Chapter 3 Circe
Circe
“How does it feel to finally return home?”
I don’t look at the woman sitting next to me, keeping my attention on the buildings passing by as we lead the convoy of civilians through Olympus toward the university.
A calculated move on my part. Dodona Tower stands the tallest in the upper city, but it’s inextricably tied to Zeus.
I want no mistake made: I’m not stepping into the place his death will create.
I am something new.
“Home is a funny word, don’t you think?” I cross one leg over the other and sit back, finally turning my attention to Demeter.
She looks as pristine as always, a white woman in her middle years, hair still dark and hazel eyes still bright, but with enough lines and softness to generate instinctive trust when she turns a calculated, empathetic look your way.
Her floral wrap dress completes the earth-mother image she’s cultivated.
A clever decision, neatly sidestepping the obsession with youth so many of the legacy families fall victim to.
In the decade she’s held her title, she’s allowed herself to age gracefully—with some careful cosmetic procedures to slow the march of time rather than stop it.
“Circe,” she says carefully. She’s been oh so careful since we discovered her eldest daughter and son-in-law escaped our confines.
Or maybe it started when she realized exactly what I intended for the legacy families—and how that would affect two of her daughters, pregnant by legacy titles.
She smiles, all warmth and an invitation to divulge my secrets. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
I’ve played this game nearly as long as she has, and I’m all too aware of the strings to pull to generate favorable responses in the people around me.
Demeter excels at garnering loyalty among the citizens of Olympus, and her people specifically.
It was a boon when she approached me to join forces, but that doesn’t mean I trust her in the least.
“Home is a myth.” I wave a graceful hand at the world outside our armored SUV.
“It’s a comforting lie we tell ourselves is a place or a people, but really all it does is make us complacent.
If you’re comfortable in your home, you’re not looking to your neighbor or farther afield to the dangers that hunts you both. ”
Her smile is a bit too tight to be believable. “You have a lovely way with words.” She glances behind us to the car that holds Psyche and Eros, her daughter and son-in-law—the ones I still have in custody. Neither took this recent turn of events well, but they didn’t manage to slip from my grasp.
Neither did Hera and Zeus—at least not without help.
The dead guards outside their hastily constructed cell speak to that.
I have no reason to believe it was Hecate—Hermes, as she goes by now—but I know it to be true.
She’s the only one in this damned city capable of foiling my plans, and she seems intent on doing just that.
My chest aches at the thought of standing on the other side of a war from her, but I’ve come too far to be swayed by softer emotions.
She barely wasted any time after my alleged death, becoming Hermes the moment the old one passed.
For nearly ten years, she’s held that title and done nothing with it but party and fuck and play the jester to the same court that enabled the last Zeus to snatch me off the street, force me into a wedding, and then attempt to drown me on our honeymoon.
Once upon a time, she saw things my way. She will again.
In the meantime, I have work to do.
We pull to a stop in front of the university. It was deserted along with the rest of the city, and even with the return of the population, classes won’t begin again anytime soon. It’s about to become my center of operations.
Antigone pulls the SUV to a stop and hops out, coming around the front in great strides to get my door. I turn to Demeter, studying her beautiful face and lingering on her hazel eyes. “Are we going to have a problem?”
She’s good. She doesn’t give any indication that she’s bothered by the clear threat beneath my words. “Of course not.” She meets my gaze directly. “I originally chose your side because it’s the winning one, and nothing has changed on that note. However, you’d do well to remember my conditions.”
That her daughters remain safe.
“They’ll see no harm from me.” I don’t blink, don’t look away, don’t give her any indication that I might be speaking something other than the truth.
Demeter is formidable, but I’ve learned to lie with the best. If she were a better mother, she would have anticipated the inevitable conclusion of this coup.
Eurydice and Psyche are safe enough from my plans; they both chose well in their partners.
Persephone and Callisto-turned-Hera? They’re married to Hades and Zeus, respectively, two of the three legacy titles among the Thirteen.
And they’re both fucking pregnant, which means those titles live on, even after I eliminate the fathers.
Unlike those who have harmed me, I know better than to leave an enemy at my back.
I slip from the vehicle and stand tall in Olympus once again.
The university district is the only part of the city proper I’ve ever been able to stomach.
It actually has character with its carefully nostalgic academic style, a world away from the steel and glass and concrete of the city center.
When people are here, they can almost believe they’re not part of the grind that chews people up and spits them out. A lie, of course, but a palatable one.
Antigone meets my gaze. She’s been with me from the beginning of this journey, my golden savior who pulled me from the waves and nursed me back to health all those years ago. She’s half a head taller than me with light-brown skin and a mass of golden curls that bounce around her wide shoulders.
“Is everything prepared?” I ask. Nerissa came ahead to ensure everything was as it should be, but the best plan has multiple contingencies. If things went wrong, we should have heard by now. Even so, it’s foolish to make assumptions.
“The auditorium is ready for us. The others will do crowd control as planned to allow the approved number of civilians inside to witness. The rest will be guided to the courtyards where screens have been set up to live stream.” Even as she speaks, more cars park and double-park and shimmy into every available space around us.
A convoy was the best option for our trip from the countryside into the city proper, and it certainly sent a message about where the average citizen stands—with me—but managing that crowd in one space instead of strung out over miles is going to be a full-time job.
Demeter emerges from the car, taking in the scene with a single glance. “It would have been preferable to give us the opportunity to create some order with the crowd. This is chaotic at best.”
More likely, she wants time to plot the best way forward for herself.
My cunning ally is beginning to have doubts.
It’s a pity; her support is useful, and the people of Olympus idolize her.
Hers being the only title that’s actually voted on, they feel an ownership of Demeter in a way they don’t with the other titles.
She needed to be handled carefully even before things went a bit off the rails with her daughter Callisto, now Hera.
I thought we might foster a kinship—one Hera to another—but the little fool went and fell in love with her husband.
“The chaos will serve our purpose,” I say mildly without slowing my pace.
There is honking and the sound of many cars behind us, but I ignore them.
My people will create order where it’s needed and turn the chaos in a useful direction.
There have to be lines, after all. It wouldn’t do to allow people to ruin one of Olympus’s oldest and most revered locations, even if most of the population never sets foot on the campus.
College might be free in the city, but only public college.
The university is reserved for those who can afford its hefty tuition.
Inside the auditorium, Nerissa and her team wait for us.
She’s been with me nearly as long as Antigone.
After I recovered from my near drowning and searched for a path forward, Aeaea was the clear choice.
The island had suffered in the last few generations because they shunned tourists and their natural industries—fish and citrus fruits—had taken a hit due to shifting climate.
The people there were primed for just the right spark to create a flame pointed directly where I wanted them.
That’s where I found Nerissa, who became indispensable to my plans. She knew exactly what levers to exploit to manipulate the rich and powerful who had long lusted after Olympus.
“Nerissa. You look well.” She’s small and slight with light-brown skin and straight medium-brown hair that reaches just past her shoulders. She’s mousy in a calculated way, able to manipulate her looks so the eye passes right over her.
She smiles when she sees us, her relief evident. “There was no trouble on the road?”
“The rats are scrambling from their sinking ship.” I shrug. “Is everything prepared?” Antigone said it was, but I like hearing things firsthand whenever possible.
“Yes. It will take a little bit of time to get everyone settled, but I’ve readied a room where you can rest and wait.” She motions to a door tucked back near the bottom of the stairs off the left side of the stage.
“Perfect.”
Demeter shifts at my side. “Are you ready to let me know what you’re planning? This seems a lot in the way of dramatics.”
I allow an edge into my tone. “Getting cold feet?”
She stills. “No, of course not.” Even as she speaks, her gaze tracks to the door where people now pour forth in a steady stream, heading for the available seats.
Psyche and Eros are among them, flanked by four of my soldiers.
I’ve been very careful not to overtly threaten Psyche, and she’s too smart to try to flee without a surety of success.
Not when Eros would die in the attempt. They’re guided right up front to the designated seats.
If I had my druthers, I wouldn’t have him present for what comes next, but he won’t leave Psyche’s side, and Psyche’s presence is insurance of Demeter’s good behavior.
She’s an atrocious mother, but all evidence points to her actually loving her daughters.
She won’t risk Psyche—not after how things fell out with Hera.
“Let me know if there are any issues.” I nod to Nerissa and head down to the door. Before I open it, I give Demeter a long look. “Remember that you knew and approved of my intentions when you sought me out. I’ve upheld my end of our bargain. I expect you to do the same.”
A faint flush turns her cheeks rosy. She really is a handsome woman, though someone would require a death wish to be fool enough to marry her with her history of dead husbands.
Demeter clears her throat. “I’m aware.” She settles even as I watch, tucking away her nerves and revealing the steel beneath.
“Just like you should be aware that if you threaten my daughters again, I will kill you myself.”
I smile, testing her. How far is she really willing to go?
“And risk your bid for power?” This woman has sacrificed much in service of her ambition—even her daughters, though I doubt she sees it that way.
She would have allowed Persephone to experience the same fate I did as the last Zeus’s spouse.
No matter how Demeter schemes, or what contingency plans she no doubt had in place, Persephone would have been just as vulnerable as I was on my honeymoon, just as helpless.
I give myself an internal shake. There’s no point in dwelling on it.
“Circe.” She meets my gaze steadily. “Don’t make me choose between power and my daughters. You won’t like what happens.”
That remains to be seen. She can threaten and posture all she likes, but when push comes to shove, I suspect her self-preservation will hold. “Come along,” I say and push open the door.
Everything is waiting for me, just as I instructed.
There’s a vanity set up with my preferred products so I can refresh my hair and makeup.
I’m not changing my clothing; it’s important the people of Olympus continue to see me as one of them rather than an idol who strives to set herself above them.
My leggings and slouchy sweater with boots will accomplish what I need them to do.
If the leggings are high-end wool and the sweater is cashmere… well.
And the most important part: There’s a white woman, bound and gagged, on the floor in the corner. She’s certainly seen better days. Her previously immaculate blond hair sticks up in wild directions, and her makeup is smeared around hateful blue eyes.
My smile gains warmth and satisfaction as I ignore Demeter’s sharp inhale and cross to my captive. I crouch just out of reach and croon, “Hello, Aphrodite. Or should I say Peitho. Did you miss me?”