Realization struck. Lou had erased the rune on the sandy floor to give my mother time to paint a summoning symbol for Apollo in her blood. That small span of time without the rune had allowed her message to reach him. How my mother and Lou had worked in tandem, I had no idea.

“Your mother’s beauty isn’t her only crowning glory.” Apollo winked in Calliope’s direction, as if reading my mind.

Her lashes lowered as she curtsied.

“Shall we finish this fight? Together?” Father asked me.

Calliope threaded her arms through Apollo’s, her cheeks glowing a perfect pink. “I’ve missed you, my love.” Her doting eyes never left him.

My gaze traveled back down to Lou, her features slack. Her fire had fled, leaving little trace of the woman I loved in this shell I clutched in desperation. But no matter how hard I clung, the future we would have had together slipped from my grasp.

I slid her off my lap and closed her eyelids with a farewell caress. Fury exploded the moment my skin left hers, blasting me to my feet. I rent the dagger from Lou’s chest, the only weapon in my reach. I tattooed my trousers with her blood coating the blade. I looked to Apollo with sorrow-stung eyes.

“With pleasure, Father,” I roared.

Armed with memories of every siren slayed by my hand, I clenched the jeweled hilt and faced the horde. Not a soul would be spared.

I swiped at the siren nearest me, the blade slashing across her eyes. With a fluting cry, she buckled and fell dead. My brow raised in question toward my father.

“That’s no ordinary dagger.” He flashed me a smile over his shoulder. “It was crafted by Zeus. When held by someone with divine blood, just one touch to a lesser being’s flesh will kill it instantly.” Apollo threw his father’s electrified bolts from a hip quiver fashioned by their maker, Hephaestus. Each projectile hissed in flight and crackled outward in a bronze blaze when they zapped their targets.

I growled as I sliced another siren. “That would have been helpful information to have prior to this quest.”

Apollo shrugged as he dispatched another. “Better late than never,” he called, throwing another bolt like a javelin at an oncoming pair of sirens. Orange and yellow sparks exploded like arrows across the room.

Treading water, hidden behind her frozen wave throne, Lorelei shouted, “Attack! After them, you fools!”

For the first time in my life, my sister retreated, acting the coward and hiding while she tossed her people into the fray, rather than charging at their front. My gaze flitted to the God Slayer. This weapon, my blood, Apollo fighting by my side—she feared death, and I had concocted the perfect recipe for her demise. My lips peeled upward into a cruel, unforgiving smile.