Branches slapped and swatted at Dita as she ran through Elysium, the trees looming and dark, the sun hidden behind twisting clouds. The trees and bushes slashed at her palms shielding her face, shredding her arms to ribbons as they reached for her, clung to her, tangled her robes in their craggy fingers until she could go no further. She was caught, paralyzed, and when she looked behind her, terror rose in her throat.

She could hear him crashing through the forest behind her, snorting and grunting, as she desperately pulled at the fabric, unable to get free.

The bundle of robes in her hands turned from white to blood red, the crimson spreading, climbing up her body like a living thing.

A boar burst through the brush, his eyes red and glowing, eyes that marked her. And she knew it was her end. He would kill her before he’d let her go.

He slashed his tusks and charged, descending on her with such heat, such rumbling, the forest itself trembled.

Dita shot up in bed, a scream caught in her throat, hair matted to her face, wrenched in pain and fear, eyes seeing nothing but his, red as blood, glowing like coals, looking for her.

She smelled smoke and fire, felt the warmth of Heff’s arms around her, so strong, so safe as he pulled her into his lap. And she curled into him like a child and cried.

She cried for her fears and her losses, cried for her pain and for the lies, so many lies. And she’d believed Ares.

Heff rocked her slowly, his thick fingers smoothing her hair, his lips whispering words of comfort. But there was no comfort to be found. Because Ares would never let her go.

Never.

Time passed as Heff held her — whether minutes or hours, she couldn’t say. But it was a very long time before she exhausted her tears, and she never left Heff’s arms, her face placid, her mind numb, cold as ice.

“Drink this,” he said after a while with a gentle rumble, handing her a glass of water.

She took it stupidly, sipping it as he peered at her, his eyes so blue, so full of worry.

When she handed the glass back, he set it down and wrapped her in his arms again.

The clock didn’t move until Perry entered the room.

Cerberus uncurled himself from where he lay, snuggled with Bisoux, trotting to Perry to snuffle into her hand. But she didn’t seem to notice.

“Thank the gods you’re awake.”

Perry looked to Heff for answers, but he only shook his head and rocked her a little more, his cheek resting against her crown.

She sat, tucking a lock of hair behind her friend’s ear. “What can we do?” she asked quietly.

Dita didn’t move, didn’t answer.

“Would you like to go to Cyprus?”

Her head rose, chin trembling. She nodded.

Perry smiled at Heff as black smoke encircled them until they were enclosed entirely, and when a gentle breeze passed over them, it carried the smoke away.

They sat on the white sands of a beach, the ocean blue as a jewel in the sunshine.

Dita unfolded herself from Heff’s lap, her limbs stiff and aching as she stood, eyes on the sea.

Petra tou Romiou.

The cluster of gigantic rocks, nicknamed Aphrodite’s Rock, jutted up from the water, tall and white. The stones of the rocky beach pressed into her feet, the sun warm on her skin, the salt on the air kissing her sweetly.

The ocean called to her, and she moved to it in answer, shedding her clothes in a trail until the icy water lapped at her feet.

She was home.

She waded into the still water and dived in, following the shallow slope of the earth down into the sea.

Massive rocks clustered before her, and she swam between them and around, past small schools of reef fish unfazed by her presence. An eel emerged from a crag and swam by, its body a continuous wave, its striped skin undulating and eerie eyes peering, mouth gaping as it found another crack to disappear into.

The rocks, covered in coral and kelp and anemones with dancing tentacles, bore cracks that each seemed to home to something — octopus and squid, cuttlefish and crab. And she swam on, casting her shadow on the ocean floor where starfish and sea snails crept.

She came to a clearing and released the last air from her lungs, sinking to the floor on her back, face tilted to the sun so far above, her hair hanging in the water around her.

The endless ocean cradled her, her smallness comforting, humbling, a reminder.

She was born in those waters. When she’d woken on that very beach, she was fully grown, fully aware from the moment she opened her eyes. Her father was Uranus, God of the Sky, murdered and castrated by Cronus, Zeus’s father. Cronus had thrown Uranus’s severed appendage into the sea, and she was born of the foam. The waters calmed her and healed her. They always had.

A school of jellyfish pumped their way past, long tentacles trailing behind them. And she wished to be free. She wished to be whole.

But Ares had stolen a part of her that would never be returned. She would never be truly whole again.

Lies. Deceit. Betrayal.

Such was their way.

She thought of all the times he’d tricked her. So many lies he’d told, too many to count over too many years to comprehend.

But the worst was that she’d accepted his lies. Because lies were easier than the truth.

Her anguish drained out of her with the current, and resolve took its place.

There was no time to mourn.

She had work to do.

To the surface she swam, taking a moment to float on her back, eyes closed, the sound of the ocean in her ears and the warmth of the sun on her face.

And then it was time.

She made her way back to the shore and onto the beach, wet hair hanging down her naked back as she walked toward Perry and Heff. His jeans were rolled up, arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes on her, hot and reverent and commanding her attention without asking a single thing of her, without demand. And her heart sought his for a long moment, selfishly wishing for his selflessness to heal her.

But she was too broken to love, the shattered pieces of her too sharp to touch.

Perry stood as Dita approached, handing her the clothes she’d shed.

“Better?” Perry asked.

“Much,” she answered as she dressed.

Dita embraced her friend, releasing her only to move to Heff, who stood, dusting off his pants to hide his eyes. But she found them anyway, silently thanking them as she slipped her small hand into his large one.

He looked down at her with love and concern and pain. “Tell me you’ll be all right.”

“I’ll be all right,” she lied and squeezed his hand. “Let’s go home.”

Ares ran his hand across his stubbled jaw, watching with bloodshot eyes while Eric talked to the owner of the bar where the girls worked.

Eric wore a winning smile as he chatted with Jerry, who eyed Eric with suspicion.

“Where did you say you came from?” Jerry’s arms were spread, palms resting on the edge of the bar.

“Vegas. They didn’t mention me?”

“Funny, but no. They didn’t.” The words were flat and harsh.

Eric’s smile fell. “I really need to find out where they are.”

“You mentioned that. Thing is, I don’t know you, but it occurs to me that they might not be so happy to see you. So, sorry, kid, but I can’t help you.”

Eric nodded, resigned as he stood, extending his hand. “I understand. Thanks anyway.”

Jerry grasped Eric’s hand with an affirming nod and a brief look of relief — until Eric yanked him forward, grabbed the back of his head, and slammed it into the bar with a sick thunk in a silent bar. Jerry slid behind the bar and to the floor.

Eric squared his shoulders and walked to the back of the bar and into the office. The laptop on the desk was open, everything he needed right there, easy as pie.

Just like the end of the sisters.

Dita twisted her hair up in a knot that smelled of salt and sunshine.

Perry and Heff sat with her in the silence of her living room, the three of them watching Eric, his face glowing from the light of the computer screen as he jotted down the girls’ address, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

Her thumbnail found itself between her teeth.

“This is it,” she said to no one, to herself. “He’s timed it perfectly. Kiki’s by herself at the apartment.”

Eric slipped the pad in his pocket, not even sparing a glance for the man lying in a heap behind the bar.

And Dita turned to Kiki and whispered a plea to the stars.

The television played quietly in the dark, but Kiki wasn’t watching. Her eyes were on her fingers as she filed her nails in blissful solitude, alone for the first time in days.

Owen hadn’t let her go easily.

They’d gotten into an argument about it, though she used the word lightly. Really it was just a slight pressing of opposing opinions, ending with a kiss and a promise she’d see him in two hours.

He’d maintained, as a final push, that Kat would kill him if she found out he’d let her leave. He wasn’t wrong.

But it wasn’t either of their decisions to make. She’d only wanted a moment to go home and pack a few things, and then she would call Owen to come get her. He’d tried to insist on driving her, but he would have stayed with her. So she had insisted that a ride home on the subway and a few minutes to herself wouldn’t be the end of the world.

He’d reluctantly agreed. And the train ride home with nothing but her music in her earbuds had brought her more peace than she’d had in days.

Kat wasn’t home, still absent, though they were set to talk at work. They’d call their father that night.

It would all be over soon.

She clicked off the television, throwing the room into darkness.

But something was wrong.

Gooseflesh broke out across her skin, fear seizing her. She reached over to turn on a lamp, creating an island of light.

Roses in the air, the smell overpowering, and a single thought possessed her.

Owen. I have to call Owen.

Kiki picked up her phone, tapped his name, and pressed the phone to her ear, eyes trained on the dark corners of the living room.

“Hey, you ready?” he answered cheerfully.

“Yes …”

The cheer was erased, replaced by alarm. “What’s the matter?”

“Something’s wrong. I … I don’t know what.” Her voice wavered, the terror climbing up her back, into her mind.

She could hear shuffling, the clinking of keys on the line. “Stay on the phone. We’re on our way.”

The front door boomed as a fist banged against it.

“Someone’s here,” she whispered.

“Don’t answer it.” Dillon’s car roared to life on the other end of the line.

“I know you’re in there, Kiki!” Eric yelled through the door.

And her blood ran cold. “It’s him.”

“Stay with me!” Owen yelled, desperate. “Dillon, go. Go!”

“Open the door.”

Thump, thump, thump went the door and her heart.

They wouldn’t make it. They couldn’t get there fast enough.

Eric wouldn’t wait.

“Open the fucking door!”

She jumped, the jolt jostling a tear from her brimming lids.

“Owen, I love you. I want you to know.”

“Kiki, no—” He was broken, the words crumbling.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” A sob shuddered through her.

“Don’t hang up, Kiki. Please, God, don’t hang up,” he begged. “I love you too. I love you. Don’t leave me.”

There was a scraping on the other side of the door, then a groan of wood, and the door popped open.

And there Eric stood with a crowbar, a slash of a smile, and eyes deeper than hell itself.

Kiki screamed.

Kat sighed, the wind blowing through her hair, her radio too loud, not too far from the house. She’d slept most of the day, leaving that afternoon to drive through the city, feeling more herself than she had in days.

Which was good. It was time for them all to move on and move forward. Put the past at their backs where it belonged.

She was ready to go home.

Her phone rang from the passenger seat, and she turned the radio down, reaching for it. Owen’s name was on the screen.

Her heart stopped.

“Owen?” she answered, pulse ticking.

“Kat, it’s Kiki,” he said, frantic and wild.

“What happened?”

“It’s Eric.”

The world spun away from her, the ground gone.

“She went home to get her things; she said she’d be okay. It was just for a minute, not enough time, but he found her. Ka,t he’s there. You’ve got to get to her. He was breaking the door down when I lost her.”

She let off the gas, downshifting as she turned with smoking tires. “Goddammit. You fucking let her leave.”

“I tried, I … I tried. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His breath hitched. “She needed some time. I just didn’t think…”

She pushed the accusation away. She’d left Kiki too, and for days. It was just as much her fault as his, and she wouldn’t blame him. Not for that.

“It’s not your fault,” was the extent of what she could say. There was no time. “Don’t call the cops. I’m calling my father.”

“All right. We’re on our way as fast as we can.”

Kat hung up and called her father, her breath shallow as it rang.

“Hai.”

“Papa …” Her voice quaked.

The worry in his words rang in her ears. “What has happened?”

“Kiki’s in trouble. He’s come after her, Papa. He’s got her in the house.”

“Eric?”

He’d known. He’d known all along, just not everything.

“Yes.”

“Chikusho,” he swore. “I will send help, Katsumi.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll keep her safe.”

“I know. Now, go.”

And she broke, a tear slipping from her eye. “I love you, Papa.”

He paused, his voice rough when he answered, “As I love you, masume.”

She hung up, tossing the phone in the seat and wiping her eyes before gripping her wheel and flying home.

Kat pulled up to the curb in front of the brownstone, reaching under her seat for her Sig, clutching it in both hands as she ran up the stairs, a tremor of fear shooting through her when the bullet clicked into the chamber.

She pulled open the outer door, standing motionless for a moment, taking in everything she could. The front door hung open, the wood reduced to splinters where it had been locked, and the room beyond was pitch-black except for a single lamp that lit only a small circle of the living room. Both hands held the grip of the pistol, her back against the wall.

And she closed her eyes and listened.

Her heartbeat in her ears. Her breath, shallow and quiet. The city hummed. A car thundered by, and when it was quiet again, she heard a muffled sob.

Her eyes flew open.

“Eric, let her go,” she called to him through the open door.

“And why would I do that, Kat?”

“Because if you’re too stupid to listen, you’re going to be in deeper shit than you already are.”

“Funny, because the gun I have against her temple would disagree.”

Kat froze. She’d stupidly believed he’d show up with only his fists to protect him. And in the dark, with a gun to Kiki’s head, there was no way she could get off a clean shot. She had no idea where in the room he even was.

Fuck.

She couldn’t do anything from where she was. So she took a breath and stepped into the dark room, pistol scanning the room.

“Ah, ah, ah.”

Eric emerged from the shadows. His massive arm gripped Kiki by the neck, her small hands hanging onto the thick bands of muscle, nails biting into his skin. As promised, the barrel of his gun was pressed to Kiki’s temple hard enough to bend her neck.

Kat trained the sight of her Sig between his eyebrows. “Let her go.”

“Put the gun down.” He released the safety.

Her heart stopped.

“Put it down, you stupid bitch.”

She lowered her hands, dropping the gun with a clunk.

“Get your hands up.”

She raised them again, palms out, mind racing.

There was no way out but one.

Keep him fucking talking.

Her voice was calm, her face a mask of composure. “So is this your grand plan?”

“I told you this wasn’t over. You shouldn’t have raced, you know that? If you really didn’t want me to find you, you should have just shut the fuck up. Not that it would have saved you. I would have just waited. I would have found her. I will always find her.”

“Now you’ve got her. And what about me?”

“Collateral damage and a debt owed. You should never have taken her from me.”

She kept still against every instinct. “Tanaka knows you’re here. If you kill us, he won’t stop until he finds you.”

“Then I’ll just have to disappear.” He looked down at Kiki, squeezing her neck a little tighter. “Change your mind. Tell me you want me.”

Kiki twisted to look at him, her face smooth, betrayed by a tear slipping down her cheek. “I want you. I shouldn’t have left.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.”

He cupped the back of her head with the hand around her neck in a gesture that was sickly tender, the touch of a lover and a killer. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” she echoed, the sound hollow.

Eric’s face twisted in rage as he pressed the gun deeper into her temple, eliciting a scream.

“You fucking liar!” he howled. Then, he said softly, “You can’t lie to me, Kiki. You don’t know how bad it hurts when you lie.” And then Eric looked back to Kat, saying to Kiki, “Sleep, baby. It’s time me and your sister had a heart-to-heart.”

He flexed his arm, squeezing her airway as her mouth opened and closed in a silent scream, hands tearing at him, her legs kicking and thrashing, her tears slipping down purple cheeks.

And then she slowed, her eyes rolling back, her hands dropping from his arms to hang lifelessly at her sides. He gently dropped her to the ground.

Kat’s eyes were on her sister, quiet tears falling. She couldn’t look away. “What are you going to do with me, Eric?”

He pointed the gun at her. “I’m gonna kill you.”

Dillon pulled up next to Kat’s car, leaving it in the middle of the street with the door gaping, his adrenaline raging, his body shaking, his mind with one purpose.

Save them.

He took the stairs to the building two at a time, slowly pulling the door open, softly stepping in, stopping in front of the broken front door to listen. He held his hand out to stop Owen from moving past him, pressing a single finger to his lips.

“So, you’re just going to shoot me?” Kat sounded fearless, but he heard the edge in her words, the tightness of her throat.

Footsteps. Eric’s voice moving closer to the door. “What else can I do? I have no use for you.”

“And you’re not worried about attracting attention with a gunshot?”

He laughed, and the sound made Dillon’s skin crawl. “I’ll be long gone.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

“Keep her. Convince her.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Well, there’s only one other way out. If she can’t see, if she can’t understand, there’s only one answer.”

A pause. “Tanaka’s not going to let you go. He knows you’re here, and he’s coming for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kat,” Eric said, deadly calm on the other side of the door. “It’s over. It was always going to end this way. You should have shot me when you had the chance.”

And Dillon wouldn’t wait a second longer. He stepped into the doorway, finding Eric, back turned and just a few feet in front of him.

His gun was trained on Kat.

Her eyes darted to his in a moment of salvation and fear.

And Eric turned.

And everything flew into motion.

Dillon stepped into Eric with a swing that caught him in the eye, his arms flailing in surprise. The gun skittered across the room.

But Eric didn’t care about the gun — he had a new mark. His dark hair was wild, his lip curled as they circled. And in the darkness, he could see the dim red glow of Eric’s eyes, watching him.

And then Eric moved.

He moved with inhuman speed, landing a heavy punch to Dillon’s jaw that sent him reeling, the room spinning away from him. Two steps back, and Dillon sprang, charging Eric.

But Eric saw him coming, catching him in a hold, picking him up like he weighed nothing, slamming him into the ground, emptying his lungs. As Eric descended, Dillon gasped for breath, using his reserve strength to sweep his leg. Eric stumbled, and Dillon bounded into him, taking him down in a roll that ended with Dillon at an advantage.

Dillon pinned him with his knees and unleashed, swinging and swinging.

Kat fumbled with the gun, too shaken for composure, trying to track them, but they were too fast, it was too dark.

“Shoot him!” Owen yelled.

“I can’t get a clean shot!”

They rolled again, grappling for purchase until Dillon rolled away, and they rose from the ground. But it was only long enough for them to spring into motion again. Eric charged Dillon, who spun out of the way at the last minute, sending Eric careening into the wall. And the second he turned around, Dillon was waiting.

He put every ounce of his weight, every shred of who he was, behind his fist as he swung, feet rooted to the ground, body pivoting. And when it connected with Eric’s temple, Dillon heard the crack and knew.

Eric went down sideways and hit the ground with nothing to break his fall, his limbs as dead as his eyes. Eyes that stared across the room at where Kiki lay, as if he’d twisted his neck too far in an effort to get one last look.

Dillon stood over him, fists tight, mind tripping, chest rising and falling and rising.

And then he heard his name on her lips.

He turned to the sound, finding her there, gun hanging in her hands between the wide stance of her legs, her mouth slack and brows knit in shock and fear and relief. And he closed the space between them, wrapping his arms around her, whispering to her that it was over, that she was safe. Her knees gave out. He dropped to the ground with her.

Owen ran to Kiki, calling her name, touching her face, taking her pulse, whispering to her until her eyelids fluttered, and she stirred.

Kat clung to Dillon, his shirt fisted in her hands. “I called my father. Someone will be here soon. They’ll know what to do.”

Dillon frowned. “Your father? How …”

“He’s yakuza.”

His eyes widened, and he leaned back to meet her gaze. “As in Japanese Mafia?”

Kat nodded.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed. “Did you know?” he asked Owen, who rocked Kiki.

Owen nodded once, solemnly.

He looked back to Kat. “Are you hurt?” The words were soft. His hands were on her face, inspecting her.

She rested her hand on his. “I’m all right. You … you saved us.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I hurt you. He found you. You’re safe. You’re safe. His voice broke, his thumb on her cheek.

With shining eyes, she said, “Me too. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

“I hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you, not ever.” A shaky whisper.

A tear from her eye.

“I know,” she breathed with forgiveness. “I know,” she whispered in thanks.

And then she kissed him, offering the absolution he’d wished for.

Ares’s head was in his hands, back against the wall, sitting in the wreckage of the room.

Game over.

Ares had lost. He realized he’d known all along that it was inevitable, ignoring the truth, as he always did, thinking he was above it, beyond it.

His anger had burned down to smoldering ashes, and he sat around the ruin and counted his losses, one by one.

The elevator doors opened, and one of those losses walked through them.

Dita’s eyes were bloodshot, her face tight, eyes sharp and cold as ice. Her arms wrapped around her middle as if to protect herself, and when she took a breath, it shuddered, trembling through her like a leaf against the wind.

She was afraid.

She should be afraid.

Heff walked up behind her, his limp controlled, as if he was trying to hide it from Ares. He postured himself, arms folded and body tight, a silent threat. The blaze in his eyes held a promise to implement that threat.

Dita let herself go, straightening up, looking down her nose at him, just like she always loved to.

“I just wanted to tell you,” she said with a wavering voice and eyes hard with hatred, “you cannot stop me. You will never stop me. You’ll never beat me. And you will never touch me again, under any context.” Another breath, this one steadier, as she closed her eyes. “Our bond is broken.” Her voice grew, too loud, too strong, a wind summoned and whipping. “Betrayal has severed the tie once made of love. It ends in hate. Never will it be mended, not as long as there are stars in the sky. Not in this life or the next. Of that, I promise you.”

The wind died down, her eyes opening, the incantation complete.

Perhaps she felt different, but he did not, no tug or pull, no shift between them. And she could promise for eternity; it would not change the truth.

She was his. He was hers. And he would show her.

For a long moment, she stood before him, their eyes connected. And then she turned and walked away.

But Heff did not.

“I will say this once and once only,” he said, his voice the calm center of a hurricane. “Should you ever lay a finger on her, I will hurt you. I will hurt you in ways you can’t imagine until you beg for Tartarus. Never again, Ares. Never will you hurt her. And if you do, no one will save you from me.”

His blue eyes cut into Ares for a long moment, brother to brother, and he knew Heff meant every word.

And then his brother was gone, and he was alone once more.

Ares opened his palm, the medallion resting there, black and white, the cool weight so familiar. He traced the knot from the mouth of one snake to the mouth of the other and closed his fist again.

The muscles in his jaw flexed with his arm, lip curling as he pulled back and threw it as hard as he could through the gaping window. And then he closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall, his wrists hanging on his knees as the cold night breeze ruffled his hair.

And he knew he’d lost it all.

But he’d be damned if he gave up.