Chapter Fourteen Hades
Chapter Fourteen
Hades
Hades smiled to himself as he approached the pool, a grand turquoise teardrop on the lawn near the main house. Sunlight shimmered over its surface, yet he had no intention of actually swimming. He knew better than to get in water that might be enchanted.
He was here to watch the show.
Dozens of figures were already in the pool or lounging around it, sprawled on lemon-yellow chaises that matched the striped umbrellas.
Human staff walked about with trays of delicacies: Popsicles, glasses of cucumber water, and to Hades’s amusement, gel eye masks that they applied beneath the gods’ eyes like spa attendants.
Trees laced over the lower half of the pool, casting it in dappled shade.
As he strode past their lounge chairs, the other gods blinked at him in shock.
Hades had surprised them already, simply by showing up at Olympus; everyone knew that he rarely came to family events.
And when he did attend, he certainly didn’t join their efforts at socializing or tanning.
Yet here he was, wearing a navy swimsuit that emphasized his pale skin and dark hair.
Amused, Hades held their gazes, and the other gods all quickly looked away. No matter. He didn’t care what any of them thought.
He took an empty lounge chair and listened to the various snatches of conversation.
A few of the other gods were whispering about him, but most were discussing Ares and his mortal woman.
The two of them had fled the island this morning, abruptly and without permission.
It was delightfully shocking, especially since Ares was already the subject of much speculation.
Hades glanced around the pool, his gaze hidden by enormous Ferragamo sunglasses.
Apollo lay on a watermelon-shaped floatie with one hand flung over his eyes, a beer clutched in his other hand.
Two naiads—or were they dryads? Hades never could tell them apart—splashed around in the shallow end.
Aphrodite drifted near the steps with Eros, who was treading water with the competency of a human adult, snatching at little whirlpools with his chubby toddler fingers.
When Eros laughed in delight, water droplets would spray up out of the pool to rain upon his head.
Typical Poseidon, Hades thought, showing off for Aphrodite.
A few minutes later he saw Hermes striding toward the pool, wearing some ridiculous terry cloth shirt and matching shorts. Hades coughed meaningfully. Hermes hesitated an instant, then jerked his head in the direction of the pool house.
Hades stood, stretching his arms overhead, and followed.
Hermes waited by a row of teak outdoor showers, tossing a fluffy white towel from hand to hand like a football. Hades noted with amusement that the buttons on his terry cloth shirt were made from real seashells.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he observed dryly.
Hermes stilled. “I thought my debts to you were cleared.”
“They are,” Hades agreed, “but if you have anything else you’d like to tell me, I’ll make it worth your while.” Hermes would probably share all his news with Hera first, but still, it was worth a try.
“All I know is that Ares and Julia left sometime in the early hours of the morning,” Hermes said evasively.
“Julia ran off, and Ares chased her,” Hades inferred. Why else would they have left so abruptly? When Hermes nodded, Hades took another guess. “What made her leave? Aphrodite?”
“Maybe.”
Interesting. Hades hadn’t ever paid much notice to Aphrodite, but her impetuousness might have worked in his favor. In chasing after Julia, Ares had shown his hand. He really cared about this mortal.
Such behavior was unprecedented for Ares, and the other gods never did well in unprecedented situations. They liked stability, predictability, all of them set in their roles.
Except Hades. He spent enough time around mortals not to be fazed by erratic behavior.
If anything, he loved chaos for the opportunities it created. And this mortal woman was already causing more disruption than Hades could have hoped for.
He looked back at Hermes. “What do you think of Julia?”
Hermes seemed startled by the question. Perhaps no one ever asked for his opinion, just pressed him for gossip and secondhand news. The realization made Hades feel almost sorry for him.
“I saw you chatting with her last night,” Hades went on in a gentler tone. “What’s your read on her?”
Hermes paused. “Julia strikes me as smart and thoughtful. I feel a little bad, honestly, that she got dragged into all this mess because she ran into Ares at a bar. She’s been shell-shocked enough, learning that he’s from a wealthy background.
If she finds out the real truth…well, she’s setting herself up for more pain. ”
“Hermes. Who knew you had a heart?” Hades quipped, though he was surprised by the earnest reply.
Hermes flushed but held Hades’s gaze. “I just don’t think she deserves what’s coming.”
“Maybe Julia can hold her own.”
“Maybe,” Hermes said dubiously. “There does seem to be more to her than meets the eye.”
Indeed, Hades thought. Julia was a far greater complication than any of the Olympians would have guessed.
A commotion sounded near the pool, voices raised in sudden excitement. Hades sauntered over, lifting his sunglasses to better watch the scene unfolding before him.
Julia and Ares were back. They stood by the pool, Ares’s arm wrapped protectively around Julia’s waist.
Hades glanced to Hera, whose smile was too broad to be convincing; then to Aphrodite, who was climbing out of the pool with deliberate slowness, exposing her body one perfect inch at a time, as if directly challenging Julia. Then he looked at Zeus.
The king of the gods was clearly oblivious to the danger Julia posed. He congratulated her and Ares, shouted at the staff to bring out champagne.
Well done, Julia, Hades thought smugly. Less than a week on Olympus and already the mortal woman had pissed off Aphrodite, unnerved Hera, and sent Ares running after her.
She was driving a small but powerful wedge among the Olympians.
And the more the Olympians fought among themselves, the weaker Zeus’s position became—which meant Hades might have a chance, at last, of unseating him.
Hades pulled his sunglasses back down over his face and headed toward the bar. It was still morning, but he was ready for something celebratory. Maybe a frozen rum drink.
After all, the fun was just getting started.