Jezlyn Lang

“What was that?” Casey asks, appearing at the door to her office. It’s incredible how her phone call finished just in time to see me let a dog escape.

Yes, I know that I—an educated twenty-one-year-old man—shouldn’t be afraid of a tiny Yorkshire terrier. But here we are, with this tiny, yappy dog literally crapping all over my life.

Medusa. Of course; this is why I couldn’t kill her earlier.

A grin spreads across my face. This is more like it.

Apollo, Hades, and I had been the last ones left. And now, even they’re gone.