Chapter 60 Mythic.

Chapter 60: 60 Mythic.

"You there!"

I groaned, pressing my palms against my face. How the hell had I managed to forget about Divina?

Slowly, I turned away from my car.

She was standing at the opposite end of the alley, hands planted firmly on her hips and her head tilted back as she stared me down with enough righteous fury to power a small city.

The dumpster dive had clearly not been kind to her. Her hair was a mess, and there was some unidentified substance smeared along one side of her face that I had absolutely no interest in investigating.

She stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight, the bracers around her wrists catching the light as she fixed me with a look of pure condemnation.

She was beautiful in that almost unnatural, classical way, like someone had carved a Greek statue and decided to give it an attitude problem. And right now, with the way she seemed to practically radiate light, she looked even more divine than usual.

Which meant...

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

It was bad enough that I was dealing with a streeter, one of those heroes who operated independently instead of working for a corporation, handing out their own brand of street justice to anyone they personally decided was breaking the law. But this one was a fucking Mythic.

So much for the assumption that the whole costume-and-god-act was just that—an act. Apparently, this was actually who she was.

Of all the heroes you could run into, Mythics were among the absolute worst. Streeters were already enough trouble, but once you started throwing divine bloodlines, ancient powers, and supposed godly inheritances into the mix, things got considerably more insane.

The really dangerous part was that they could convince themselves they were doing the right thing with an intensity that made ordinary vigilantes look reasonable. It was one thing for some asshole to believe he was justified in beating criminals to a pulp. It was another when literal divinity was apparently whispering in his ear that, yes, absolutely, go ahead and crack open that sinner’s skull.

The lightning guy from the heist was a perfect example, with all his talk about Zeus and gods and whatever else he’d been babbling about.

But the real question was how the hell this particular one kept managing to find me.

"Look, can we skip the rematch?" I asked. "I just got my ass kicked by a rubber band from the sixties. I’d really rather not add a divine beating to the list."

"Then you will surrender, mortal!" she proclaimed. "For you stand before Divina!"

Naturally, she drew her sword again.

She leveled the weapon at me, her expression becoming even more severe as she settled into what was presumably her heroic stance.

"I am daughter of the gods, heir to Artemis, forged from elemental clay itself! I have descended into this mortal realm to shield the innocent and correct the wicked, and you shall be the first wrong I set right!"

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Not only was she a Mythic, she was apparently brand new to the mortal world. That explained a lot.

I was probably the first villain she’d encountered and, judging by the way she was acting, she’d apparently decided to make me her personal introduction to crime-fighting.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time or the privacy for this. I was still a civilian, and if somebody caught this little showdown on camera, I was going to have a hell of a problem.

"Uh-huh," I said, letting my gaze drop to her sword as my powers reached out and resonated with the magnetic field surrounding the metal. "Here’s the thing, though. I really don’t feel like surrendering."

I gave my finger a small twitch.

The sword ripped itself from her grasp.

Before she could even react, I sent the blade screaming across the alley and buried it almost to the hilt in the brick wall beside us. It sank so deep that I suspected you’d need an actual king to pull the damn thing free.

Divina stared at the empty hand she’d been holding the sword with, then slowly turned her furious gaze back toward me.

"Miscreant!" she snapped, curling both hands into fists. "I am a god! Your petty tricks cannot sway me!"

"Okay, listen, there is actually a very good reason I did that, and it’s—"

"Die!"

She launched herself at me before I could finish.

I barely managed to sidestep the incoming fist, and instead of connecting with my face, it slammed into the side of my car.

The Crown rocked violently on its axle, and the door crumpled inward beneath the impact.

I stared at the dent.

"My fucking car!"

That was it.

I’d had enough.

Magnetism surged through me, lifting me from the ground by the anklets and armbands I was wearing as I rose into the air, easily slipping beyond the reach of another furious swing.

From above, I quickly studied Divina.

A lot of Mythics relied on celestial blood or divine heritage to grant them their powers, but plenty of them still had a weakness somewhere. Usually there was a catalyst involved, something that their abilities depended on.

Sometimes it was something ridiculous, like magically empowered hair. Other times it was an unfortunate ankle injury or some mystical weapon they absolutely couldn’t function without.

Divina’s sword obviously wasn’t the answer.

But the amulet lodged in her neckpiece was another matter entirely.

It gleamed beneath the moonlight, strange Greek lettering etched across its surface, and everything about it screamed mystical artifact.

I extended a hand toward the nearby fire escape and pulled.

Old metal groaned as the entire structure tore loose from its mountings.

"You will not escape me simply because you can fly, villain!" Divina declared, lowering herself into a crouch as she prepared to leap after me.

"Yeah?" I said.

My powers latched onto the neckpiece.

I yanked.

The entire thing tore free.

It was almost comical how quickly the change happened. The moment it left her body, the divine radiance surrounding her faded as though someone had flipped a switch.

Her leap lost almost all of its force, carrying her barely a few inches from the ground before she dropped back down.

Then she shrieked.

Her skirt had fallen with the sudden loss of whatever was holding it together, exposing a pair of white lacy panties.

Whoops.

"Bastard!" she squealed, her face going bright red as she immediately bent down and grabbed the skirt, desperately hauling it back into place.