“We’re going to see if we can’t find Zeus. He can fix this mess of a wall and the humans herding us behind it. He’s got it in him to rule, to show the humans we can all live side by side.” She pushed aside a huckleberry bush and held it for me, and I stepped through the opening. The cries of birds cut off in midtweet as we walked, and I looked up. The birds hadn’t left; they’d only gone silent as we passed. Why did I think it was my fault?

Call it a hunch, but I was betting most birds didn’t like a snake near their homes.

“I’m sorry, Zeus? Greek god of thunder and lightning?” Tad bit the words out with more than a little edge to them.

Damara nodded as if he hadn’t been rude. “We need a leader for the Supes who is not a vampire. Someone impartial who can actually do the job. Someone who can advocate with the human government. Remo is strong, but he isn’t strong enough, and the humans will never fully trust him because of what he is. We need someone who’s done this job before. Zeus ruled Olympus for a long, long time. He defeated a lot of bad shit out there and kept the supernatural world running smoothly for thousands of years.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did he not also cause his own amount of trouble too? From what I recall of Greek mythology, he was hardly a saint.”

Damara sniffed. “Most leaders aren’t, Alena. And if someone in charge says they are a saint, they’re a liar.”

Tad grabbed my hand. “Well, good luck with all that. You know, finding a god that no longer exists.”

The two satyr boys shared a glance, and Gavin shook his head. “You don’t understand. There have been sightings of the old heroes. Someone is bringing them back to life.”

A laugh burst out of Tad. “That doesn’t mean shit. Someone who dresses up like Hercules and straps a sword to his waist does not make him Hercules. Makes him a nut.”

Damara didn’t seem bothered by his assessment. “The heroes only arise when there is a need. Think of it as being woken from a deep sleep and called out of retirement.”

“Wait.” I held up a hand. “I know the stories. The heroes all died at some point no matter how strong they were. Even those who were demigods like Hercules. So how can they be called out of retirement?”

Damara shook her head before I even finished my question. “A true hero never really dies; neither do the old gods, for that matter—but I’m getting sidetracked. The heroes only show up when the monsters—the true monsters—begin to revisit this world. Heroes and monsters, they are tied to one another. Which means we need to be on the lookout for the big bad uglies. Someone is changing the game, and we need to take advantage of it.”

A shiver ran through me. “What kind of monsters?”

“Hydra, Drakaina, Cerberus, Gorgon, Medusa. They are the ones the heroes were brought forth to fight in the past. If the heroes are showing up, that means the monsters are going to show up too, if they haven’t already. Can you imagine the human government trying to figure out how to deal with Medusa as she turned people to stone around her? The humans would go mental and bomb every Supe in sight simply because they found a really bad apple.” Damara lifted both eyebrows.

She had a point. Turning people into stone when you tried to have a discussion with them would be a problem. “And finding Zeus could fix this?”

“He could manage the relations between humans and Supes. That was his job description back in the day,” she said.

We came to a small clearing where two paths branched off. Damara, Tim, and Gavin headed to the left. Tad tugged on me to the right. “Let’s go.”

Damara turned and lifted a hand. “Good luck, you two. And thanks. If you ever have need of me, you can call on me.”

I waved back, but before I could say anything else they melted into the foliage as if they’d never been there.

“Do you think they’re right?” I asked Tad as we walked along the slowly widening path.

“No. The old gods are gone. They have been for a long time, even assuming they existed in the first place. We’re on our own, and they’re on a wild goose chase.”

“Then how do you explain Damara? She said she’s a natural. She isn’t like us, turned into whatever we are.”

“I know what I am.” Tad glanced at me. “It’s you we have to figure out. And there are naturals in every species, except vamps, of course. You do know how babies are made, right? You and Roger did have sex at least once?”

“I am not discussing my sex life—”

“Or lack thereof,” he interjected.

“—with you.” I glared at him.

He went on as if I weren’t trying to pin him to the ground with my eyes. “Didn’t you wonder why Damara had two guys with her? Those satyrs are known for their sex parties. Not that I’ve ever been, of course; Mother would disapprove, and I’d never do anything to make her upset with me.”

That was a total lie, but it took me a moment to realize what he’d implied.

I blanched, moral outrage making me splutter. “You’ve . . . been . . . to one of the parties, haven’t you? Tad, that’s awful!”

“Actually, awful is not exactly the word I’d use.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Good, he wasn’t going to do it again.

He grinned at me and shook his head. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had. Even if I’m not really sure who it was with.” He winked, and I stood there with my jaw hanging.