I must have fallen asleep at some point because it was Ares who woke me the first time. My mind came back slowly and unevenly and he was pacing inside it, making small distressed sounds.
What is going on? I asked.
"Something feels wrong," he said.
I told him to settle and he did, reluctantly. I drained the rest of the whiskey from the glass still sitting in my hand and let the burn of it help push me back under. Nearly three days without proper sleep was taking a serious toll and my body was not interested in remaining conscious any longer than it had to.
The second time I woke it was Ares again, and this time he was not pacing. He was in a full and incoherent panic, trying to communicate something he did not have the words for.
I sat up on the sofa and rubbed my face and tried to make sense of what he was telling me.
"Something is not right," was all he could give me. "Something is happening."
