“Helen,” Chloe said, her voice carrying above the murmurs, “I’m so sorry.” Sympathy tinged her words rather than guilt.

  The demon taking the first aid kit and kneeling next to an injured dryad seemed to help with the mumbling, and Helen moved toward Chloe, her feelings wound as tightly as tangled gold chains.

  “The nereids told me a little. We came to help.”

  “Where are your friends?”

  Chloe swallowed hard. “On the boat.”

  One sliver of good fortune. “Come with me.” Helen led her into the trees, away from any mounting anger and leaving it to Psamathe to explain Chloe’s presence to the Sphinx.

  “They didn’t tell me much. One of them woke us up, and we came as quickly as we could. Are you all right?” Her words were rushed, one hardly over before the next began, her southern accent mashing them all together.

  “No, none of us is all right. Neither are you. Humans did this while I was on a wild-goose chase crafted by more humans, and still, you came here.” She gritted her teeth and tried to keep her tears at bay, not knowing if she was grateful or appalled. She expected Chloe to deny, defend, cast aspersions in kind, and then she’d…she’d…

  “I’m so sorry, Helen. How can I help? I’ll do whatever you need.” Her eyes seemed lit up, even in the dark. “We could get more supplies from another port. We could patrol around the island or try to trace the assholes responsible for this. We could…whatever you want.” Her arms came forward as if to offer an embrace.

  How did she know how to say all the right things? From anyone else, it might have seemed calculated, but the word genuine popped into Helen’s mind again. What Chloe said was what there was.

  Helen pulled her into a hug, delighting in the magical hum and resting her cheek against Chloe’s soft curls. She let in a modicum of comfort, just a token, just for now.

  Chloe’s arms went around her waist and rubbed her back in soothing strokes. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out,” she said into Helen’s shoulder.

  Tempted to stay in those arms and let the tears come, Helen straightened, remembering that Chloe was never alone for long. Helen wouldn’t be, either, not when the others had seen her go off with a human. “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe for anyone.”

  Chloe nodded softly. “I understand. Quick, though, tell me what happened.”

  Helen relayed what she knew, forcing herself to be distant from it, as if she was summarizing a novel. Chloe nodded, swiping at the tears Helen couldn’t let herself shed, her determined expression saying she’d forget nothing.

  Helen captured her hand when her tale ended. “I wish you could stay.”

  “Me too.”

  “Find out who did this. I don’t think they were expecting you on that island, ghost-trap or not. They may not expect you now.” It shamed her to ask for help, but she told herself not to be so precious. The sanctuary needed all the help it could get, and Helen couldn’t lose herself in any feelings, tender or prideful. Rage was the only thing that would help her now.

  Chloe nodded, fierceness showing through her sympathy. “Don’t worry. We’ll smoke these fuckers out if we have to.” Her blush shone even in the dim light from the lagoon. “Sorry.”

  “Your vehemence is appreciated. Wait here.”

  When Helen returned to the lagoon, the demon, Damian—“my mom’s a movie fanatic”—seemed content to stay and help. Though his power couldn’t enthrall the sanctuary’s residents, they seemed to find his aura comforting. Helen gave him a grateful nod, then turned to lead Chloe and Ramses back to the shore.

  Eudore waited by the small craft that would carry Chloe to the larger boat bobbing on the water.

  “The Kareems’ yacht has all the bells and whistles,” Chloe said. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to keep watch for you through the night. And their alarms are loud enough for the devil to hear.” She handed Helen a walkie-talkie. “Fatma said channel two would reach her, reach me.”

  Good. Helen didn’t want to speak to anyone else. “If you find the whereabouts of those responsible—”

  “When we find them.”

  Helen ducked her head and smiled, even though the lead weight of grief still hung around her shoulders, and she had to fight them both. “Don’t go after them on your own. I need to be there. I will be there.”

  Chloe nodded. “I hear that. You didn’t think I’d try to argue, did you?”

  “Everyone else seems to object when I put myself in danger.”

  “Welcome to the club. So long as you let me come with you into the danger, you won’t get a fight out of me.” She shrugged. “Until we face the danger, of course.”

  Helen’s first instinct was to object, but how could she after what Chloe had just said? “Thank you.”

  They stared at one another, a comfortable silence instead of an awkward one. So rare.

  “Um,” Eudore said from the water. “I think you’d better get back. That one woman keeps trying to jump in the water, and I don’t know how much longer the others can hold her.”

  Chloe squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Mom,” she mumbled. She snatched the walkie-talkie, thumbed it on, said, “I’m coming back now,” and turned it off just as an angry squawk sounded from the other end. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Be careful.” Helen didn’t know what she’d do if something happened to anyone else she cared about.

  “You too.”

  After another long look, Chloe stepped into the boat and was lost to the shadows among the waves.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  When Chloe reached the boat again, she realized she didn’t have much to go on. The intruders sounded similar to the thugs at the wild-goose chase island, but even Helen’s info was secondhand. Chloe hadn’t been able to talk to anyone actually present during the attack.

  Not that she’d wanted to try. When she’d stood in that clearing, she’d felt the hatred seeping out of the ground. In her own encounters, she’d never fought an intelligent creature. That she knew of. How many of her ancestors or her mother and friends had left grief and anger like that in their wake?

  Ramses was quiet, too, and when they reached the yacht again, Chloe could even tune out her mom, waiting to talk until everyone sat below except for Ali at the yacht’s controls.

  “I didn’t see much of the sanctuary itself,” Chloe said. “It was dark.” She tried to marshal her thoughts and untangle them from her feelings. “The people who brought us here are called nereids, and Helen described returning to find the bodies of friends and family after a brutal attack. The survivors are pretty banged up.” She sipped water and realized her hands were shaking. “Helen thinks someone lured her away on purpose, then attacked.”

  She looked at her mom but couldn’t stop seeing bruised and bandaged faces half in moonlight, hatred or terror in their eyes while she choked on the stink of smoke and blood and fear.

  Her mom squeezed her shoulder. “I never should have let you go alone.”

  Chloe surged to her feet. “This isn’t about me, about any of us.” Her voice kept rising, but she couldn’t stop it. “We have to find out who did this and make sure they can never do it again.” No matter what that took.

  Her mom and Jillian talked over one another to disagree, but Fatma was staring with admiration or approval, and Chloe knew she had at least two allies in this.

  Three counting Ramses. He gave her a proud smile, and she could take on the world.

  “Where do we start looking?” Chloe asked over the protests. Funny how her childhood insecurities fell away when she knew she was right. Or maybe that was partly down to how tired she was.

  “I’ll make some calls,” Fatma said before jogging upstairs.

  “You can’t be serious,” Chloe’s mom said.

  Jillian touched her arm but aimed her words at Chloe. “Hon, I know what you saw scared you, but think this through.”

  Chloe wasn’t even put off by the heap of condescension. “I have.”

  “Damian and I were looking at some of Ali’s sea charts earlier,” David said. He stared at the ceiling, his problem-loving wheels obviously turning. “If he can get some information about what kind of vehicles the attackers arrived in, I might be able to figure out where they came from.” He seemed to notice Jillian’s stare for the first time. “What?”

  “Just how much time have you been spending in the company of that demon?”

  He tsked. “Mind your own business, and come help me.” He practically dragged her up the stairs.

  Chloe’s mom was looking at her as if they were strangers, a gut punch if there ever was one. Chloe wished she could lean into Ramses, so relieved he had her back.

  “Ramses, please give us a minute alone,” her mom said.

  Well, so much for that.

  Of course, she could always lie and say he’d left but wasn’t sure he’d like that. “It’s okay,” she said when he hesitated. “Best get this over with.”

  Her mom tilted her head, and Chloe caught a glimpse of why her enemies feared her.

  “Sorry,” Chloe mumbled as Ramses walked through the wall into one of the cabins. “I’m tired.”

  “And not thinking clearly. That I understand.”

  “Mom—”

  “This is not our fight, Chloe.”

  “Just listen—”

  “After a good night’s sleep and a hot meal, you’ll see—”

  “I’m not a goddamned child.” No matter that she was yelling like one, but just like earlier, she had lost control of her volume.

  Her mom crossed her arms, an immovable wall. “If we get in the fight over this island, we should get in on the other side.”

  Chloe went cold and felt the weight of generations in that stare. Who was she to say their ancestors had gone too far, to criticize them for not stopping their crusade at only those creatures who were still hurting people? She was nothing but an upstart, a novice in a long chain of knights forged in blood and sweat.

  God, she wanted to call Ramses back so badly.

  No, fuck that. She squeezed her hands into fists. “I know what I’m—”

  “Jamie would have understood.”

  The world fell away. Chloe’s stomach became a black pit full of every doubt, every mean thought she’d ever had about herself. It was all true. Tears bubbled inside her like a hot spring.

  Her mom’s steady stare waited for an apology.

  Just like Helen and her people were waiting for help.

  And she was the one with the power.

  A new feeling rose in Chloe’s chest, overtaking the tears and swamping them. It filled her limbs like the strength of the magic helmet, and a silvery glow tinted her vision.

  Her mom took a step back, eyes wide. “Chloe…you’re glowing.”

  That seemed only right. “I’m a fucking superhero, Mom, and it’s time I acted like it. Screw what the world finds out. If humanity decides to come after supernatural people, well, I know where they can go for sanctuary, and I know who’s gonna protect them.” She stabbed herself in the chest with her thumb, just in case there was any doubt left in her mom’s mind.

  Still, the tears were coming. She had to get out of there.

  But not before one more thing. “I’m not siding with anyone who hurts people like that.” She pointed confidently in the direction of the sanctuary as if she could feel it through the wall. “I’m not Jamie, and I never will be, and you don’t know that she wouldn’t feel the same as me.”

  Her mom’s face twisted in disbelief.

  Chloe didn’t stick around to hear any more. She barely made it into the cabin where Ramses waited before she collapsed, more tired than she’d ever been. Her mother’s words still echoed in her ears despite her bravado. She opened her arms, and Ramses stepped into her without being asked, and she couldn’t even feel guilty about needing someone else to take the wheel for a while.

  He got them up off the floor. “Families of gods have to support one another.”

  Not always, it seemed. “Am I doing the right thing?”

  “Your godhood rose, so you must be doing something right.”

  She couldn’t even be that surprised. “Was that what that was? I’m hollow and nauseated, like I ran ten miles after eating a gallon of mashed potatoes.”

  “Now that it’s manifested, you have to learn to save that power for when you really need it.”

  She had needed it. Saving it from now on was no problem; she had no idea how she’d called it in the first place. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Chloe—”

  “I know you’ll always support me, but if you think I’m doing the wrong thing, you have to say.”

  “I—”

  “Because godhood or not, I’ll need your help and love, and…she said Jamie’s name, Ramses, she actually fucking said it.” If she’d been in charge of the body, she’d have been wheezing like a steam engine, all her feelings on the boil. “I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Finished? Because I never doubt that you’ll do the right thing, especially when you take the time to think it through. Like you clearly have now.”

  “I know, right? Why can’t Mom see—”

  “No, it’s my turn to talk.” He sighed. “Helen made an offer to free me.” The word had enough contempt to sink a freighter.

  “What the hell?” Maybe it made sense on one hand; Helen helped paranormal people in trouble. But on the other hand was really annoyed. “How dare she—”

  “It’s still my turn.”

  Chloe hoped he could feel her look.

  “She offered to get me around Anubis and into the underworld to see my family.”

  “Holy shit.” His beloved Nefertari and the rest of his wives? His oodles of kids and grandkids and so on? The multitudes who’d worshiped him as a god king? “Maybe you—”

  “It’s still my turn.”

  The hordes who knew he could be kind of an ass?

  “I heard that. Anyway, I didn’t even consider it, Chlo, not really. I didn’t outright reject it because I just wanted her to stop talking. All I could think about was your ancestors, your mom, you. You’re alive. You have to grow, change, adapt, and I want to be here for you and tell everyone who comes after you how amazing you are. Eternity can wait.”

  If she’d been in charge of the body, the tears would have been choking, wet, and snotty. “Love you, too.” She took a second to feel his love and share hers. “Can I talk now?”

  “No. All that being said, I still have to answer your question. Yes, I think you’re doing the right thing.”

  She sputtered a laugh. “You took forever to get there.”

  “Shut up and pull yourself together. The superhero does not burst into tears on the eve of teaming up with her lady love to save the day.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Helen forced herself to listen to each and every story about what had happened, even if most sounded the same. She was looking for clues the victims might not even realize they knew, but reliving the trauma also felt like her just desserts for not being there to suffer with them.

  When the Sphinx finally forced her to get some sleep, laying one large paw across her legs so she couldn’t move, she dreamed of unknown terrors in the dark and stirred at every cry from the wounded. No one else on the sanctuary had wanted to return home, so after feeding the more animal-like residents in their enclosures, everyone else bedded down near the lagoon.

  She woke with a start to find dawn had already broken. The Sphinx’s paw still lay across her, and she appeared to be asleep. Helen was loath to wake her, but now that the sun was up…

  With a sigh, she felt around her for the walkie-talkie. She needed to think of something to tell Chloe. She needed to go home to change. Selfishly, she hoped someone else had cleared the bodies from her house. Where to keep the corpses: another thing she had to plan, as well as thinking up memorials for them. Some came from cultures that buried their dead; some would have wanted to be cremated or interred in stone. For others, she had no idea, and shame spiraled through her anew.

  And where had the fucking walkie-talkie gone?

  The Sphinx’s paw shifted as she opened her tired eyes. “If you’re looking for the walkie, Damian took it.”

  A thousand nefarious reasons came to mind. Helen hadn’t known many demons, but their reputations—

  She made herself breathe. She’d long ago ceased judging people by their pasts, shortly after “of Troy” had seemingly become part of her name.

  Chloe had never mentioned that accursed city, another point in her favor. Helen shook her head, trying to arrange her tired mind. “Did he mention why?”

  “He was asking about the ships that the bastards who attacked us landed in. He said Chloe was trying to find out where they might have come from.”

  Helen ran a hand down her face and pulled her knees to her chin. She’d thought every sound had awakened her last night, but apparently, she’d slept through a lot.

  “And our yacht came back. A few residents managed to use it to flee from the attack.”

  “Thank the gods.” She could happily cross those names off the list of the missing. The happy news gave her the energy to stand. “I need to get changed, then organize a…morgue.”

  “Already done. The Lamia’s crypt.”

  Seemed fitting. “How much did I sleep through?”

  “You might have been under the influence of Hypnos’s Poppy.”

  A rather ugly potted plant blessed by the god of sleep. “You didn’t.” She clenched her fists.