My minions remained still and didn’t utter a word. They obeyed my original command and watched from their respective corners. They both had smiles on their faces, enjoying the altercation. Jealousy’s shoulders repeatedly bounced from his laughter.
Hatred stood in one corner with her arms folded and leaning against the wall. Jealousy crouched down in the opposite corner with his hands clasped together as they rested against his mouth. They nodded together, understanding what I wanted and what was at stake.
The power rose inside me as the man’s anger and hate boiled over. I needed that as a reminder of who and what I was. That feeling I’d felt back at the house was something I didn’t understand and had never before experienced. It was strong and filled me with a calming peace. Because I couldn’t continue that interaction with the detective without interruption, I felt it best to replace those emotions with the two that gave me purpose.
They were brats. I felt like a single parent, listening to them bicker back and forth about their disapproval of everything. It took everything in me to continue to ignore them, especially because this exchange with the detective was so pleasant.
I ignored them both, not wanting to dignify their questions with an answer. I had everything under control and wanted to make sure I took things one step at a time. The first priority was pulling her from that wreckage before the flames consumed her. The next step would be finding some shelter.
A woman stood at my window with her arms folded and a golden shield clipped at her waist. She had curly brown hair with light brown skin and freckles across her nose. Her hazel eyes pierced mine, and her lips were pursed from her thoughts.
I snorted in derision. Mortals are so stupid and can be extremely predictable. His hatred for me fueled my being as if he’d plugged me into an outlet for god power. I looked over at Hatred in the car. Her face was glued to me, and her nose almost touched the glass. She smiled, breathing heavily, and fogged the glass with every exhale.
I sighed and walked back to the car, banging my shoulders into them as I passed. My bump got them to stop yelling at each other. I was too exhausted to continue to yell at them to stop their bickering. Honestly, they were both right about the other, which is mostly why I didn’t bother to intervene.
As her power grew, I felt stronger and Jealousy felt weaker. His coughs changed to gasps for air, suffocating under the weight of the power shift. Even though my strength powered up like a charged battery, I felt immense pain. It was as if she were ripping me apart from the inside, taking her fierce anger out on me for leaving her behind. Hatred wailed in my mind, thunderous like a thousand soldiers screaming their war cries on a battlefield.
I smiled in admiration. There was a strength to Melpomene. Something different from the last time I had spoken to her. Her innocence seemed to have slipped from her heart and allowed her darkness to take over.
I moved away from my minion and closed in on my target. Every movement I made was in unison with the crowd of people dancing on the hardwood floor. The clicks of the heels and clapping of their hands masked my presence, helping me glide toward Melpomene.
Fire coiled in my belly, burning me. It wasn’t the all-consuming rage that came before a battle, the frenzy of my father. No, this was darker, deeper, patient, and plotting. This…this came from my mother. Most would think it more dangerous to cross my father. After all, who does not fear war? But no. You never, ever, cross my mother. She was a scourge and would wipe the world clean to satisfy her insatiable need.
The gun fired. I felt the bullet pierce my torso, followed by the burning sensation mortals often describe. It didn’t hurt, but I could feel it rattling around inside of me. I clutched the wound, falling to my back with my eyes open.
The feeling of jealousy was overwhelming, and hate would soon follow. I didn’t want to intervene in mortal life, but this squabble I had inserted myself into assured me I could no longer act as a spectator.