49. In Which the First Tumbler Clicks Into Place
Chapter 49
In Which the First Tumbler Clicks Into Place
C allassa was feeling frantic this afternoon. Yesterday, she received a message that Valerius was growing impatient. A single raven feather lay under an expansive painting of Odysseus tied to the mast of his ship, resisting the siren’s song. Waves rolled violently on the canvas, swirling gray and deep blue, and there, somewhere he knew she’d find it, lay his calling card. She’d picked it up with trembling fingers and shoved it in the pouch at her waist just in time for Ellie to round the corner asking questions about Maximus. The most pressing was why a statue of him had a shield depicting the nine muses. It wasn’t just curious, Callassa knew it was almost traitorous for Olympians to align with the muses. Their daughters were known for their scheming. But the muses themselves were shifty at best. She was sure the great Athena wasn’t aware one of her captains claimed allegiance to them. And if the men knew, they kept tight-lipped. Curious indeed.
She had made plans last night to force those two together after their return but talked herself out of it. Wanting to stay in the safety of Liam’s arms one more night after she almost gave herself away in the study. If she were honest, she’d admit that the sneaking around, lying, and pretending were cracking her thin veneer like a china doll. Her only saving grace was Olympus. Olympians rarely asked questions, especially about origin, and she was thankful for that. She had flown under the radar and would have continued indefinitely had Valerius not made it abundantly clear he needed his toy immediately.
Ellie liked to perch herself in a window seat inside an alcove within the west wing before the evening meal. It overlooked the garden and was the perfect place for her to curl up. Callassa found her there over the last few days, reading or staring out the window. Given the damn stunt Maximus pulled this morning, she knew Ellie would be in the window seat this evening. The more time they spent together, the better friends they became. Her heart twisted in her chest, knowing what she needed to do, and she hoped Ellie would forgive her somehow. Plastering a smile onto her face, she turned the corner and saw her friend snuggled into the seat. Ellie’s knitting lay forgotten in her lap as she stared out the window.
As she approached, the gardens came into view. She had to hand it to Maximus and his nod to human myths. A hedge maze just outside this wing showcased a statue of a minotaur. She guessed even the minotaur themselves would find humor in the statue’s placement. Reaching Ellie, she plopped down in the window seat, setting Ellie’s feet in her lap, and laid her hands on top.
“Syren?” she exclaimed, startled out of her thoughts.
“Evening, little lamb,” Callassa said, leaning one shoulder against the glass. Ellie picked up her hook and yarn, suddenly remembering what she was doing, and made several loops. Callassa watched her for a few stitches before she lifted a brow.
“Knitting?”
“It’s not knitting, it’s crochet, and yes, I find it relaxing.”
“Relaxing?” She watched as the hook darted in and out of the yarn, picking up loops and dropping them, the instrument gliding with the ease of an expert hand.
Ellie snorted a laugh. “You look perplexed, Syren.”
“I would have never picked that up. I did needlework for a while, but more important things got in the way, and eventually, I forgot about it.”
Ellie half-smiled and nodded, her concentration on the task at hand. The ease with which she crafted was commendable, the stitches neat and even.
“Did you need something, Syren?” She lifted her head briefly but lowered it to watch her stitches. Callassa cleared her throat.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Word on the street is you had quite the run-in with a certain tall blond with white wings two nights ago.”
Ellie stopped mid-stitch and jerked her head up. A wry smile curled its way across
Callassa’s mouth.
“The men are terrible gossips.”
Her jaw dropped, and she made a low gargling sound. “Those . . . I can’t believe they would talk about me and Evander. Especially after what happened today.”
Callassa snickered. “You can’t?”
“Well, yes, actually, I can, but still. How infuriating.”
“Okay, so,” she whispered, leaning on Ellie’s legs. “How was he?”
Ellie whispered back. “Are we really doing this?” She leaned back against the pillows. “This is so high school. Hold on, I’ll meet you by my locker after homeroom.” She rolled her eyes.
“Fine, don’t tell me. Must have been nothing to talk about. Which is a shame, really, him being so—well”—she made a crude gesture with her hand—“attuned to himself. I figured he’d welcome the chance to get a little something from someone other than Mr. Left.” She shifted her weight and settled back into the window seat. Glancing out at the garden, she did her best to look bored, and watched Ellie wrestle with herself. Biting the insides of her cheek and twisting her lips, she took up the weaving in her lap and continued for a few stitches before snorting through her nose.
“What did Liam tell you?”
The corners of Callassa’s mouth curled up. “Oh, nothing much. Just that yesterday morning, you emerged from the forbidden one’s chambers, hair a mess, dressed in one of Evander’s shirts and not much else. That a nightgown was somehow in the room and off your body. But the real question is, what exactly happened? Because, according to Liam, you looked damn fine in the morning light—hair mussed and bright-cheeked—but you both denied it.”
Ellie pursed her lips together and then pulled them into her mouth. Callassa knew she needed the right combination of thin instruments to pick this complicated lock.
“I’m embarrassed, is all,” she said to her lap.
“About what?” Callassa gestured for her to continue, pausing long enough for Ellie to feel comfortable about spilling the truth.
Ellie placed her crochet in her lap. “I don’t wanna say.”
“Little lamb, if you can’t say what you did, you don’t need to be doing it.”
“I was dumb. So dumb. And most men hate it, and I just”—she huffed—“but it was—you know. And with him, it was different. Better. I’m embarrassed, but I shouldn’t be. I want it. I initiated it, but maybe it was wrong.”
“Different? Like, how kinky are we talking?”
“Not that. Although, I did like it when—” She made a gargling sound in the back of her throat.
“Lamb, you’ll need to help me out here.”
“I went down on Evander,” Ellie whispered.
Callassa looked around them and leaned in. “And?” she whispered back.
“And what?” She shot her an annoyed look. “And nothing. I went down on him, and it was so damn hot. But I shouldn’t have.”
Callassa shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t get it. You have done that before, yes?”
She nodded.
“So, what’s the issue?”
“Syren, we were in the sitting room between our rooms. Out in the open. Anyone could have seen what I was doing.”
“Ellie, I still don’t see how that’s embarrassing.”
“It was out in the open. Penn would have . . .”
“Penn?” Callassa interrupted.
“My ex-husband. He would have never allowed me to do that out where people could see.”
She stared at her before it clicked what Ellie was saying. “Oh. Oh, little lamb. Did old Penn not like oral?”
“Not that he didn’t like it. It’s that I like it.”
Callassa nodded in understanding. She had met men like this in the human world. Men who would criticize and degrade women if they liked any part of sex. They threw around terms like “slut” like grenades to harm and embarrass.
“What would Penn have said?”
Ellie looked out the window. “He would have liked it at the moment, but the next morning, he would have told me how terrible it was. How I should have more self-respect.”
“And what did Evander say?”
She shrugged and shook her head.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.” Ellie pinched her eyebrows together, a thoughtful expression creasing her forehead. “He said nothing. The next morning, he gave me the dress and was bringing me breakfast in bed.” She looked up at Callassa, conflict in her eyes. “I took advantage of him, Syren. He should be embarrassed. I was turned on, and so was he, but I asked him to do something he may not have wanted. And he brings me breakfast and apologizes for not following me. And he smiled. He smiled, and I couldn’t breathe.”
Callassa watched as Ellie worked through her feelings and thoughts in real time, weighing the two significant men in her life and coming out with Evander as the winner.
“Honey.” She softened her expression. Her friend tended to overthink things, that was part of her charm, but this seemed extreme. That asshole ex-husband did a number on her. Callassa had the sudden urge to find the prick and kick his ass.
“If Evander was bringing you breakfast in bed, I doubt anything embarrassed him. He doesn’t strike me as the type to do something he doesn’t want to. And little lamb, he wants you. Let me ask you, how many years were you married?”
“Eighteen, why?”
“And in all that time, did your husband make you ever feel the way Evander does?”
“No, but Syren, it’s so complicated. I’m part of the curse or a prophecy—I don’t know. And he”—she sighed—“he’s part of the inner circle of Athena. His vow is binding.”
She rubbed her binding cuffs, understanding how Evander felt—conflicted over what was right versus what he wanted.
“Besides, I’m only here for a few more days. The deal is almost up, and I’ll be returning to the humans, to my home. Evander will stay here. It was stupid to start anything up. We can never be together in any real way. He always looks out for my safety; it’s time I return the favor.”
“Aside from this morning when he teamed up with Maximus.”
Ellie made another gargling sound. “That. What the hell was that?”
“Stupid on Max’s part, that’s for sure. The men moved so fast that I wasn’t sure what was happening. I watched you plummet, thinking someone had to catch you. Then Evander almost didn’t. I don’t think anyone breathed until you were safely on the ground. It was a stupid move.”
Ellie nodded.
“But you realize that wasn’t Evander’s idea. He didn’t know Maximus would fly off with you and surely didn’t think he’d just drop you. I thought he was going to kill him when he set you down.”
“He was screaming at me.”
“Out of fear, lamb, not rage. When you left, he was a wreck. He almost came to blows with Maximus, had his sword drawn, and swung it at him. I’m certain Maximus thought you would do something, but he didn’t count on your response to be freeze.”
Ellie was shaking her head. “I told Camulos I didn’t feel like I knew my powers well enough.”
“I’m certain Evander has been thrashing himself all afternoon.”
She nodded in agreement.
“My point is, vow or not, there is something between the two of you. Something neither of you can ignore.”
“But what’s the point, Syren?”
“The point?”
“After all this is over, what would have been the point? Evander will have to answer to some council for sleeping with me, which could cost him everything.”
“So?” Exasperated at talking around this, she shrugged, trying to play it off. Ellie was never going home. Valerius would soon lock her away and do whatever he wanted, courtesy of their deal.
“It’s not worth it, not for him or me. I was supposed to be relaxing on a Greek beach. Not sitting on Olympus waiting for a legion of mercenaries or a pissed-off goddess to come and hunt me down. Sex with me isn’t worth the risk.”
Callassa ground her teeth and tried not to bang her head against the wall. She changed tactics and briefly wondered if summoning Eros and his damned arrows would be cheating.
“Ellie, no one is asking you to marry the guy.”
“And?”
“And? You are making this more complicated than it needs to be. Look, I like sex. I especially like it with Liam. I’m not making a tremendous deal out of sleeping with him. We both know this is temporary. This arrangement is for our pleasure and nothing more.” She ignored the voice in her head that screamed mated and continued. “When I leave, I won’t feel ashamed because I fucked a guy. I’m on vacation. You know what I do feel?”
Ellie shrugged.
“Anger. I feel anger for you. You are worth the risk, Ellie. Damn it. How dare that ex-husband of yours make you feel like some sex act that both people enjoy is shameful. How dare he make you feel small and tear you down. I told you that you were the prize and, lamb, I meant it. It wasn’t lip service. You are worth it, Ellie. You are worthy of him.”
Ellie wordlessly nodded, and Callassa knew this was the right tool and combination of words and emotions. She could almost hear the tumblers falling into place, unlocking her cage.
“If you want to sleep with Evander, do it. You’re plenty old enough to know what you want.”
Ellie thought for a moment. “But the council.”
She was losing patience. Trying to get Ellie out of her head was almost impossible. “Honey, how will they know?”
“What?”
“How will they know? What, does his dick glow bright green?”
She had struck the right combination because Ellie frowned thoughtfully.
“I don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t. The only way anyone will know is if one of these men tells. And they won’t. They are protective of him, trying to give him every opportunity to walk away. Trying to make him choose. But Ellie, you two are pulled together. Like magnets. He is choosing you.”
“They won’t know.”
“No. They won’t know. Ellie, what if Athena comes tomorrow? And all this ends? What will you regret more? Being unable to decide because of too many what-ifs? Or not letting yourself enjoy one night with a man who looks at you the way Evander does?”
Ellie pursed her lips together.
“The choice is yours,” Callassa said with a shrug. She flicked her eyes over Ellie’s shoulder, then back.
“I need to get going. I have a dinner date with Liam and need to get undressed.” She winked and rose to go. Ellie sat motionless, her crochet in her lap, a faraway look in her eye. Callassa looked down at her and, for a moment, felt sorry for what she was about to do. But freedom is a powerful motivator. It was so close she could feel the heaviness lifting from her shoulders. She just had to click the last tumbler into place, and she would be out of her iron cage.
“Ellie,” she said, her voice soft. Their eyes met, and she gave her a kind smile. “Listen to me. Dick is everywhere, but chemistry, like you two have, that’s rare. I know which one I’d choose if I were you.”
She left quickly, letting her words fall to the ground, heavy and pregnant with meaning. Ambling down the corridor, she waited until Ellie was out of sight, then rushed down the hall. She turned once, then twice, weaving through the estate into the belly where no one would detect her magic. Coming to a narrow door that looked just right to be wrong, it stood in a row of other doors at the bottom of stone stairs. Opening it, she walked through. Her shoes slipped on the gravel, but she rushed into the cave. She needed to be in a neutral location to summon Athena’s owl, some place where the gods or goddesses couldn’t feel the summons, or worse, Camulos. He could unravel this whole thing if she weren’t careful.
Callassa whistled several octaves lower than her voice. It didn’t reverberate off the walls but floated through the air. Grabbing one of the torches, she waved her hand, and it lit, the flame blazing forth and then settling. Finding a rock to sit on, she lowered herself down.
And now to wait.
It wouldn’t take long for the owl to appear; Aro always came to a summons. For a few moments, she let herself feel guilty. Guilty for deceiving Liam. Guilty for the part she would play in the capture of Ellie. Guilty for her unholy alliance with Valerius. She closed her eyes. The end of this nightmare she had endured for centuries was almost over, the call of freedom beckoning her. With the Kalypso Orb, she could free herself and her people and start fresh. She needed her kingdom back, the control of the Congress eliminated, and the corrupt senators disbanded. Her mind wandered back over her time in the company of the five she had grown fond of. Their banter and laughter would all be memories she’d hold close to her when the pain of her betrayal tried to eat her alive. Her heart grew heavy thinking of Liam.
Her mate.
Her one to protect.
Her partner.
He’d hate her.
Lost in a sea of guilt and shame, she almost didn’t hear the owl land. For a moment, she thought of abandoning the plan, lying to the owl, Valerius, Aerelia. Just running away.
“Hello, little friend,” she cooed, putting out her arm as a perch. Soundless, Aro flapped her wings and settled herself. She turned her head, blinking one eye and then the other.
“I have a message for Athena.”