"No, you don't get it," she hissed back. "He's not just a guy, he is A-"
Above them, a low growl emanated from the top of the stairs leading down from the mezzanine floor. Ares' dog Sparta stood focused on Apollo, ears pricked, hackles raised and teeth bared. Ares had trained him young to recognise immortality. Dogs picked up on things that most people didn't, they were perceptive and clever if you got the right one. And Ares had. A couple of pups stood behind him, disturbed from their sleep by their sire's warning. The dog wasn't moving, yet, but the threat was there.
But the presence of Sparta indicated that Ares was in the building somewhere. Marcie clenched her fists.
The other gym users were starting to clear the area. They weren't about to get in the way of this fight. It wasn't Tragos who threw the first punch, it was someone on the other side, thinking he had the drop while Apollo was distracted by the dog. He was wrong.