Chapter 3
The next time they got in contact was in Malta. Sameen had just finished rescuing a wayward scientist before he could be interrogated and then killed by their number. Cole was dealing with said number, and Sameen didn’t worry about him – their number was stupid, and Cole wasn’t. In any case, Cole was more of a computer nerd, so he preferred to utilise his toxicology degree. Poison – Sameen hated poison. Both because she loved her food and was disgusted at the idea of contaminating anything with something that would make her feel like she was about to throw up, or worse, before she burned it off, and because she loved guns. It got her blood pumping, adrenaline running through her veins when one slipped into her hand.
At least her mother was good for something. Battle was the only thing that made her feel.
It also didn’t hurt that her inherited telumkinesis gave Sameen the ability to understand any weapon she saw. She knew how to use it, clean it, knew all it’s strengths and weakness. Sameen had long ago decided that it was her favourite of all the gifts her mother could have given her.
Root, obviously, was a pain in her behind.
And annoying.
“You couldn’t have just decided to leave it for once?” Sameen questioned her as the two shot at the now-dead number’s gunmen, who were trying to retrieve the long-gone scientist, and had arrived at Sameen’s motel to only to realise this. Now they were trying to kill her – or rather, them, as Root had shown herself to be Sameen’s ally in this venture.
The nerd herself blew a piece of hair out of her face before ducking down to reload her machine gun. “Sweetie, money is money, but when I’m hired to take out a mob boss, only to find my favourite person being shot at, I choose my favourite person. And anyway, I have explosives set inside his house.”
Sameen rolled her eyes. “I should have expected something like that.” She ducked down to reload, as Root popped back up. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Honey-”
“And stop with the pet names,” Sameen ordered, before standing back up. Root grinned manically, before giggling, reaching into her pocket and- “Is that a grenade?”
“Yup!” Root’s giggles increased in volume before she pulled the pin and threw it towards the gunmen, grabbing Sameen’s arm, tugging her in the opposite direction. “Come on! Run before we get blown up!”
Sameen didn’t disobey, but did pause to fire one last shot – bullseye, go me – before doing so.
The explosion wasn’t large, though it did blow out several car windows, the glass flying to hit them. Sameen got a chunk to the shoulder, but she pulled it out and threw it away, healing before Root could notice – Root, who had tiny cuts in her shirt becoming grazed with as equally tiny dark spots, and one large piece halfway through her shoulder. She stumbled, understandably, and Sameen was once again reminded of human fragility before scooping her up, wanting to be as far away from the explosion as possible before Cole got back and blamed her.
Root’s breathing was uneven, but she still managed a wicked grin, eyes alight, “Scooped me right off my feet, Shaw, pretty romantic of you.”
“I don’t do romantic,” Shaw made sure to seem slightly strained, breathing-wise as she continued to run, muscles tensing unnecessarily as she made her way to a company van across the road, opening the driver’s door – thankfully unlocked – and getting in. Root was pushed over to the passenger’s seat before she used a smidge of godly power to start the car, seeing a police cruiser approach, the officer inside with a walkie-talkie to their face. Sameen pressed herself up against the seat, trying not to be seen.
“Hey Shaw…you’re a doc, right? Get this out of me.” Root was panting. Sameen looked over, but other than that, she was fine – no signs of shock, or any major bloodloss, though there was a sizeable blood-stain around the glass that caused her to lean forward, back not touching the seat.
“Wait.” Sameen ordered sharply, before taking her burner phone from her pocket, calling Cole. “Cole, where are you?”
“On my way back to the motel, why?”
“I know you’ve got all our gear packed up, and I’m not there. No reason to go,” Sameen started driving away as more cars showed up, including a fire engine and another police cruiser – oh, and an ambulance too. That might have been useful, she admitted to herself, but she couldn’t go back now and steal any supplies. “File a report on the number. Mine’ll come by email. I’ll be seeing you.” She ended her call with Cole, before throwing the burner out of Root’s open window. “Shut that.”
“The breeze is nice on my back.”
“No, it’s not. It’s full of dirt and other crap which can contaminate your wound. Put it up.” Sameen didn’t bother waiting for her to do it, using her driver’s controls. Root pouted.
“Aw, Sameen, why’d you have to do that?” Silence. Root sighed, before looking to the radio. Her hand reached out, only for Sameen to throw a handy plyer at her. She snatched her hand back. “Are you trying to injure me even more than I already am?”
“Stay still and don’t touch anything.”
“Even the floor?”
Sameen felt a feeling of dread. “You can touch the floor.”
“What about my chair?”
Sameen’s grip on the wheel increased. “You can touch your chair.”
“What about the air? Can I even touch the air? I wouldn’t know – I don’t have a degree in physics.”
“Neither do I, now shut up and stop being stupid.” Are you sure she’s not a demigod? Sameen asked herself. Because she’s almost as annoying as Apollo.
Key word being almost.
Feeling a phone appear in her pocket, Sameen took it out before it even started to ring, answering it a second later as it began to buzz.
“What do you want?”
“I heard a little birdie thinking about me.”
Sameen scoffed, “Yeah, right. While you’re annoying me, you can do me a favour. Search up nearby hospitals and pharmacies.”
“Ooh, what happened? Is your little mortal hurt? I thought he was more resilient than that.”
“She,” Sameen corrected without thinking, about to forget what she wanted him to do and continue to talk about Root and her resiliency, and attractiveness, before she blinked and started glaring at the road. “You fucking crapshite. Stop using that…” she waved a hand around, not able to find a word for it, “Just stop. Don’t use it on me. Look up hospitals and pharmacies, dipshit.”
“Sameen, such foul language – you call your dear old uncle a dipshit? What would your mother say?”
“I don’t know, but if she’s anything like me, then exactly the same thing,” Sameen replied, before Root piped up.
“Who you talking to, Shaw?” Sameen glanced at her.
“Nobody.”
“Nobody? What about Nobody? When did we start talking about the original motherfucker?”
“Not you,” Sameen looked away from Root, “Well, yes you, but at the same time, no. I was talking to…” she grimaced, before switching to Ancient Greek, “my mortal.”
“Ooh, your mortal. What’s her name?”
“None of your fucking business, but she’s got a huge-ass piece of glass sticking out of her shoulder.”
The difference to Apollo’s voice in his next words were clear, teasing tone disappearing to be replaced by a serious vibe. “Any arteries cut?”
“Don’t know, didn’t have time to check.” Sameen took a hand off the steering wheel, shifting Root’s shirt a little to see the damage. “I don’t think so though. But I need directions, Apollo.”
“The next motel you see up the road, go straight to room sixty-nine.”
“Sixty-nine, really?” Sameen grimaced, looking at street signs. Apparently there was a motel in eight miles. They’d been on the edge of a town before, so maybe it was another one. “Is there another town there or something?”
“No. But I’ll be there – in the direction you’re heading, there exists only the concept of supply runs. Back the way you came. And I couldn’t help it – this is the first time you’ve taken an actual interest in a mortal.” Sameen rolled her eyes.
“I’m not going to sleep with her.”
“Never said you would. Now speed up, Sammy – don’t want her going into shock, now, do we?”
Sameen hung up and drove.