Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
The bathroom is lovely, decorated in the same cool gray tones, but what catches and holds my attention is the door I can see peeking through the clothes in his closet though a second archway. “Thank the gods.” I hurry to it and shove the clothes to the side. It’s fancier than any emergency exit has a right to be—and it’s locked. “Shit.”
I turn around, panic flaring, and stop short. Dionysus obviously never expected anyone to come in here, because the key for the door hangs on a hook tucked right inside the archway. “Fuck the gods; thank you, Dionysus.”
I grab the key, but my hands are shaking so much, I can barely fit it into the lock. I just manage to slide it home when, in the distance, I hear the front door crack open.
Phaedra is here.
As if thinking their name summoned them, their melodious voice rings out. “Ariadne. I know you’re here, love. I have no interest in hide-and-seek. Your father would like a word.”
I bet he would. But if they think dangling my father’s orders in front of me is going to do anything but cause me to flee, they have another think coming.
I turn the key as silently as I can. The penthouse is large, but it’s not that large. I’d expect Phaedra to systematically clear the space, which means they’ll reach the primary bedroom last. That only means the difference of a few minutes, but it’s all I have. There’s no time to go back to lock the bedroom door. It won’t slow them down much anyway.
Bless Dionysus or whoever maintains the door, because it opens soundlessly on greased hinges. I slip into the dim stairwell and ease it shut behind me. There’s a lock on this side, too. I’ve never seen that before in an emergency exit door, but then I’ve never seen one that leads directly into the bedroom of a penthouse. I force my hand steady and lock the door behind me.
If I’m lucky, Phaedra will assume that I slipped out without them realizing it. If I’m not, they’ll simply be waiting for me on the ground floor when I finally make my way down this narrow stairwell. And it is narrow. It’s nothing like the wide public one. There are no cameras in here, either.
In fact, as I descend flight after flight, I realize there are no other doors in here to the other floors. Which means this isn’t an emergency exit for the entire building—only for Dionysus.
I send a quick text to Asterion telling him that I had to leave the apartment and then I’ll meet him when he gets close. He doesn’t answer, and the text doesn’t switch over from delivered to read. Worry worms through me. He’s okay. He has to be. But I can’t spend any energy worrying about him right now. My own life is in danger.
I force myself to listen over the pounding of my heart as I descend the stairwell. Dionysus living on the top floor meant great things for the defensiveness of his penthouse, at least in theory. It also means that I have dozens of flights to conquer. If Phaedra comes through that door at the top of the stairs, I’m fucked.
Worst of all, I have to keep pacing myself, because my thighs are shaking and my breath is harsh daggers in my lungs. And still, Asterion doesn’t text me back.
Halfway down, I pause to catch my breath, and guilt has me texting Dionysus a warning. He’s not the target, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t end up as a casualty. He’s taken great care with me, and he might be one of the Thirteen, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be cut down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally, he doesn’t respond to my text, either. Because of course not.
I nearly weep at the sight of the door that leads out of the stairwell. It has another lock that I assume matches the key in my hand. It’s tempting to unlock it and run for my life, but I force myself to sit down and pull out my laptop. I have a pretty good idea where the stairwell leads—to an exit on the north side of the block—but there’s no reason to get sloppy now. The lack of cameras in the stairwell suggests there should be a lock on the exit, but if there’s not, I’m practically jumping around and waving my arms until someone notices me.
Not to mention I just pushed myself to the edge of exhaustion coming down the stairs. I’m not going to be able to outrun anyone in this state. I’m in the process of pulling up the security feeds when my phone buzzes at my hip.
Asterion: We’re a block north. Where are you?