"Damn straight." There was an iron edge to her voice. Apollo was her twin, the other half of her soul, and she felt the sharp pain of the killing blade as surely as if it had been plunged into her own gut. There would be redress.
But, deprived of a target, she was left feeling tense and irritable. The not-knowing itched at her. Somewhere in the world, her brother's killer walked free, and the thought of that was intolerable. She couldn't wait for Hermes to do his psychopomp thing, she decided. Soon as she was done here, she'd go to Apollo's frat and see what kind of trail she could pick up. Much as she hated all the Brads and Chads and Tads that her brother chose for his followers, in this instance they might actually be of use to her.
Annoyed with the world, she took another gulp of wine. "Fuck, this is some bullshit."