Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“I don’t care.” She takes a step back and props her hands on her hips. “Why are you suddenly saying we should leave?”
“We’re not getting anywhere, aside from that lucky find with the laptop. At this point, I’d be better spent back in the city center, working with Hector to go through all that information. I’m useless here. I don’t know what game Minos is playing at, and he’s laughing himself silly because he has us playing parlor games.” Saying it aloud feels like almost too much. I’m so frustrated, I could throw something. “More, we’ve been warned twice now about your presence here. At least one person might be missing and that’s enough for me to get you out of here now that we have something to show for all this.”
“That wasn’t an accident.” Her gaze is focused on somewhere in the middle distance. “The laptop and the emails. Did you catch what she said? That she was right about you.”
I shrug. “I have a reputation. It doesn’t mean much.”
“Apollo, you are too innocent sometimes.” She shakes her head. “I bet we’re going to find exactly what we’re looking for in those emails, and I would bet Alexandra’s college fund that Ariadne knows that.”
That stops me short. “You think she’s working against her father?”
“It’s possible.” Cassandra frowns. “Or it’s a double bluff and he put her up to this, but Minos doesn’t give the vibe of someone who puts a lot of value on people he considers soft, and Ariadne is soft right down to her sunny center.”
It always amazes me how she can make these jumps. I can usually reach the same conclusion, but it takes me a lot longer—and a lot more second-guessing myself—to get there. “If that’s true…”
Excitement lights up her dark eyes. “We could have someone on the inside, or at the very least, if we could flip her to our side, we’d have an inside track to more information.”
“Which means we can’t leave.” Up until this party, Minos kept Ariadne away from the public eye, and I don’t expect that to change going forward. We won’t have access to her again, not if we leave now. “We’ll have to—”
In the distance, someone screams.
I freeze. “Did I just—”
“Yes.” Cassandra starts for the door. “That was a scream. It sounded like Eurydice.”
I snag her wrist. “Stay here.” If there’s danger, I want her as far from it as possible. “Or, better yet, go to our room and lock yourself in.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m not coming with you.” She jerks her wrist from my grip. “Are you going to keep wasting time arguing, or are you coming?”
She’s right. We don’t have time to waste. “Stay close.” I lead the way through the door into the hall. Already, voices are raised somewhere in the distance. Downstairs. “Come on.”
We find Eurydice and Charon in the library. At first, I don’t see what the problem is, but then Charon wraps an arm around her shoulder and steps back, revealing the body of Pan. He lies on his stomach, blood pooling the carpet beneath him. “Oh no.”
Tears pour from Eurydice’s eyes and she allows Charon to pull her into his arms and tuck her face against his chest. “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know.” He looks at me over her head. “We were waiting in the parlor after we were found by Theseus and came in here when we heard a crash.”
“Did you see anything?”
“No.”
Cassandra pushes past me and moves to kneel next to Pan, careful to avoid the blood. Before I can say a word, she presses her fingers to his throat. A few seconds tick by. She looks up sharply. “He’s still alive.”
Just like that, this situation becomes vastly different. “Charon, call an ambulance. Now!”
He pauses long enough to guide Eurydice to a chair just out of the way—and out of sight lines to Pan—and then rushes out of the room. I join Cassandra at Pan’s side. “Do we move him onto his back?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “There could be a spinal injury. We can’t move him until the paramedics arrive. They’ll know what to do.”
I stare down at the man. “What was he doing in here? I thought he went out the front door.”
“He must have circled back.”
It doesn’t matter why he’s here, only that he is. I sit back on my heels and look around. We explored the library briefly this morning, but it’s just like every other personal library I’ve visited. It’s relatively subdued compared to the rest of the house, a reasonably sized room with dark bookshelves and several cozy overstuffed couches arranged around a large bay window. It’s probably a lovely place to spend an afternoon.
There’s also nothing sharp to accidentally stumble and fall against. Not to mention Pan’s wound is on the back of his head, as if someone clubbed him when he wasn’t looking. But what…