“Thanatos,” the first Fury said. “What have you done with our sister?”

“And not only our sister, but one of the Erinyes,” said the second.

A third voice came from the roof of the car.

“Return Megaera’s body and her blood. Give us the nymph. They are ours.”

Thanatos shook his head. Beside him, Calypso grimaced and let go of her hurt arm. Her small knife glinted in the car’s headlights. It wouldn’t do much if one of the Furies decided to rush her. This time they weren’t shackled to a wall.

“The blood I keep,” Thanatos said. “I went to enough trouble to get it. And I’m keeping the nymph as well. The body, though, you’re welcome to. It’s buried in my basement.”

Every Fury seethed. They hissed and roared. Wings popped through the skin of their backs and veins bounced across their cheeks and arms.

“Quit while you’re ahead,” he went on. “And don’t take it so personal. Furies can die. I’ve killed you before.”

But not her. Not Megaera. Cassandra could see the rage unspoken on the faces of every one. That had been the wrong thing to say.

Two of the Furies rushed Thanatos, claws digging into his chest and shoulders. They dragged him away from the car in a storm of beating wings. Every time the light caught their claws, they were covered with more and more blood. His arm lifted; he had one of their heads in his hand and crushed it. The Fury dropped, twitching, and the roof of the car bounced as the Fury on top of it flew to take her place.

“Thanatos!” Cassandra cried.

“Not me!” he shouted. “Calypso!”

“What?” Cassandra shouted back. She turned away from the attack, and saw Calypso struggling underneath the Fury they’d thrown from the car, her teeth bared with the effort of holding the fangs and claws at bay. Calypso had one good arm. The other looked broken, and bled from four deep cuts.

Cassandra jerked the car door open and stumbled out on unsteady legs, but adrenaline made her move fast. She felt outside of her body. Out of control. The Fury bit down on Calypso’s forearm, razor teeth hitting bone, and Calypso screamed.

“Get off of her!”

Cassandra didn’t think. She grabbed the Fury by the wing and shoulder and its eyes burst inside its skull. She wanted it away from Calypso, away and dead, a harmless corpse on the side of the road. Heat flooded her palms. She heard her own voice, shouting. She pushed the Fury up against the side of the car and kept pushing. She kept pushing as it shrieked. She kept pushing until it popped like a blister.

*   *   *

There were no bones. No internal organs. No teeth, or claws, barely a trace of wings and skin. It was all liquid. Red, and viscous, and laced through with something like mucus. It covered the rear quarter panel of the car and splattered up onto the roof. It coated Cassandra from her hair to her knees. She kept her lips pressed tightly closed, but could still taste it, salty and bitter, warm but cooling fast. Her hands flapped; droplets shook free and struck the ground.

“Don’t move.”

Cassandra closed her eyes as the Fury’s blood began to drip.

Car doors opened. Whatever Thanatos was doing, it took forever. A scream built in Cassandra’s throat: half rage, half disgust. Her hands still throbbed, full of steam. But it lessened. The shock of the Fury’s sudden demise worked like a reset button.

A wet towel scraped along her eyes and mouth.

“It’s only water on the towel. Don’t open your eyes yet. Wait. There.”

Cassandra opened her eyes to a puddle of red at her feet. It was as if the Fury had been nothing but a leather, winged bag of blood. Thanatos and Calypso wiped her as clean as they could.

“Where are the others?” she asked.

“I killed two,” said Thanatos. “The third fled. Calypso, get her new clothes. And more water to rinse her hair.” His hands moved to her shirt and started to tug at it. She almost slapped him away, but she had to get the Fury’s mess off of her. That was more important than shyness or modesty. He stripped her shirt over her head. The night air hit her skin and made her shiver.

“Don’t make her carry so much.” Cassandra looked at Calypso. “I’m fine. I can rinse my own hair. Help her with her arm.”

Thanatos released her reluctantly and handed her two bottles of water.

“Calypso, show me your arm,” he said. “We need to splint it and find something to use as a sling.”

Cassandra tilted her head back and carefully poured water into her hair. It was freezing cold, and blood and mucus slipped under her fingers as she rinsed. Her teeth clacked together with shivers and nausea. The last of the water she used to rinse her face and arms.