles.
Poco repositioned himself into a fuzzy lump on my chest.
“Did you see Hermos?” Agatha asked as she stood up from where she was sitting on the floor. She stalked across the room and got in my face.
Poco hissed and tried to bite her.
She jumped back out of his reach.
“Hermos is in a … coma,” I croaked, fighting through nausea. “Head all wrapped.”
“Screw you,” Agatha said as she whirled around and pointed a finger accusingly at Kharon. “You just had to fucking shoot him.”
“He’s lucky he’s still alive,” he said dismissively.
Agatha snarled.
Kharon pushed past her. “How is Alexis? Is she … okay?” he asked me softly.
I shook my head no.
“Of course she’s not okay,” Patro sneered from where he was still leaning against the far wall. “She’s married to you.”
Grunts echoed as Kharon threw himself at Patro and they wrestled.
Tiny black fingers covered my ears.
At the end of the couch, Drex muttered what sounded like a prayer to Jesus? He’s not going to help you here. This is Sparta.
Poco forgot what he was doing and started playing with my earlobe. He stuck a tiny finger deep into my ear.
Crack.
I peeked open my eyes.
Achilles materialized in the middle of the room in a cloud of smoke, with Poppae and Nero crouched at his feet.
Kharon and Patro had pulled apart, both looking guilty, like they were trying to hide the fact that they were fighting from Achilles.
Achilles signed something rapidly to Patro and handed him a scroll.
As Patro read it, Achilles threw himself down on the couch beside me, rubbing at his temples like he was exhausted.
An unlit cigarette hung between the grates of his muzzle.
Drex whimpered with fear on the other side of the couch, and we rolled our eyes, sharing a long-suffering look—this new Olympian boy isn’t going to last a week in the Assembly of Death.
I stiffened.
“Stay away from Alexis,” I whispered. As my half brother who also grew up in the House of Ares, I’d always considered him my closest family next to Helen.
Red eyes flashed as Achilles arched a brow mockingly.
I reached for my gun holster.
He mimicked the gesture.
He’s not family anymore.
Poco hissed at Achilles, then he pointed his tiny finger and mimed shooting at him. Kharon had spent the last months teaching him the gesture.
Nero prowled over to the couch with a low growl.
I glanced at the wolf.
It tucked its tail and slunk away.
“EVERYONE!” Patro shouted as he waved a yellow scroll through the neon-red air. “Medusa … escaped from the Underworld.” His voice shook like he’d seen a ghost. “She murdered two Olympians—two immortals.”
The sirens seemed to wail louder.
Patro flipped it around for all to see.
The entire page was a picture of Medusa. Pale and small-boned, her eyes looked much too large for her head. Covered in blood and dirt, she stared blankly from behind prison bars.
Patro read the headline, “Manhunt mobilized because monstrous Medusa is rampaging again, two Olympians dead: Is she now coming for the Chthonics who locked her up?”
I rolled my eyes.
Agatha laughed.
“Why aren’t you panicking? What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Patro pointed the scroll at me accusingly. “Now the disgusting Gorgon is going to come after all of us … She should have just fucking died. Snake scum.”
Agatha stepped forward. “Do you have a problem with Gorgons, Patro?” she asked. “Because that sounded like a slur.”
Patro sneered. “Yeah, maybe I do … They’re violent dark creatures who can’t figure out how to fucking act right. They’re more like animals than—”
“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.” Agatha cut him off, razor-sharp teeth glinting in her mouth as the skin on her face started to peel away, revealing a monstrous visage.
She opened her maw wider.
In a blur, Achilles moved across the room and stood in front of Patro protectively.
He leaned forward like he was also baring his teeth behind his muzzle; the smoking end of his cigarette matched his eyes.
Flashing crimson lights bathed all of them in shadows as the emergency warning continued blaring.
“They don’t fear her because she’s part Gorgon,” I said.
Everyone turned toward me.
I spoke slowly, “Recessive traits … can be expressed when Spartans breed with creatures … That’s why it doesn’t often happen.”
“What are you talking about?” Patro asked with narrowed eyes.
“There are strange ancestors in the Artemis line,” I said quietly, not looking at Kharon across the room. “Medusa wasn’t born with Chthonic powers—she’s a Gorgon, born with the power of Fate.”
Patro gasped, and the scroll clattered as it dropped from his fingers. “That’s why everyone fears Medusa?” he asked with disbelief.
Drex whimpered.
Patro’s face contorted with disgust. “She’s a fucking monster.” He shivered dramatically. “Snake scum with the power of Fate. She shouldn’t exist.”
Agatha rolled her eyes and sat down primly on the couch. “You’re such a bigot.”
“Oh please,” Patro said. “We’re all thinking it.”
Kharon stared blankly at the wall.
Medusa was his sister.
Poco clambered up my chest, whiskers prickling my cheek as he licked at my eyebrows.
“Thanks, buddy,” I whispered, not really sure if he was helping or making it worse.
He purred and pulled out a chunk of my eyebrow.
Definitely worse.
Kharon picked up The Falcon Chronicles and sat down next to me on the couch. He unrolled to the next story.