"Depends on the god," Tragos retorted, muscles tight as he considered stepping between Athena and Marcie's door, like her glance was a threat.
Every part of his life had started looking up after Melpomene let her knife slip, and he'd never been part of anything as strong - as unstoppable - as he was as part of Ares' crowd. Attention from Ares and Melpomene was still very much a matter of pride. The others, though? "Apollo can go fuck himself. Hecate-" he bit down on his tongue. Hecate gave him the creeps.
She hadn't said anything to him about the shooting, but she stared a lot, and something about her presence gave him goosebumps.