THE COLD AIR FELT glorious against Josie’s sweaty skin as she walked up to her building that morning with hands on her hips and lungs burning from her run. She paced the sidewalk in front of her stairs, trying to catch her breath before she made her way inside, not expecting what she found when she reached her hallway.

Her father was banging on the door, his phone pressed to his ear and his face tight. Hank jumped when he saw her, his worry melting into relief as he pulled her into a hug. “Jesus, Jo. Where have you been?”

“I went for a run, just like every morning. What’s the matter?”

He squeezed her tighter.

“I’m all sweaty, Dad.”

“I don’t care.”

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest, not sure what was going on.

After a moment, he pulled back and looked at her. “Let’s go inside.”

“Um…” She panicked.

He hadn’t been over since before Anne died. Hadn’t seen the crime shrine.

He shook his head, and something in his body language set off alarms. “The mess won’t bother me. We need to talk, and I don’t think you’ll want to be in the hallway.”

Goosebumps ran up her arms to her neck. “What happened?”

“Inside.” He jerked his chin at her door. “Come on.”

There was no avoiding it. Josie unlocked her door, trying to stay cool as they stepped in. She didn’t miss the second he saw the wall. The breath he pulled sucked all the air from the room.

“Sweet mother of God,” he breathed.

“Dad—”

Hank held up a hand to stop her, though his eyes were locked on her wall. He stepped toward it with brows knit and eyes narrow. “What in God’s name is all of this?”

Josie squeezed her hands behind her back. “I’ve been working on the case.”

He turned and made a smart-ass face that didn’t displace his anger. “I can see that.”

She didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to say it out loud. “I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t stop looking. You know everything I know. Nothing on that wall is news to you, so how is seeing it like this a surprise?”

“Don’t play with me. This,” he said as he motioned to the wall, “is well above and beyond. Listen, honey, I know this is important to you—”

“No, Dad.” Her voice trembled. “This is everything. Tell me you would have done differently.”

Hank laid his hands on his hips and looked at the ground as he collected himself. “I can’t. I get it, but, Josie, this…” His eyes found the wall again, and he shook his head.

Josie took a breath. “Just look at it. Everything is here—every connection, every victim we’ve been able to find. There could be more, Dad, and now we’ve finally got him. We can bring these families peace by putting him away.”

“Sit down.”

“But, Dad—”

“Sit down, Jo.”

The command was flat and calm, and as she sat, her hands and face went numb.

“There’s a reason I’m here this morning, beating on your door like a crazy man. I kept calling you, and you didn’t answer, and I thought maybe Rhodes…” He looked tortured.

And then she understood. “I’m okay, Daddy,” she answered softly.

“I know. I know you are.” Hank pursed his lips, waiting an agonizing moment before he said, “ Josie, Rhodes is gone.”

The words sent a shock through her, the room dimming. Black spots danced in her vision. There was no air in the room. She dragged in a ragged breath, her lungs screaming.

Gone.

“How…”

“I’m trying to figure that out. I had a patrol in his alley from the time he left the station until this morning when I sent Walker and Davis to his place to hound him. He wasn’t there, wasn’t at any of the places on the list you made of his haunts. He left his phone, his wallet, even his car, but he’s gone. I’ve got a team there combing the place, but if he planned this out…”

She found her voice and looked up at her father. “I have to find him.”

“Now, Josie—” he warned.

She held his eyes. “You’re not going to stop me, so you might as well help me.”

“Goddammit, child,” he hissed and ran a hand through his hair before pointing at her. “If you tell your mother, I swear to all that’s holy—”

“You know I won’t.”

“I do know you won’t. Dammit.” Hank huffed. “I’m not confident we’re going to find anything to help us figure out where he is, Jo. We might not find him, and I need you to think about the what-if, okay?”

Refusal shot through her. “Not yet.”

“No, not yet, but sooner than later.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll call you when we’re finished at Rhodes’s.”

“Okay.”

He watched her for a second like he hated everything about everything. “Be careful, and you get the hell out of there if anything is off. You hear me? You’re not unsinkable, Jo, and if anything should happen to you—”

“Daddy, I know.”

Hank sighed, and the sound weighed a million pounds. “I trust you. I know you’ll be smart. I don’t think he’s hanging around, but you need to assume he’s around every corner. I wish more than anything that you had a partner.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be careful,” she promised.

“Come here.” He opened his arms, and she found herself curled up against his chest. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you, too.”

Hank left Josie standing in her living room, and she stared at the wall for seconds or minutes—she wasn’t sure. She turned and grabbed her gun holster and keys. And when she walked out of her apartment to her car, it was with her gun swaying by her calf as the holster hung loose in her hand.

Think, Josie. Wake up.

Rhodes was gone—fucking gone—and she had to find him. It was the only thing to do, but she couldn’t comprehend how as she sped toward the shooting range. It was the one place she knew she could think.

Josie showed the attendant her membership card and signed in. The indoor range was completely empty, so she walked straight to a booth and set down her gun, extra magazines, and a box of ammo. The second she took aim, she fired in succession until the bullets were gone, immediately discarding the empty magazine to slide another in. As she fired again, the force of each shot reverberated up her arms, to her shoulders, up her neck, and into her brain. The feeling of control wound its way through her, pumping with every jolt as her heart slammed against her ribs.

She tallied the things she’d need to do as her mind ground into motion. She’d need to go to his house, talk to his neighbors. Call in some favors and see if she could find out if he’d pulled out any money. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

But first, I need to calm the fuck down.

So she emptied the magazine again, hitting the mark dead center every time.

Jon climbed the stairs of Josie’s apartment with his eyes on his boots, running through his speech in his head, wondering how much of a fight he was in for.

He stopped when a low, rough voice said, “Landreaux?”

Jon stopped dead at the sound, smelling roses as he looked up to the landing, confused when his eyes met Hank Campbell’s.

“Mr. Campbell?”

Hank slipped his hands into his pockets and descended a couple of steps. “If you came for Josie, she’s not here.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t hide his disappointment.

Hank glanced back over his shoulder. “We must have just missed her. Her phone is in there, too. Damn her. I can hear it ringing.”

“She left her phone?” Jon was shocked at the thought.

“Yeah. She was a little upset when I left a bit ago, but I have a feeling I know where she is.”

Jon’s brows dropped. “What happened?”

“I shouldn’t tell you anything, you know.”

“I get that a lot from the Campbells.”

“Can you blame us?” Hank asked.

“No, I don’t suppose I can.”

Hank looked Jon over and folded his arms. “I know what happened between you and my daughter, and I’ll tell you that from my end—and off the record—I think she’s in the wrong. I know how much she cares about you. She needs a friend, and she needs someone to watch her back. Can I trust you to do that?”

“Yes, sir, I can try. It really all depends on Josie.”

He shifted, and his face was tight with worry. “How much do you know about Anne’s death?”

“I know they were looking for a missing girl, and I know that Jo suspects that a man by the name of Corey Rhodes killed Anne, Hannah, and a number of other girls, mostly prostitutes.”

“She tell you all that?” Hank didn’t look like he believed it.

Jon smirked. “In a way.”

“Josie found Anne’s necklace two days ago stuck in her window rail, and it had his fingerprint on it. She lifted it and got a match off of a can in Rhodes’s garbage.”

“Holy shit.” Jon reached for the handrail and gripped it tight.

Hank nodded. “Except after we brought him in yesterday, he lawyered up, left the station, and disappeared.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jon whispered.

“I came back since I couldn’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t have left her alone after dropping that kind of news, but she was already gone. I can’t really go looking for her right now. I’ve got to get back to the station, but I have an idea where she is.”

“All right. What can I do?”

“First, I need to know something. Why didn’t you say goodbye to her?”

Jon swallowed, his throat dry and eyes pleading. “I tried. I told her everything in a letter, but she never got it. I couldn’t say it out loud, and I know what that makes me, but if I could do it over again…”

Hank’s hard face softened by a degree. “You hurt her again, and I’ll gut you.”

“Understood,” Jon said, relieved and surprised at the feeling that he’d just gotten Hank Campbell’s blessing in Josie’s stairwell. “We’ll see if I’ve got a chance.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you do, if you can make it past the firing squad,” Hank answered, amused. “Josie always shoots when she’s upset, and she’s a member at the Westside Range. If I was a betting man, I’d put my money on her being there.”

“Yes, sir, I recall that she’s a member. So am I, and we’ve bumped into each other there before, so I’m certain I can get by without making her suspicious.”

“That’s appreciated. She’d flay me if she knew I’d spoken to you.”

“And then you’d flay me.”

Hank chuckled. “I don’t care what anyone else says about you, kid. You’re all right,” he said with twinkling eyes.

The corner of Jon’s mouth lifted. “Thanks, Mr. Campbell.”

“Call me Hank, and don’t make me regret any of this,” he said as he made his way down the stairs.

Jon followed. “Yes, sir.”

The two men parted ways at the sidewalk with the invitation for Jon to contact Hank if he needed anything.

And Jon finally had an in. He didn’t even know how it had happened, but there it was.

But the game had changed. The evidence board didn’t matter. Connecting Rhodes to the murders was moot. They had to find him, and the slate had all of a sudden been wiped clean.

Jon walked the few blocks to the subway station so fast, it was more of a slow jog, his thoughts whirling around his head the whole way. He pictured Josie finding the necklace, and his chest squeezed and tightened.

She’d found a way to pin Rhodes, and he’d escaped. Jon couldn’t even imagine what was going through her head, what she’d been through since he saw her last, and wished again he had been able to be there for her.

He had missed so much.

By the time he reached the Westside Range, he was wound up and nervous as all hell. And once he signed in and made his way into the range and through the threshold of stalls, his heart skipped a beat, starting again like a hammer as he walked toward her.

Josie stood in the aisle, her long legs in black running shorts, her copper hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes, behind safety glasses, were trained down the range, her body as tight as a bowstring. The overhead lights cast shadows on the gentle slopes of her biceps as she fired, not stopping between shots.

She didn’t register him when he stopped near her, not until she lowered her arms and dropped her magazine. The second she caught sight of him in her periphery, she turned to him with shock and anger and pain written in every line and angle of her face.

She flipped off her ear protectors. “What in the actual fuck are you doing here?”

He played it off like it was chance, him being there, smiling at her with his heart on fire. “This is the only firing range in Manhattan, and I’m a member, same as you. Is it really all that crazy that I’d see you here?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. This has to be some sick joke.”

She reached into the box of ammo in front of her and slid the bullets into the empty magazine, one by one. Jon didn’t miss that her hands trembled as she popped them in.

“You okay, Josie?” Jon asked innocently like the fucking asshole he was.

Josie couldn’t even look at him, couldn’t believe that, of all days, of all times, he had walked in right then. She couldn’t go one day without him showing up, and that day, in that moment, there was no way she could deal with him. She couldn’t deal with anything.

“No, I am not fucking okay.” Her voice wavered as she slammed the magazine into her pistol and picked up an empty one to load it.

Josie could feel him even though he was several feet away, could feel his sadness and worry as he watched her in silence.

When she couldn’t stand the quiet anymore, she filled it with words. “Rhodes is gone. He’s fucking gone because I found his fingerprint, and Dad brought him in. Anne’s necklace has been in my apartment this whole time. The entire time. It was right there.” She slapped the magazine down on the counter, though her hand didn’t move from over it as she leaned on the surface and closed her eyes. “He’s gone, and now, I have to find him.”

“I’m sorry.” His words were heavy with concern.

“It’s not your fault.” She opened her eyes and picked up the last empty magazine, keeping her attention on her hands.

“I’m sorry all the same.”

“I can’t fucking handle you right now. Not today.” She finally looked at him, but her jaw was tight, and she hoped the warning was clear.

“Josie, I’ve been staring at a replica of your wall for days. I want to help. You know I do, and you know I can.”

She shook her head. Of all the people in all the world, he might be one of the last who she’d ask for help, who she would ever trust. She also knew he was the only person who could. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

“I care more than just about anybody, and I don’t doubt that you can figure this out because you’re the most capable woman I’ve ever known. I saw what you did with the evidence wall, and it’s one of the smartest, most terrifying things I’ve ever seen. I know you can do this on your own. But that doesn’t mean you should.”

Josie raised her gun and fired through another round. He waited as she dropped the magazine and slammed another home before unloading it again. Somewhere in the third magazine, he finally turned and walked away.

Her ears rang with each shot, her eyes burning as she emptied the chamber. And when he was finally gone, she dropped her arms, pressing her palms on the counter, head bowed where he could no longer see her cry.

It was just after dusk that evening, the sun slipping away with Josie’s hope. She shifted on her aching feet, standing on the porch of one of Rhodes’s neighbors, who apologized for not having more information before closing her door.

Josie turned and walked down the steps. She had spoken to anyone who would listen as she waited for the police team to leave Rhodes’s house. But, of course, no one had seen or heard anything, and she found herself feeling helpless and numb and empty.

It was the worst kind of tired, like nothing mattered enough to stop you from curling up wherever you were, closing your eyes, and sleeping forever. She had no new information by the close of the day, and neither did Hank.

There was only one thing left on her list for the day—break into his house.

Josie walked down the block and to the alley, stopping by her car to grab her gloves and picks before making her way up his driveway, sneaking into his back gate and quietly closing it behind her, ignoring the police tape. It wasn’t the first time she’d broken into his house, though she’d never been there at night. It was eerily quiet as she unrolled her leather pick case and pulled on her gloves.

She looked around the door for a tamper seal, but there was none. Hank had said they hadn’t found anything other than his fingerprints, which were a match to the one on Anne’s necklace. Rhodes had been raised from potential suspect to wanted man, but nothing in his home connected him with any other murders or indicated where he’d gone. Josie wasn’t convinced that she would fare any better, but she had to do it.

She had to see for herself.

Josie turned on her flashlight, gripping it between her teeth to illuminate the lock as she slipped her picks in, twisting and wiggling them to manipulate the pins inside, smiling when she heard the click. Her gloved hand wrapped around the knob and pushed, and the door swung open into the dark kitchen. She gathered her things and stepped across the threshold, closing the door behind her with a soft snick.

The only light in the silent house was the small beam from her flashlight as it swept the room.

“Where to start?” she whispered to herself.

The quiet house was neat and tidy, everything dusted and symmetric, which had always creeped her out. In the living room, two love seats faced each other. His TV hung on the wall, flanked by two paintings of a landscape, almost identical. She thumbed through the contents of his built-in bookshelves, noting all the generic reading material, classics that people were supposed to read and enjoy, lest they become social lepers, and she wondered if he’d read a single one. The spines were perfect.

As she climbed the stairs, she noticed that nothing seemed out of place. There were no signs of a hasty exit throughout the house, strangely not even in his bedroom where the bed was neatly made and topped with throw pillows, the drawers all buttoned up tight. Josie opened them anyway, and though they were almost bare, everything left was folded in neat little rows. She rummaged through his nightstand, looking for any papers he might have scribbled a note on, but found nothing.

There was nothing.

Artemis looked in as Josie walked into Rhodes’s office and sat down to go through his desk drawers. When she opened the long middle drawer, Artemis thought of the business card, and it appeared in a corner where Josie wasn’t looking as she sorted through rubber bands and paperclips. The name and information of a man who knew who had helped Rhodes get away were printed on it, and Artemis sat back, smiling. Josie would find him, and she’d be on her way after Rhodes in no time.

Dita gasped when she saw it, instantly recognizing the logo with the fat panda on it. “Perry! Look at that! What the fuck?”

“Get rid of it! Dammit, hurry!” She slapped Dita on the arm.

“Good gods.” Dita huffed, and the card disappeared just as Josie turned her attention deeper in the drawer where the card had been. Dita sat back on her couch. “That was close. She never would have accepted Jon’s help if she’d found it, and my plans would have been fucked sideways.”

“Crisis averted.”

“For now,” Dita said, not feeling so sure.

Josie smelled roses and looked up, baffled. She glanced around, certain that Rhodes wasn’t the type to keep flowers in his home, but shook her head when she found nothing amiss and turned back to the drawer.

She felt around the base as she always did, looking for a false bottom. Just once, she wished she would find one, just for novelty’s sake, but she was pretty sure IKEA didn’t make furniture with secret panels.

Leaning back in the office chair, she looked around the room, wondering how long before he’d sat in that spot and what he had been thinking. Where he would go.

Earlier that day, Josie had called in a favor to a friend who worked at a big bank chain where Rhodes had an account. Off the record, no large amount of cash had been withdrawn, though he’d been steadily pulling out several hundred dollars in chunks from ATMs ever since Anne was killed. And with that, she knew he’d planned on leaving all along.

Her job was infinitely more difficult with that knowledge. He wouldn’t have slipped up, not with time to prepare.

So the question was, where had he gone?

There were so many things he would need to be able to disappear, including a new identity and a car since his was still in his driveway. He wouldn’t go where anyone would recognize him, so the New York City area was out, as was Boston and Deer Lodge, Montana.

He could be anywhere else.

She wondered how deep he’d gone in getting new identification and guessed it would be all the way, as meticulous as he’d been to that point. He would have needed a connection, some way to get fake IDs. But Rhodes had no one to trust. He was antisocial and reclusive, and she didn’t believe he would clue anyone in who could be linked back to him. He would have been more likely to seek out someone sketchy in a seedy bar under an alias than to ever discuss something so direct with anyone he knew.

She’d stop by and talk to his coworkers for good measure, but she didn’t suspect she’d find much. Rhodes was smarter than that; he’d been getting away with actual murder for thirty years.

Her only other idea was to paper junkyards with flyers, hoping someone would remember him and praying he hadn’t bought his getaway car off Craigslist.

Dread crept into her stomach as it dawned on her for the first time that she might never find him. There might be no justice, no closure. It might never be over, and she didn’t know how she could move on.

She pushed the thought away and stood, looking over the room a final time before making her way back downstairs and through his kitchen to descend the stairs of his basement.

Josie swept her small light around the cold, dark room, and a shiver rolled down her spine. She fought the urge to turn and run back up the stairs and had to force her legs to move her through the room.

A weight bench and elliptical as well as a rack of free weights were the prominent decor. The only other items in the room were an old couch and coffee table that sat in the nook created by the stairs. As she walked over to the furniture, she couldn’t stop thinking how odd it was that a couch and table were there when the room was so sparse. There was no TV to watch, no bookshelf. Just a couch and a coffee table and a bunch of weights.

She wondered why she’d never considered it before, a sick feeling of realization rolling through her.

The crawl space opening was blocked by cardboard boxes, and she knelt down to move them out of the way, shining her flashlight inside.

Something had been hidden there.

Her heart pounded. She could see the square in the dust on the ground where it had rested and drag marks where it had been pulled out. Her mind flashed with the possibilities of what it might have been as she stared inside.

It almost killed her not to know.

She stood and turned as she let out a breath, looking over the basement with an icy hollow in her chest. She was standing in the room where he’d killed them. Somehow, she knew. He had brought them to that room and murdered them, and their last moments had been filled with the rafters and naked light bulbs, the cold concrete underneath them and Rhodes’s face above, the smell of the musty basement in their noses as they had taken their last breaths.

He had killed them, wrapped them up, taken them away, and dropped them in the river to be forgotten.

But Josie would never forget. And she would make him pay for every one.

“I actually hate not letting Josie find that card.” Dita sank into her overstuffed couch and tugged her throw over her legs.

“I know, but damn, that would have been a disaster.” Perry pulled her black hair out of its knot and shook it out with her fingers.

“I still cannot believe that Artemis did all this.”

“Maybe Artemis does know something you don’t. Maybe Josie has some psychic superpower.”

“You know good and well she doesn’t. But if Jon can find something before Josie does—”

“He could take that to her—”

Dita nodded. “And she’d let him help. She’s going to go after Rhodes, but I’d feel loads better if Jon went with her.”

“Well, you’d definitely have a better chance at winning.”

“What?” Dita wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be asinine. That is seriously the last thing I’m worried about right now.”

Perry raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe not the very last thing, but it’s not on the level with keeping them safe, not even close. Rhodes is dangerous, and if Josie’s on her own with him…”

“Yeah, I don’t want to think about it.” Perry paused, clearly thinking about it before changing the subject. “Well, your plan sounds solid. I think you can make it work.”

“I can definitely make it work, but I’m still worried.” Dita put her forehead in her hands. “I am so tired, and I am beyond mad at Artemis. Look.” She held her trembling hand out flat to illustrate. “I mean, what if they can’t catch him?”

“Poor Josie. This is so hard on her.”

Dita’s anger rolled around in her, and she felt herself scowling.

“Did you sleep?”

“Nope. After my meltdown yesterday, I was sure I’d pass out. After you guys left last night, I took a super-long bubble bath and read, but when I lay down, I couldn’t sleep. I stared out the window until the sun came up.”

“Did you doze at all?”

Dita took a deep breath. “Yeah. Not okay.”

“Want to tell me?”

“Not the details, but last night was the Adonis show. He died over and over again in my arms, and I couldn’t stop it. Then, I’d realize that I was holding the knife, and the dream would start over.”

“Gods, Dita.”

“I know. I’m sick, and I don’t know how to get better. No one can help me.” She let out a sigh. “You know something else? I was thinking about why Echo had brought me the mirror in the first place. That timing was really fucking convenient.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about that too. It just seems really strange to me that she would bring it to you, unprompted. How did she even know you would be interested in it? She didn’t know about Adonis. Someone had to tell her. She never leaves her cave, like, ever.”

Dita’s thoughts fired in her head like Black Cats in a tin can. “Artemis.”

“Yeah,” Perry said flatly.

“Motherfucker,” Dita breathed. “She did it to fuck with me, to mess with my head.” She shook her head with her eyes out of focus, not believing it. “If it wasn’t for her, you and I wouldn’t have fought. I wouldn’t have gone through the pain that the mirror had caused. It’s her fault. It’s all her fault.”

“Hang on, you’re the one who went crazy when you got it,” Perry reminded her.

“I know that, but she instigated the whole thing. She set it all up to hurt me on purpose.”

“We don’t know that she wanted to hurt you. In fact, we don’t even know for sure if she did it.”

That was all Dita needed. She flipped her blanket off and stormed to the elevator. “Well, I’m going to fucking find out. Right now. Are you coming?”

Perry eyed her warily. “I don’t know if you can handle her in your current state of zombie brain, but is there really any way to stop you?”

“No.” Dita practically ran for the elevator, untethering her anger and letting it fly. “I’m pretty much running strictly on adrenaline, which will go really badly for her if she crosses me.”

Perry trotted in behind her, and the doors closed. “Should we have a safe word in case you go apeshit?”

“Good idea.” Dita thought for a second. “Purple rain.”

“Ooh. Done. Will you actually stop if I say it?”

“Probably.”

The elevator doors opened into Artemis’s domain, and Dita barreled down the moonlit path to the boulder where the Oceanids made camp. They scrambled for weapons as she approached, moving around their small fires with their eyes on her, and several drew their bows.

Dita held her hand up and knocked two down with a blast. “Artemis,” she called.

Artemis pushed the flap of her tent open and stepped out with her lips in a flat line. “Aphrodite.”

Dita stopped across from her. “You sent Echo to me with the mirror.”

Artemis’s hands were loose at her sides, and Dita made note of the dagger just visible in her boot and the other in her holster.

“I did. I believed that you might appreciate the opportunity to see him again.”

“Oh, I am so sure you did it out of the kindness of your heart.” The sarcasm cut through the air. “You cruel, twisted creature. You play with things you do not understand. How can you be so careless and vicious with the hearts of others? You have no concern for me or Josie or anyone, and now, you’ve thrown your player into the fire—and on purpose. It’s irresponsible and foolhardy and cavalier and…and…I don’t know. Fucked the fuck up.”

Everything grew darker by shades as Artemis began to glow, as if she were drawing all of the moonlight into her skin. “I do not answer to you, especially when you come into my home in the middle of the night just to fight.”

Nymphs lined up around Aphrodite with their bows drawn.

“I am not afraid of you, Artemis. I’ve been into the depths of Hades and lived through more than you can even fathom.” Dita knew her eyes were glowing as the wind whipped around her. “Tell your bitches to back off. I don’t want any of them to get hurt.”

“Do not threaten me.”

“I didn’t threaten you,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “I threatened them.”

“Purple rain.” Perry was tentative, her eyes bouncing between the goddesses.

Dita waved her off without even looking in her direction. “You have no idea how humans work, how love or emotions work. They’re like little playthings for you to destroy. Does it make you happy to cause them pain?”

Artemis’s eyes were dark as she dropped her chin, and her jaw set in a hard line. “I do not want Josie to be hurt.”

“But you’ve already hurt her, don’t you see? And now you have sent her after the lion with nothing but a slingshot. If she does get hurt, it’s nothing to you, isn’t it? Don’t you care? Do you care about anything? Have you ever cared about anything?”

“I have cared more deeply than you and the men you throw away. You speak to me of carelessness when you know nothing of devotion.” Artemis took a step toward her, seething and accusing. “How can the goddess of love be so blind to her own heart? You claim to love a hateful dog who would murder you if it meant no other could have you. Your other love is a vapid half-wit who has been dead for three thousand years. And then,” she scoffed, “there is your husband, who you have made a cuckold of for eternity. Could you truly be so empty? Really, it is only proof that you have never loved anyone but yourself.”

The words swallowed Dita whole and spit her out hot. Her face twisted as she rushed Artemis, shrieking like a Harpy.

Artemis dodged her, and the goddesses circled each other, eyes glowing and power charged in their hands.

“Purple rain! Purple rain!” Perry yelled, running into the fray after Dita.

When Perry caught her, she pulled Dita’s arms, dragging her toward the path away from camp. Dita let Perry guide her away, but her eyes never left Artemis, though her rage and wrath ebbed by a small degree.

She shook Perry off. “Don’t act like you have your shit together, Artemis. Orion is gone and by no fault of mine. Deal with your own baggage without taking it out on everyone else.” She punctuated her words with the jab of her finger. “Insult me all you want, but it’s not my problem that you can’t get over the fact that you loved and lost.”

Dita turned and stormed up the hill, and Perry gave an awkward wave and apologetic smile before she turned and trotted to catch up, leaving Artemis standing among her Oceanids. The nymphs lowered their bows and turned to stare at her.

Artemis cleared her throat and held her chin high. “Back to work, and retire early, for we hunt at dawn.”

No one moved.

“That is an order,” she snapped.

And the Oceanids dispersed with whispers and looks.

Her cheeks were hot as she blew back into her tent, closing the flap with a snap. She dropped onto her bed, cradling her head in shaky hands, and there in the dark, she found truth in every word Aphrodite had spoken.