Chapter 24 Hera
Hera
The sun is well on its way to its peak in the sky by the time we manage to leave our penthouse apartment.
We don’t speak much, but we don’t have to.
Even though nothing is resolved and everything outside our bedroom is terrible, I can’t deny that something changed between Perseus and me.
It started before we had sex, before I was shot, before we started using each other’s real names instead of our titles.
Maybe it started even earlier than that.
I don’t know. I’m having a hard time thinking.
Guilt is a live thing inside me. Circe’s threat continues to rattle around inside my mind.
I forgot. Yes, it was only for a little while, but forgetting at all is downright unforgivable.
She’s clearly working within some kind of timeline.
She’s not going to wait for me to get my shit together, especially when it’s becoming increasingly clear that I don’t have the right words or a convincing argument to make my family step down.
I text Ixion to let him know the plan as we step into the elevator. I should have updated him hours ago to ensure he and the others could meet us here before we left. There was plenty of time to make that happen, to shatter the strange peace Perseus and I have floating between us. Except…I didn’t.
As a result, when Perseus holds open the door for me, there’s no one to remind me I’m more than capable of taking a second car so I don’t have to spend hours longer in his presence.
There’s no one to look on disapprovingly at the way his hand presses lightly to the small of my back.
There’s no audience to how I hesitate the tiniest bit to relish the connection.
I slide into the back seat and he follows me in without hesitation.
The second the door closes, his woodsy scent surrounds me, bringing to mind all the delicious things we were doing to each other just a short time ago.
I shift in my seat, my body hot and restless.
Damn it, no. I have to focus. The devil on my shoulder may be whispering that we have hours before we arrive in the countryside, but there’s work to be done.
Zeus doesn’t need the reminder. He gives my hand a squeeze and releases me to pull his phone out.
Headphones are next, and then he might as well be on another planet for all the attention he pays me.
There is relief in that. His self-control ensures I don’t have to rely on mine.
And if it irritates me, well, that’s a small enough price to pay.
My phone vibrates in my hand, a call coming in from Ixion. I sigh. This isn’t going to be pleasant. “Ixion.”
“With all due respect, Hera, it’s very challenging to protect you if you aren’t communicating your plans with us. This is the second time in twenty-four hours you’ve gone off without a guard. Do I need to remind you what happened just yesterday?”
My spine straightens instinctively. “Check your tone, Ixion. I may be deeply grateful for your loyalty, but you work for me. If I choose to take a calculated risk without your presence, that is my choice. You aren’t in charge.”
“You make that abundantly—” There’s a scuffle on the other side of the phone and then Imbros comes on the line, zir tone perfectly even and absent of any of Ixion’s irritation.
“What Ixion is trying to say,” ze starts, “is that we take our jobs very seriously and we worry about you. When we heard you had been shot, we were deeply concerned. Before you contacted me to bring you clothing, we had to get information about your status secondhand from Ares.”
My anger threatens to drain away, but I hold on to it with both hands.
I have too many people to worry about right now, I don’t need more.
I can’t have more. “You can meet me at my mother’s current residence in a few hours.
I have my husband’s full security detail with me, so I’ll be safe enough in the meantime. ”
“Understood.” There’s a strange note in zir tone, but I can’t quite divine it before we hang up. It’s just as well. I don’t have it in me to manage that trio’s emotions. Even wanting to says something I’m not prepared to examine. There’s a lot I’m not prepared to examine these days.
I glance at Perseus, but he’s deep in conversation with someone. It only takes a few sentences for me to realize it’s Poseidon. He’s filling the other legacy position in on our plans to follow up on the possibility that Circe has infiltrated the countryside by way of the mountains.
I could tell him she’s actually in the city and not the countryside, but even with my ill-fated meeting, I think his instincts are right.
If Circe had enough people to cause a true problem, she already would’ve done it instead of offering veiled threats.
Either she’s waiting for backup or something else is going on. It doesn’t hurt to be thorough.
I can’t stall any longer. As much as I’d like to call Persephone, I can’t risk Perseus hearing what I have to say. So I take a deep breath and I text my sister.
Me: I’m sorry about yesterday. But I need you to reconsider.
Bless my sister. She doesn’t make me wait long for a response.
Persephone: I said what I said, and I expect you to respect it. I understand that you’re worried about us, but we have things well under control.
Me: Except you don’t. There are enemies in the lower city right now. If you had things under control, they’d already be dead.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I send her two of the videos Circe sent me.
One of her and one of Eurydice. I don’t send the threats against Psyche and our mother.
There’s nothing Persephone can do about either, and worrying about them will distract her from what she needs to be worrying about—herself.
Persephone: What is this?
Me: Exactly what it looks like. They’re close to you. There’s no doubt Circe will continue being a threat. If you want me to stop worrying about you, then take care of it.
My phone rings but it’s not my sister calling. It’s Hades. Fuck. I glance at Perseus, but there’s no avoiding this call. “Hades.”
His deep voice comes on the line, rife with tension. “How long have you had these pictures?”
That horrible guilt worms inside me. I shift uncomfortably. “A couple days. But the threat—”
“I have participated in your mother’s power games without complaint for months.
Nothing has been accomplished except to exasperate the issues we already suffer from in Olympus.
The enemy is in our city, targeting my wife and children, and you, our supposed ally, are not relaying relevant information in a timely manner. ”
The guilt gets worse until I’m choking on it. “I had things under control.”
“Clearly, you didn’t. Do you have any actual useful information, or are you going to continue trying to terrify my pregnant wife?”
Anger flares, beating back the worst of the guilt. “She might be your wife, but she was my sister first,” I snap.
“True. But which of us has taken better care of her?” While I flounder in the face of that question, my jaw working but no sound coming out, he continues.
“I’ll deal with the threat against Persephone and Eurydice.
Have no fear of that. Instead, you should be worrying about the rest of Olympus, Hera.
” The emphasis on my title, instead of my name, stings as much as anything else he said.
Worse, I deserve it. “If you’d just step down—”
“Don’t be naive. That may work with your mother, but it won’t work with me.
Circe won’t allow the risk of the legacy titles rising against her in the future.
She has to kill all three of us—which means she has to kill Persephone, too.
It doesn’t matter what you do, because that truth will not change.
Stop dancing to Circe’s tune.” He hangs up before I can come up with a response.
It’s just as well. I have no response. The only assurance I have of my sister’s safety is Circe’s promise to not kill her if everyone steps down. In hindsight, Hades is right. I’m being incredibly naive. I let hope tint my vision until all I could see were the possibility of roses. Not the truth.
Fuck.
I slump back into my seat and close my eyes.
There’s a way through this, but I can’t see the path.
Circe on one side and Hermes on the other, both working toward the total destruction of Olympus as we know it.
To date, Hermes hasn’t directly threatened my family, but the threat exists all the same.
I have no doubt Hermes is capable of murder, should the situation call for it, and Circe has already proven she’s all too willing to kill her way to the top.
But it’s not just those two I have to worry about.
Even if Perseus was willing to step down, he wasn’t part of Circe’s offer.
She won’t let him walk away…which leads me to wonder if she’ll let me walk away if I insist on keeping the baby.
Without thinking, I press my hand to my stomach.
You can’t have my baby, you bitch. I’ll kill you first. Except I don’t know how.
Every time I turn around, I’m being outplayed and outgunned.
I’m just as helpless as every Hera who’s come before me. I’m fucking failing.
“Breathe, Callisto.”
I glance over as Perseus laces his fingers with mine and squeezes my hand slowly, a silent command to match my breathing to the increasing and decreasing pressure of his palm against mine. Damn him, it helps. Within a few moments, the panic recedes enough for me to think clearly. Mostly.
“What if we don’t survive this?” The question slips out despite myself.
“We will.” He tugs me until I slide across the seat and tuck myself against the side of his body.
If his holding my hand helped, the contact of his body against mine helps even more.
His breathing is steady. I close my eyes and press my head to his chest, letting the slow beat of his heart soothe me even though I don’t deserve it.
“Circe is too good. She’s always ahead of us no matter what we do. I don’t see a way through.”
Perseus wraps a tentative arm around me and strokes his free hand through my hair.
“We don’t have to see a way through as long as we keep moving.
She hasn’t struck again, which means she’s waiting for something.
We just have to figure out what it is and eliminate the threat—just like we did with the ships. ”
As if it’s so easy. As if Hermes and Circe aren’t running laps around us no matter what we do.
But I want to believe the lie, so I don’t point out that we’ve been several steps behind from the very beginning.
Instead, I sit there as my eyes get heavier and heavier, until sleep takes me despite myself.
Sometime later, Zeus presses his lips to my forehead. “Wake up. We’re almost there.”
Embarrassment heats my cheeks. I can’t believe I fell asleep on him, in the middle of the day, no less.
I keep my gaze down as I slide back over to my side of the bench seat and comb my fingers through my hair.
To distract myself, I pull out my phone to see if I’ve missed any messages.
There’s one from Persephone telling me that everything’s going to be okay, a false reassurance if I’ve ever read one.
But what stops my breath in my lungs is the text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Clock’s ticking, Hera. You’re working too slow. Seems like someone has to offer you a little incentive to pick up the pace.
I read the message again and again, but the text doesn’t change. A clear threat if I’ve ever seen one. But from who? I would assume Circe, but there’s no denying Hermes is a major player at this point as well. It could be either of them.
I look up as the car pulls through the dirt road passing through all the tents.
It appears exactly like it did yesterday, but everything seems leached of color.
Fear is a live thing inside me. I’ve never failed so spectacularly as I have in the last few days.
I can’t convince my brother-in-law to step down.
I can’t convince my sister there’s a real threat despite her being shot yesterday.
I can’t even convince the husband I’m starting to believe might actually be falling in love with me.
How the fuck am I going to convince my mother?