“There are reports on Myndalia of several skirmishes, and videos of you and Clo have been put up all over the communication systems, Eris. It’s only a matter of time before the Oracle finds out you’ve commandeered that ship and puts out notice that a Tholosian craft of interest has been stolen, so I’m going to amend my statement to a monumental fuck-up.” She made a noise of derision. “Prepare the loading bay. I’m almost there and I’m going to dock. We’ll talk then.”

Kyla hung up.

“So.” Eris removed the headset. “That went well.”

“We’re fucked, aren’t we?” Clo asked.

“Yep. Once Kyla boards, she’s going to ask where the crew went.” Eris tipped her head back and heaved a sigh. “This is a mess.”

“We made a mess,” Clo said. “But the mission could have been salvaged. These three kind of made it worse.”

Eris glanced back at the other women. The little girl—Ariadne—was animatedly discussing something, waving her hands around for emphasis. She elbowed Nyx, who reluctantly smiled back. Had Eris ever been that happy? She’d had moments of laughter—small, stolen ones with Xander. When she forgot about who they were, and that she was supposed to kill him. When she took his firewolf figurine out of its permanent place in her pocket and remembered someone in the universe cared about her. That was happiness, of a sort, too.

And she’d had them with Clo, before their last mission. Nights staring out at the sands of Nova. Alcohol to soothe the guilt.

Her friendships had a history of not ending well.

“They were scared,” Eris murmured. “Running isn’t a decision made lightly. Fear makes you do desperate things.”

Clo gave her a sharp glance. “How would you know? Don’t they train it out of you?”

“No. No, they didn’t.” She ignored the first part of the question.

A beep of an oncoming ship requesting to board sounded. The screen showed Kyla’s craft anchoring itself to the loading bay. “Let her in. Let’s get this over with.”

Clo flipped the switches to open the shaft doors. “Done. It’ll take her a few minutes to dock.” She pointed her chin at the strangers. “What about them?”

Eris studied the three with a calculating, narrowed gaze. “The little girl and the courtesan seem fine. The soldier? Thinking about killing us.”

Clo made a face.

“You know I’m right.” Eris lifted a shoulder. “Let Kyla handle them.”

As if sensing they were being discussed, the women all looked over. Eris didn’t change her expression. Let them try and kill her. They’d just be three more in a very, very long line of corpses. The God of Death would only receive more offerings from His favorite subject.

“Just to let you know,” Rhea called, “I have freakishly good hearing.”