Kaden bought his chips with him like a shield, slumping so far down in an armchair that he was almost resting on the middle of his spine. The guilt piled up on top of him, he’d already gone to Aphrodite for help and he was using her money in a way she hadn’t intended and he felt awful, but… asking for her help now, the risks were too high. Not after all he and Tragos had decided to do.
Tragos was shaking his head. “I’m not turning Kaden into a pawn of the gods,” he said firmly (Kaden threw his arm over his eyes and sank a little lower). “Aphrodite might help Kaden, for now, but she’s not keen on me.” He’d seen the way she looked at him when he’d had his arms wrapped protectively around Melpomene, holding her back from the fight; there was no love lost there. “Athena is far too cunning to trust. And Hecate-” Tragos hesitated, watching Marcie’s face, and the barrage of shit he was already putting her through. “I’m the one who shot Hecate. She’s not going to help me.”
“He only did it to stop me doing it,” Kaden dropped the arm that hid his face a little, just enough to look at Marcie, deadly serious. She wasn’t allowed to be mad at Tragos for this. “It was Barak - that night was all Barak.”
“Either way,” Tragos said firmly. “I am not trusting someone I shot to save my life, or Kaden’s. We’re way fucking safer on our own. I trust you and I trust Kaden, that is it.”