"That one in the middle was a bitch," Syris said quietly. "I wonder what type of stick she has up her ass."
Altair turned, eying Syris. "She can hear you, you know."
Syris shrugged. As if she cared about such things. "Good. Then she can hear that she's a damn fool. I'm not sure if it's because she stood on her throne for so long, but insulting the man by giving them opportunity is idiotic."
Altair was in agreement. The new gods had been on a mission. And he wasn't sure why. But they were killing off the Old Gods, taking what was theirs without regard for morality. Stepping into power, news outlets on Genisis had reported the deaths of many Old Gods.
The New Gods were united, unlike the Old Gods, who sought only to live in seclusion or upon their pedestal.
Sauntering towards his new target, one Athena had told him much about. He smiled, holding the stunning figure of Hestia, surrounded by chattering men and women yet secluded from sight.
