Chapter Twenty-Five

Lindsay had me pinned on the floor—again.

Jasper watched from a stool in the corner. Hector joined him eventually. The two whispered conspiratorially and I tried not to pay then any attention.

"I told you to come back when you were ready to learn something. You're worse at this than yesterday, if that's even possible. It's like you're not even trying to beat me anymore. What are you gonna do in battle, lay down and let Zeus smite you?" She pushed her weight down on my abdomen, holding one arm across my chest while the other was busy holding her body over mine. My body was twisted underneath her uncomfortably but she didn't seem to be moving any time soon.

Having been repeatedly tackled for an hour on top of little to no sleep the night before was not my idea of a good time. Twice I imagined myself bursting into flames to ward off Lindsay's touch and we were both disappointed all three times I tried to bring out the Fury. Pinned to the floor under her strength was the only time I wished the more experienced Fury would just take the job and leave me alone.

But, I reminded myself, I had something she didn't. If it would ever come out and play.

"No need to lecture me, Lindsay. I know I'm no good at this," I sighed.

Headlines read out: Word vomit strikes again!

"Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Don't you understand the honor and privilege you've been given? Not only are you getting to head the battle to end all battles but you get to be the right hand of Hades himself!" If she wanted a reaction from me, she didn't wait for it. Lindsay plowed on. "Besides, you aren't the only Fury who could fill the position. Believe me, baby sister, I was to be commander before you entered the picture. Your discovery got me bumped from first in line to second; I once was the Fury savior to the armies of the Underworld and now I am simply your teacher. If only Daddy dearest could see me now."

Baby sister?

"Hold the phone; what are you talking about?"

"Oops, you didn't know?" Lindsay feigned innocence. The creepy three-fold voice of the Fates rang in the back of my head, seventh child of the seventh generation after the Fury sisters went into hiding. "My daddy and your daddy are one in the same. Did you think you were the only daughter he had? When you found out about your heritage, did you think you were that special, that you were the only one? Pathetic! He knew about the prophecy of the Fates and he wanted to be the one to sire that prophecy. He ditched you to try again, just like he did to me and countless others."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. What do you mean my father left?" She must have had extra bitch with her breakfast cereal. My dad was at home, with Mom. Or was he—had he left, as Lindsay suggested? And home was... where?

I couldn't conjure a memory of my mother's face.

Something wasn't right—more than wrong, something was missing. I couldn't remember home. I couldn't remember my parents or my friends or the last movie I'd seen. Nothing; no memories catalogued in my brain.

Just like that, I knew: I hadn't been remembering important details for a while now. They were just gone, and until this point, it hadn't bothered me that I couldn't remember my family or my childhood. Nothing mattered before Hector.

My breath came in short bursts, made all the more difficult with Lindsay's weight on my chest.

Lindsay was growling at me. "What is wrong with you?"

As if on cue, Hector came into my field of vision from across the room. I didn't have the brain capacity to be horrified that he may have watched Lindsay best me over and over again. Had he been there all morning?

"Hector, get her off me. Tell me she's lying. And—Hector?" But Hector wasn't even looking at me. He had Lindsay pierced with a fiery stare. Whatever Jasper had given him definitely worked: the old Hector was back with a vengeance.

I looked at Hector, who glared at Lindsay, who was watching me, and that's when Lindsay slapped me across the face. The sound echoed off of the hard glass walls.

"What the hell!?"

"How dare you speak to Hades that way! No one orders the Lord of the Underworld around—especially not you, a good-for-nothing half-blood—"

"Hey, he brought me here, I didn't ask for this. Get—" I shoved her in the chest, avoiding the ample cleavage hanging over me, "—off."

Lindsay rolled off of my stomach, tired of my pushing. "Half-breed cretins don't speak as such to their superiors. Go again."

Maybe Lindsay had forgotten that she was a half-breed herself. Without any more warning, she lunged at me. Hector, still silent, pushed me out of the way and Lindsay tore open his shirt with her clawed hand. Catching myself, I spun a sloppy kick. Lindsay, focused on Hector with horror in her eyes, received a stomach-full of my shoe. A gasp emerged from her lips as she hit the mat underneath us.

How's that for trying?

I was all out of panic, all out of humor, and all out of good will. Somehow I'd allowed myself to be brainwashed into forgetting that I wanted to go home. Moments ago, I had felt fear trickling through my body. The fear gave way to emptiness as soon as Lindsay attacked.

"And so the student surpasses the master," I mumbled, unable to be ecstatic about my stroke of dumb luck for all of the questions stuck in my throat. My feet carried me away from her but my brain barely registered any movement at all. The distraction of a life I couldn't remember got the better of me: I never saw her coming.

A red streak shot through my field of vision and ensnared my left bicep with burning claws. Lindsay's hand gripped the hilt of the whip now wrapped around my arm. The leather held me tighter as she yanked it and I fell, letting her drag me on my back in her direction. I groped at it, wriggling as I was pulled back to the middle of the padded floor. The material reduced my flesh to fire where it touched me and the more I struggled with it, the more it burned.

"Weapons to Tuesday, remember? It's—" I stifled a cry at the growing pain that spread through my arm and crept into my shoulder, "—Wednesday, bitch."

I wanted to cry. Oh gods, let it end; make it stop.

The whip went slack, the vice-like grip on my arm loosened; I scrambled away from the leather—which looked like harmless strings rather than fiery ropes—and stood. Hector put himself between me and Lindsay, facing her. His back was rigid as he stared down at her.

"This will not help your case, Fury, and will not make me charitable towards your plea." The words were low, dangerous.

Lindsay scoffed but there was fear in her eyes. Her wings trembled ever so slightly.

"You have one purpose: training my Fury. You have one goal and should you fail there are several pits in Tartarus that would welcome your company." Finished admonishing her, Hector calmly dismissed Lindsay using a flick of his hand.

The Fury melted into the face I had come to loathe and Lindsay walked quickly out of the room.

My arms crossed tightly over my chest, the fire that had encased my flesh now just a dull ache. "Shouldn't you be off gathering soldiers for your army or something?" I mumbled. Louder I asserted, "I didn't ask you to save me."

He raised one eyebrow at me. "I wasn't saving you; I simply stopped Lindsay before she could break you. I like my Furies with both arms intact."

"You can take your sarcasm and shove—where are you going?"

Apparently uninterested in my anger, Hector had already turned away from me to effectively end the conversation.

But I wasn't done talking.

I rushed him, aiming for the back of his head. He ducked effortlessly, the mirrors giving me away. I spun around to attack again; he, facing me once again, flipped me over using my own speed. Pushing myself up to one knee and still rising I landed a punch in his gut—well, I tried to. He caught my fist and pushed against it.

Useless; there was no way I could hit him, not solidly, not satisfactorily. He blocked another hit and I bounced on the mat. He could see each one of my attacks before they came, before I even knew them.

Apparently I advertise every move before I make it; knowing that he could read me so well only aggravated me more.

"I want to know why." I struck. He ducked away again. He had yet to strike me back; all he did was block and duck away from my advances. "All you've done is dance around the questions. I demand to know—" hit and miss,

"—what's happening—" another miss,

"—to me!"

The transformation finally took over my body. I saw red and the room was on fire, but it didn't hurt. No, not the whole room; just me. I was on fire, on the inside. I growled but the sound was inhuman, so unlike what I had expected to hear. The sound died in my throat. My nails cut into my palms in my fists; the flesh on my hands was no longer a pale shade but tinted ever-so-slightly red. The color wound its way up my arm, fading from crimson at my fingernails into a normal skin tone at my elbows. I opened my fists, scared of myself—scared for myself. The redness faded.

If I couldn't hold onto the Fury how was I ever going to get her to manifest? The Fury came out in me enough to give others pause but never stayed long enough to help me understand. And when that part of me was hidden away, I felt even more powerless. I felt human.

"What is wrong with me?" My voice shook but my resolve didn't. Without waiting for a response, I landed an open-palmed hit on Hector's unsuspecting chest.

Looks like I win.

But Lindsay was right; I didn't have control and whatever my heritage, whatever I was, frightened me. Frightened me all the more for being related to Lindsay and whatever kind of monster brood she must be a part of.

Hector caught my attention. "You have to start thinking less and doing more. Just now, you barely thought about what you were doing; your fear and determination took over and pushed you to do something you've done only accidentally until this point. I brought Lindsay here to help you learn how to bring out the Fury voluntarily but you need to let her help." His voice was soft, gently reassuring. "Get frustrated; hate her, for all I care. But don't allow her to make you cocky. I need you, Hades needs you. Like it or not you are part of this war."

"I don't want to do this anymore, Hector!" I hadn't meant for it to be a scream. All I wanted to do was sink my fist into his face. Nothing could have made me happier. "I feel like I'm not fighting for anything real—none of this is real. I want it to be over so I can go home."

But what would I go home to? I didn't even remember home. That realization was a crushing weight on my heart. Twenty minutes ago, I didn't mind that I had no idea where I came from but the rose colored glasses had been knocked from my face and shattered by a heartless Fury.

"I am not in a position to renegotiate our original deal. However, I can help you understand your part in this. You are not the same person you were a week ago, you are stronger and faster and much more powerful. The old you couldn't even imagine being this incredibly powerful."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about!" The longer I stayed the longer I wanted to; Hector was banking on my acquiescence to stick around and be his pet Fury forever. Unacceptable. "It took Lindsay of all people asking why I don't remember anything about myself for me to realize that something was wrong in the first place. What if I want to be 'the same'? I don't even remember what that means!"

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

After an antagonizing silence that filled the room near to bursting, Hector said, "Perhaps it is time for a break."

He offered me his arm, as was his annoying chivalrous habit. I took it, my hands pale and human once again. We walked out of the room, down the hallway, and to the portal. Beyond my apartment I had only seen the training room, the prison below us, and the river.

Where to next, Hector?