The Struggle(70)

Slowly lowering my fork, I raised my brows. “Nice of you to include me in this decision you’ve already made.”

“You’re welcome. And just so you know, I’ve made a couple more decisions,” Seth tacked on, and I preemptively put the fork down before I turned it into a weapon. “You’re not doing the whole search-and-rescue mission. We have to figure out how to get those damn bands off your wrists. That’s the plan.”

“Uh-oh,” whispered Alex.

Aiden leaned forward, resting his arms on the counter. “Seth sort of has a point.”

“Holy shit, someone record this,” Seth said.

Aiden’s eyes narrowed, but he ignored Seth. “You need to get better, Josie. You need to heal.”

“I get that, but what then?” I looked around me, my gaze settling on Alex before I twisted toward Seth. The sharp motion did not sit well with my stomach. I guessed the food hadn’t helped. “I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing for the rest of eternity. The Titans are still out there, and I wasn’t the only demigod Capri Sun they were keeping prisoner. They already killed one of the demigods, and if we don’t do something they’ll kill Mitchell. He’s still there.”

Alex straightened. “You saw them?”

Shooting Seth a look that promised we’d so be discussing this later, I focused on Alex. “Yes. One of them was named Lauren. She . . . she died. They drained her and left her to die.”

“Gods,” Aiden muttered.

I took a deep breath and ignored the rapid twisting my stomach was doing. “Mitchell was in bad shape. He’s not going to last much longer. We have to get him out of there.”

Seth’s jaw locked down.

“We’re not leaving him there to die.” I scowled at him. “Did you really think that I’d be okay with that?”

Topaz eyes met mine. “No, I don’t expect that. I know you don’t want to hear this, but if he was in such bad condition, he may not be alive.”

“We don’t know that,” I argued. “We can’t give up and not—” A bitter knot moved up my throat and I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Oh God.”

“What?” Seth was immediately off his stool, standing in front of me.

Alex and Aiden faded together into the background as my stomach heaved. I slid off the stool. “I . . . I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Vomit sick?” Surprise filled Seth’s face.

“Yeah—oh God.” I swallowed, and immediately regretted it. “Where’s a—?”

Seth wrapped an arm around my waist, and it felt like only a second passed before I was inside a bathroom. Pulling away from Seth, I dropped to my knees and lifted the lid of the toilet.

Stomach heaving, all those eggs and bacon came right back up. Gagging, I clutched the sides of the toilet. My eyes watered and it just kept coming and coming. Vaguely, I was aware of cool hands on my forehead, scooping my hair back.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity in a fresh circle of hell, there was nothing left to throw up. “Oh God,” I moaned.

“You all done?” Seth asked.

I winced. “I think so?”

Seth gently tugged me back from the toilet. I heard it flush and then I was cradled in his lap, my cheek resting on his shoulder as I concentrated on taking deep, even breaths. Several minutes passed as he rubbed the center of my back. Holy crap, I threw up. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had puked. When I was a child?

There was a knock on the door and I heard Alex ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Seth called out. “Just give us a few moments.”

“How are you feeling?” He smoothed my hair back off my clammy forehead.

I forced my eyes open. “Better. Stomach’s a little . . . wonky.”

“We need to get some water in you. Do you think you can handle that?”

“I think so. Oh man.” I tipped my head back. “That was so, so gross.”

Seth’s gaze found mine. Concern etched into his striking face. “Josie, you’re . . . you’re a demigod. You shouldn’t be sick.”

I stared at him, unsure of how to respond to that, because I had obviously just gotten very, very sick. “Maybe I just ate too much after not eating a lot?”

“I don’t know.” Seth didn’t sound like he thought that was the case. His gaze dropped, and I followed to see that he was looking at the bands on my wrists. “Maybe.”

If the bands were blocking my abilities, could they be slowing down how quickly I could recover? Could they be making me sick? My poor stomach dipped.

Could they be making me mortal?