7 5| Athena

"I swear, if I spend one more second in this house, I'm gonna scream," I growled, swinging at the punching bag Sebastian installed my second day locked in his house. While I understood his worry about me (because no one could be more worried about my impending death to some slag of a demon than me), I did not understand why he couldn't realize I would lose my entire mind being in here all day, every day.

There was no class for me, at least not without him right behind me. I could barely go to the bathroom or take a shower without hearing him pacing out the door.

He was able to go where he wanted, though, and, because no one but the two of us could enter the house without my permission or his, he made me stay here. Meanwhile, he went to New Orleans and had huge alcoholic beverages and ate beignets while I alternated between binge-watching another TV show and practicing different steps with the saber.

I couldn't even invite Hillary over—"She might get kidnapped on the way here, and a demon transforms into her, and you'll invite a demon into the house and get killed"—and Sebastian sure as hell didn't stay here long enough to talk to me. When he came over, I was usually sleeping, or, when I wasn't, he locked himself in his office or practice room to do "business," and I wasn't allowed in. The past five days had been isolated torture. At this point, I welcomed the demon.

Apparently, it was made to withstand punches from him, meaning my soft punches didn't so much as move the punching bag an inch.

Sighing in frustration, I repositioned myself—thankfully he "allowed" me to have my phone, which meant I could watch videos on proper stances since he couldn't be bothered to teach me that either—and started swinging again. I hit the punching bag quickly, pretending Sebastian's stupid face smiled at me.

It still didn't move a. Single. Inch. Downstairs, Sebastian announced his arrival with a slamming door.

I reached back and slammed my fist into the punching bag.

Again, nothing.

"Athena?" he called gruffly. If he was so tired, he should stay in and sleep instead of going off to do God knows what because I really doubted he was ridding the world of demons for five days straight. A second later he appeared on side of me. He donned a quickly-healing cut on his face, black goo on his knuckles, and a few tears in his shirt. "You've been practicing—"

"Because there's nothing else to do," I interrupted, attempting to shove the bag. "Why doesn't this thing move?"

Sebastian arched an eyebrow, reaching over and pushing it to the side with two fingers and a smile. "It's not meant for you to—"

"Then, maybe," I interrupted again, giving him a dark look, "you should make it for me since I've been stuck in this house for—"

"You've been to class."

I didn't argue with him, not then. "Pick a weapon," I commanded, deciding to purge my anger through fighting. The last few rounds he had knocked me out in seconds, but the final time, I ended up actually getting a jab on him. "I have anger to dispel."

He reached over and grabbed a sword off the wall. "Why are you angry?" he asked, relaxing.

Saber in hand—for some reason, it called to me—I lunged at him. How could he not know he made me mad? Sebastian knew me almost as well as I knew myself. How could he not get it? How did he not understand that I was being smothered here? That I felt like a hostage, while he got to run around the world.

He countered my attack easily. The blades met with a sound that made me wince internally. "Fix your stance," Sebastian commanded, relaxed. He didn't think of me as a serious threat, and if anything, it pissed me off more. Simply because I wasn't a threat. I wasn't a stupid threat, and any demon could kill me if they wanted to. Staying here wasn't going to change that, and Sebastian should've known that. I could be attacked anywhere at any time. I wasn't powerful enough to even defend myself. "What's wrong, Athena ?"

Everything was wrong. It was either me or my cousin.

I tried to plan my feet, but he attacked. I swung the saber, twisting it around my head and meeting his sword. He made no noise but raised an eyebrow in approval. I pulled back, feigning left and swinging right. It slid against his sword, the metal on metal screeching.

<i>It has to be Clare</i>, I thought. I didn't want her to die, but if I had to choose between my life or hers, I would gladly give up my cousin. We hadn't talked in a year, and although that was no excuse to be selfish, I had so much to see in this world. Although, if given the chance, I would totally sacrifice my Uncle James for calling my dad crazy and stopping us from seeing each other; Clare was as innocent in all this as I was.

But guess who was crazy now, Uncle James?

"Athena?"

I swung my saber at him. Then I swung it again. I kept swinging, hitting him with attack after attack, our blades clashing and colliding like waves to the shore. I attacked without fixing my stance or position, just pushing forward. I moved with no thought, just anger. "Don't—talk—to—" I brought the saber over my head, anger sending vibrations through me. I felt my hands warm up around the hilt of the blade. It was fire in my hands. "—<i>Me!"</i> I yelled, swinging it down.

As usual, Sebastian met it, surprised. He quickly masked it, though. I pulled back, swinging once more. My calves had started to burn, too. "Why?" Sebastian asked, not even out of breath. He stopped countering me and started swinging. I ducked as he swung dangerously close to my neck—I knew he wouldn't actually hit me—and brought my saber at his knees. He jumped out of my way.

<i>Slide on the floor.</i> The thought came from nowhere. I followed the instructions, though. <i>Blade up—swing—counter his attack—stay steady—</i>

The directs seemed to flow through me, instinctual. He lunged, the sword coming down quickly. I met it, our blades perpendicular to each other. He grunted, pushing down on the blade. It would've snapped had it been a normal blade.

In fact, I should've snapped.

He grunted. My teeth clenched hard enough my jaw locked up. I gripped the scorching hot hilt with both hands, holding him in place. It was glued to my hands, or at least it felt that way because I couldn't let go.

"Stand down," Sebastian growled. His eyes narrowed into a look I didn't recognize. I had never seen it before, and I feared it. Apart of me wanted to stand down, let him win, but there was a much bigger part of me that screamed protests.

<i> Attack.</i>

I closed my eyes, gathering my strength, but I saw something, a quick flash—something big with white wings dipped in gold, holding a saber lit up in brilliant white light, yelling, a language I couldn't understand—before it disappeared. Instead of holding him off, I pushed back; I got to my knees and lifted myself up, pushing the entire time.

<i> Kill him.</i>

The words coursed through me, taking over every particle of my being. Kill him, kill him, kill him, it chanted. My skin screamed it. The blade screamed it. Only one thing stopped me, only one part of me wanted him alive—my stupid freaking heart. And, fortunately for him, it outweighed the other urges. I pushed myself harder. "No. You stand down," I growled, standing fully. I gave him a dark look.

<i>Make him submit.</i>

I was meant to be his superior.

"Athena—" Out of breath, he didn't finish his sentence. Success tingled against my skin. He gave one final push. I stood tall, the blades held toward my chest, his torso.

<i> Finish him.</i>

Yelling gave me one last thrust of energy. Eyes closed, I heard Sebastian grunt. A thud. The exploded around me, and I flew backward, the saber flying from my hands. I hit the wall, a soft pain sliding through my torso and hips. My hands cooled, and I opened my eyes and stretched, still on the ground.

Sebastian laid on the floor against the opposite wall. "Bash?" I asked, my voice carrying across the room. My saber laid a few feet away from me.

He looked over at me, eyebrows furrowed. "Athena, why don't you want me to talk to you?"

"Because you've been locking me up here every day. I know you let me go for classes, but I don't like being here every day all day by myself," I told him.

"It's not safe."

"No, it's not," I agreed. "But I need to do something besides go to classes." I had only seen Hillary because we had the same class. Other than that, we only texted. Although, a part of me questioned how much she cared for me because she didn't ask about my sudden unavailability, just raised her eyebrows in approval when I told her I was spending more time with Sebastian. She thought we were having wild, monkey sex day in and day out.

<i> I wish,</i> I thought, reflecting back to that moment on the stairs.

He ran his fingers through his dark hair. There were bags under his eyes. Demons needed the same things we did apparently: food, sleep, something to drink. Just in different portion sizes. "I know. I can't—I don't want you to get hurt," he responded, looking away.

I didn't push the issue or explain. We could talk about it later when I thought of a solution or some sort of compromise. "So. Food?" My stomach growled, emphasizing my point.

"We should go out to eat. What do you have a taste for?" He stood up, crossing the room toward me. I tried to hold on to my quickly fading irritation, but he was so hard to stay mad at.

I grabbed the hand he held out. "I want some shrimp quesadillas." I dusted my pants off, looking over at the mirrors he had installed yesterday so I could watch my form. I looked like a mess. I had left all my cute clothes in my dorm room. "I need to stop by my dorm first and get something cute to wear."

He frowned, picking up the saber and replacing it on the wall. "What's wrong with what you have on?"

My responding look was incredulous. "I look like a bum."

"You have demons after you, do you really have time for guys?"

Confused, I paused in the middle of the door, looking back at him. "Who said anything about guys? I just haven't been cute in a few days."

"Why else would you get cute?"

Well, actually, for him. Of course, not looking like a bum in public was a plus, but even when Sebastian wore sweats, he looked infinitely better than most men. In comparison, I looked like some old, cheap Easter candy, cracked and crusted. Couldn't deny that I also enjoyed the once-over scan he did when I looked good, too. "For you, duh," I responded, leaving the room before I could see his reaction—or non-reaction.

A guy stared at me from across the room, and even though it looked innocent enough, it made my skin hot. He arched an eyebrow, beckoning me forward.

Sebastian alternated between his phone and food. Sometimes he glanced behind me with a dark look. He acted preoccupied, keeping an eye and ear out for danger, while also tending to whatever important business he had on his phone. Besides the guy across the room, nobody else noticed me.

The guy possessed almost perfect features—square jaw, dark hair styled messily over his head, falling onto his forehead but not past his eyebrows, dark brown eyes that glittered mischievously, high cheekbones—that made them familiar. I caught his eye and grinned slightly.

"What're you smiling at?" Sebastian asked, giving me the rare amount of attention tonight.

The guy held a finger up, like he heard him. I looked back at Sebastian. "Someone caught me with cheese on my face," I explained, wiping my mouth off. I ate like a toddler when I was hungry, and my last bite of my quesadilla had given me a smear of melted cheese on the right corner of my mouth.

Sebastian studied me before reaching over and brushing the corner of my lip with the pad of his finger. "Did he catch you with the sour cream, too?" he teased with a smile. He returned to his phone before I could answer, fingers flying impossible fast over his keyboard. "Were you close with Clare?"

Clare. For a second, I experienced a brief pang of something akin to grief. Despite the passing of time between the last time we talked and now, I didn't want her dead. She was still family, and family I used to be close to her. "At some point, yeah."

When we were children, we used to build forts out of blankets in my room and eat popcorn while listening to the pop hits of the early 2000s. Outside, we tried "building" a safety fort of leaves and sticks, pulling roses off of bushes and putting them into the corner. We grew watermelons in a small patch behind her house on accident (we threw seeds down, and once they started sprouting, we threw everything we had into growing them). We sold lemonade in a cardboard sign that tasted horrible because we put salt instead of sugar by accident but still made enough money to buy what we needed for our "garden"—about fifteen feet of land we set a bunch of sticks around to keep out the animals.

We told ghost stories and recounted things about demons our grandmother told us. When we woke up with bad dreams, it was always to each other. I'd grab her hand and squeeze it, tell her that nobody would touch us because they couldn't. We created a world based on those stories from our grandmother—we weren't just Clare and Athena, the girls, but Clare and Athena, descendants of a line that possessed superpowers. We could save the world. So every time she woke up in sweats from bad dreams, or she didn't do so well in martial arts, I reminded her of Clare the Great (her superhero alias).

Until one night we both woke up screaming, thinking some demon who called herself "Mother" wanted to kill us. Our parents stopped our visits to our grandmother.

As time with on, Dad told us the stories since Grandmother no longer could. As Dad became "crazier," and more hellbent on teaching us physical skills, Uncle James pulled Clare away. After that, I never saw Clare again. We weren't invited to family functions, and even if we were, Dad stopped going because he didn't like how everybody talked about me. Not that I noticed.

"What happened?" Sebastian asked, putting his phone down.

I shrugged, taking another bite of my quesadilla. How did I explain all that? That our parents pulled us apart because of what they thought was fake, when, in reality, it turned out to be true.

"Stuff, I guess. She moved away." Which was true, but we had stopped being close a year or two before she moved.

"Hm. Would you be sad if she died?"

"Yeah, but if it was me or her, I'm choosing her every time." I wouldn't die for anyone honestly. At most, I might take a slight bullet for Sebastian. Call me selfish, but I was no hero.

He didn't ask anything else.

I finished the rest of my quesadilla, glancing toward the guy. He had finished his drink, and now he was on his second one. His untouched nachos had to be cold by now. He winked at me. I had the feeling I didn't need a guy like him in my life.

Sebastian tapped his fingers on the table. After a second, they paused, and he tensed. "Excuse me for one second, Tina," he muttered, not sparing a second glance at me.

I arched an eyebrow. After holing me up in a house for half of a week and being super overbearing, he was leaving me alone? In public? I released a deep breath.

Time to do something reckless, I thought with nothing to get into. I couldn't very well leave the table since we hadn't paid yet. Sebastian would find me if I tried to run. If one of Mother's demons didn't find me first.

I started on another quesadilla, looked toward the guy, and saw he was missing, his food and drink left untouched at the table.

Welp, tonight's fun ended.

I really wished I truly had the energy to flirt with someone else. My full attention belonged to Sebastian, even though we were just friends. I liked him without liking him. I wanted him without wanting him. My heart and soul sung for him, but my mind told me to stay far away from romantic feelings. Too much could go wrong. I could end up with a broken heart. The best thing to do was accept his friendship and wait for someone else to come along and grab my attention. Hopefully.

The chair in front of me scraped against the floor. "Dude, where have you been? It's been more than ten minutes. You know, for someone who is so worried about my safety, you sure left without a problem," I grumbled.

He chuckled. "Should I be worried about your safety?"

Not Sebastian.

I tossed my phone down onto the table and looked up, already plotting a grand escape. The guy leaned back in the chair, taking a sip of the drink he had brought with him.

I met his eyes, reaching under the table for the knife Sebastian had secured in my boot. I closed my hand around it, ready to stab him if needed.

"There's no need for that knife," the guy said, holding his hands up defensively, "I come in peace."

Yeah, right. "Who are you?" I asked, a little worried he knew about the knife. Had he been the one who had gotten Sebastian outside, away from me? "Where's my friend?" If he didn't know Sebastian's name, I wouldn't tell him.

The guy continued to smile. He was frustratingly handsome. "Which question would you like me to answer first?" At my glare, his smile increased. "Okay, fine, I'll answer both at the same time: my brother is right outside that door, having a conversation with a woman so beautiful, she would even make you feel insecure."

I pulled the knife slowly from my boot. Brother. Another one of the Seven Deadly Sins. It made sense why he looked flawlessly perfect and familiar. Sebastian's brother appeared exactly like him—supernaturally handsome. Ethereal? Or whatever the opposite of the word was that applied to demonic beings. They even moved similar—too graceful and precise to be human. A smoothness and suaveness that came with immortality, or, at the very least, centuries of life. Even the way he crossed his leg—a move so different from Sebastian but still similar—reminded me of them. This guy crossed his leg in the same territorial, slightly frightening way Sebastian looked at people. Kind of calming but with danger lurking underneath.

But more importantly: who was this woman that was so important he left me alone for the first time in days? "Why are you here?" I asked. What I really wanted to ask was, Well, who is she?

He lifted a shoulder. "Just to check on my brother. When I saw him out with a beautiful girl, I knew I had to come talk to you. See why on Earth you would be interested in him." He took a sip of his drink, calculating. He watched me with a glint of something dangerous and cold, waiting on me to make some kind of move.

I wasn't sure what he wanted me to say or do. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say or do, actually.

"Well," I snapped, "there's a beautiful woman talking to him outside, too. Why don't you go question her?"

He came for more than a social call. He wanted information, and I had no intentions on giving it to him.

He could always torture you, my mind whispered. He would have to get me out of here first.

But maybe that was either than I thought. Sebastian had been so secretive with everything regarding him and his siblings, I didn't even know what their powers were. Even if I could tell which sin he personified, I couldn't guess his powers. They didn't seem to make sense or follow a particular pattern.

His brother simply chuckled, setting his drink down. "Been there, had that. I'd much rather talk to you." Was he lust? The way he eyed me made me think he wanted to devour me right there on the table. He was attractive. Then again, so was Sebastian—who really needed to get over here. I glanced at the door, where I still couldn't see him.

The guy reached over, his finger pulling my chin toward him. "Don't worry about him, sweetheart. Right now you're mine." Envy? Was he jealous of Sebastian?

I shot him a dark look, even as my bod reacted to his soft touch. "I don't belong to you or him." I turned the knife over in my hands. I could reach over and stab him? But would it work? Sebastian had been struck with much worse without flinching.

"Of course not. I didn't mean it like that at all," he murmured, leaning forward. He waved our waitress off as she came to check in on us. The guy returned his sharp, calculating gaze to me. "I just need your attention for a few minutes. Can I have that?"

His voice pulled me in. I started to relax a little, but I struggled against it. Could he control minds or emotions? Read them? I tightened my grip on the knife. "You have two minutes," I told him. "And you're lucky I'm giving you that."

He grinned. "That's all I need, sweetheart." He lowered his voice, which made me lean toward him. "My name is Griffin, and I just want to ask you a few questions, see if you can answer them."

"I can't." I looked back at the door again. Nothing there, no hint of Sebastian. Nobody paid attention to us either.

"You haven't even heard my questions—and you're wasting my time." His voice turned dark, even though his smile remained in place. "How did you meet my brother?"

A simple enough question. "We've been friends since freshman year of college," I answered.

He nodded. "How much do you know about my brother?"

Well, he's a demon, and he had superpowers, and he doesn't trust you. "Not much." Again, another truth. "He's very secretive about his life. I know his parents are dead, and that he's been adopted. We don't talk about it because he says it's too painful."

Griffin nodded again, seemingly content. "Has he ever showed you anything special?"

Tell me, his voice encouraged, wrapping itself into my ears. I wanted to tell him so badly; I wanted to blurt out Sebastian's powers. I blinked, feeling dazed. If he was here questioning me, not knowing how much I knew, than Sebastian hadn't told him. He didn't want Griffin to know. So I couldn't tell him either. "Um, he's double jointed?" I told him, shrugging as I fought agains that fog settling over me.

"And nothing else?"

"Nope."

He tilted his head to the side. "He's out there talking to another girl while on a date with you. Why are you protecting him?"

Why was I protecting Sebastian? Forget the girl—he locked me in his house for five days, preventing me from leaving. I had no reason to protect him or keep his secrets from his brother, who he hadn't even bothered telling me about.

Sebastian had his reasons, even if they were misguided. His intentions were good, even if the resulting actions weren't. He protected me, and I protected him in return.

"Sebastian is my best friend," I said slowly, carefully. I turned the knife, ready to stab him the second he relaxed. "If he doesn't trust you, neither do I."

Griffin glowered at me. "But the woman—"

"Who cares?" My voice was cool, even though a fury that rivaled the jealousy built in me. "He's not my boyfriend. He can talk to whoever he wants."

Malice glinted in his eyes.

Heart pounding, I shoved the knife into his leg. It pierced the skin just above his knee. Griffin grunted, surprised. I pushed my chair back, knowing he wouldn't—couldn't—make a scene.

I walked out calmly, heading toward the door with my heart in my throat. As soon as I was away from him, the fury and jealousy slipped away.

The back of Sebastian's head greeted me. He was talking to someone. "Sebastian!" I called out, hurrying toward him in the cold air.

Sebastian turned to me, eyes wide with alarm. "Go back inside rig—"

"But your bro—" I stopped as a familiar face came into view. Sebastian wasn't talking to a woman but a man. A tall, not too muscled not too skinny man with a square jaw, clean-shaven beard, dark brown eyes. A man who should've been inside at the table I had just left. I turned and looked inside. Griffin sat in there, too, smiling at me. I blinked. Twins existed. He had a twin, that was all. "—ther," I finished.

Sebastian walked toward me, turning me toward the door roughly. "I'll explain on the way home."

I looked around him. "I just stabbed you."

Confusion reworked Sebastian's features.

Griffin smiled, rolling his pants leg up. "See? No wound. You stabbed one of my multiples." He closed his eye, and a second later, another Griffin appeared next to him. "See? This is what I do. I can make as many multiples of myself or anything else I want. Except other people, unfortunately. I would love to take one of you home."

His 'multiple' disappeared. I looked back inside. That one flirted with the waitress. "You have powers?" I asked, feigning shock.

Sebastian stopped trying to push me away, instead bringing me closer.

Griffin chuckled, looking toward Sebastian. "She didn't say a single thing about you," he told him, impressed. "Anyway, I guess we can take this to my house now? We need to talk. About Mother. About Athena."

He knew my name? He knew about Mother?

Sebastian looked at me.

The door opened to reveal his multiple. Once he reached the parking lot, that one disappeared, too. I looked at the real Griffin. "Are any more of you gonna pop up?" I demanded.

Griffin laughed and walked off instead of answering me.

I watched him long after he had pulled away.

Sebastian put his arm around my shoulder. "He's actually one of my more well-behaved siblings."