She approached the city hall from the back alley. It was terrifying going in by herself, even though she knew the order members would be bursting in right after. The door creaked when she pushed it open, loud in the tense silence, and Alice winced.

                If Aphrodite hadn’t known she was here, she did now.

                The room she walked into was the same open space that Eric Revol’s book signing had been held in. Her eye was drawn the front of the room right away, to the red velvet curtains on the stage that were drawn back this time.

                “Well, well, well.” The woman on the stage gave a throaty chuckle as Alice walked in. “Welcome, little witch. Do come in.”

                The goddess of passion was tall, with dark skin that glowed in an almost ethereal fashion, and very red cheeks. Her lips were bright red as she smiled down at Alice. She wore a dress that hugged her curves so tightly it left very little to the imagination.

                Irrationally, Alice felt a twinge of jealousy.

                A second, smaller figure peeled off from the side of the stage and came to stand next to the goddess. Alice blinked. She’d been expecting Adonis. This woman was much shorter than Aphrodite. While the goddess of passion was all voluptuous curves and glossy chestnut hair, this woman was plains and angles, lean and hungry looking, with a halo of black hair that curled wildly about her head.

                This then was Eris, the one the order suspected was going up against them. Apparently they hadn’t thought she’d be here though. Now they might have to face three gods, instead of two.

                Alice forced herself to step forward in spite of the fear that was twisting her stomach. “Aphrodite, I presume.” She was proud of how calm she sounded, cool in fact.

                “Ah, the great witch, Alice.” Aphrodite breathed the last, rolling her tongue over the name, almost tenderly. When she moved down the steps of the stage her orange dress rippled like gentle waves. Alice watched as she approached, feeling almost mesmerized by her.

                “Alice Cunningham.” The goddess stopped in front of her, so close that she could feel Aphrodite’s breath on her cheek. A light scent washed over her, exotic fruit and fresh ocean breeze. Alice blinked, confused, as Aphrodite reached out and traced one finger down her arm.

                “Delicious,” she purred. “I can feel the power coursing through you, little witch.”

                Aphrodite’s lips were inches from her face. They were so red. So perfectly shaped. Alice found herself staring at the perfect way the goddesses’ lashes framed her almond-shaped eyes, the way her neck curved gracefully, long and slender.

                Her voice was low, so low that Alice was sure she was the only one who could hear her. The words were meant for her and nobody else. “What would that power taste like, little witch?”
                Alice felt Aphrodite’s hand in her hair, her mouth was inches away from her own, seconds away. So close.

                “Alice!”

                It was like having a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. Alice surfaced from her daze, gasping in shock. Altair was on the stage, trying to pull himself away from someone, the tall figure of Adam, who was wrestling with him, trying to drag him back off the stage.

                “Altair!” Alice started forward, but Aphrodite’s hand closed over her wrist. Her grip was so strong that Alice’s eyes began to water. Aphrodite yanked her back, her perfect face marred by a scowl.

                “I’m not finished with you, young lady.”

                The arrow. She had to get the arrow. What on earth had she been thinking? Reaching for her bag, Alice opened her mouth and screamed, hoping for a distraction. At the very same second the doors burst open and the members of the Halfmoon order burst in, brandishing their weapons and screaming loud enough to match her, their war cry echoing around the huge room.

                Aphrodite looked shocked. She dropped Alice’s arm and whirled to face the charging crowd. When she saw the weapons they were carrying her eyes grew wider. “Eris,” she said sharply, and then they were almost on her and she lifted her hands, smile wicked.

                Those in front of the crowd seemed to be struck by something, they halted, oblivious to the fact that the order members behind them were still charging, their eyes grew large and they dropped their weapons. They looked dazed, gazing at the goddess with glassy eyes. Aphrodite lifted her hands again, a look of concentration on her face. She wasn’t able to ensnare all of them though, and the rest of the order pushed past their lovesick comrades, brandishing their weapons in the air.

                Alice shrieked as she was pushed aside roughly, falling backwards. She struck her shoulders and upper back on a nearby chair, feeling pain shoot through her. Eris had rushed forward, laughing madly, waving her hands at the crowd. She let them get close, ducking as they swung their weapons, hair swinging around her face in tangled curls. She was laughing as she fought, and everyone she touched seemed to go mad, eyes rolling back in their heads, hands shaking and nerveless as they dropped their weapons on the ground. The room began to echo with shrill cries and shrieking laughter.

                This wasn’t a fair fight. In fact, the goddesses were hardly trying. They looked amused by the Half-moon Order’s attempts. Alice glanced back over her shoulder. Altair and Adonis were still grappling on stage, as she watched, Adonis seized Altair by the neck and held on. Instead of yanking his hands away, Altair went limp, eyes rolling back in his head.

                Alice scrambled to her feet, anger fueling her in spite of the pain that throbbed through her chest and shoulders. She launched herself up the stairs, flinging her hands out as she did, towards Adonis, towards the man who was killing Altair. The magic shot out and around him, she could feel the crackling energy as it left her body. Adonis had been distracted, staring down at Altair’s face, and now he cried out, nearly dropping the thief as he stumbled backwards.

                She hadn’t woven a proper spell, just thrown the raw magic at him in a blind rage. It appeared to be burning him somehow, and Adonis danced back, hissing through his teeth. “Stop that, or I’ll kill him.” He closed his hand around Altair’s throat again. The thief didn’t move, his head was dipped back and he hung limply in the god’s arms.

                Alice pulled her hands back, alarmed, and a smile slid over the god’s lips. He was all honey and sweetness again, trying to turn the charm back on. “Oh Alice,” he said her name in a disapproving way, as if he were scolding a little girl. “Look what you made me do. I thought we had fun together, our little dream dalliances.”

                “I never invited you into my dreams,” Alice said, curling her fists at her sides. “You intruded. How did you manage it?” Glancing down off the stage, she tried to keep an eye on how the Halfmoon Order was doing. George was advancing through the crowd, bearing down on both goddesses. The florescent lights glittered off the grey tinted sword in his hands. Aphrodite and Eris seemed to be taking him more seriously than the others. Wise, since all he’d need to do was cut a lock of their hair, and either one of them could be sent to the underworld. It wouldn’t kill them, but it wouldn’t be fun either.

                She shifted her attention back to Adonis. “How did you get into my dreams?”

                Adonis smiled, wide and white. He looked down at Altair. “Thieves and rouges are so easy to manipulate. You wouldn’t believe it.”

                Anger seared her insides, pulsing with each heartbeat. “You tricked him into taking something, didn’t you?”

                “A hairbrush belonging to my lover, yes.” Adonis glanced over at Aphrodite, he blinked at the sight of the sword of death. “Ah, how inventive of them. He must have paid a pretty penny to get his hands on that pig-sticker.” Again, he showed his teeth in an unpleasant smile. “And by pretty penny, I of course mean his soul.”

                “Don’t get off topic.” Alice glared at him. “So you tricked Altair into thinking this was a valuable artifact and it’s in my bedroom somewhere.”

                Adonis shrugged. “Hidden beneath the floorboards I would expect. So uninventive.” He clucked his tongue, shaking his head like a disapproving mother hen. “Alice dear, you can’t change a man’s behavior, don’t you know that yet? This little thief will always be a thief and a scamp.” He glanced down at Altair. “He is delicious though, isn’t he?”

                Alice narrowed her eyes at him. “Put him down.”

                “Jealous, are you?” Adonis grinned, reaching out to run one hand through Altair’s blonde hair. “Maybe I’ll keep him. Aphrodite seems to have grown fond of him. He’s very good looking. Of course, she’ll probably get sick of him and throw him away in a few days…”

                Alice shoved her hand into her pocket, digging around for the silver thread that Dana had given her, she pulled it out, leaving it nestled in her palm. Her other hand was resting on the moon shaped blade on her belt. “Do you know what this is?”
                Adonis’ eyes shot open wide, and for a few seconds his mouth worked and nothing came out. She’d been hoping he would drop Altair, but instead he held on to him tighter, narrowing his eyes at her. “How did you get that?”

                She shrugged. “Does it matter? I have it. And if you don’t give me back my boyfriend I’m going to cut it…short, you might say.” The look on his face was more than a little bit satisfying.

                “Fine,” Adonis growled. “I’ll give him to you in exchange for the thread.”

                “Absolutely not.” Alice stepped forward, tucking the thread back in her pocket. “I’ll keep it for insurance. You return Altair to me, and I won’t snip it. I have no interest in seeing you dead, I just want to be left alone.”

                “Take him then.” The god of beauty’s voice was sullen. He strode forward and thrust Altair at her. Cautiously, Alice took hold of his arms. He was heavy, still unconscious and a total dead weight. How on earth was she going to get out of here?

                Adonis turned away, grumbling. “I never wanted to be involved in this in the first place.” He sounded irritated, and Alice nearly sighed in relief, turning to grab Altair. Maybe if she dragged him to the back of the stage—

                Something slammed into her back, knocking her to the floor so hard that stars burst in front of her eyes. Adonis was yelling, demanding the thread, and she felt his hand on her waist, dragging her back towards him. She felt him grasp her hips and then she was flipped over onto her back, momentarily winding her. Adonis pinned her down with one arm, reaching for her pocket with his other hand.

                Struggling, kicking her legs wildly, Alice tried to throw him off. The room was filled with screaming, not hers, she realized. The order was losing. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see that George had been struck down, lying in the center of the floor. Probably dead.

                Eris was holding the sword now, examining it under the flickering light.

                The door burst open a second time, and there was a loud cry of, “Alice!” as Azura, Shakra, Maya and Gabriel hurtled through the doorway. Adonis jerked up, turning his head towards the noise, and Alice used the distraction to elbow him in the side of the head. He grunted, falling sideways, and Alice delivered a second blow with her magic, blasting him with both hands. A little more of the power drained out of her. She could feel herself growing weaker.

                Shooting to her feet, she hooked her hands beneath Altair’s armpits and yanked as hard as she could, dragging him off the stage and down the steps. She could still feel Adonis’ life thread pulsing in her pocket, and she vowed that once she got a few feet away from him, she would cut it. The circumstances didn’t allow for mercy, and he wasn’t exactly honourable anyways.