The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(43)

He had one advantage. He wasn’t an athlete by any stretch of the imagination, but Lamia looked like she would have a hard time getting from her couch to the fridge. He could run and outlast her, no matter what kind of monster she was.

She was about ten feet away now. Claymore gave her a defiant smirk, then turned and sprinted down Main Street. There were only a dozen shops in the center of town, and the street was too open. He’d have to turn on Second Avenue, possibly lose her on one of the side streets. Then he’d return to his home, trip his security, and get in touch with the police. Once he was there, he’d…

“Incantare: Gelu Semita!” Lamia screamed behind him.

That was Latin…an incantation. She was reciting some sort of spell.

He didn’t have time to translate the phrase before the air around him seemed to drop thirty degrees. Even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, hail started to fall. He turned, but Lamia was gone.

“Incantation: Path of Frost…” he translated aloud, his breath steaming. “Really? She’s using magic? This is ridiculous!”

Then her voice spoke behind him: “You truly are an intelligent man, Mr. Claymore. Now I understand why my brother seeks you.”

He spun toward her voice, but again she wasn’t there.

Playing more games with him…Fine. He would have to do more than just run away. She wasn’t human, but he would approach her like any adversary. He would have to study his opponent, learn her weaknesses.

And then he would make his escape.

He held his hand out to the hail. “I might not have known this was possible ten minutes ago, but I understand one thing: if this is the extent of your power, it’s no wonder we don’t see more monsters like you!” He grinned. “We must have killed them all!”

She hissed in fury. The hail started coming down harder, filling the air with icy mist. He held out his gun, ready for her to come at him from any angle.

Even though he didn’t care for fiction, he’d spent his career researching ancient beliefs. Incantations were actually a simple concept: if you say something with enough power behind it, it can come true.

This incantation had to be a translocational spell of some sort. Otherwise she wouldn’t have used the word semita. She was making a path for herself, and this ice was the method of travel—obscuring her location and making it hard for Claymore to move or anticipate her next attack.

It was meant to unnerve him, but he forced himself to focus. The ground around him was now covered with ice. He stayed still and listened. He knew she would use the opportunity to strike.

She may have been toying with him, but Claymore had no intention of dying at the hands of an idiot like her, especially if she fell for his taunt so easily.…

Claymore heard the telltale sound of her high heels crunching against the ice. He whirled immediately, sidestepping as she raked her claws at the spot where he’d been standing. Before she could get back her balance, he fired.

Her left kneecap exploded into black dust, and the hail died down. Lamia stumbled, though by the look on her face, the wound didn’t even faze her.

The lower half of her leg had disintegrated, but it was already re-forming.

He hadn’t expected to kill her this time. He watched carefully as she healed, timing her regeneration. With one bullet, he estimated he’d bought himself a minute of time.

“You still don’t understand, mortal!” she said. “Those weapons can’t kill me! They can only slow me down!”

Claymore looked at her and laughed. “If you think I’m trying to kill you, you must really be daft! Obviously, I know you’re immortal now, so why would I even try? No, I can’t kill you. But I have gleaned something interesting from our time together.” He aimed his gun. “You don’t want to kill me right away. Otherwise you wouldn’t have wasted your time pelting me with ice cubes. You want to scare me, hoping I’ll lead you to the boy. He’s a threat to you, isn’t he? All I have to do is find him so he can dispose of you properly. And I know exactly where he is!”

She hissed as her leg reattached, but he shot off her other one.

“If I had enough bullets I could sit here all day!” Claymore jeered. “You’re helpless! Maybe I should just get a vacuum and be done with you!”

He thought that the beast would realize she was at his mercy by now, but for some reason, she still smiled.

The hail had completely died down. What was on the ground had already melted back into nothingness, so he knew whatever spell she was using was over. How did she still have the audacity to smile?

“You really are the most arrogant mortal I’ve ever seen! Fine! If you won’t lead me to the boy, I’ll take pleasure in destroying you!” She flicked a serpentlike tongue. “Incantare: Templum Incendere!”

“Temple of Fire,” Claymore translated.

Probably an offensive spell—he was about to be attacked by fire somehow. He shot her restored leg back into dust and ran.

The spell obviously didn’t work immediately, but he had no intention of finding out what it did. He was about to take advantage of the fact that no other mortal could see him.

He did a full sprint back to Black’s Coffee and pushed through the door.

Black must have been having a really, really good time polishing cups because he was still doing it.