Chapter 19
Hecate
By the time Demeter puts the finishing touches on the pie, we have something resembling a plan.
I don’t know if it’s a good plan, but I’m past the point of being picky.
If we succeed, the mob turns on Circe and the rest of the Thirteen.
It’s a scary prospect, but if they—we—are smart, they’ll flee the city limits and take the massive amount of resources they have access to and start a new life literally anywhere else in the world.
If they’re smart, they’ll never try to return to Olympus.
Demeter carefully places the apple pie in the oven and turns to me. “I don’t trust you.”
Where is she going with this? “You’d be a fool to.”
“With that said, you’ve been a friend to my girls more than a few times over the years, so I’m going to show you something and trust that you won’t use it against me.”
Curiosity sinks its claws into me, sharp and prickling. I’ve always loved a good mystery, and she’s being particularly mysterious right now. “Okay,” I say slowly.
“This way.” She slips off her apron and hangs it on a hook by the doorway. Then she leads the way deeper into the house.
It’s strangely quiet, the faint sound of the central air and our footsteps on the hardwood floor the only things breaking the tense silence.
We bypass a living room and a study, both decorated in a cozy, cluttered kind of way that makes my heart ache a little.
No matter what else is true about Demeter, her love for her daughters is in every inch of this place, in how lived in it still feels even though the family hasn’t used it as their primary residence in years.
There are pictures on the walls, too, a collage of the Dimitriou daughters in their various stages of growth, from chubby babies to beaming toddlers to awkward preteens.
Most of them are clearly candid pictures, too, not the perfectly poised ones that professionals tend to favor.
We take the stairs up, and she stops in front of the second door down the hallway. There’s the barest hesitation as she palms the doorknob, but once Demeter makes a decision, she’s not one to falter. This instance is just as true; she pushes open the door and steps back to allow me to precede her.
It feels a bit like a trap, but if she wanted me dead, there has been plenty of opportunity to attempt it during the last hour.
I’m still so tense I’m practically vibrating as I step into the dim bedroom.
At least until I see the figure laid out on the bed.
A very familiar figure with a head of blond curls and a devastatingly beautiful face.
A person who is most certainly dead. Why the fuck is Eros’s body here? “What the—”
His chest rises and falls.
My knees go out and I sink to the floor. “Eros,” I whisper. The loss of him, barely held at bay through the last day, comes rushing back with a strength that leaves me breathless. “How?”
The bathroom door opens and Psyche steps out, her hair still damp from her apparent shower. She stops short when she sees me and her mother standing behind me. “What’s going on?”
“A change of plans,” Demeter says easily. “Hermes paid us an unexpected visit, and it seems we see eye to eye. Revealing Eros ensures that will continue to be the case. You know how she feels about your husband.”
Eros. Who is alive. Not dead. Alive and breathing and opening his blue, blue eyes to blink at me. “Hermes?”
“How?” I repeat. I don’t know who I’m asking, only that I need to know this isn’t a dream. I’m awake. I know I’m awake. But… “I saw you die.”
“On the contrary.” Demeter sweeps into the room and sinks onto one of two chairs positioned on the other side of the bed. “You saw him shot. You saw him fall. You saw me yell that he was dead.”
I blink at her. Usually, I’m the one who thinks fast on my feet, but it feels like I’m up to my neck in mud that thickens around me with every step.
I know Eros was dead…don’t I? I shake my head sharply, jostling my thoughts free.
“That was quick thinking on your part. Circe didn’t even question you. ” I didn’t question her, either.
“She was distracted by your presence,” Demeter says diplomatically. “My claim about his death might have been the truth if we didn’t get him medical care in time, but fortunately, our family doctor was close and available.”
Psyche takes the other empty seat, the one closest to the head of the bed, and laces her fingers through Eros’s. “If Circe finds out he’s alive, she’ll have him killed just to avoid looking like my mother is undermining her.”
That was a concern an hour ago. With our current plans, Eros being alive will be the least of Circe’s problems in a day or two. I climb unsteadily to my feet and cross to stand next to the bed. “You look like shit.”
Eros’s normally warm, pale skin is bleached of color until he looks almost like a corpse. His chest is a mass of bandages, and there’s an IV hooked up to his free wrist and oxygen tucked under his straight nose. He gives a faint smile. “You should grab a mirror. When’s the last time you slept?”
“Hey.” I lift a finger but stop short of poking him. I don’t want to cause him any pain, even accidentally. He’s been through enough. “You know better than to comment on a woman’s appearance.”
“Guilty.” His smile fades away. “If you need help—”
Psyche tenses and parts her lips, but I speak before she can get a word out. “You can help by staying right where you are and continuing to breathe. No more heroics for you, mister.” My voice has gone all wrong, thick and watery. “Save that for the professionals.”
“Hermes, I am a professional.” He slides a glance at his wife. “Or at least I used to be.”
“Let’s keep it in the past tense.” My throat feels like someone has wrapped their hand around it and is squeezing tighter with each breath. “I’m really glad you’re alive, Eros. The world would be a dimmer place without you in it.”
Psyche bows her head, but not enough to hide the tears in her pretty hazel eyes. Neither one of them will be moving on from this violence anytime soon. It’s the kind of thing that leaves scars, and I’m not talking about the ones he’ll carry on his chest for the rest of his—hopefully long—life.
Eros looks again to his wife and then back to me. “I’m glad I’m alive, too.”
I have to get moving, to start putting things into place before… But all I want to do is stand here and drink in the sight of him. Eros is alive.
Demeter stands and smooths down her dress. “The doctor will be here in an hour to change the bandages. If you need anything before then—”
“I’ve got it, Mom.” Psyche manages a smile, though it wavers around the edges. “But thanks.”
“We’ll be down the hall.” She takes my arm and guides me out of the room. Then she keeps guiding me, tugging me along to a door on the other end of the hallway. “Here.”
“If you’re going to kill me, you could have saved us both a lot of time and done it in the yard.” It’s a pathetic attempt at a joke, but it’s all I have right now.
She gives me a disgusted look. “If I were going to kill you, I wouldn’t leave a speck of evidence in the process. I certainly wouldn’t do it in my family’s home.”
“The infamous pigs,” I murmur.
“Just so.” She opens the door. “Eros was right. You look tired, and tired people make silly mistakes. That’s one thing we can’t afford.
Nothing will happen for the next few hours.
Circe is still combing the upper city for anyone too foolish to flee, but she already caught Artemis. The trial is in the morning.”
I can’t help looking at the door, of thinking about the couple just down the hallway. “You need to get them out. The countryside isn’t far enough away to protect either of them if she finds out he’s alive.”
“How would she find out, Hermes?” A not-so-subtle threat in the question.
I shake my head. “Not from me. You know that or you wouldn’t have revealed that he’s alive.
” I want to pace, but I don’t dare show even that much agitation.
“Everyone is focused on the city proper. Arrange for them to leave Olympus after you return to Circe’s side.
She’ll have no reason to keep more than a few people on the house.
They should be easy for your security to deal with. ”
For a long moment, I think she’ll steamroll right over my suggestion, but she finally nods. “You’re right. It will be safer for them outside of Olympus. I’ll see it done.”
The strength threatens to go out of me. I thought she’d offer up more of a fight. It’s good to know we’re on the same page about the threat against Psyche and Eros—and our desire to ensure they stay among the living. “Good.”
She starts to turn for the door. “Sleep, Hermes. I’ll get word before she conducts the next farce of a trial. I’ll wake you then.”
It’s as if her words summoned the exhaustion I’ve been very intentionally not thinking about. I exhale slowly, the sudden urge to weep nearly taking over. Nearly. “You knew she’d conduct these farces of trials when you allied yourself with her.”
“Yes,” she says simply. I respect her for not protesting her innocence. “I would let all of the legacy families and most of the Thirteen burn to ensure my daughters stay safe—and come out on top at the end.”
“That last bit is doing a lot of heavy lifting.”
She shakes her head. “I’ve never pretended to be anything other than what I am—at least not to you and those in power. If you chose to ignore it or underestimate it, that’s your mistake.”
I’d like to protest, but who am I to judge? I’ve done unforgivable things to get to this point, and I’ll likely be required to do more before the end. The weight of knowing that bows my shoulders and has me weaving on my feet. “Noted.”
“This is a guest bedroom. The sheets are clean and there are fresh towels in the bathroom. I highly recommend you shower before sleeping. It will be more effective.” She turns away. “Toss your clothes into the basket and set it outside your room. I’ll wash them while you rest.”
She exits the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
There’s nothing to do in response but snoop around.
It’s a nice room, the furniture oak, with a heaviness that feels lived in despite it being a guest room.
The comforter is a tasteful flower pattern that matches the gray rug at the foot of the bed and the dusky rose curtains currently pulled over blackout blinds.
I poke my head into the bathroom to find it decorated in the same gray and dusky rose.
There are a number of high-end products in the shower and even more under the sink.
I wasn’t aware that Demeter hosted in her country residence often, so she’s either deeply invested in her role as prime hostess, or she’s been doing something out here in the countryside with no one to witness.
A month ago, that would have interested me greatly. Now, I can’t bring myself to care. I walk back into the bedroom and poke through the closet, finding a handful of clothing options in multiple sizes. Thoughtful. Very fucking thoughtful.
I strip and toss my clothes in the wicker basket she indicated, set it in the hallway, and then indulge in the longest, hottest shower I’ve had in a really long time. It’s almost enough to warm me right down to my bones. Almost.
When I come back into the bedroom, I find a silk bonnet sitting on the foot of the bed, its pattern identical to the comforter’s. I narrow my eyes. “For fuck’s sake, now she’s just showing off.”
It’s only when I climb into the bed—the mattress is, of course, like I imagine sleeping on the clouds would be—that the events of the last two days roll over me: Eros, dead and then alive. Circe. Just…Circe. Atalanta hurt, turning away from me.
I plug my phone into the charger on the nightstand and, after precisely half a second thinking about it, call Atalanta. I don’t care if she hates me; I need to know she’s okay.
To my surprise, she actually answers. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” This is awkward. I hate how awkward it is. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I made it back across the river, and Athena had her doctor look at me.” She hesitates. “I wasn’t perfectly honest with you before.”
I blink. I’d been about to apologize for my mishandling of this entire situation, but… “About what?”
“When I came to the upper city to save you. It wasn’t exactly at Athena’s command.”
“You went rogue?” My heart kicks up a notch. It’s a silly heart. She shouldn’t have risked herself for me. She wouldn’t have been stabbed if she hadn’t.
“Not exactly.” She sighs. “Hera knows that I’m working with you.
She made no secret of it when I initially came to the lower city.
They let me go because Hades and Zeus weren’t interested in keeping captives, not when I’m a liability because of my training and knowledge.
I’m honestly surprised they let me back into the lower city. ”
“You’re made.” Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I should have thought about this after she drove me out into the country to intercept Hera a few days back, but I’ve been distracted.
If I’d thought about it, I might have assumed Hera would keep her mouth shut since I saved her godsdamned ass.
But Atalanta was made, and she went back.
“What the fuck were you thinking, going back there?”
Atalanta is quiet for so long, I find myself holding my breath waiting for her answer.
Finally, she says, “I wasn’t thinking. I just had to get away, and my training kicked in.
Hades and the others needed to know what Circe is planning, even if that meant they tossed me in a cell or dungeon or some shit in the process. ”
She’s right, but I can’t help focusing on the first part of that sentence. She wasn’t thinking clearly because she was so hurt by my sleeping with Circe. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. I know I said it, and it doesn’t change anything, but I’m sorry.”
“You’re right: It doesn’t change anything.” She hesitates. “But I think I understand why you did it. Her magnetism is…something else.”
The way she says it… I sit up in bed. “Did something happen?”
“No.” Atalanta laughs, but not like anything is funny. “At least not yet.”