The Power (Titan 2) - Page 90

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The world was tinted in white.

Fear flickered over the Titan’s face. Oh yeah, he knew what he was facing. He knew the end was coming for him, the true end, and there was no escaping it, because I was the beginning and I was the end.

“No,” I said, in a deep and heavy voice I did not recognize as my own. “I am done with this.”

I summoned akasha, but this time it was different. The aether sang in my veins and flooded my body. The whitish-tinted amber circled down my arm, crackling and spitting into the air as it powered down my arm.

Atlas tried to move, but it was too late.

Akasha slammed into the Titan, hitting him in the chest, and it kept coming as I prowled forward, keeping up with the intensity, surrounding him with its power. Wisps of smoke hit the air and tiny bursts of light shot out, hitting the shades. The light swallowed and destroyed them.

Atlas was backing away, but one leg gave out and then the other. He hit the floor on his knees, and I smiled as I placed my palm on his face. My chest expanded as I tapped into what was in the Titan, drawing every ounce of aether out of him, and what was inside me became a white-hot fire.

The Power retracted.

I jerked my hand back and the whitish-amber light retreated.

Atlas stared up at me, his mouth gaping open. A darkish, shimmery blue blood leaked from his eyes. Underneath his skin, a network of veins became visible, lit from within. The light seeped out, washing over his entire body.

I laughed.

A loud popping sound, like bombs exploding at the same time, echoed through the room, and when the light faded Atlas was nothing more than a scorched spot on the stone floor. I stared down at the spot for several moments until something behind me whimpered.

Slowly, I turned around. There were people on the floor. They were the things that were withering. Things. Insignificant. Moaning. Trying to sit up. Annoying.

I walked toward them, each step purposeful. Something moved to the right of me. I looked. It was big and reaching out to me. Hercules. Gods, I did not like him.

Lifting my hand, I sent him flying backward. My attention zeroed on the dark-haired pure-blood with silvery eyes. He was shielding someone. Blood trickled from his nose.

Oh, yeah, I really did not like him. Couldn’t quite grasp why, but I knew I’d be thoroughly pleased if I made him go splat. I lifted my hand.

“Seth! No,” a female shouted. The voice was familiar. It did something to me. Distracted me. “Seth!”

A stinging sensation shot across my left forearm, and I spun around, lifting my arm as I summoned akasha. It coiled, rushing down my arm.

“Seth,” she whispered.

Her voice stopped me, reached in and shook me. The whitish-amber light fizzled out. I looked down and saw blue eyes—Josie. My Josie. And then I saw what she held in her hand. That soft hand trembled, but it was not empty. She clutched the blade. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My legs gave out below me, and Josie dropped the stake. I heard it clang off the floor and then I heard nothing.

There was nothing.



Dropping the blade, I shot forward and tried to stop Seth’s fall. I circled my arms around his waist, but he was too heavy. The toxin had hit him hard, and I couldn’t hold his weight. Not when standing and forcing my way to him had leached what remaining energy I had.

I crumpled along with him, hitting the floor on my hip. Pain flared, but I ignored it as Seth’s head cracked off the stone floor.

Reaching deep down, I scrabbled up his side and rolled him onto his back. His eyes were closed, dark lashes fanning his golden cheeks. With a shaking hand, I felt his neck for a pulse and then swallowed a cry of relief as I felt it steady under my fingers.

I had no idea what the Pegasus blood would do to him. It could kill mortals. Immobilize Titans and demigods, but the Apollyon? No one had really said what it would do to him.

He was alive.

Out cold, but alive.

Pushing myself up, I sat down and scanned the room. My gaze landed on the blade first. You will need the toxin, but not for whom you expect. Medusa’s words haunted me. She had known. That woman had known.

And I’d seen the Titan Atlas before.

He’d been in my nightmares. Over and over, he’d been there. That had been him. How? I didn’t understand, but he had.

Numb, I lifted my gaze. Deacon was struggling to his feet, along with Luke. Both looked like they’d been blown through a wall. A fine trickle of blood leaked out of Deacon’s nose, but he appeared otherwise uninjured. The bruises on Luke’s jaw were from fighting Atlas. Hercules was sitting up, his expression absolutely dumbfounded.

“How did he do that?” Alex stumbled to her feet with Aiden’s aid, swaying to one side. Both looked okay. “How did he do that?”

I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know how Seth had tapped into all of us without even touching us.

My gaze finally fell on Solos. “Oh gods,” I whispered, quickly averting my gaze. What Atlas had whispered in my dream the night before had also been right. Dig a grave.

He was . . . I closed my eyes, biting down on my lower lip until I tasted blood. Pain opened in my chest, overshadowing the physical aches that bit and chewed at me.

Solos was gone.

Him falling had tipped Seth over an edge, a very precarious edge I hadn’t even realized he’d been teetering on this . . . this entire time.

I was numb, sitting between where Seth had fallen and where Solos lay. This scent of death was different than what followed the shades. This . . . this was heavier, more real.

“Solos,” Deacon spoke softly. He’d dropped to his knees beside him. “Oh man. Oh gods, this is . . .” He reached out, but drew his hands back. “This isn’t right.”

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Titan Fantasy