Prequel: THRILL
(download at smassery.com/thrill)
#1: THIEF
#2: FIGHTER
#3: REBEL
#4: QUEEN
KORA
“You’re late.” A man with a boar mask flicks his cigarette. The flash of embers falling draws my gaze, but the grotesque mask keeps it. He leans against one of the huge marble columns that make up the front side of the building. I’ve never seen a place like this before.
It feels like it was transported directly out of ancient Greece.
The door I stand in front of doesn’t have a knob, which is peculiar. And it’s at least twelve feet tall and carved in intricate patterns that all seem to interlock. I can barely make it out in the darkness.
I wring my hands. “Look, I know. I—”
“I don’t need your excuses. You’ll have to come back next time. And be punctual.”
I scowl at him. “I’m five minutes—”
“Five minutes is a lifetime. You know what an average person can do in five minutes?” He stubs out the cigarette and straightens. He saunters forward, revealing himself in the moonlight. Behind the holes of his mask, his eyes drill into mine. “You want to beat the system? Sneak in?”
This feels like a test. Or a trap.
I try to hold his gaze, but I’d rather do anything but. My skin crawls. And I’m suddenly aware that we’re alone out here—this strange man and me. Anything could happen.
“No.”
He inclines his chin. “Okay, then.”
Okay, then…
He chuckles to himself and turns, disappearing around the side of the building.
I take the marble steps down to the grass and sigh. So much for my grand plan of seeing what Olympus is all about. I’d heard rumors of it—well, not really rumors. More like gossip. The girls who live in the apartment next to mine were talking about it.
When I tentatively asked them, they mentioned the masks. And the way everyone dresses up to attend. But they didn’t say much more, and I got the sense that it was supposed to be a secret.
And now I’m alone, in an ill-fitting black dress and uncomfortable gold mask, surrounded by parked cars. Meanwhile, the people inside get to enjoy… whatever it is that happens in there.
I sigh and pull out my phone. My clutch is just large enough to accommodate it, my ID, and some cash. Enough to have got me into Olympus and then the cab fare back to my apartment. But it looks like I’ll just be calling another cab.
Except, I have no service.
How did I miss that?
I face Olympus again. To the left is an incline, and I can’t tell what’s beyond it. I head that way, glancing at my phone every few steps. My only other option would be going back down the long driveway to the main road and hoping I eventually get service.
Either way is a gamble.
So I adjust my mask and pull off my heels. I angle away from the driveway beside the building and step onto the grass. It’s cool under my bare feet. I make it past the corner of Olympus and climb the slight hill. A noise catches my attention to my left. Here, the moon is brighter. It sits low in the starless sky, huge and yellow, and gives everything an eerie feel.
And then I spot them: six people in a little circle. They’re off to the side, away from where people would be able to see them if they were entering or exiting Olympus.
I step forward, about to call out, when one lunges toward one of the others.
No one yells. No one says anything. They don’t even seem surprised by the sudden move. But the man the first one went at hunches forward, clutching his stomach, then falls. He faceplants, and the men stare down at him for a moment. One of them kicks him, and he rolls over onto his back. Something sticks out of his abdomen.
The handle of a knife?
I cover my mouth to bite back my scream. He was just stabbed—and the five others seem unperturbed. Horror fills me—but even more so when one stoops down and grabs his arms. Another one walks up and pulls the knife out, and there’s a glint of wetness on the metal. It catches the moonlight.
My stomach turns, and I fight the bile surging up my throat.
The stabbed one is dragged away, around the other side of the building. They all watch them go, too, until he rounds the corner and disappears from sight.
Then there were four.
I need… I need to report this to the police. Or someone. I creep closer, keeping my body low. I probably stand out like a beacon, but I can’t stop myself from trying to see more. How would the police catch them if I can’t give them any true details?
I keep close to the grass, one hand pressed into the earth to stabilize myself, and stop only twenty feet away. Enough to see them clearer.
Three of them wear masks, like they came out of Olympus. The fourth is older, tall and lean with a trim goatee. He’s maskless but seems unbothered by it.
“You sure about this, Hades?” The maskless man shakes his head. “He was in my circle.”
Two wear skull masks with horns—but they’re markedly different. The first is an animal skull, a deer or something with a long nose bone that extends past the man’s own nose. Even in the moonlight, I can see the streaks of gold on his bare chest. And the second seems like the Devil himself. The pale skull looks human, minus the lower jaw, and black horns curl out of the temples.
The human-skull one grunts. Is he Hades? “We don’t get things wrong.”
“Of course.” The man pulls something from his pocket and tosses it.
The third, with a red mask and red jacket, catches it. He thumbs through the roll of cash, then jerks a nod. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
The maskless man follows behind the other two.
“Apollo,” someone calls from behind them. Warm light spills out from inside Olympus. “They’re ready.”
The one with the animal mask turns back to the doorway—one I had missed, set into a dark alcove in the side of the marble—and waves at the new person. The door clicks shut.
And then he turns back, and his gaze finds me.
Shit.
“We have an audience,” he informs the other two.
I straighten, ignoring the ice pouring down my spine. Because… yeah. I’m screwed. But I may as well look them in the eye, right? I’ve learned to take punishments like that. I’ve learned that men hate when you keep looking at them, even after they try to beat you down.
I found out the hard way.
Hades saunters toward me. His long stride eats the distance. Behind his mask, his eyes are shadowed. His full lips press together, revealing his displeasure.
Snakes writhe in my belly.
“I’m sorry—”
He stops in front of me, and my breathing halts along with it. His open shirt reveals perfect abs. My eyes fall to his shoes, then back up to his face. Even with the terrifying mask, he’s gorgeous. And very clearly deadly.
A smirk lifts the corners of his lips, like he knows the effect he has on women. There’s a cruel edge to it, though. And soon we’re joined by the other two, the red-masked man and Apollo.
After the Greek god of sun and light. I’m not sure if he’s supposed to be portraying that god exactly, though, because there’s a darker side to this man.
And the last… red. Blood drips down his chest, although it seems more like it was painted on. I don’t know who he is, but he seems soaked in violence. I can feel it in my bones.