The Struggle (Titan #3)

“Oh my gods,” I whispered, eyes widening with horror.

Ripped and flayed skin peeled back from the head. Entire chunks of skin were missing from the hollowed cheeks. The skin on the arms was no better. Strips of flesh hung from the chest. One of the eyes was nothing more than an empty, rotten socket, and some kind of cloth was wrapped around its hips, a cloth that might’ve been white and pristine at one time, but was now covered in mud and singed with soot.

The scent of sulfur misted the room.

The one good eye met mine, and its iris was a milky blue.

“Holy daimon babies,” whispered Alex. “Is that a zombie? Like a real zombie?”

“That wasn’t an earthquake.” Aiden reached to his hip, but he was empty-handed. They’d been sleeping and had come downstairs with no daggers.

“I think that’s obvious,” Deacon muttered from behind Luke.

All of us were immobile with disbelief.

The head on the thing swiveled from me to the other side, and then it pulled itself out, hitting the crushed tile on its hands and knees. A great shudder rolled through the wrecked body and it doubled over, opening its mouth and coughing violently, spewing clumps of soil and small pebbles.

The thing spoke, rocking onto its knees, back bowing as it threw its arms out. “Δωρε?ν.”

It was a tone of voice so guttural that it sounded like its vocal cords had been destroyed, spoken in a language I didn’t recognize at first, and wouldn’t have if my demigod abilities hadn’t been unlocked.

“Free,” I repeated, looking across the rift. “It said ‘free.’”

Upon my voice, it turned its head at me again.

“Free from what?” Deacon asked. “The set of The Walking Dead?”

Any other time I would’ve laughed, but that thing was rising to bare feet that were nothing more than gnawed muscle and bone. It took a step toward me.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned, having no idea if it understood a single thing I said.

The thing shuffled another step forward.

“I think it likes you,” commented Alex, from the other side of the room.

Power built in the center of my chest, right behind the mark of Apollo, reminding me that I didn’t need a dagger to fight. I lifted a hand, hoping that whatever this thing was, it was a friendly and would listen to me. “Stop.”

Stretching out a gnarly hand in my direction, it opened its mouth in a lipless snarl, revealing ragged, broken teeth.

Okay.

Probably not friendly.

I reacted, tapping into the power—into akasha. Summoning the element of air, I felt the energy whip down my arm. A gust of wind hit the thing in its chest.

It flew backward.

Alex let out a strangled sound as she and Aiden dropped to the floor. The thing shot across the chasm, slamming into the opposite wall in a way that reminded me of a fly hitting the windshield of a car going about 100 miles per hour. A gruesome sound burned my ears as it exploded like a tick full of blood.

“Oh my gosh.” I dropped my hand.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Gable moaned. “Seriously. I might vomit.”

Alex and Aiden rose, their eyes wide as they looked over the rift at me. Aiden’s dark brows rose halfway up his forehead. “Whoa,” he said.

“I . . . I didn’t mean to do that,” I said, swallowing hard. “I mean, I meant to stop it but not make it go splat.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t accidentally set one of us on fire,” Luke commented.

My head snapped in his direction. “I only did that, like, once!”

Luke grinned.

“That was kind of impressive.” Alex looked over her shoulder, cringing. “I can control air, but not with that kind of force.”

“Well, that’s because she’s a real demigod,” Deacon said.

Alex rolled her eyes. “We’re real demigods—”

“Guys. I think we’re about to get more visitors.” Luke pointed at the chasm. More hands had appeared. “Let’s argue about being real demigods later.”

They came out of the rift faster than the lone one, all in the same rotting, decaying shape. Their bare-boned feet clicked off the pieces of tile.

There were almost a dozen.

I’d never seen anything like this.

Their jaws snapped, exposing ragged teeth that could easily tear through skin.

“Zombies are all fun and games until they’re standing right in front of you,” Deacon said.

One of them, a tall one, broke free from the pack, lurching toward Alex. She hopped back as she threw out her arm. A second later, the zombie-looking thing skidded backward, falling into the fissure.

“Deacon,” Aiden said calmly. Smoke drifted off the tips of his fingers. “Get Gable into the kitchen. Keep him there.”

For once, Deacon obeyed without argument. Whipping around, he grabbed the stunned-into-silence Gable and hauled ass to the kitchen, slamming the door behind them just as one of the so-very-dead-looking things howled a sound of rage and blood, sending a shiver down my spine.

They attacked.

There was no time to figure out what was happening, what these things really were, or why they were coming after us. The things could move fast. Half went toward Alex and the guys. The rest raced in my direction, and for a split second, fear punched through my gut. I was immobile with it. I may be a demigod, but these things were terrifying looking, and I was just a mortal girl about to get her flesh torn off her bones.

But I wasn’t a mortal girl.

Far from it.

Instinct took over, forcing my body to move. I darted to the left as I tapped into the powers stirring inside me. Reaching the raised dais, I spun around. A small ball of flames hit one of the creatures in the back. Fire erupted, swallowing its body.

“Holy crap,” I whispered.

On the other side of the chasm, ultra-bright flames danced over Aiden’s knuckles. Then he turned, taking out another as Luke brandished a dagger. Apparently he’d been the only one who came out of his bedroom prepared. Overachiever. Jumping forward, he slammed the dagger into one of the eye sockets and jerked his arm back, his lip curling in disgust as maroon-colored blood spurted out at him. The thing shrieked as it fell to the floor, shattering upon impact.

“That’s so gross,” he muttered, flipping the dagger. He twisted, eyeing another creature. “So freaking gross.”