Chapter 4 Hermes
Hermes
As expected, I find Poseidon at the docks.
He’s barely left the place since he returned from escorting the Aeaean soldiers to the ship that will carry them—and his lover, Icarus—back to their island.
There are no shipments coming in and out despite the blockade being gone, but Poseidon always looks after his people first, and he’s set up a mutual-aid network to ensure folks are fed while the work is suspended.
He’s in his office with his second-in-command, Orion, and his niece—and heir—Pallas. All three look up when I walk in the room, even pausing to knock on the doorframe because I can be polite when the situation calls for it.
Poseidon pushes slowly to his feet. It takes quite a long time.
He’s a tall white man with moon-pale skin dotted with constellations of freckles and a shock of red hair and beard.
He’s also got that sexy strong-fat body thing going on, if one is into folks of the masculine persuasion.
I can be for the right person, but Poseidon has certainly never been that.
“It was a mistake for you to come here.” He rumbles out the statement, a flush of anger spreading over his face. “Orion, take her.”
“That’s not a good idea.” I step sideways, easily dodging Orion’s grasp.
They’re fast, but they’re no soldier. They also look tired as shit, their light-brown skin waxy with exhaustion.
“I’m not here to fight, and it would be a shame if I had to hurt one of your people because you’re too stubborn to listen to me. ”
Orion grits their teeth and tries to grab me again. “Come quietly.”
“Not a single time in my life.” I waggle my eyebrows, but it feels half-hearted.
Flirting outrageously is only fun when your ex isn’t storming the city and threatening all of your friends.
Many of them might not consider me a friend any longer, but even if they hate me in the end, they don’t deserve to be hurt.
Poseidon taps his fingers against his big thigh, a sure sign he’s getting agitated. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You’re right. You don’t.” I duck under Orion’s reach and step behind where Pallas stands. She’s a beautiful woman who, thankfully, takes after her mother with her delicate features and long, straight black hair rather than her late father, Triton. “Circe is back in the city.”
“So everyone has been saying.” He starts around the desk. “Stay away from Pallas.”
“Poseidon, listen to me.” I drop the playful act and straighten. “Have you spoken with Zeus in the last day or two?”
“Briefly.” He hesitates, seeming to finally be willing to listen. At least a little. He narrows his eyes. “He said a lot of things—including the fact that you want to demolish the Thirteen and set up a new government in its place.”
I curse myself for showing my hand too early, but gods, it’s like herding cats trying to get the Thirteen to do anything, including save themselves.
I knew Zeus wouldn’t listen when I attempted to talk sense into him before, but I had to try.
Of course he would start listening now, when it’s almost too late.
“The Thirteen are going to fall, Poseidon. It’s inevitable at this point.
Circe has the people behind her, and if you’ve done your best to be a good leader, the majority of them—of us—haven’t.
The people are angry. It’s a small miracle she hasn’t come for you yet.
” I motion to Pallas. “You and your young cousins.”
Poseidon might hate most of the realities that come with being one of the Thirteen, but he’s no fool. He makes the connection instantly. “You mean anyone who could become Poseidon.”
“She won’t allow the legacy titles to continue.”
He curses. “Our family line includes dozens of people beyond Triton’s daughters. Surely she won’t…” He shakes his head sharply. “What am I saying? Of course she will. She has to. Any other option leaves open a door that she clearly wants shut.”
“You don’t have much time,” I say softly. “The only chance you and yours have is to seek sanctuary in the lower city. Or better yet, leave Olympus entirely. Today. Now.”
“And then what? We couldn’t manage to unify to defend the city from Circe’s blockade, which was a clear and present danger.
Even if I go to the lower city, it will be more spiraling arguments that go nowhere.
They won’t dissolve the Thirteen.” He meets my gaze.
“If everything you’ve said is true, there’s no safety for anyone in my family, even if we leave the city.
Circe won’t allow us to settle peacefully somewhere else.
Will you? Even if I believe you don’t want anyone—else—dead, how long does that thread of nobility last, Hermes? ”
That’s a question I’ve asked myself in the dark of the night. My hands aren’t free of blood, and I’m too jaded to believe the ends justify the means. It’s a lie people use to comfort themselves, as if that’s enough to keep the nightmares at bay. I know better.
Even so, that doesn’t mean I’m a fan of wholesale slaughter as long as there’s another option.
The problem is that we’re running out of options.
I square my shoulders. “If you don’t get your people behind the barrier in the lower city or out of Olympus entirely, you won’t be alive to find out the answer to that question. ”
He nods slowly. “I’ll think about it.”
“Think fast.” I eye Orion and start to slide past them to the door.
“You’re running out of time.” I can’t force him to listen to me, but I’d actually be sad if Poseidon died.
He and Apollo are both too damned honorable for this city.
If they survive the conflict brewing in the university district, I hope they actually get the fuck out of this city, once and for all.
I barely make it out of the shipyard before my phone buzzes against my hip. It’s not a text this time. When I realized Circe would set up her base in the university, I created a series of triggers to notify me when she streamed to the large screens being set up around the quad.
She’s streaming now.
My foolish heart lodges in my throat, bloody and beating hard enough to choke on.
She looks good, if tired. It’s calculated, I’m sure, to appear more approachable.
One of them. She is one of them, or at least was a very long time ago.
I was, too. Her short blond hair is perfectly styled and her makeup is sparse, having made no attempt to cover up the circles beneath her green eyes.
She’s wearing normal enough clothing, too, in an attempt to be one of the people.
Circe motions with a graceful hand. “We move into the future of Olympus today by meting out justice to the first of the monsters who harmed me and so many others. When Zeus saw me, took me, this woman was the one who planned our wedding, ignoring my protests that it wasn’t something I wanted.
” Her voice is cool and practiced, but a thread of tension vibrates beneath the words.
She’s telling the truth, and her words are all the more powerful for it.
“I begged her to free me. Instead, she reported to Zeus every word I said. Knowing I refused to play along only stoked his rage, which resulted in the attempt on my life.”
I shake my head slowly. There’s only one person she could be talking about, but that’s impossible.
The last Aphrodite was exiled nearly a year ago after she attempted to kill Psyche Dimitriou; Psyche had been clever enough to video the entire thing.
The public outcry forced the new Zeus’s hand, and he chose exile over a more violent punishment.
On my screen, Circe continues. “But I’m not the only one she harmed.” Her gaze cuts to something below her. “How many people did she send her son after, cutting them down before they had a chance to threaten her? One of them sits in this auditorium right now.”
The camera cuts to a pale Psyche, her hazel eyes too wide.
Next to her, Eros is coiled and seems ready to spring into action.
He’s the son in question, the one the past Aphrodite sent after people she viewed as her competition.
The former Aphrodite might be more of a monster than most, but she’s still his mother.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
I don’t hold any fondness for the last Aphrodite.
Both for the reasons Circe has stated and because she was a constant pain in the ass in general.
The only reason she was exiled instead of executed for her crimes was because Zeus was too new to his title and her alliances were too strong. He didn’t dare do more than banish her.
So, no, I don’t care about Peitho, the former Aphrodite, for the sake of who she is.
I care about her because she’s Eros’s mother.
He’s my friend, and I don’t want to see him hurt.
If Circe tries to kill his mother in front of him, he won’t stand there and let it happen.
And if he tries to stop Circe, she’ll kill him, too.
“This was supposed to be as near to a bloodless coup as we could manage,” I snarl.
It doesn’t matter that there’s no one around to hear me.
The only people who were supposed to be hurt were the ones who deserve it.
And, sure, Peitho does deserve it, but not like this.
Not in front of her son. Eros has killed more than a few people, but he’s turned his back on that life and embraced love and happiness with a new murderous family that doesn’t actually need him to be their fixer.
And only Demeter and Hera are murderous, really, though Persephone has a ruthless streak a mile wide.
I have to stop this. I’m not far from the university, barely a mile.
Circe says she’s only going to kill those responsible in fair trials, but this is more trial by public opinion than by a jury of Peitho’s peers.
Over the sound mixing, I can hear the jeers and cheers from the audience as Circe continues to detail the many sins of the woman kneeling at her feet.
Even if Psyche can hold Eros back, how long until those angry people in the crowd focus on the fact that the former Aphrodite never bothered to get her hands dirty?
That the instrument of her violence sits in the very room with them?
Eros is good, but he can’t fight off dozens of people.
He’ll be focused on protecting Psyche and not himself. He’ll die.
I shove my phone in my pocket and start to run.
Even with all the exhaustion in the last few weeks, I’m in the best shape of my life. When you know war is coming, you’d be a fool not to prepare yourself for the conflict in every way possible. That means with resources, yes, but also turning my body into a weapon in and of itself.
I make it to the university in five minutes flat.
Each breath burns through my lungs, but I could do another couple miles at this pace if pressed.
Circe’s melodious voice croons through speakers throughout campus, still detailing the sins of Peitho.
Gods, she’s killed so many people and harmed even more during her tenure as Aphrodite.
An ugly little voice inside me whispers that it would be so easy to simply…
be too late. No matter what I want the people of Olympus to believe, I’m not superhuman.
I’m just one tired-ass woman who’s doing her best. All of the Thirteen think I’m a traitor, and a good portion of them think I’m in league with Circe herself.
Showing up a few seconds after she kills Peitho won’t condemn me further in their eyes.
But…Eros.
Gods, it would be so much easier if I didn’t have even a shred of conscience.
I grit my teeth and cut through the crowd of people gathered.
It’s a testament to Circe’s magnetism that they don’t pay the slightest bit of attention to me, too focused on the beautiful woman displayed on every screen available.
I can’t look at her or risk being captured myself.
I don’t have many weaknesses, but Circe is a glaring one. It’s not a good idea to end up in the same room as her considering what happened the last time. I was completely defenseless in a way I haven’t been since taking the Hermes title. Worse of all, I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again.
The auditorium has half a dozen entrances to the public and another two or three for staff. Circe’s people guard each one, women dressed in deep amber with watchful expressions on their faces. I could get past them, but not without causing a scene.
For a moment, I consider it. A scene may very well distract Circe…but even as the thought crosses my mind, I discard it. There’s too much noise in the auditorium. It won’t be enough to stop her, even if I start killing my way through the crowd to get to her.
Stealth it is, then.