SNIFFLING LOUDLY, Dahlia wipes the tears from her eyes. "Give me the sword." She holds out her hands. Her voice is robotic. "I'd rather do it myself than let some two-faced Gemini kill me."
Dahlia, Marisol, and Ezra have been through astrology with me time-and-time again. Usually on a daily basis, as they pour over their horoscopes. I'm a Pisces. Marisol's the Gemini. Dahlia, I know, is very much aware of the fact that I am very much not one.
I place the sword in her trembling, sweaty hands. She nearly drops it at first, before getting a proper hold of it, wrapping her fingers around the hilt. Tears dripping down her cheeks, she presses the blade against her own throat. I move to grab for her, scared she'd misunderstood me, scared she really is going to take her own life.
Then she lunges towards Apollo, bursting out in uncontrollable sobs. The blade cuts deep into his gut, spilling golden gore all over the iron.
He gasps. She gasps. Her eyes roll back in her head.
She's going to pass out again before she manages to kill him.