Chapter 12 Hera
Hera
“You!” I lunge across the seat, only to be brought up short when Atalanta grabs a fistful of the back of my jacket. Before I can shrug out of it, she hooks an arm around my waist and yanks me against her stronger body. Pinning me.
“That’s about enough of that.” She gives me a little shake. “We’re here to talk, not fight, so calm down.”
It takes a beat for her words to register past the roaring in my ears. We. Not I. Sure as fuck not her. “So you’re a traitor, too.”
“Tomato-tomahto.”
Hermes shakes her head slowly, her expression uncharacteristically serious. “This game is bigger than traitors and treachery. Put your big girl pants on and have a conversation. This is your only chance.”
I almost tell her where to shove her conversation. I don’t give a fuck what Hermes is playing at, not when the stakes are so damned high. This all started because of Circe, yes, but Hermes has been at the heart of the mess, too.
She’s the one who invited Minos to the city. She’s the one who gave him her fucking house for his little murder party. And she’s the one who I’m nearly certain brought down the barrier, once and for all.
But she’s still on the playing field, so I can’t afford to ignore her. I elbow Atalanta. “Let me go. I’ll behave.”
“You’d better.” She releases me, but only after giving me a shove into the back seat of the car and slamming the door behind me.
Within seconds, she’s around the front and in the driver seat.
Even as I tell myself not to react or give them any reason to suspect I’m afraid, I can’t stop myself from trying the door handle. Locked.
“Come now, Hera. My company is hardly unfortunate enough that you have to throw yourself from a moving vehicle.” The worst part is that Hermes sounds much the same way she always has, bright and irreverent.
She’s changed up her hair from her usual natural curls, styling it in box braids that reach the middle of her back.
I feel like I’ve been run through the wringer, but her dark-brown skin glistens with vitality.
She looks fucking good, and it pisses me off.
“You have me where you want me.” I slump back against the seat and cross my arms over my chest. It’s petulant but I’m so fucking tired.
This has been the longest day, and if there’s one person who never plays by the rules, it’s Hermes.
She never seemed to do anything useful with that rebellion, but that just proves she’s better at the game than most. She’s been playing us all along.
“Hats off to you, I guess. No point in indulging in this game of pretend anymore.”
Hermes shrugs, her smile dimming. “It wasn’t all pretend. I’ve held this title for damn near a decade, and not even I’m that good.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you after the way you’ve acted for the last year or so.”
She bursts out a bright, bitter laugh. “You know that saying about glass houses and stones? You should try looking in a mirror. Everyone in this city is a liar. I’m hardly the worst of them.”
“That’s up for debate.”
True to form, she doesn’t make me wait long for a reaction. She rolls her eyes and flicks her braids over her shoulder. “Everyone is so damned serious these days. It’s a real bummer.”
“Hermes.” Atalanta meets her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Stop fucking around.”
“Yes, yes.” She waves it away and focuses entirely on me. “You have to talk to your husband.”
Of all the things I expected her to say, those words didn’t even make the list. It surprises me so much that I burst out laughing.
“I thought you were the one with all the information. Obviously not. Otherwise you would know that I can’t tell my husband shit.
If you want to deliver a message he’ll actually listen to, you should have gone to Ares or Eris. ”
“You’re deeply underestimating your effect on him.
I’m not going to be lewd and point out that in all my years of knowing him, he’s never once stepped out of line enough to allow a video of his…
extracurricular activities…to make the rounds on MuseWatch.
Not a video, not a photo, not an audio recording.
Nothing. He forgot himself with you, which means there’s still hope. ”
I blink. I don’t know which part of her words to process first. I’ve never followed MuseWatch as closely as my sisters did; the prattling on about the illicit lives of the Thirteen and the legacy families bored me to death. They’re human. They fight, they fuck, and then they die.
Maybe I should have been paying closer attention.
No, that’s not something to get sidetracked by. If my husband got carried away enough to get distracted—I pointedly ignore the little flicker of warmth as I contemplate that—it just means I’m not safe with him. That’s nothing new; I’ve never been safe with him. “Get to the point.”
Hermes’s expression morphs back into something uncharacteristically serious. “I tried to talk to him, but his father’s shit is too heavy. He’s indoctrinated.”
I raise my brows. “‘Indoctrinated’ is a strong word.”
“Would you prefer ‘traumatized’? PTSD? It all fits.” She shakes her head.
“Regardless, you’ve never believed the hype around the Thirteen.
Surely you can recognize the system doesn’t work.
It never worked—not for the people who needed it the most. You should know that better than anyone, Hera.
” The emphasis she puts on my title prickles my skin.
I want to argue, but I would just be doing it for the sake of arguing. “Say I agree with you, which I don’t know if I do… What do you expect me to do?”
“It’s time for a new order of things. A different structure of government. The Thirteen can no longer rule Olympus.”
This time, when I lunge at her, Atalanta’s not close enough to stop me. It’s not until I have my switchblade to Hermes’s throat that I realize she let me get close…and that she has her own knife pressed to my stomach. She’s still and relaxed as she smiles. “Fast, but not quite fast enough.”
I am so damned tired of everyone in the room thinking they are the smartest motherfucker to exist. I glare down at her. “You’re working with Circe.”
“I’m not.”
Lies, lies, and more lies. My hand’s shaking so hard I have to choose between moving back or cutting her. I move back. Barely. “You want the same thing she wants. You’re working to bring down the Thirteen, just like she is. Stop fucking lying to me.”
“I’m not lying.” She speaks slowly and calmly, inching her knife away from my stomach. “Wanting the Thirteen to no longer be in power isn’t the same as wanting to annihilate them, no matter how much some of them deserve it.”
None of this makes any sense. I shove away from her. We all know I’m not going to stab her now, and continuing to posture like this only makes me look weak. Weaker. Fuck. This whole situation is fucked. “You’re arguing semantics. I don’t have time for this.”
My family’s lives hang in the balance. Maybe Hermes doesn’t want them dead the way Circe does, but her plan will end with the same result.
“You have to know there isn’t a single member of the Thirteen who will step down unless they’re forced to.
If you’re not working with Circe and you’re not willing to kill them, then you’re going to fail.
You’ve already failed if you’re still trying to reason with Zeus. ”
In the front seat, Atalanta snorts, but it’s Hermes who answers.
“You’d be surprised what people will agree to if they’re desperate enough.
But you’re right, I have no desire to murder my way through the Thirteen and the legacy families in order to raze this power structure.
It would take a lot of time and effort, and you never really get blood out from beneath your cuticles.
” She makes a show of examining her nails, painted a bright neon yellow.
“Which is where you come in. If you can convince Zeus to step down and ensure that none of his siblings move up to take his place, that will send a message the others will heed. This city is full of sheep who think they’re wolves.
They just need one to take the plunge first, and it has to be a legacy title. ”
The laugh that bursts from my lips contains an edge of hysteria.
No matter how different Hermes claims she is, she and Circe are obviously moving along the same wavelength.
“From the moment he gained sentience, my husband was trained by an abusive monster to take the title Zeus. He won’t hand it over until he’s dead.
There’s nothing that I—or anyone else—can say to change that truth. ”
“Then he’ll die.” Hermes doesn’t say it like it brings her joy, more like it’s an unfortunate side effect of a problem outside of her control.
“You’ve seen how the Thirteen abuse their power, even if you’ve been relatively protected by virtue of your mother’s power.
How many times have you looked around at the legacy families and felt nothing but loathing?
For all that you’re part of them, you’re separate enough to see how toxic their excess is.
Your mother is aware of it. She might be one of the most excessive of them all, but at least she cares about the greater population.
The same cannot be said for the rest of them. ”
“You are part of the Thirteen. Don’t act like you’re better. You’ve been enjoying those excesses for a very long time, Hermes.”
“I have my reasons. I always have. We can argue about that, or you can acknowledge that you’re against the wall and you don’t have a choice.
Because you’re one of the Thirteen too, Hera.
” She flicks her wrist, pointing her knife at my stomach again.
“And you don’t get to extract yourself with divorce or your husband’s death, either. Not when you carry the next Zeus.”
It takes everything I have not to press my hand to my stomach, as if that would protect my little parasite from danger. I lift my chin. “Conjecture. I’ll talk to Zeus for my own reasons, but I’m telling you now, it won’t work.”
“We’ll see.” She nods at Atalanta. “This is far enough.”
As the car rolls to a stop, my frustration blooms hot and sticky on my tongue. I want to scream, but if I start screaming now, I can’t guarantee I’ll stop. “Ares considers you a friend, or at least she did. Dionysus, too. Even Hades. I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
Hermes doesn’t look at me. “Sometimes friends have to hurt in order to help. They might have been my friends once I became Hermes, but there’s a whole life I lived before I claimed the title.
A whole identity. The Thirteen took something—someone—from me, and I vowed I would live to see their downfall.
You know how to play the long game, so I’m sure you’ll appreciate the patience I’ve demonstrated. ”
None of this makes any sense. If she was going to orchestrate the downfall of the Thirteen, why wait until now to do it? She could have started at any point during the last… Realization dawns. “Every time someone said, ‘Hermes has her reasons,’ they had no idea, did they?”
“A lady never tells.” The words are right, accurate to the Hermes I thought I had come to know. The tone, however, belongs to a stranger. Hard and tight and filled with the kind of rage that has no end. A rage she’s been hiding since she became Hermes. Maybe even before that.
“If you do something to threaten my baby again, I don’t give a shit how fast you are, I’ll slit your throat.” I issue the threat calmly, enunciating each word carefully.
Atalanta snorts, but Hermes smiles slowly. “I always said you Dimitriou women are interesting. Don’t stop being interesting now, Callisto.”
The car stops, and the locks disengage. I waste no time getting the fuck out of there.
My head is spinning, but for all that drama of her staging this conversation, I don’t really have much new information.
Zeus has labeled Hermes a traitor for some time now.
I don’t think anyone quite realized the depth of it—or her ultimate goal—but not that much has changed.
I stumble back to where my car waits, and Nephele opens the door for me. It’s only when I’m back inside the dim interior that I start to shiver. All three of them look at me with worried expressions, but I shake my head. “Not now.” Maybe not ever.
As much as I trust them to watch my back and protect me, can I trust them with this? There’s a reason I held back telling them what Circe plans. Their loyalty begins and ends with me as Hera. If I lose my title, I lose my trio. I can’t trust them. Not fully.
The city rises before us in all its glittering glory. It’s a little dimmer than it used to be, but no less beautiful. Strange how, despite my best efforts, it really does feel like home. I don’t want to see it razed to the ground.
Ixion finally clears his throat. “What did Athena want?”
I almost forget myself and ask him what the fuck he’s talking about, before it belatedly registers that I was supposed to be meeting with Athena, not Hermes.
The implications of that are even more complicated than everything else.
Atalanta is working with Hermes? How did those two even cross paths in a way that would orchestrate any kind of relationship?
It’s not important in this moment to know the answer to that question, but the not knowing threatens to eat away at me.
I believed I was getting a handle on all of the petty politics and backstabbing, and every time I turn around, it’s proven to me again and again that I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.
I don’t bother to smile. “The same old, same old. Threats, threats, and more threats.”