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Cataloging-in-PublicationDataisonfilewiththeLibraryofCongress.Contents
FrontCover
TitlePage
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Epilogue
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthor
BackCoverToJenny.It’sapleasuretoshareanIdwithyou!1
Psyche
Anothernight,anotherpartyIdesperatelydon’twanttoattend.
ItrynottoclutchmysickeninglysweetdrinkasIdriftaroundtheroom’sperimeter.AslongasIkeeponthemove,mymotherwon’tzeroinonme.Onewouldthinktheeventsofthelastfewmonthswouldbeenoughtogiveherambitionspause,butDemeterisnothingifnotdriven.She’ssuccessfullymarriedoffonedaughter—yes,she’stakingcreditforPersephonemarryingHades—andnowshe’sturnedhersightsonme.
Iwouldrathergnawoffmyownlegthanmarryanyonehere.EverysingleoneofthemiscloselyconnectedtoamemberoftheThirteenwhoruleOlympus:Zeus,Poseidon,Demeter,Athena,Ares,Hephaestus,Dionysus,Hermes,Artemis,Apollo,andAphrodite.TheonlytwomissingareHadesandHera—HadesbecausehepossessesalegacytitleandnotevenZeuscancommandhispresenceattheseevents,andHerabecauseourcurrentZeusisunmarried,whichleavesHera’stitleempty.
Itwon’tstayemptyforlong.
Forsurealargeroom,it’sremarkablyclaustrophobic.NoteventhegiantwindowsoverlookingOlympuscancombattheheatfromsomanybodies.I’mtemptedtostepoutsideandfreezeforabitjusttogetsomefreshair,butthenI’llbetrappedifsomeonedecidestomakesmalltalk.Atleastinthemainparty,Icankeeponthemove.
Tonightisn’tofficiallyamarriagemart,butyoucan’ttellthatfromthewayAphroditeparadespersonafterpersoninfrontofournewZeuswhereheloungesinthethronethatusedtobehisfather’s.It’slargeandgoldandgaudy.Itmighthavesuitedthefather,butitdoesn’tsuitthesonintheleast.I’mnotonetojudge,buthelacksthecommandingcharismathatthelastZeuspossessed.Ifhe’snotcareful,thepiranhasofOlympuswilleathimalive.
“Zeus,”Aphroditetrills.She’sbeenmovingbackandforthtothethroneenoughtimesformetogetagoodlookatthebright-reddressthathugshertrimfigureandcontrastswithherpaleskinandblondhair.Thistime,she’stowingayoungwhiteguywithdarkhairbehindher.Idon’trecognizehimonsight,whichmeanshe’safriendoradistantcousinorhasthedubiousfavorofbeingoneofAphrodite’spetprojects.ShebeamsatZeusasshecutsthroughthecrowd.“YousimplymustmeetGanymede.”
“Psyche.”
Inearlyjumpwhenmymotherappearsbehindme.Ittakesallmycontroltopasteapassivesmileonmyface.“Hello,Mother.”
“You’reavoidingme.”
“Ofcoursenot.”Imostdefinitelyam.“Iwenttogetadrink.”Iholdupmyglasstoproveit.
Mothernarrowshereyes.UnlikeAphrodite,whoseemsdeterminedtoclingtoeverylastdropofyouthshecanmanage,mymotherhasallowedherselftoagegracefully.Shelookslikeexactlywhatsheis—awhitewomaninherfiftieswithdarkhairandimpeccablestyle.Sheclothesherselfinpowerthewaysomepeopleclothethemselvesinjewels.WhenpeoplelookatDemeter,theyareinstantlyateasebecausesheexudesanaurathatpromisesshe’lltakecareofeverything.
It’showshewonthetitleinthefirstplace.
Whenitcametimetocraftmyownpublicpersona,IlookedtoherforinspirationevenifItookmyimageinadifferentdirection.Personalexperiencetaughtmeearlythatit’sbettertoblendinthantostandupinfrontofacrowdandmakeatargetofyourself.
“Psyche.”Mothertakesmyarm,anglingustowardZeus’sthrone.“IamgoingtointroduceyoutoZeus.”
“I’vemethimbefore.”Severaltimesinfact.WewereintroducedtenyearsagowhenMothertookoverasDemeter,andwe’vebeenattendingthesamepartieseversince.Upuntilafewmonthsago,hewasstillPerseus,heirtothetitleZeus.BestIcantell,he’snowherenearthepredatorhislatefatherwas,butthatdoesn’tmeanhe’snotapredatoratall.He’sgrownupintheglitteringviper’snestthatistheuppercity.Youdon’tsurvivethislongwithoutbeingatleastalittlebitmonster.
Mother’shandtightensonmyarmandshelowershervoice.“Well,you’regoingtomeethimagain.Properly.Tonight.”
WewatchZeusbarelyglanceatGanymede.“Itdoesn’tlooklikehe’sinterestedinmeetinganyone.”
“That’sbecausehehasn’tmetyouyet.”
Isnort.Ican’thelpit.Iknowmystrengths.Iampretty,butIamnotraffic-stoppingbeautythewaymysistersare.Mytruestrengthliesinmybrain,andIhighlydoubtZeuswouldappreciatethat
NottomentionIhavenodesiretobeHera.
Butthen,itdoesn’tmatterwhatIwant,doesit?Motherhasplansuponplans,andI’mthebestcandidateofherremainingsingledaughters.Forallmyinternaldramatics,IsupposethereareworsefatesthanbeingoneoftheThirteen.AsHera,theonlydangerI’dtrulyfaceisfromZeus.AtleastthisZeusdoesn’thaveareputationforharminghispartners.
Imanageasmileasmymotherguidesmethroughthecrowdtowardthegaudythroneandthemanoccupyingit.We’reonlyafewfeetbehindAphroditeandGanymedewhenZeuscatchessightofus.Hedoesn’tsmile,butinterestlightshisblueeyesandheflickshisfingersatAphrodite.“That’senough.”
Amistake.
Aphroditeturnstowardus.Hergazeflicksoverme,instantlydismissingme,beforeturningtomymother.Herrival,thoughthetermisfartoomundanefortheamountofloathingthesetwowomenholdforeachother.
“Demeter,darling,Iknowyou’renotthinkingofthisdaughterasapotentialmarriagecandidate.”Aphroditemakesashowoflookingatmybody.“Nooffense,Psyche,butyou’rehardlythepropertypetobecomeHera.Youjust…don’tfitin.I’msureyouunderstand.”Hersmilegoessugarysweetanddoesnothingtodampenthepoisonofherwords.“Ifyou’dlike,I’mmorethanhappytosendoverthehealthplanIrecommendtoallmarriagehopefulswhileIworkontheirmatches.”
Wow,she’snoteventryingtobesubtle.Lovely.
Idon’thaveachancetorespondbecausemymother’sgriptightensonmyarmandshe’sturningabrilliantsmileattheotherwoman.“Aphrodite,darling,you’vebeenaroundlongenoughtolearntotakeahint.Zeusdismissedyou.”Sheleansforwardandlowershervoice.“Iknowrejectionstings,butit’simportanttokeepyourchinup.MaybeyoucanworkonanothermarriageforAresinstead.Lower-hangingfruitandallthat.”
ConsideringAreshastobeovereightyandispracticallyknockingonthedoorstotheunderworld,it’snowonderAphroditepracticallyshootsfireoutofhereyesatmymother.“Actually—”
“Whatarewetalkingabout?”
Thequestioncomesfromatall,dark-hairedwhitewomanasshestepsbetweenAphroditeandDemeterwithaconfidenceonlyamemberoftheKasiosfamilycanpulloff.ErisKasios,daughterofthelastZeus,sisterofthecurrentone.Sheweavesalittleonherfeetasifshe’shadtoomuchtodrink,butthesharpintelligenceinherdarkeyesisundimmedbyalcohol.Anact,then.
BothAphroditeandmymotherstraighten,andIcanseetheexactmomenttheydecideit’sintheirbestinteresttobepolite.Aphroditesmiles.“Eris,youlookstunningtonightasalways.”
She’stellingthetruth.Eriswearshercustomaryblack—alongdresswithadeepVinthefrontthatdipsnearlytoherbellybuttonandaslituponesidethatflasheslegwitheverystepshetakes.Herdarkhairfallsaroundherinwavesthatseemeffortless,whichisjustanindicationofhowmuchtimesheputintothem.
Erisgrinsather,asliceofcrimsonlipscurvinginawaythathasthesmallhairsrisingonthebackofmyneck.“Aphrodite.Apleasureasalways.”Sheturnstowardme,andherglasstips,sendinggreenliquidthatsmellslikeblacklicoricetosplatterbothAphrodite’sredgownandmymother’sgreenone.Bothwomenletlooselittleshrieksandjumpback.
“Oops.”Erispressesahandtoherchest,herexpressionperfectlysincere.“Mygods,I’msosorry.Imusthavedranktoomuch.”Sheweavesalittleonherfeet,andmymotherjumpsforwardtograbherelbow,nearlyrunningintoAphroditeattemptingtodothesame.
NoonewantsZeus’ssistertocollapseinthemiddleofapartyandmakeascene,potentiallyembarrassinghimandputtinganendtothenight’sfestivities.
They’resobusyensuringshestaysonherfeetthatneitherofthemnoticeherlookatmeand…wink.WhenIstare,ErisjerksherchininaclearcommandtomakeanescapewhileIcan.
Whatisthatallabout?
Idon’tstickaroundtoask.NotwithAphroditealreadyaimingthosebarbedarrowsshecallswordsinmymother’sdirectionandDemetersteppingrighttothelineinthesandbetweenthem.Whentheygetgoinglikethis,theycankeepitupforhours,justsnipe,snipe,snipingateachother.
IglanceatZeus,buthe’sturnedaway,speakingtoAthenainalowvoice.Ahwell.IfMotherissodeterminedtointroducemeproperlytoZeus,itlooksliketonightwon’tbethenight.
OrmaybeI’msimplylookingforagoodreasontoescape.
Idon’tstoptoworryaboutmymother.ShecanhandleAphrodite.She’sbeendoingitforyears.“Excuseme,”Imurmur.“Ihavetousetheladies’room.”Noonepaysmeanyattention,whichisfranklyjustperfect.
I’malreadymoving,slippingthroughthecrowdoftuxesandluxuriousgownsinarainbowofcolors.Diamondsandpricelessjewelsglitterbeneaththelightsscatteredthroughouttheroom,andIswearIcanfeeltheeyesoftheportraitsliningthewallsfollowmeasImove.Upuntilamonthago,therewereonlyeleven—andoneframekeptemptyforthenextHera—eachdepictingoneoftheThirteen.Asifanyoneneededthereminderofwhorulesthiscity.
Tonight,allthirteenarefinallyhere.
Hadeshasbeenaddedtothemix,hisdarkpaintingadirectcounterpointtothelightertonesoftheothertwelve.Heglowersdownattheroomthesamewayheglowersatthepeopleherewhenheactuallychoosestobepresent.Iwishhewereheretonight,ifonlybecausethatmeansPersephonewouldbehere,too.Thesepartiesweresomucheasiertosufferthroughwhenshewasatmyside.Nowthatshe’sgone,rulingthelowercityatHades’sside,beinginDodonaToweristediousintheextreme.
ItwillbesomuchworseifI’mHera.
Iletthethoughtgo.There’snopointinworryingaboutituntilIknowtheshapeofmymother’splansandhowreceptiveZeusistothem.Inthecorner,IcatchsightofHermes,Dionysus,andHelenKasiosgatheredaroundahightable.Theylooklikethey’replayingsomekindofdrinkinggame.Atleastthey’reenjoyingtheparty.Theydon’thaveanythingtoloseinthisspace,movingthroughthepowergamesandcarefullyveiledthreatsasnaturallyassharksthroughwater.
Icanfakeit—I’mrathergoodatfakingit—butitwillneverbeinstinctthesamewayitiswithpeoplelikethat.
Withoutbreakingstride,Ipushopenthedoorandheadoutintothequieterhallway.It’safterbusinesshoursandwe’reatthetopofthetower,soit’sdeserted.Good.Ihurrypasttheevenlyspaceddoorswiththeirfloor-to-ceilingcurtainsbracketingeachone.Theycreepmeout,especiallyatnight.Inevercanseemtoescapethefeelingthere’ssomeonehidingthere,justwaitingformetopass.Ihavetokeepmygazestraightahead,evenasalowrustlebehindmehasmyinstinctsscreamingtorun.Iknowbetter;it’smyownfootstepsechoingback,givingmetheimpressionofbeingchased.
Ican’toutrunmyself.
Ican’toutrunanyofthedangerwaitingformebackinthemainballroom.
Itakemytimeinthebathroom,bracingmyhandsonthesinkandbreathingdeeply.Coldwaterwouldfeelgoodonmyface,butIwon’tbeabletoproperlyfixmymakeupandgoingbackwithevenahairoutofplacewillhavethepredatorscircling.IfIbecomeHera,thosevoiceswillgetlouder,willbeinescapable.I’malreadynotenoughforthem,or,rather,I’mtoomuch.Tooquiet,toofat,tooplain.
“Stopit.”Sayingthewordsoutloudgroundsme,justalittle.
Thoseinsultsaren’tmybeliefs.I’veworkedhardforthemnottobe.It’sonlywhenI’mhere,havingmyfaceshovedinwhatOlympusconsidersperfection,thatthetoxicvoicefrommyteenageyearsrearsitsuglyhead.
Fivebreaths.Slowinhales.Evenslowerexhales.
BythetimeIgettofive,Ifeelalittlemorelikemyself.Iliftmyheadbutavoidlookingatmyreflection.Themirrorsheredon’ttellthetruth,evenifthoseliesareonlyinmyhead.Besttoavoidthementirely.Onelastbreath,andImakemyselfleavetherelativesafetyofthebathroomandmovebackintothehall.
HopefullymymotherandAphroditewillhaveeitherfinishedtheirspatortakenittosomecorneroftheballroomsoIcanreturntothepartywithoutgettingdrawnbackintothedrama.Hidinginthehallwayuntilit’stimetoleaveisn’tanoption.IrefusetogiveAphroditeanyindicationthatherwordsaffectedmeintheslightest.
IttakestwostepstorealizeI’mnotalone.
Amanstaggersdownthehallwaytowardme,comingfromthedirectionoftheelevators.Forabriefmoment,Iconsiderignoringhimandheadingbacktotheparty,butthatmeanshe’llbeshadowingmysteps.Nottomentionthereareonlytwoofusouthereandthere’snowaytopretendI’mdoinganythingbutignoringhim.Hedoesn’tlooktoogood,either,eveninthelowlight.Maybehe’sdrunk,alittlepregamepartythatwenttoofar.
Withaninternalsigh,Islipmypublicpersonabackintoplaceandgivehimatinysmileandawave.“Latearrival?”
“Somethinglikethat.”
Ohshit.Iknowthatvoice.Itakegreatpainstoavoidthemanitbelongsto.
Eros.Aphrodite’sson.Aphrodite’sfixer
Iwatchhimapproachwarily,steppingoutofshadowashecomesnear.He’sasgorgeousashismotheris.Tallandblond,thoughhishairhasadistinctivecurlthatwouldbecuteframinganyotherface.Hisfeaturesaretoomasculinetoeverbesomethingasharmlessascute.He’stallandhasastrongbody,toapointwhereevenhisexpensivesuitcan’thidehowbroadhisshouldersare,howmuscledhisarms.Themanisbuiltforviolencewithafacethatwouldmakeasculptureweep.Apt,that.
Icatchsightofastainonhiswhiteshirtandnarrowmyeyes.“Isthatblood?”
Eroslooksdownandcursessoftly.“IthoughtIgotitall.”
Nopointinexaminingthatstatement.Ineedtogetoutofhere,andfast.Except…“You’relimping.”Staggering,really,butnotbecausehe’sdrunk.He’sspeakingtooclearlyforthat.
“I’mnot,”heanswerseasily.Lieseasily.He’smostassuredlylimping,andthat’smostcertainlyblood.Iknowwhatthatmeans;hemusthavecomestraightherefromcommittingsomeviolenceonAphrodite’sbehalf.TheverylastthingIwantistogetinvolvedwiththosetwo.
Still,Ihesitate.“Isityourblood?”
Erosstopsnexttome,hisblueeyesholdingnoemotionatall.“It’sthebloodofthelastprettygirlwhoaskedtoomanyquestions.”2
Psyche
ErosAmbrosiathinksI’mpretty.
Ishutdownthatuseless,foolhardythoughtimmediately.“I’mgoingtopretendthat’sajoke.”EventhoughIknowbetter.There’snothingmoredangerousinOlympusthanbeingaprettygirlwhomanagestoenrageAphroditeenoughthatshesendshersoncalling.
EspeciallyaprettygirlwhomightstandinthewayofherplanstosecureherchoiceforthenextHera.
“It’sreallynot.”
Ican’ttellifErosisbeingseriousornot,butbettertoerronthesideofcaution.Heobviouslydoesn’twanttotalk,andspendinganymoretimeinhispresencethanstrictlynecessaryisaterribleidea.Iopenmymouthtomakesomeexcusetogobackintothebathroomtohideuntilhe’sgone,butthat’snotwhatcomesout.“Ifyougointhereinjured,someonemightdecidetofinishthejob.Youandyourmotherhavemorethanyourfairshareofenemiesinthatroom.”SurelyIdon’thavetotellhimthatanyperceivedweaknesswillhavethoseenemiesdescendinglikewolvestoaslaughter?
Erosraiseshisbrows.“Whydoyoucare?”
“Idon’t.”Ireallydon’t.I’mjustafoolwhodoesn’tknowwhentoquit.NomatterwhatelseistrueofEros,hedidn’tchoosetobeachildofoneoftheThirteenanymorethanIdid.“I’malsonotsomeonewhowishesyouharm.Letmehelpyou.”
“Idon’tneedyourhelp.”Heturnsandheadsbackthewayhecame,inthedirectionoftheelevator.
“I’mofferingitallthesame.”Mybodymakesthedecisiontofollowhimbeforemybraincancatchup,mylegsmovingontheirownandcarryingmefurtherfromtherelativesafetyoftheparty.Steppingintotheelevatorfeelslikesteppingpastthepointofnoreturn.IwishIcouldsayI’moverreacting,butEros’sreputationprecedeshimandit’s…very,veryviolentandvery,verydangerous.Iclaspmyhandsinfrontofmeandfighttheurgetobabble.
Weonlydescendafewfloors,andthenheleadsmethroughglassandstainless-steelofficestoadoorthatopenseasilybeneathhishand.It’sonlywhenwe’reclosedintogetherthatIseeit’safancybathroom.LiketherestofDodonaTower,it’sminimalistwithblacktilefloors,afewstalls,atiled-inshower,andatrioofstainless-steelsinks.There’sevenasmallareanearthedoorwithapairofcomfortable-lookingchairsandasmallroundtablebetweenthem.
“Youseemtoknowyourwayaroundhereratherwell.”
“MymotheroftenhasbusinesswithZeus.”
Iswallowhard.“Therewerebathroomsupstairs.”Closertotherelativesafetyoftheparty.
“Thisonehasfirst-aidstuff.”Hestartstoleandowntoopenoneofthecabinetsbeneaththesinkandwinces.
Thatpromptsmeintomotion.ThisiswhyI’mhere:tohelp,nottowatchhimstruggle.“Sitdownbeforeyoufalldown.”
I’msurprisedwhenhedoesn’targue,justlimpstothechairsandsinksontooneofthem.Thinkingaboutthiswholesituationtoohardisamistake,soIfocusonthetaskoffiguringouthowbadlyhe’shurt,patchinghimup,andgettingbacktotheballroombeforemymothersendsoutasearchparty.
ConsideringlasttimeoneofherdaughterswentmissingataDodonaTowerevent,saiddaughterendedupcrossingtheRiverStyxandthrowingherselfintoHades’sarms…
Yes,betternottobegonetoolong.
Aspromised,there’safirst-aidkitinthecabinetbelowthesink.Igrabit,turnaround,andfreeze.“Whatareyoudoing?”Myvoicecomesoutsqueaky,butIcan’thelpit.
Erosstopsinthemiddleoftakingoffhisshirt.“What’swrong?”
Everything’swrong.I’vebeenmovinginsimilarcirclestothismanforadecade,butI’veneverseenhimanythinglessthanperfectlypressedandpolishedanddownrightgleamingattheseparties.Hisbeautyisbreathtakingandalmosttooperfecttobereal.
Hedoesn’tlooktooperfectrightnow.
No,he’salltooreal.ImpossibletokeepthementalfenceIhavearoundErosasdangerousplayboywhenhe’speelingoffhisshirtandrevealingabodycarvedbythegods.Theexhaustiononhisfaceonlymakeshimmoreattractive,whichImightfindhorriblyunfairlater,butrightnowIcan’tfindenoughoxygeninthisroomtobreathe.
Panic.That’swhatI’mfeeling.Purepanic.It’snotattraction.Itcan’tbe.Nottohim.“You’restripping.”
Beneaththewhitefabric,Icanseethatsomeone—likelyEroshimself—hasslappedascatteringofbandagesacrosshischest.Hegivesmeacharmingsmilethat’sonlyslightlystrainedaroundtheedges.“Iwasundertheimpressionyouwantedmeoutofmyclothes.”
“Pass.”Iblurtthewordout,myhard-wonpublicpersonanowhereinevidence
“Everyoneelsedoes.”
Weirdlyenough,hisarrogancecalmsme.Itakeabreath,andthenanother,andgivehimthelookthatcommentdeserves.Banter.Icandobanter.I’vebeentradingartfulinsultswithpeoplelikeErosformyentireadultlife.“AmIsupposedtofeelsorryforyou?Orareyoubragging?PleasebeclearsoIcanadjustmyreactionaccordingly.”
Heburstsoutlaughing.“Clever.”
“Itry.”Ifrown.“Ithoughtyourlegisinjured.”
“It’sjustabruise.”Ifanything,hischarmingsmilerampsupafewnotches.“Tryingtogetmeoutofmypants,too?”
Ifhimbeingshirtlessisenoughtocausethisuncomfortablereaction,Imostcertainlydon’twanthimtoloseanymoreitemsofclothing.Imightcombust,andiftheembarrassmentdoesn’tkillmeonthespot,itwillhandErosaweapontouseagainstme.“Absolutelynot.”
Hefinishesshruggingoutofhisshirtandgivesaroughexhale.“That’sashame.”
“I’msureyou’lllive.”Isetthekitonthetableandeyehischest.Someofthebandageshavealreadycomeloose,andthereareredsmearswherethebloodmadecontactwithhisshirt.Whathappenedtohim?Didhegetintoafightwitharosebush?“Theseneedtoberedone.”
“Goforit.”Heleansbackandcloseshiseyes.
I’mabouttomakeasharpcommentabouthimhavingmedoallthework,butthewordsdieinmythroatwhenIpeelbackthebandagetofind…“Eros,thisisalotofblood.”Ican’ttellhowseriousthewoundsarewiththemessbetweenthebloodandbandages,butsomeofthemarestillbleeding.
“Youshouldseetheotherguy,”hesayswithoutopeninghiseyes.ConfirmingwhatIalreadysuspected.
Istheotherguystillalive?Noneedtoaskthatquestion.Thefactthathe’shereatallmeanshewassuccessfulinwhateverhistaskhadbeen.Ifinishremovingthebandagesandsitback,examininghischest.Thereareatleastadozencuts.“I’mgoingtoneedtocleanthisorthenewbandageswon’thold.”
Hewavesahand.Permission.
Idon’tallowmyselftothinkasIriseanddigaroundbeneaththesinkuntilIfindabasketofcleanwashcloths.Iwettwoofthemandbringthedryonesovertotrytomopuptheworstofthemess.Ittakesseverallongminutestocleanitaway.
WhichisrightaroundthetimeIrealizeI’messentiallygivingErosAmbrosiaaspongebath.
Isitbackabruptly.“Eros,someofthesemightneedstitches.”Theydon’tlooknearlyasbadastheydidbeforeIcleanedhimup,butI’mnotadoctor.SurelyhehasoneonstafflikeeveryotherhouseholdoftheThirteen.Idon’tunderstandwhyhedidn’tcallthatpersoninsteadoftryingtoshowupforthisblastedparty.
“It’sfine.It’llholduntiltheendofthenight.”
Ifrowndownathim.“Youcan’tbeserious.You’reprioritizingattendingaparty,ratherthanfindingadoctorandgettingthemedicalattentionyoumightrequire.”
“YouknowbetterthananyonewhyIneedto.”Atthat,hefinallyopenshiseyes.Theyseemevenbluerthanbefore,andastrangelookpassesthroughthem.Itmustbepain,becausethere’snowaythatErosAmbrosia,sonofAphrodite,islookingatmewithdesire.
Despitemyself,mygazeflickstohismouth.He’sgotaverynicemouth,lipscurvedandsensual.It’sreallyashamehe’sadangerousmurderer.
Todistractmyselffromsuchfoolhardythoughts,Istandandmovetothesink.Itfeelsremarkablylikerunningaway,butI’mjustwashingtheman’sbloodfrommyhands.Iglanceatthemirrorandstopshort.He’sstaringatmewiththestrangestexpressiononhisface.It’snotthedesireI’vealreadyconvincedmyselfIimagined.No,Erosislookingatmelikehe’sneverseenmebefore,likemaybeI’veactedagainsthisexpectations.
Thatcan’tberight,though.Itdoesn’tmatterifI’veoccupiedthesamepartiesandballroomsandeventsasthismanforthelasttenyears;thereisabsolutelynoreasonforErostothinkofmeatall.Icertainlydon’tspendmuchtimethinkingabouthim.Hemightbegorgeous,evenforOlympus,flawlessenoughtohavehislikenessplasteredacrosseverybillboardifhewantedthework,butErosisdangerous
Idrymyhandsandmovebacktotheseatacrossfromhim.Somehow,withoutallthebloodinplay,thisfeelsevenmoreintimate.Ipushthethoughtawayandgettoworkbandaginghim.ThoughIhalfexpecthimtopushmyhandsawayanddoithimself,hestaysperfectlystill,barelyseemingtobreatheasIcarefullyapplybandageafterbandage.Thereareaboutadozencuts,allsaidanddone,anddespitemyassertionthatheneedstoseeadoctor,mostofthemaresmallenoughthatthey’venearlystoppedbleeding.
“You’rerathergoodatthat.”Hislowvoiceisfilledwithedges.Ican’ttellifhe’saccusingmeormerelymakingacomment.
Ichoosetotakeitatfacevalue.“Igrewuponafarm.”Sortof.Itwastechnicallyafarm,butitwasn’twhatpeoplepicturewhentheythinkofso-calledfarmlife.Therewasnoquaintlittlehousewithafadedredbarn.Mymothermighthaveexpandedherfortunewithherthreemarriages,butshewashardlystartingfromscratch.Wewereanindustrialfarmandthesetupreflectedthat.
Hislipscurl,somethinglightflickeringinhiseyes.“Aretherealotofstabwoundsonfarms?”
“Youadmitit,then—thatyouwerestabbed.”
Nowhe’sactuallysmiling,thoughthere’sstillpainevidentonhisface.“Iadmitnothing.”
“Ofcoursenot.”IrealizeI’mstilltooclosetohimandbackupquickly,movingtothesinktowashmyhandsagain.“Buttoansweryourquestion,whenthereareavarietyoflargemachines,nottomentionvariousanimalsthattakeexceptiontofoolishhumans,injurieshappen.”EspeciallywhenonepossessesadventuroussisterslikeIdid.NotthatI’mgoingtotellErosthat.Thisinteractionhasalreadybeentoointimate,toostrange.“Ineedtogetback.”
“Psyche.”HewaitsuntilIturntofacehim.Foramoment,helooksnothingliketheconfidentpredatorI’veworkedsohardtoavoid.He’ssimplyaman,tiredandinpain.Erostouchesoneofthebandagesonhischest.“WhyhelpAphrodite’spetmonster?”
“Evenmonstersneedhelpsometimes,Eros.”Ishouldleaveitatthat,buthisquestionfeltsounexpectedlyvulnerablethatIcan’thelptheimpulsetosoothehim.Justalittle.“Besides,you’renotreallyamonster.Idon’tseeasinglescaleorfangtospeakof.”
“Monsterscomeinallshapesandsizes,Psyche.Youshouldknowthatbynow,livinginOlympus.”Hestartstobuttonuphisshirt,buthishandsareshakingsobadly,hefumblesit.
ImovebeforeIhaveachancetorememberwhythisissuchaterribleidea.“Letme.”Ileanoverandbuttonhimupcarefully.Myfingersbrushhisbarechestafewtimes,andI’mcertainIimaginethewayhehissesoutanexhaleinresponse.Pain.That’sallitis.Erosiscertainlynotrespondingtomytouch.IholdmybreathasIfinishthelastbuttonandmoveback.“Thereyougo.”
Heclimbstohisfeet.Iwatchclosely,butheseemsalittlesteadierthanhewasearlier.Erospullshisjacketonandbuttonsitup,hidingtheworstofthebloodstains.“Thanks.”
“Don’tthankme.Anyonewoulddoit.”
“No.”Heshakeshisheadslowly.“Theyreallywouldn’t.”Hedoesn’tgivemeachancetorespondtothat.Justmotionstothedoor.“Let’sgo.Headupwithoutme;Ineedtofindareplacementshirt.”Hehesitates.“Itwouldn’tbegoodforustobeseenreturningtothepartytogether.”
Itreallywouldn’t.ItwouldgetOlympus’sgossipmongerschatting,andAphroditeandDemetermightstrokeoutinpurerageinresponse.TheverylastthingIwantistobelinkedtoErosinanyway,shape,orform.“Ofcourse.”
Aswestepintothehall,Erospresseshishandtothesmallofmyback.Thecontactjoltsthroughmewiththeviolenceoflightninginabottle.Imissastepandhemovesquickly,catchingmyelbowandkeepingmefromendinguponthefloor.“Yougood?”
“Yes,”Imanage.Idon’tlookathimCan’tlookathim.ItwasdifficultenoughtoignorethisunfortunatesparkbetweenuswhileIpatchedhimup.Idon’tlikemychanceswithhimstandingsoclose,onehandonmylowerbackandtheothercuppingmyelbow.Ishouldmostdefinitelynot…
IliftmyfaceandEroslooksdownand,gods,we’resoclose.Thisisamistake.Atanymoment,I’llpullawayandputarespectableamountofdistancebetweenusanditwillbelikethisstrangelittleinterludeneverhappened.At…any…moment…
Abrightflashsearsmyeyes.IjerkawayfromErosandblinkrapidly.Ohno.Ohno,no,no,no.Thiscan’tbehappening.
Exceptitishappening.Myvisionclearsslowly,andanyhopeIhaveofpretendingsomelightbulbshatteredatrandomgoesupinsmoke.Ashortwhitemanwithbrightgingerhairandacamerainhishandsstandsafewfeetaway.Hegrinsatus.“IknewIsawyougetintheelevatortogether.Psyche,caretocommentaboutwhatyou’redoingsneakingawayfromZeus’spartytogetalonetimewithErosAmbrosia?”
Erostakesamenacingsteptowardthephotographer,butIgrabhisarmandfightforasmile.“Justafriendlylittlechat.”
Themandoesn’tmissabeat.“IsthatwhyEros’sshirtisbuttonedupincorrectly?Andyoulookedlikeyouwereabouttokissinthispicture?”He’sgonebeforeIcancomeupwithaliethatmightmakesense.
“We’refucked,”Ibreathe.
EroscursesfarmorecreativelythanIhave.“Thataboutsumsitup.”
Iknowhowthisgoes.Beforetheendofthenight,picturesofmeandEroswillbeplasteredacrossthegossipsites,andpeoplewillstarttheorizingaboutourforbiddenromance.Icanseetheheadlinesnow.
Star-crossedlovers!WhatwillDemeterandAphroditethinkoftheirchildren’ssecretrelationship?
Forgetstrokingoutinrage.Mymotherisgoingtokillme3
Eros
Twoweekslater
“Bringmeherheart.”
“Mychestishealedupjustfine.Thanksforasking.”Idon’tlookupfrommyphoneasmymotherpacesfromonesideoftheroomtotheother,herskirtswishingaboutherlegs.Knowingher,shechoseherclothingtodaytomaximizeherdramaticflouncing.
She’snothingifnotashowwoman.
Thephoneisn’tthedistractionI’dlikeittobe.Inthetwoweekssincetheparty,thespeculationandgossipaboutmeandPsycheDimitriouhasn’tdieddown.Ifanything,ourrefusaltomakeapubliccommentaboutithasonlyfannedtheflames.There’snothingOlympuslovesmorethanagoodstory,andthechildrenoftwopublicenemieshookingupisnothingifnotagoodstory.Thetruthdoesn’tmatterwhenthere’sacompellinglietobetold.
Nottomentionthephotographergotastellarshot.
Inthepicture,we’restandingsoclose,nearlyinanembrace,andshe’slookingupatmeinquestion.Andme?Thelookonmyfacecanonlybedescribedashungry.Iwouldn’thavedonesomethingasfoolishastokissPsycheinthathallway,butnoonelookingatourimagewillbelieveit.
“Stopplayingwithyourphoneandlookatme.”Mymotherspinsonhertallheelandglaresdownatme.She’sfifty,andthoughshe’dskinmealiveforsayingasmuch,nowrinklesorgrayhairbetrayher.Shespendsafortunetokeepherskinsmoothandherhairaperfecticyblond.Nottomentionthecountlesshourswithherpersonaltrainertoaccomplishabodytwenty-year-oldswouldkillfor.Allinthenameofhertitle,Aphrodite.WhenonehastheroleofthematchmakerofOlympus—thepeddleroflove—onemustmeetcertainexpectations.
“Eros,putdownthatgodsdamnedphoneandlistentome.”
“I’mlistening.”Myboredtonebetraysmywaningpatience,butI’malreadytiredofthisconversation.We’vehadsomevariationofitaboutadozentimesinthelasttwoweeks.“Ialreadytoldyouwhatreallyhappened.”
“Noonecareswhatreallyhappened.”She’salmostscreechingnow,hercarefullycuratedsmokytonesgoinghighandsharp.“Theyaredraggingyournamethroughthemudbyattachingittothatupstart’sdaughter.”
Idon’tpointoutthatthetitleAphroditehasnomorelegacythanDemeter’s.TheonlytitlesinOlympusthatpassfromparenttochildareZeus,Hades,andPoseidon.TherestoftheThirteencometothemasadults,inwaysbothaboveboardandclandestine.Mymothercan’tstandthefactthatshewasappointedbythelastAphrodite,whileDemeterwaschosenthroughacitywideelection
ThepeoplechoseDemeter,andshe’sneverletmymotherforgetit.
“Itwon’tbelongbeforethenextscandalhits.Justbepatient.”
“Youdon’ttellmewhattodo,Son.Igivetheorders,andyouobey.”Shestopsinfrontofmeandglares.“Thisisyourmess.Ifyou’ddonethelastjobproperly,youwouldn’thavebeenphotographedwiththatgirl.”
“Mother.”Idon’tknowwhyI’marguing.Oncemymothergoesonarampage,it’sallbutimpossibletodiverther.It’soneofthereasonspeoplestepsocarefullyaroundher.EvenIhavetostepcarefullyaroundher.Shemightpresentourrelationshiptothepublicasadoringmotherandloyalson,butthetruthisfarlessappealing.IamAphrodite’sknife.Shetellsmewheretogo,whatrevengetoexact,andIfollowalonglikeafucked-uptoysoldier.Myinputisneveraskedforandsureasfuckneverheeded.ItoldherthatweneededtowaittodealwithPolyphonteinsteadofrushingintothingsthenightofthatparty,butAphroditepushedthesubject.
Shealwayspushesthefuckingsubject.
“Herheart,Eros.Donotmakemeaskagain.”
Iswallowbackmyirritation,butonlybarely.“You’regoingtohavetobemorespecific,Mother.Doyouliterallywantherheart?Doyouhaveasilverboxallpickedoutforit?Maybeyoucanstickitonyourmantelnexttomygraduationphoto.”
Shemakesasoundsuspiciouslylikeahiss.“Youaresuchalittleshit.”ThisistheAphroditeshedoesn’tshowanyoneelseinOlympus.OnlyIgetthedubiousprivilegeofwitnessingwhatamonstermymothertrulyis.
Butthen,I’mnotonetothrowstonesonthatsubject.
Idon’tseeasinglescaleorfang.
InearlyflinchatthememoryofPsyche’ssoftvoice.Ireallythoughtshewassmarterthanthat;she’dhavetobeafooltomoveinnearlythesamecirclesIhavefortenyearsandnotcallmeamonster.
Imakeashowofturningoffmyphonescreenandgivingmymothermyfullattention.“You’vedecidedonthiscourseofaction,sodon’tbeshynow.”
Anotherpersonwouldflinchinthefaceofmymildtonewiththethreatofviolencethreadedbeneathit.Aphroditejustlaughs.“Eros,darling,youreallyaretoomuch.AfterthatstuntDemeterpulledlastfallwithherotherdaughterandHades,shereallythinksshecanbypassmecompletelyandsetupPsycheasthenextHera.Overmydeadbody.Or,rather,overhers.”
Mychestgoesstrangelytight,butIignoreit.“Ifyou’resofuriousatDemeter,thendosomethingabouther,ratherthanthedaughter.”
“Youknowbetter.”Sheflicksthatawaywithherfingertips.“Bothmotheranddaughterneedtobetaughtalesson.Demeterhasbeenthrowingherweightaround,thinkingshe’sanythingotherthanaglorifiedfarmer.Thiswillbringherdownanotch.”
Onlymymotherwouldconsiderthedeathofachildtobebringingsomeonedownanotch.
Butthen,she’lldoanythingtomaintainherpower.Aphroditeisresponsibleforanumberofthings,buthermostpopulartaskisarrangingmarriagebetweentherichandelitewithinOlympus.TheThirteenandtheirfamilies,yes,butalsothoseinthewidercircleofinfluencethatneverquitemakeitintothepartiesatDodonaTower.
WithDemeterinchinginonherterritory,it’snowondermymother’sheadisabouttoexplode.ShearrangedallthreemarriagesforthelastZeus—thefuckerkeptkillingoffhiswives,whichsuitedmymotherquitenicelyasshelovesaweddingandhateseverythingthatfollows.SecuringanewHeraforthenewZeusishertoppriority,anditseemslikeDemeterisdeterminedtolaunchPsycheintothepositionofHerawithoutconsultingAphrodite.
Itrytopictureit,butmymindrebelsatthethought.AllIcanseeisthelineofconcentrationbetweenPsyche’sbrowsasshebandagedmeup.SurelysomeonefoolishenoughtoshowkindnesstothesonoftheirenemyisthesamekindofsomeonewhowillbeeatenaliveinthepositionofHera.
Iclearmythroat.“How’sZeusdoingthesedays?Doeshenotlikeanyofyoureligibleoptions?”Upuntilafewmonthsago,hewasPerseus,butnamesarethefirstthingsacrificedatthealtaroftheThirteen.Onceuponatime,wewerefriends,butOlympianlifehasawayofforcingpeopleapart.Theolderwegot,themorePerseusbecameembroiledintrainingtobecomethenextZeus.Andme?Well,mylifetookanequallydarkpath.We’restillfriends,Iguess,butthere’sadistancetherethatneitherofuscanquiterecover.Idon’tevenknowwheretobegintotry.
Iletthethoughtdriftaway.PerseushasbeenZeus’sheirforhisentirelife.Heknewhe’dtakethetitlewhenhisfatherdied.Ifithappenedabitearlierthananyoneexpected…well,he’smorethancapableofhandlingit.It’snotmyproblem.Itcan’tbemyproblem.Afterall,Ididn’tkilltheman.
“Don’tchangethesubject,”shesnaps.“EversincePersephoneranoffandshackedupwithHades,Olympusisunbalanced.NowDemeterthinksshe’sgoingtopairupanotherdaughterwithanotherlegacyposition?What’snext?MarryingoffthatferalolderdaughterofherstoPoseidon?”Shehuffs.“Ithinknot.SomeoneneedstocheckDemeter,andifnooneelsewillstepup,thenwe’llhaveto.”
“YoumeanI’llhaveto.Youmightbedemandingaheart,butwebothknowthatI’mtheonedoingallthework.”Ihavenodesireforsomeonetostartcallingformyhead,soItrytokeepthemurderstoaminimum.It’ssomucheasiertoremoveanopponentwithawell-placedrumororsimplyobservethemuntiltheirownactionsprovidetheammunitionfortheirdownfall.Olympusisfilledtothebrimwithsin,ifonebelievesinthatsortofthing,andnooneintheThirteen’sshiningcircleiswithouttheirfairshareofvices.
Except,apparently,Demeter’sdaughters.
They’vetriedhardtostayoutofthespotlight,anditevenworked…atleastupuntilafewmonthsago.EversincetheoldZeusdecidedhewantedPersephoneforhisown—forallthegoodthatdidhim—OlympushasgonerabidfortheDimitriousisters.Afterall,Persephone’sstoryseemslikeanepiconefortheages,thekindofshitthegossipsiteseatrightup.ZeusdroveherrightintoHades’sarms,whichinturnbroughtHadesoutoftheshadowsofthelowercity.Noonesawthatcoming.
ZeusandtherestoftheuppercityliketopretendOlympusstopsattheRiverStyx.HadeswassomethingofadirtylittlesecretonlytheThirteenandafewchoiceothershadknowledgeof.Nowhe’soutintheopenandtheentirepowerbalanceofOlympusisinflux.Itwillbemonthsyetbeforethingssettle,possiblylonger.
Hades’sromancewithPersephonehasonlyampedupOlympus’sfascinationwiththeDimitriousisters.They’reallattractive,butnoneofthemquitefit.Persephonealwayshadhereyesonthehorizon,herdeterminationtofindawayoutofthecitycleartoanyonewithadropofperceptiontotheirname.Callisto,theoldest,isjustasferalasmymotherclaims.She’sconstantlygettingintofightsorsayingthingssheshouldn’t,ablatantrefusaltoplayOlympus’spowergamesthatpeoplebothresentandaredrawnto.Eurydice,theyoungest,isprettyandsweetandfartoonaiveforsomeoneinthiscity.
Andthenthere’sPsyche.It’snotjustthatshe’sdifferentphysicallyfromhersisters—she’sjustflat-outdifferent.Sheplaysthegameandplaysitwell,allwithoutseemingto.She’sgotthisunassumingthinggoingon,butI’vebeenwatchingherlongenoughtonoticethatshenevermakesamovebyaccident.Ican’tproveit,ofcourse,butIthinkshe’sgotjustassavvyabraininherheadashermotherdoes.
NoneofthatexplainswhathappenedthenightofZeus’sparty.IfPsychewerereallyasconnivingashermother,sheneverwouldhaveletherselfgetcaughtalonewithme.Shewouldn’thavepatchedmeup.Shewouldn’thavedoneanyofthethingsthathappenedfromthemomentIsawherinthathallway.
Idon’thavemuchofamoralcenter,butevenIthinkit’sshittytorewardherkindnessbyendingherlife.
“Eros.”Mothersnapsherfingersinfrontofmyface.“Stopdaydreaminganddothistaskforme.”Shesmilesslowly,herblueeyesgoingicy.“BringmePsyche’sheart.”
“Haveyoureallythoughtthisthrough?”Iraisemybrows,workingtokeepmyexpressiondisinterested.“She’sratherbelovedbyhundredsofthousandsofOlympians—atleastaccordingtohersocial-mediafollowercounts.”
IrealizemymistakethesecondAphroditesneers.“She’safatgirlwithlittlestyleandnosubstance.TheonlyreasonMuseWatchandtheothersitesfollowheraroundisbecauseshe’sanovelty.She’snotevenclosetomyleague.”
Idon’targuewithherbecausethere’snopoint,butthetruthisthatPsycheisgorgeousandhasastylethatsetstrendsinawayAphroditecanonlydreamof.Whichisexactlytheproblem.Mymother’sdecidedtotakedowntwobirdswithonestone.“Iwasn’tawareyouwereincompetition.”
“Becausewe’renot.”ShewavesthatawayasifI’mfoolishenoughtobelieveher.“Thisisn’taboutme.Thisisaboutyou.”Shepropsherhandsonherhips.“Iwantthistakencareof,Eros.Youhavetodothisforme.”
Somethinginmychesttwinges,butIignoreit.IfIbelievedinsouls,myactionswouldhaveguaranteedI’dsacrificedminelongago.Thereisapriceforpowerinthiscity,andwithamotherintheThirteen,Ineverhadachanceatinnocence.Ifyou’renotatthetopoftheOlympuspowerstructure,you’rebeingcrushedbeneathsomeoneelse’sheelastheyuseyoutogetahead.Ihavenochoice.Iwasbornintothisgame,andtheonlyoptionisbeingthebest,thescariest,theonepeoplewoulddoanythingtoavoidfuckingwith.Itkeepsbothmeandmymothersafe.IfitmeansthatsometimesI’mrequiredtodotheselittletasksforher?It’sasmallenoughpricetopay.“I’llseeitdone.”
“Beforetheendoftheweek.”
Thatdoesn’tgivememuchtimeatall.Istompdownontheflickerofresentmentandnod.“IsaidI’llseeitdoneandIwill.”
“Good.”Shetwirlsaway,herskirtonceagainflaringdramaticallyaroundher,andstridesoutoftheroom.
That’smymother,allright.Herefortheproclamationsofrevengeandheavywiththedemands,butwhenitcomestimetoactuallydothework,she’ssuddenlygotsomewheretobe.
It’sjustaswell.I’mgoodatwhatIdobecauseIknowwhentobeflashyandwhentoflybelowtheradar.Aphroditewouldn’tknowhowtobesubtleifherlifedependedonit.IwaitafullthirtysecondsbeforeIpushtomyfeetandwalktomyfrontdoor.Ifshechangeshermindandcomesbacktospoutoffsomemorebullshit,she’llbepissedtofindmydoorlocked,butIdon’tlikebeinginterruptedonceIgettoplanning.
Andfrankly,it’sgoodformymothertobefoiledfromtimetotime.Shecontrolssomuchofmylife,it’simportanttohaveatleastonespacethatisAphrodite-free—evenoccasionally.AsmuchasIchafeatbeingunderhercontrol,myoptionsarelimited.MymotherisoneoftheThirteen.NomatterwhereIresideinOlympus,thefactremainsthatsheholdsallthecards—allthepower—andIammerelyatooltobepickedupatherleisure.
I’mnosaint.I’velongsincemademypeacewithmypathinlife.Butfuckifitdoesn’tsmothermesometimes,especiallywhenAphroditegivesanorderthatfeelsespeciallycruel.Psychehelpedme,andnowmymother’scommandedmyhandtobetheonethatstrikesherdown.
Iheadthroughthepenthousetowhatpassesformysaferoom.IuseittostorethingsIdon’twantnosyguests—orHermes—togettheirhandson.She’striedatleastadozentimestobreakintoit,andsofarmysecurityhasheld,butI’malltooawarethateventuallyshemightprevail.Still,it’sthebestoptionavailabletome.
OnceIlockthatdoor,Isitbehindmycomputerandconsidermyoptions.ThiswouldbesomuchsimplerifAphroditejustwantedtomakeanonlethalexampleofPsyche.Shemightbecraftingareputationasaninfluencerinthatquietwayofhers,butreputationsareeasytoburntoash.I’vedoneitdozensoftimesovertheyears,andnodoubtI’lldoitmanymore.
Butno,mymotherwantsherliteralheart.HowveryEvilQueenofher.IshakemyheadandbringupmyfilesontheDimitriousisters.IhavefilesonalltheThirteenandtheirimmediatefamilies,aswellasclosefriends.InOlympus,informationis90percentofthebattle,soIworkhardtokeepmyselfinformed.Sincethepartytwoweeksago,I’vetakenaparticularinterestinPsyche,andIcan’tevenblamemymotherforit.
Psychedidn’thavetohelpme.
Shewouldhavebeensomuchsmartertoturnawayandpretendsheneversawme.Anyoneelsewouldhavedoneasmuch.EvensomeofthepeopleIconsiderfriendswouldhavemadethatchoice.Idon’tblamethemforit.InOlympus,it’severypersonforthemselves.
IclickthroughthemostrecentarticlesonMuseWatch.Persephonevisitedherfamilylastweekendbrieflyandcausedquitethestirbecauseshebroughthernewhusbandwithher.TheHades-Demeterallianceisonenobodysawcoming,andit’sfeedingintomymother’sparanoia.ShehadthelastZeusonaleash,buthissonhasn’ttakenthebaitshekeepsdanglinginfrontofhim.It’sgotherworried.
IstoponapictureofPsycheandhersistersshopping.TheDimitriousistersseemtogenuinelyloveandsupporteachother.Theymightdiptheirtoesintoplayingthepowergames,buttheymostlyholdthemselvesseparate.Idon’tknowifit’sbecausetheythinkthey’rebetterthantherestofusoriftherestofusarejustsonaturallyinsularthatwedidn’texactlywelcomethemwithopenarmswhentheyfirstshowedup.Mymotherlikestolabelthewholefamilyassocialclimbers,andmorethanafewwithintheThirteen’sinnercircleshavetakentodoingthesame.
Butifthatweretrue,PersephoneDimitriouwouldn’thavebravedcrossingtheRiverStyxtotrytogetawayfromamarriagewithZeus.
AndPsychewouldn’thavehelpedher.
EvenI’mnotsureexactlywhathappenedthatnight,butIknowPsychewasinvolved—anditwasn’ttoplaythepartoftherationalpartyconvincinghersisterthatthismarriagewouldhelptheirfamily’sposition.Iftheywereanyotherfamily,Psychewouldhavetakenadvantageofhersister’sabsenceandplacedherselfinfrontofZeusasacandidateforthenewHera.
Instead,shehelpedhersister.Justlikeshehelpedme.
IstudytheimageofPsyche.She’sgotlong,darkhairandfulllipsthatalwaysseemcurvedinasecretivesmile.Lookingather,Ican’tblamethegossipsitesforbeingsoobsessed:sheseemscomfortableinherbody,andthatkindofthingissexyasfuck.
She’sextremelyphotogenic,butthepicturesstilldon’tdoherjustice.There’ssomethingaboutherpresenceinpersonthatmakespeoplesitupandpayattention,evenwhenshe’sdimmingherlightasbestshecanthewayshealwaysseemstoatthepartieswe’vebothattendedovertheyears.
Shewasn’tdimmingherselfinthehallwayordowninthebathroomwhereshepatchedmeup.Idon’tthinkitwasonpurpose,butIcaughtaglimpseofabrightandinquisitivemindbehindthatprettyface.Shemightplayasifherlooksareallshehasgoingforher,butshe’ssmart.Toosmarttogetcaughtalonewithme,andyetshetookthatriskandgotburned.Why?BecauseIsoobviouslyneededhelp.Becauseevenmonstersneedhelpsometimes.
Allthisleadsmetooneveryunfortunateconclusion.
PsycheDimitrioumightactuallybewhatpassesforaunicorninOlympus—agoodperson.
Icurseandclosethewindow.Itdoesn’tmatterifshe’shotorthatIrespectthewayshe’ssoeffectivelydodgedthepowergamessinceherfamilyarrivedonthesceneorthatshe’snice.Mymotherhasatask,andIknowtheconsequencesoffailing.
Exile.
Beingleftwithnothing.Beingnothing.
AphroditelikestoremindmethattheonlythingI’mgoodatishurtingpeople.Evenrecognizingtheblatantmanipulationforwhatitis…she’snotwrong.Idon’tknowhowtorunacorporationlikePerseus.Idon’tknowhowtocharmpeopleandputthemateaselikeHelen.Fuck,I’mnoteventhatgoodatbreakingandenteringlikeHermes.
NottomentionmorethanafewvictimsofAphrodite—ofme—havesufferedexile.IfIendupsharingtheirfate,Idon’tlikemyoddsoflastingayearwithoutoneofthemtrackingmedownandtakingtheirjustrevenge.
Bestnottothinkaboutthattooclosely.I’lltakecareofthetask,andthenI’llfindafewpartnersandlosemyselfinaweekoffuckinganddrinkingandanythingittakestonumbmeoutcompletely.JustlikeIalwayshave.
Withanothercurse,Ipickupmyphone.
Achirpyfemalevoiceanswers.“Eros,myfavoritelittlesexgod.It’smyluckyday.”
Normally,it’sdifficulttokeepasmileoffmyfacewhenI’mdealingwithHermes.She’sincorrigibleandtheonlyoneoftheThirteenwhosepresenceIactuallyenjoy.Idon’tfeelmuchlikesmilingtoday.“Hermes.”
Shegivesasigh.“Soit’sbusiness,then?”
“It’sbusiness,”Iconfirm.It’snotalwaysbusinesswithHermesandme.SheandIhavehookedupafewtimesovertheyearsbutultimatelysettledintosomethingresemblingfriendship.Idon’tnecessarilytrusther—hertitleispracticallyspymaster,afterall—butIlikeher.
“AllbusinessandnoplaymakesErosadullboy.”
“Wecan’tallspendourtimeplayingjesterinHades’scourt.”
Shelaughs.“Don’tbemadjustbecauseHadesbannedyoufromhissexdungeon.Youwouldhavedonethesamethinginhisposition.”
She’sright,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mabouttoadmitit.TheonlyreasonHadesletmecomeandgoacrosstheRiverStyxwithoutanissuewasthatwehadsomethingofamutuallybeneficialrelationship.HecontrolledtheinformationIreportedbacktomymother.Ienjoyedhishospitality.ThatallchangedwhenPersephoneenteredthescene.Sheexpandedhisallegiancefromhimselftohisnowwife—andhermother,Demeter.
SeeingashowDemeterandmymotherhateeachother,thatmeansI’mpersonanongratainthelowercitythesedays.WhenHadescutmeoff,hecutoffmymainoutlettoblowoffsteam.Notthatthatmattersnow,butHermesalwaysdidknowhowtofindaperson’sbuttons…andthendojumpingjacksonthem.“IhaveamessageI’dlikeyoutodeliver,butit’sdelicateinnature.”
Apause.“Okay,youhavemyattention.Stoptoyingwithmyemotionsandtellmewhatyou’reupto.”
IforceasmallsmileasIsketchoutwhatIneedfromher.Hermes’sroleintheThirteenisalittlebitmessenger,alittlebitspy,alittlebitagentofchaosforherownamusement.HeronlyrealallegianceistoDionysus,andeventhen,I’mnotsurethatfriendshipwouldholdifthingsgotreallyintense.He’snotmyaim,however,soIhavenodoubtshe’lldoexactlyasIrequest.
WhenIfinish,shegivesamerrylaugh.“Eros,youslyrake,you.I’llhavethemessagedeliveredbymorning.”ShehangsupbeforeIcanrespond.
Isitbackwithasighandrubmychest.Nomattermypersonalthoughtsonthis,thingsareinmotion.It’stoolatetogobackandchangethepast;IcanonlydowhatI’vealwaysdone—comeoutontop.
PsycheDimitriouwillbedeadbeforetheendoftheweek.4
Psyche
“Isweartothegods,ifMothergetsonemorepartyinvitation,I’mgoingtopullaZeusandthrowmyselfoutawindow.”
Ipauseinthemiddleofsortingthroughthedressesintherackinfrontofme.Noneofthemareright.They’reallprettyinapalesortofway,butthisdesignerhasanastyhabitofmerelyaddinginchestotheirplussizesinsteadofactuallytakingintoaccounthowdifferentmycurvesarefromasizetwo.Ihadheardthey’dgottenbetterwith
Thatirritationmatterslessthanwhatmysisterisspoutingoffbehindme,withineasyeavesdroppingrangeofeveryoneinthisshop.Thelastthingweneedismoreofascandal,especiallyrightnow.TherumorsaboutmeandEroshaveheldonlongerthanIexpected—it’sbeenaslownewsmonthinOlympusandthatwasatrulyexcellentphotographtogetthegossipmillchurning—buttheywillpass.Ortheywillpassaslongaswekeepourheadsdownandourmouthsshut.Eroshasallbutdisappearedfromthepubliceye;smartofhim.Idon’thavethatoption,sotheonlyotherrouteistogoonaboutmylifeasifI’mnotthesubjectofeveryone’sconjecture.
Today,thatmeansshopping.
Justmyluckthatmyeldestsisterisfeelingoverprotectiveanddecidedtotagalong.IturnaroundandlevelalookatCallisto.Asalways,she’sdressedinapseudogrungelookthatmakesherappearlikeamodelonherdayoff.Wesharethesamedarkbrownhairandhazeleyes,butCallisto’sbeautyissharpenoughtocutwhilemineisasoftervariation.She’sneverhadtodealwithMothertryingtogentlyguidehertotrysomenewdiet,butanyresentmentIfeltaboutourdifferencesisancienthistorynow.
Whatisn’tancienthistoryishowgodsdamnedrecklesssheis.
Imarchovertowhereshe’ssprawledonthewaitingareacouchandleanoverher.“Keepyourvoicedown.”
Callistonarrowshereyes.“Whatdoyoucareiftheselemmingshear?I’monlyspeakingthetruth.”
It’sbeenalittleovertwomonthssinceZeus’s“accidental”deathandOlympusisstillreeling.Makingajokeaboutitwillbeinpoortastetwentyyearsfromnow,butrightnowit’sagreatwaytoattractthekindofheadlinewedonotneedatthemoment.
DimitrioudaughtersmocktheformerZeus’sdeath!
OntheheelsoftheErosphotograph,Mothermightactuallyfollowthroughononeofhermanythreatstotossherfrustratingdaughtersoutthenearestwindow.I’msurePerseus—er,Zeus—wouldbedelightedbythat.We’reunderstrictinstructionstoavoidmakinghimangry,andCallistoseemstohavetakenthatasachallengetoseehowfarshecanpushthings.Normally,itwouldbeaminorirritation,butwe’reunderamuchheavierspotlightrightnow.Istillcan’tbelieveIwassofoolishastogetcaughtalonewithAphrodite’sson.I’vereceivednolessthanthreeofMother’slecturesaboutmyirresponsibilityandhowthiswillaffectmyprospectswithZeus.
HavingmynamestruckfromthelistofZeus’spotentialpartnersishardlyagreatlossinmyopinion,butI’msmartenoughnottosaythatoutloud.
Unlikemysister.
Ileandownfartherandlowermyvoice.“Youknoweveryoneiswatchingusrightnow.Stoptryingtostirthepot.”
Callistoliftsherbrows,completelyunrepentant.“Ifyou’dstopbabysittingme,I’ddosomethingtogetthefocusoffyou.Itwon’ttakemuch,andI’llevenenjoyit.”
“Callisto,no.”Herideaofhelpisusuallytheexactopposite.EventhoughIknowbetter,Ican’thelpbutask,“Whatwouldyouevendo?”
“Oh,Ihaven’tthoughtaboutittoohard.ProbablyshoveAphroditeintotraffic.MaybeI’llgetluckyandherassholesonwillbewithher.Atwo-for-onebargain.”
Ofcourse.Idon’tknowwhyIevenasked.“IfyoupissoffZeusandMother,I’mgoingtobetheonewhohastocleanupthemess.Pleasedon’t—formysake.”
Sheopenshermouthlikeshe’sgoingtosnarl,hesitates,andfinallycurses.“Okay,fine.I’llplaynice,butI’mseriousaboutnotwantingtoattendthenextparty.NowthatPersephone’sofflivingherhappilyweddedbliss,Motherdoesn’tletmemakeexcusesanymore.”
Idon’tpointoutthattherehavebeenseveralpartiessincePersephonemovedtothelowercity,andCallistoneverletMotherbullyherbefore.She’sdoingitforme,soIwon’thavetofacethevipersalone.Really,she’stheonlyonecapableofit.AfterhavingherheartbrokenbyOrpheus,EurydiceistoofragiletodealwiththebackstabbingoftheglitteringcrowdthatsurroundstheThirteen—andshewasn’tallthatgoodatitbefore.She’stoolikelytotakeeveryoneattheirwordandassumeinnocencewhilesurroundedbypeoplewholieaseasilyastheybreathe.
Callistodoesn’thavethatproblem.Thenagain,Callistoismuchmorelikelytostabsomeonewithasaladfork—orshovethemintotraffic,apparently.Theformerissomethingsheactuallydidatthepartybeforelast;itwasthereasonMotherrelentedandletherstayhomerecently.Thatremindsme…“HowisAres?Ihaven’tseenanythingonMuseWatchabouthim.”NowthatIthinkaboutit,Ihadn’tseenhimatthelastparty,either.
“I’msurehe’sfine.Itwasonlyasurfacewound.”Sheflicksherhairoffhershoulder.“Ifhehadn’tcalledPersephoneaficklew—”Shecurses.“Irefusetorepeatit.Ifhehadn’tcalledoursisterthat,itwouldn’tbeanissue.”
“It’sonlywords,andPersephonecouldcarelesswhatanyoneonthissideoftheriverthinksofher—familyexcluded,ofcourse.”
“Shedoesn’tcare,butIcare.”Callistoexaminesherfingernails.“Theymightfightwithwords,buteventuallythey’llfigureoutthatIdon’tstopthere.”
“Insultsandassaultaretwoverydifferentthings.”Though,honestly,Idon’tthinkMothersmoothedthisoneoverthewayshehaswithCallisto’s…missteps…inthepast.Ifshehad,wewouldhaveheardaboutit,butaftertheinitiallecture,itnevercameupagain.
“Arethey?”Sheshrugs.“Couldhavefooledme.”
There’snogettingthroughtoCallisto.ShemightconsenttoattendingtheendlesspartiesMotherisdraggingusto,butshe’llneverplaythegame.Istillhaven’tquitefiguredouthowshe’spulledthatoff,butit’ssomethingIcan’treplicate.“IfIgotryonafewdresses,willyoubehaveyourself?”
Sheshrugsasingleshoulder.“There’snooneinherethatpissesmeoff,sooddsaregood.”
They’donlystaygoodforaslongasthatremainedtrue.Istraighten.“There’sthislittlethingcalledself-control.Youshouldtryitsometime.Youmightevenliketheresults.”
Mysisterlaughs.Shemightbejustshyofvicioustoeveryoneoutsideourlittlefamilyunit,butshelaughslikeanangel—orasiren,moreaccurately.Icatchthesalesladypeeringwithinterestinourdirectionandbarelymanagetoresistrollingmyeyes.“I’llbequick.”
“Goodidea.”
Igrabthemostpromisingoptionsofftherackandheadbackintothechangingrooms.They’relargeenoughforseveralpeopletofitineachone,whichmakessensebecausesomanyoftheuppercrustofOlympiaseemtodressthemselvesbycommittee.MaybeIwould,too,ifanyofmysistersshowedanyinterestinfashion.CallistoignoresitandEurydicedressesinwhateverisavailable.Persephoneistheonlyonewhousedtoenjoyit,justalittle,butthoseshoppingtripswithherareinthepast.She’stoobusyrunninghalfthecitywithherhusbandnow.
Idon’tbegrudgePersephoneherhappiness.Itrulydon’t.ButImissher.HerinfrequenttripstothissideoftheRiverStyxareneverenough,andMotheralreadyhasanissuewithEurydicevisitingthelowercitysooften.IfIstarteddoingitaswell,herheadmightactuallyexplode.Especiallynow.
No,forbetterorworse,myoptionsarelimited.
Istripoutofmydressandtryonthefirstdress.AsIsuspected,it’saterriblefit.Itclingsinplacesit’snotmeanttoclingandisbaggythroughplacesitshouldn’tbebaggy.Isighandpeelthedisappointinggarmentoff.
“That’sgodsawful.IexpectedbetterofThalia.”
Ifreezeinthemiddleofhangingthedressup.Iknowthatvoice,butevenasItellmyselfit’snotpossible,IlookinthemirrorandmeetthegazeofHermes.She’sapetiteBlackwomanwithnaturalhairwhofavorsquirkywide-frameglassesandhasthegiftofmimicry.Todayherglassesarebrightredandshe’swearingpurpleglitteringpants,anorangehoodiewiththepictureofacatonthefrontofit,itseyesbuggingout,andredChucks.Isupposewhenyou’reoneoftheThirteen,youcandowhateveryouwantandpeoplejustacceptit.Thebenefitofpower.Hermes,inparticular,doesn’tseemtocarewhatanyonethinksofher.Sheappearstoenjoyshockingpeopleandchallengingtheirexpectations,whichwouldbeenoughtomakeherinterestingtome,butshe’soneoftheThirteen,soItrytosteerclear.
There’snosteeringclearnow.
Idon’ttrytocovermyself,don’tblush,don’treactinanywaythatwouldtellherI’mnonplussedbythisdevelopment.“Hello,Hermes.”
“Hi,Psyche.”Sheleansdownandstaresatmybreasts.“IsthataJuliettebra?It’sexquisite.AndI’mnotjustsayingthatbecauseyourtitsareaten.”
Istriveforpatience.Ihaven’tspentmuchtimeinteractingwithHermes,butthefewconversationswe’vehadfeltlikewalkingthroughaminefieldblindfolded.Persephonelikesher,butPersephonehasenoughpowernowthatshecanassociatewithmembersoftheThirteenwithoutworryingaboutbeingsteamrolled.I’mnotthatlucky.There’snogoodreasonforHermestobehere,butIhopeagainsthopethatit’smerelyhercuriositythatbroughtheraround,ratherthanherofficialduties.“WhatcanIhelpyouwith?”
“MaybeIjustshoweduptochat.”
Idon’tletoutasighofrelief.Notwhenshe’sgotthatmischievouslookinherdarkeyes.“Didyou?”
“Nope.”Shegrinsatthelookonmyface.“Okay,yes,fine,youcaughtme.It’sofficialbusiness.Ihaveamessageforyou.”
Damnit,that’swhatI’mafraidof.“Amessagethatcouldn’twaituntilI’mdressed.”
Sheshrugs.“Sorry,love.It’smarkedurgent.Youknowhowthesethingsare.”
Ido,butmostlyintheory.I’veveryintentionallydodgedtheworstpitfallstheuppercrustofOlympiahastooffer.Intheory,IpossessafractionofpowersincemymotherisDemeter,butthetruthisfarmorecomplicated.EvenwithintheThirteen,therearehierarchies.Thelegacytitles—Zeus,Hades,andPoseidon—standapart.Thestatusoftherestfluctuatesdependingontheyear,theseason,sometimeseventheweek.Senioritycountsforsomething,asdotheresponsibilitiesofcertaintitles—AreswithOlympus’spersonalarmy,forexample.Addinalliancesandfeudsandpettygrievances,andonewrongmovecanhavehalfofOlympusturningonyou.
WeallwatchedithappenwithHercules.AsamemberofZeus’sfamily,heshouldhavebeennearlyuntouchable,buthepushedtoohardtorevealtheseedyunderbellyoftheshininguppercity’spolitics.Everysingleoneofthemturnedonhimasaresult.TheofficialstoryisthatheleftOlympusofhisownpower,butsinceeveryone’safraidtoevenmentionhisnamenow,themessageiscrystalclear.
CrosstheThirteenandtheywillwipeyoufromexistence.
Ibitebackasigh.“Okay,let’shearthemessage.”
Hermesstraightensandclearsherthroat.Whenshespeaks,aman’svoiceemergesfromherlips.“Thismessisn’tgoingtoblowoveranytimesoon.There’sonlyonewaytokeepourmothersfromfeuding.MeetmetonightatErebus.Comealone.”
Iknowthatvoice.“Eros.”Whatishethinking?Thelastthingwecandoisriskbeingseentogether.ThepaparazzithatfuelMuseWatcharetoosavvytomissanopportunitylikethis,evenifwemeetsomewhereneitherofusnormallyfrequent.Beingcaughtinonechanceencounterisonething,buttwo?Itwillinciteaninfernoofgossip.
“Whywouldn’thejustcallmeifhewantstotalk?”
Hermesraisesherbrows.“Andriskyoudecidingtorecordtheconversationanduseitagainsthim?”
Shehasapoint,butstill…“There’snothingstoppingmefromdoingthatanyway.”
“Maybehe’llpatyoudown—inaverysexymanner.”Hermesbouncesonhertoes.“Youknow,Ihavetoask.Wereyoubanginginthebathroomatthepartytwoweeksago?”
“No.”MymindoffersuptheimageofEroswithbloodonhisshirt,hislowvoicesaying,It’sthebloodofthelastprettygirlwhoaskedtoomanyquestions.He’sAphrodite’sfixer.HasAphroditedecidedI’maprobleminneedoffixing?
No,thatdoesn’tmakesense.ThereareathousandwaystoburysomeoneinOlympuswithouteverhavingtophysicallyharmtheirbodyorputyourselfindirectcontactwiththem.EvenasDemeter’sdaughter,I’mhardlyuntouchable,butifEroswantedtofixme,hecoulddoit.Hecertainlycoulddoitwithoutpotentiallyimplicatinghimselfbymeetingmeinperson.
Igothroughthemotionsoftryingonthenextdress.It’sjustasbadasthefirst.Gods,Ihateitwhendesignersarelazy.FocusingonthatsmallirritationclearsmyheadenoughthatbythetimeIturntofaceHermesagain,I’mnolongerindangeroflosingcontrol.“Iassumeheneedsnoreply.”
“Nope.Yourreplyisshowinguptonight—ornot,asthecasemaybe.”
Ihavetoshowup.Idon’thaveachoice.He’srightaboutusneedingtotalkaboutthepictureandaplangoingforward.IfAphroditeisasfuriousaboutitasmymotheris,itmakessensetoensurethegossipsiteshavesomethingelsetofocusonsothattheyforgetallaboutusandourso-calledforbiddenromance.
Still…Wecan’taffordasecondpictureofus.ThelocationErosgaveisintheupperwarehousedistrict,aneighborhoodmostoftheThirteenavoid,whichmeansmostofthepaparazziavoiditaswell.Weshouldbeokay,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mabouttotakethatforgranted.
IconsiderHermes.Usingherservicesisarisk.She’sloyaltonoonebutherself—andmaybeDionysus—andthatmeansIcan’ttakethesecrecyofanymessageforgranted.There’snothingstoppingherfromstandingonsomekaraokestageandsingingoutthedirtylaundryofallthepeopleintheroom,whichissomethingIheardshedidaboutayearaftershetookoverasHermes.Noonetookherseriouslyuptothatpoint,butthateventensuredeveryonesawherforthethreatsheis.
Actually,thatgivesmeanidea…
“Hermes,wouldyoubewillingtoengageinalittlefriendlydeception?Inyourprofessionalcapacity,ofcourse.”
Hersmileiscrafty.“Youknow,youDimitriouwomenkeepsurprisingme.I’mwillingtodothisfriendlydeceptionforfreesinceyou’reentertainingme.”
Idon’tknowifthat’sbetterorworse,butI’mnotonetolookthegifthorseinthemouth.“Goouttonight.”
“Iwasalreadyplanningonit.DionysushassomeexcellentnewproductsthatI’mdyingtotry.”
Iignoretheinterruption.“Goouttonightandpostsomethingaboutit.Tagyourlocation.MakepeoplebelieveI’mwithyou.Thengivethemamerrychase.”There’snobetteralibithanoneoftheThirteen.Who’sgoingtocallHermesaliar?Noone.Atleastnottoherface.IfthepaparazziarebusychasingHermes,thinkingI’mwithher,theywon’tbesniffingaroundtheupperwarehousedistrict.ErosandIwillbeabletotalkinpeace.
“Consideritdone.”Sheshakesherhead.“Olympusisneverdullwithyouandyoursistersaround.”
“Icoulddowithalittlelessexcitement.”Idon’tmeantosayit,butoncethewordsareout,there’snotakingthemback.
Hermesheadsforthechangingroomdoor.“Chinup,Psyche.You’reasavvygirl.I’msureyou’llcomeoutontop.”Sheopensthedoorandtwiststolookatme.“Maybeyou’llevenendupcomingontopofEros.Forrealthistime.”She’sgonebeforeIcanformareply,herlaughtrailingbehindher.
It’sjustaswell.WhatamIsupposedtosaytothat?Erosmightbeasgorgeousasagod,butthatmanisamonsterrightdowntohiscore.He’smyenemy
I’mtemptedtocallPersephoneandgetheropiniononthiswholesituation,butifIloopherin,she’llbebargingthroughmydoorandthreateningErosbeforeIfinishthecall.BettertocallherinthemorningandupdateheronceIhearwhathehastosay.Maybewe’llevencomeupwithasolutionthatwillmakeeveryonehappy.
Theflutteringfeelinginmystomachisnerves,ofcourse.
I’mcertainlynotlookingforwardtoseeingErosagain.5
Eros
Iarriveatthemeetingspotoveranhourearlytoscopeouttheplace.Erebusisalittlehole-in-the-wallpubontheedgeoftheuppercitywarehousedistrict.WemightstillbeonthenorthsideoftheRiverStyx,butthisareaisadifferentworldfromthecarefullycuratedcentralcitywheremostoftheThirteenlive.ProximitytoZeus’splaceofbusiness,DodonaTower,isseenasapointofstatus,andeverystreetinthesurroundingblocksisacoldandcleancombinationofconcrete,steel,andglass.Uniformandattractiveenoughifyou’reintothatsortofthing.
Theareaaroundtheuppercitywarehousedistrictiswherepeoplegoforalittleillicitfunwhentheydon’thavethestrengthortheballstocrosstherivertothelowercity.HereiswhereDionysusrules,andthere’splentyofvicetogoaround.Peoplealsotendtolooktheotherwayandmindtheirownbusinesswhenthey’reinthearea,whichsuitsmypurposes.
Ihavetoplaythiscarefully.Thisbarissmall,butit’sbeenbuiltintothespacebetweentwobuildingssoithaslotsofnooksandcranniesfilledwithshadowytables.Ihaveonestakedoutneartheback,andI’vetippedthebartenderwelltolooktheotherwayduringwhatcomesnext.
Nomatterwhatthistaskentailsorwhatmymotherwants,IhavenodesiretomakePsycheactuallysuffer.I’msureAphroditewouldlikemetodragherintoanalleyandgettoworkwithadullknife,butallPsychewillfeelisasleepinessandthennothingatall.
It’sthebareminimumshedeserves.
Isitbackandrubmyhandovermychest.Nowisnotthetimefordoubtsorguiltoranyofthatbullshit.I’vedoneworsetonicerpeople,allbecausetheygotinmymother’swayorshedecidedtheywerethreateningherposition.Thepublicmightthinkmurderisthegreaterevil,buttheyhaven’tseenayoungup-and-comingpersonhaveeverythingstrippedaway.Theirbeauty,theirstatus,therespectoftheirpeers.It’ssofuckingeasytodismantlesomeone’slifeifyouhavetherightinformation,therightresources.
Allthatbeingsaid,notevenIcanconvincemyselfthatkillingPsycheisamercy.
Itneverusedtobelikethis.Ionlywentafterpeoplewhodeservedit,peoplewhoactivelythreatenedmymother.Iwasahunterofmonsters,ofpeoplewhointendedtoharmtheonlyfamilyIhaveinthisworld.UntilonedayIlookedupandrealizedI’mthebiggestmonsterofall.I’dsacrificedtoomuch,haderasedtoomanylinesformoralityto
Therewasnogoingback.
Thereisnogoingback.
IsensethemomentPsychewalksintothebar.Thefewpatronsgosilentandwatchful.Nomatterthatshe’sdresseddowninapairofjeansandablackcoatthatcovershertotheknees,she’sbeautifulenoughtostoptraffic.Shemovesthroughthebarslowly,surveyingeachtablebeforethosehazeleyesfinallylandonme.
It’sagoodthingshe’sstillafairdistanceawaybecauseIsuckinabreathatbeingthesolefocusofthiswoman.Iwastoodistractedthenightofthepartytoproperlyappreciatehersheerpresence.Eveninpainandpissedthefuckoff,I’dstillenjoyedthewayhergraydresshuggedhergenerousfigureandgaveatantalizingglimpseofherlargebreastsandass.Especiallywhensheleanedovermetochangemybandages.
Focus.
Shecrossestomyboothandslipsintotheseatacrossfrommewithouthesitation.Despitemyself,Ilikethatshe’snotcoweringorflinching.Shewalkedinherewithconfidence,andIgetthefeelingthatsheapproacheseverysituationthesameway.It’stoodamnbadshecan’tbrazenherwaythroughtonight.“Psyche.”
“Eros.”Sheconsidersmeforalongmoment.IsshecomparingandcontrastinghowIlooknowversusthelasttimewespoke?Theonlytime,really,asidefromahandfulofgreetingsovertheyearsatvariousparties.EvenaschildrenoftheThirteen,wehardlymoveinthesamecircles.TheDimitriouwomenholdthemselvesapart.AnotherthingaboutthemthatdrivesAphroditeupthewall.
Psycheleansbackslowly.“Mostpeoplesendanemailwhentheywanttomeetme.You’reefficientenoughtohavefiguredoutmyphonenumber.WhybotherwithHermes?”
Becauseanemailcanbehackedandaphonecanbetraced.NomatterwhateveryonebelievesaboutHermes,shetakeshertitleandherroleseriously.Ifamessageismeanttobesecret,itstaysthatway.Noteventhelegacytitlescancompelhertoshareamessage.
IfPsycheismurdered,Iwantnothingtracingitbacktome.
If?WhatthefuckamItalkingaboutif?Herfatewassealedthemomentmymotherdemandedherheart.No,beforethat,whensheshowedmekindnessdespitethefactthatanyoneelseinthatpartywouldhaveturnedaway.Evenmyfriendswouldhavepretendednottonoticethebloodorthelimp.WealloperateunderthecarefullybalancedliethatIamnothingmorethanAphrodite’splayboyson.Alittletoofreewithhischarms,alittletoohardtopindowninanythingresemblingcommitment.
NoonetalksaboutwhatelseIdoformyfamily.
Orwhopaystheprice.
Thereisnoroomfordoubtaboutthepricetobepaidtonight.Theonlywayforwardisthrough.It’snotlikeIhaven’tdoneworse.Myhandsarecoveredinthebloodofmymother’senemies,bothrealandimagined.I’velongsincemademypeacewiththefactthatI’llnevergetthemclean.I’mnolongerparticularlyinclinedtofightthatuphillbattleforsainthood.It’sTartarusforme.
Ileanforwardandpropmyelbowsonthetable.“I’msureHermesalreadytoldyouthis,butI’dprefertohavethisconversationinperson.”
“Shementionedit.”Psycheshrugsoutofhercoat,revealingathinblacksweaterthathugshertitstoperfection.“How’syourchest?”
Iblink.“What?”
“Yourchest.Theonethatwascoveredincutstwoweeksago.”Shenodsatme.“Didyoumanagetofindadoctor?”
MyhandgoestomychestbeforeIcanstoptheimpulse.“Yeah.Itwasn’tasbadasitlooked.”
“Luckyyou.”
“Sure.Lucky.”Itwasasloppymistakeonmypart.IfIhadn’tbeenrushingthejobtomakeittothepartyontime,IneverwouldhaveloweredmyguardenoughtoletPolyphonte’sfathergetthatmanystrikesin.“Butthen,Iwalkedawayfromthatfight.Noteveryonedid.”
Psychetakesaslowbreath.“Likeaprettygirlwhoaskedtoomanyquestions?”
Right.Ididsaythattoher,didn’tI?Idon’tbothertosmile.“MymothertakesexceptiontoalotofprettygirlsinOlympus.”Prettypeople,really.Gendermatterslessthanbeautyandattention,andAphroditewantsthelion’sshareofbothforherself.
“Whowasit?”
“Knowingwon’tmakeadifference.”
Psychegivesmeasadlittlesmile.“Indulgeme.”
ImeantitwhenIsaidknowingwouldn’tmakeadifference.Itwon’tsaveher.Itwon’tchangewhathappensheretonight.“Polyphonte.”
Shefrowns.“Idon’tknowthatname.”
“Noreasonforyouto.”Polyphontehadn’tclimbedthesocialladderhighenoughtoattendDodonaTowerparties.Fuck,shehadn’tclimbedhighenoughtodomorethanendangerherself.ThelittlefoolthoughtshecouldtakeonAphroditewithoutconsequences.Evenifshehadn’tcrossedmymother,shewouldhavesentsomeoneelseimportantintoamurderousragewithinamonth.Shehadtoobigamouthandtoolittlecaution.
“Eros…”Sheshakesherhead,herexpressionturninginward.“Nevermind.Isupposeitdoesn’tmatter.”
Isuddenlydesperatelywanttoknowwhatshealmostsaid.Wasshegoingtomentionthewayshecaughtmestaringathermouth?She’dbittenherlipinresponsetothatlook.Idon’tthinksheevenrealizedshedidit.JustlikeIdon’tthinksherealizedsheglancedatmymouthforseverallongsecondsbeforesheshookoffthemoment.Ifwewereanyoneelse,inanyothersituation,Imighthavekissedherthen.
Imighthavepulledherdownontomylapandcoaxedallthewarinessrightoutofher.Firstwithakiss,andthenaslowseductionthatwebothwouldhaveenjoyedentirelytoomuch.
Ishakemyhead.WhatthefuckamIthinking?EvenifIhadcrossedthatline,itwouldjustmakethissituationthatmuchworseforbothofus.“You’reright.Itreallydoesn’tmatter.”
“LikeIsaid.”Sheclearsherthroatandstraightens.“Okay,let’sgetdowntobusiness.Youwantedtomeettotalkabouthowtoguidethemediaattentionawayfromus.Well,awayfromyouspecifically.I’msureAphroditeisn’thappyaboutthewholesituation,andyou’renotexactlyaspracticedatdealingwiththisstuffasIam.Ihaveafewideas.”
Iblink.“Excuseme?”
“Thatiswhywe’remeeting,isn’tit?”
ImightfuckingkillHermesforputtingthatthoughtintoherhead.ItoldthewomantogetPsychehere,nomatterwhatshehadtosay,butIdidn’texpecthertousePsyche’sowngoodnatureagainsther.Mystomachdrops.“YoushowedupherebecauseyouthinkIneedyourhelptomanipulatethemediaintochasingaftersomeoneelse.”AsifIhaven’tdonethatverythingonmyownbefore.
Thelittlefoolrushedhere,threwherselfrightintomytrapwithoutasecondthought,becauseshebelievedIneededherhelp.
IthinkI’mgoingtobesick.
Psychegoesstill.“Isn’tthatwhywe’remeeting?”
“No,”Isayalmostgently.Gods,Ihatemyselfrightnow.“That’snotwhywe’remeeting.”
Sheclearsherthroat.“You’rehereinyourofficialcapacity,then.”
“Yeah.”Thewordcomesoutlikeanapology.
Abeatofsilence.Another.Shedrawsherselfup.“Surelyshecan’tbethatfuriousaboutasinglephotograph?”
“Actually—”
PsychecontinuesasifIhaven’tspoken.“Thenagain,Isupposeit’snotthatsimple.Sheandmymotherhavebeenfeudingforadecade,andshewon’tlikethatDemeterissteppingonhertoes.Thewhydoesn’tmatter.Thebottomlineisshe’sgotnothingtoruinmewith.Ihavenoskeletonsinmycloset.Whichmeansshe’llmakesomeup.”Shefoldsherarmsonthetablebeneathherbreasts.“Sowhat’sontheagenda?Willyoufabricatesomeseedysexscandal?Maybeevenattempttoexileme,thoughgoodluckwiththat.Mymotherwon’tstandforit.”
She’sobviouslynottakingthisseriously,andIsuddenlyneedhertobe.Idon’tknowwhy.Myjobwouldbesignificantlyeasierifshethoughtthiswasn’tliterallylifeordeath.AndyetIfindmyselftellingherthetruth.“Aphroditedoesn’twantyouruined.Shewantsyoudead.”
Psychegoespale.
Iexpecttears.Begging.Maybeevenforhertotrytorun.Shedoesnoneofthosethings.Aftertakingamomenttocollectherself,shemerelysquareshershouldersandholdsmygaze.“Eros,youstrikemeasanot-unintelligentman.”
“Thanks,”Isaydrily.Experiencehadgivenmeamapofhowthisconversationwouldgo,andPsychehasn’tperformedtoexpectationsatall.Againstmybetterjudgment,asliverofcuriositywedgesitselfthroughmydeterminationtoseethisthrough.IknewshewasdifferentfromanyoneI’vedealtwithpreviously.Isuspectedshewasformidable,butshe’sevenmorethanIcouldhaveguessed.
“YoumustrealizewhoIhaveinmycorner.Ifyoudosomethingtome,Persephonewillripyouintoamillionpieces,andHadeswillstandbytoensurenoonestopsherfromdoingit.”Sheleansforward,andIcan’thelpglancingatwhereherimpressivecleavagepressesagainsttheVofhersweater.“That’snotevengettingintowhatmymotherwilldo.UnlikeAphrodite,Demeterhasnoproblemgettingherhandsdirtywhenthesituationcallsforit.”
“AreyousayingyourmothermurderedthelastZeus?”
“Ofcoursenot.”Shesnorts.“That’sanunsubstantiatedrumorandyouknowit.Let’snotpretendyourmotherwouldn’thavepouncedonthestoryandrunwithitifshehadevenashredofevidence.”
She’snotwrong.Still,Ifinditinterestingthatshedidn’tflatoutsayDemeterisinnocent.TheofficialstorymightbethatZeussomehowaccidentallybrokethewindowinhisofficeandaccidentallyfelltohisdeath,buteveryoneknowsit’sfiction.
Noneofthatmatters,though.
Thisisquicklyspiralingoutofcontrol.“Psyche—”
“I’mnotfinished.”SheeyesthedrinkIorderedforher,theonecontainingthesedativethatwillknockheroutandensureshefeelsnopain.“There’soneadditionalelementthatyouneedtoconsiderbeforewegoanyfurther.MymotherisarrangingamarriagebetweenmeandZeus.Ican’timaginehe’llthankyouforkillingthefutureHera.”
Understandingdawns,bringingwithitfrustrationhotenoughtoburnmetoash.“Ifthatweresettled,thiswouldalreadybesquashed.”NotevenAphroditewoulddaregoafterthefutureHera.
“Maybe,butit’sstillaverylargerisktotake.AsIsaidbefore,youstrikemeasasmartman,soyoumusthaveconsideredthisalready.”
That’squitethebackhandedcompliment.Againstmybetterjudgment,admirationsnakesitswaythroughme.Shecameinhereexpectingonething,butshe’spivotedwithbarelyanyhesitationatallandiswellonherwaytooutmaneuveringme.“IfIhadn’t,Iwouldn’tbeallthatsmart,wouldI?”
“Exactly.”Psychetiltsherheadtotheside.“Withallthatsaid,Ihaveaquestionforyou.”
Isitbackwithacurseandwavemyhand.“Byallmeans,don’tletmestopyourbrilliantmonologue.”
“Thankyou.”Shegivesmeasmallsmilethatalmostcombatsthefearlurkinginherhazeleyes.Ihadalotofassumptionsaboutthiswomanwhenherfamilyfirstappearedonthescenetenyearsago,andthoseassumptionsonlyseemedtobeconfirmedintheinterveningyears.Betweenherhelpingmeatthepartyandthisconversation,I’mforcedtoadmitthatImighthavebeendeadwrong
She’snotavapidsocialinfluencerwhoseonlyhobbiesincludespendinghermother’smoneyandtakingprettypicturesforherfollowers.There’sacunningbraininthatprettyhead,andshe’susingeverybitofherintelligenceinanattempttogetoutofthissituationalive.
Psychetucksastrandofherdarkhairbehindherear.“IfstabilityissoimportantthatDemeter,Hades,andevenZeusareallinvestedinseeingithappen,doyoureallythinkthatthey’llstandbackandletyourmother’spettyfeudgounchecked?Theymightbewillingtolooktheotherwaywhenhertargetsareoutsidetheirimmediatecircle,butIamnotsomepoorsocialitewhonoonehaseverheardof.I’mDemeter’sdaughter.Ifyouharmme,theywilltakeaction.They’llcrushher,andyouwithher.”
She’snotwrong.WhenthemajorityoftheThirteengetonboardandagreewithoneanother,they’renearlyanunstoppableforce.It’stoodamnbaditwon’tmakeadifferenceforthewomansittingacrossfromme.“Cutestory.Evenifit’strue,itwon’tmatter.”
Atthat,hersmiledies.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Ijustnamedagoodnumberofthemajorplayersinthiscity,andIimaginePoseidonwillthrowhissupportbehindthemaswellsinceheseemstohateallthejockeyingforposition.That’sallthreeofthelegacytitles.Surelyyourmotherissmartenoughtoknowwhenshe’sbeenoutmaneuveredyouare.Nologicalpersonwouldcontinuedownthispathagainsttheseodds.”
Ibitebackasigh.That’sthecruxofit,isn’tit?“Boldofyoutoassumemymotherandlogichaveeverbeenonspeakingterms.Doyouknowheratall?”
Sheopenshermouth,seemstoreconsiderwhatevershewasabouttosay,andfinallyfrownsharder.“Ithoughtthepetty,vengefulthingwasanact.”
Mylifewouldbesomuchsimplerifitwere,ifmymotherdidn’tlivetoseethedownfallofanyonewhocrossesher,eveninpassing.“She’smorethancapableofdealingwiththefallout.”Onewayoranother.Idon’tknowhowshe’llmanageit,butIalreadyknowwhatshe’dsayifIbroughtthistoher.
Yourjobisn’ttothink,Son;it’stopunishwhoItellyoutopunish.
KillthegirlandcarveoutDemeter’sheartintheprocess
Psychegoesevenpaler.“Youreallymeanthat.”
“Ido.”
“IjustcamehereandtoldyouthatIcanmarshalagoodnumberoftheThirteenagainstyou,anditdoesn’tmatterhowmanymovesImakebecausethepersongivingyouorderscaresmoreaboutherpersonalvengeancethanshedoesaboutherson’slife.”Shestaresupatme,searchingmyfaceforsomethingthatshe’llneverfind.“She’sthereasonyouwerehurryingtotheparty,isn’tshe?Thatyoudidn’tgotoadoctorfirst?Ibetshewasfuriousyouwerelate.”
Psyche’shittingalittletooclosetothetruth.“Itdoesn’tmatter.”
“Ofcourseitmatters.Youwerehurt.Evenmymother,withallhermachinationsandruthlessness,wouldcareifoneofuswereinjured.”
Igiveherthelookthatstatementdeserves.“Iwouldsaythatsupportsmypoint,notyours.Butitdoesn’tmatter,becausenoonewillpinthisonme.Youmadesureofthat.”Ipullmyphoneout,findtheappIwant,andopenit.ThenIsetitonthetablebetweenus.Psycheleansoverandscrollsthroughafewposts,goingpalerandpaler.Ialreadyknowwhatshe’llsee.HermesandDionysusandacurvybrunetteapparentlyhavingthetimeoftheirlivesonthetown.Thebrunette’sfaceisneverquiteinthepicture,butshe’scloseenoughtoPsyche’sbodytypeandhairstylethateveryonewillbelieveit’sher.“Thesephotosarealltaggedandtimestamped.Nooneevenknowsyou’rehere.”
“Hermesdoes.”
“Hermesisplayingherowngame.She’snotonyourside.She’snotonanyone’ssidebutherown.”Ireclaimmyphone.“Andshewon’tcomeforwardwiththetruthfortheveryreasonsyoujustlisted.She’sasinvestedinstabilityasZeusandtherest.Shewon’tgiveupanyinformationthatwillstartawar.”HermesischaoticenoughthatnormallyIwouldn’tpretendIcouldguesswhichwayshe’djump,butIknowthisisthetruth.
Ultimately,sheservesOlympusjustliketherestoftheThirteen.
Psyche’sbottomlipquiversalittle,butshemakesablatantattempttofirmit.“Youdeservebetterthantosimplybeyourmother’sweapon,Eros.”
“Don’tbothertryingtoappealtomyhumanity.Ihavenone.”
Sheleansforwardandlowershervoice,hazeleyespleading.“Ihelpedyoutwoweeksago.Ididn’thavetoandwebothknowit.Maybeyoudon’thavehumanity,butsurelyyoubelieveinthescalesbeingbalanced.Areyoureallywillingtorepaymyhelpwithviolencesimplybecauseitmadeyourmothermad?”
“Psyche.”Damnit,Ishouldn’thavesaidhername.Itfeelstoogoodtodoit,makesmewantthingsnotmeantforme.“Stop.Nothingyousaywillmakeadifference.”
Forthefirsttimesinceshesatdown,truefearcomestolifeinhereyes.Shecameherereadytohelpthesonofhermother’senemyandpivotedintoatrulyspectacularargumentthatwouldhaveworkedifIwereanyoneelse,ifshehadn’talreadybeentheinstrumentofherdownfallbecauseshetrustedmeenoughtocreateanalibiforherlocation
Solongsincesomeoneshowedmeevenashredofkindness.
Ifindmyselfreachingoutandcoveringoneofherhandswithmyown.Herskinisstartlinglywarm.“Forwhatit’sworth,itwasagoodtry.Yougaveityourbestshot.”
“Strangehowthatdoesn’tmakemefeelbetter.”ShestaresdownatwhereItouchher.“I’mgoingtoneedyoutotakeyourhandbacknow.Ihardlywantcomfortfrommymurderer.”
SomethingpricksmeandIremovemyhandfromhersanduseittorubmychest,thefeelingfrombeforewhenshepatchedmeupgettingstronger.Whatthefuckisthis?SurelyI’mnothavinganattackofconsciencenow.Ican’tsavethiswoman.Imightbemymother’spreferredweapon,butI’mhardlytheonlyone.IfIrefusetodothis,she’llsendsomeoneelse,andtheywon’tcareifPsycheisterrifiedandinagonyattheend.They’llsimplycutherdown.
“IsthiswhatyoudidwithPolyphonte?Metherfordrinksandthentookheroutbackandkilledher?Iguesskudostoherforputtingupafight,butobviouslyshewasn’tsuccessful.Howmanytimeshaveyoudonethis,Eros?Isthatreallythelifeyouwant?”
“Stop.”ThewordcomesoutharsherthanIintendit,butIknowwhatshe’sdoinganditwon’twork.Ididn’tintentionallyputmyselfonthepathtobecomemymother’spetmonster,butI’mherenowandthere’snogoingback.“ImeantwhatIsaidbefore.Youcan’ttalkyourwayoutofthis.”
Sherunsherfingersthroughtheendsofherhair,twistingitinawaythatlooksalmostpainful,butherexpressioniseerilycalm.“Iwantedkids.Thatseemssofoolishnow.WhywouldIwanttobringkidsintothisworld?ButIdid.IthoughtIhadmoretime.I’monlytwenty-three.”
Fuck.“Stop,”Irepeat.
“Why?”Somethingsharpandangrybreaksthroughthecalm.“Doesitmakemeseemmorehumantoyou?Hardertopullthetrigger?”
Yes.Anditwasalreadyaherculeaneffortbefore.“Itdoesn’tmatterwhatIwant.”Idon’tmeantosaythat,butIhaven’tmeanttosayalotofthingswhenitcomestothiswoman.She’ssofuckingbrave,anditjustkillsmethatI’vebeenorderedtosnuffoutthislight.Butthere’snootheroption.
Unlessthereactuallyisawaytorepayherearlierkindness…
No.It’saterribleidea,andhardlyfoolproof.Mymotherislikeaterrierwithabonewhenitcomestohervendettas.Shewon’tletanythinggetinthewayofpunishingbothPsycheandDemeterbyremovingPsyche.IfItrytostandinherway,she’lljustgoaroundmeandkillPsycheanyway.
“Promisemethatyouwon’thurtmysisters.”
Idragmyselfoutofmytraitorousthoughtsandstareather.“YouknowIcan’tdothat.”Whenshenarrowshereyes,Irelent.“Look,Persephoneisassafeaspossiblebecauseshe’smarriedtoHades,andnoonewantstheboogeymanofOlympusshowingupontheirdoorstep.Callistoislikelysafeforasimilarreason—noonewantstofuckwithherkindofviciousness.Shedoesn’tplaybytheestablishedrules,andthat’senoughtomakemostenemiesthinktwice.AndEurydice…”Ishrug.“Allshehastodoishaveaprolongedstayinthelowercityandfewpeoplecanevengettoher.It’snotlikeHadesorPersephonearegoingtoinvitemymother’speopleovertherivertoharmher.”
“Isallthissupposedtomakemefeelbetter?Youcouldjustpromisenottohurtthem.”
Igiveherthelookthatstatementdeserves.“Youwouldn’tbelieveme.”
“Youcouldgivemeyourword.”
Iknowshe’sstilltryingtomakeherselfmorehumantome,toprickmynonexistentconscience,butwhen’sthelasttimesomeoneactuallygaveadamnaboutmyword?Mymother’staskshavedraggedmynamethroughthemud,deservedthoughthatmaybe.Noonetrustsme,becauseallittakesispissingAphroditeoffandherwilloverridesmine.Shepoints,Itakecareofthings.Myworddoesn’tmeanafuckingthing.
Maybethat’swhyIfindmyselfasking,“IfIgaveyoumyword,wouldyoubelieveme?”
“Yes.”
Thewordfeelslikeshereachedacrossthetableandpunchedmeinthechest.Thereisn’tashredofdoubtinthosethreeletters.IfIgavemyword,shewouldbelieveme;it’sassimpleasthat.Istareatthiswomanwhodefiesallmyexpectations.Ihadhalfconvincedmyselfthathertakingcareofmethatnightwasaflukeoratleastsomething
Psychereallyisagoodpersonwho’ssomehowmanagedtosurviveOlympuspolitics.
Andmymotherwantsmetoextinguishherflame.
Iswallowhard.“Seriously?”
“Yes,”Psycherepeats.Shestopstwistingherhairandgivesmeherfullattention.“Areyougivingyourword?”
Ishakemyheadslowly.“Ican’tpromiseyouanything.”
“Oh.”Thedisappointmentonherprettyfacecutsthroughmelikeaknife.Iamnotagoodperson.Ineverhadachancetobeone,andit’snotlikeIfoughtmyfateallthathardoncethepathunfurledbeneathmyfeet.ButkillingPsyche?Theideaofitmademeuncomfortablebefore,butafterthisconversation,itmakesmephysicallyill.
I…can’tdothis.
MaybeIdohaveasoul,dustyandunusedthoughitis,becausethethoughtofendingPsyche’slifefeelssofuckingrepellenttome,I’mabouttodosomethingunforgivable.Itakeadrinkofmyvodkatonic,theburningofthealcoholdoingnothingtoclearawaythesuddendeterminationtakingrootinsideme.
Awildplantakesroot,onerecklessintheextreme.Defyingmymotherisarisk,butit’soneI’mwillingtotake.Psychehasalreadyriskedherselfformetwice.SurelyIcanmeetherhalfway?I’mnotgoodlikesheis,though.It’snotkindnessthathasmespeaking.It’spureselfishwant.“Theremightbeanotherway.”6
Psyche
ItseemsaparticularlycrueltwistoffatethatgaveErosAmbrosiathefaceofagoldengodandnohearttospeakof.Hesitsthere,somehowfindingthesinglebeamoflightinthisdarkholeofaplace,andlooksatmewithnothinginhispale-blueeyes.Noguilt.Nosympathy.Notevenanticipationforwhatcomesnext.There’snobloodlustthere,either—justacertainsortofwearinessasifhe’salreadytiredofthissonganddanceandjustwantstogetthewholethingoverwithsohecangohomeandgotobed.
He’swearingnearlythesameexpressionhewaswhenhethankedmeforhelpinghim.
Irefusetohopehe’sactuallyofferingmeawayout,butI’mapproachingadesperationthatmakesmefoolish.IthoughtIwassoincrediblyclever,creatingthatfalsetimelinewithHermessothatErosandIcouldplottogether.WhatwasIthinking?ThefirstthingIshouldhavedonewasgotoPersephone.JustbecauseEroswasn’tatotalmonstertometwoweeksagodoesn’tmeanhe’ssafe.
IfIhadknownIwasindanger,IwouldhavefledtothelowercityandtakenwhatprotectionHadesandPersephonehavetooffer.Itwouldonlybeatemporarysolution,butatleastmylifewouldbeextendedpasttonight.Thatextratimewouldhavegivenmetheopportunitytothinkmywayoutofthismess,preferablywithoutgettingmymotherinvolved.
IfshefindsoutthatAphroditeessentiallytookahitoutonme,she’llgoafterthewomanwitheverythinginherarsenal.Andmymotherhasmanythingsinherarsenal.ShemightnothavekilledtheoldZeusherself,butshecertainlysetupthesequenceofeventsthatendedinhisdeath.She’salsothesolereasonthathisdeathwasruledanaccidentinsteadofmurder.ShehelpedpavethewayforHadeshimselftoreentersociety.ShehassomekindofdirtonPoseidonthatensureshebacksheratleasthalfofthetime.Butevenwithallthatpoweratherdisposal,shewillthrowcautiontothewindandmightdosomethingtrulyfoolishliketryingtorunAphroditeoverwithhercar.Somethingwithnoplausibledeniability
IfIhadknown…
Butthen,itdoesn’tmatter.Playingwhat-ifisarecipefordisaster.Imadeamistake.JustbecauseIdidn’tknowthecostdoesn’tmeanI’mexemptfrompayingit.
Erosiswatchingmesoclosely,IalmostforgetmyselfandtakeasipofthedrinkthatwaswaitingformewhenIgottothetable.KnowingwhatIdonow,it’sdefinitelypoisoned,thoughwhetherit’salethaldoseorjustsomethingmeanttoincapacitateisupfordebate
“Theremightbeanotherway,”hesaysagain,asifreassuringbothofus.
Aftereverythinghe’ssaid,suddenlyhe’sofferingmeanalternateoption.Why?Isthisanotherwaytotormentme?Iwanttoscreaminhisface,tothrowthispoisoneddrinkathimandwatchitdripdownhisperfectfeatures.MaybeI’llgetluckyanditwillburnhisskin,distractinghimlongenoughformetorun.
Iglancearoundthebar.It’sevendimmerthanwhenIarrived,andpeoplehavebeguntofilterin.ThisplaceisasfarfromtheshiningstreetsaroundDodonaTowerasapersoncangetandstayintheuppercity.It’salsoinanareaI’mnotoverlyfamiliarwith.It’sentirelypossiblethatallofthesepeopleareonEros’spayroll—Aphrodite’spayroll—andthemomentItrytoflee,they’llcatchmeandhaulmebacktohim.
No,Iamoutofoptionsandwebothknowit.Itrytoswallowdownthepanicmakingitdifficulttothink.“Whatotherway?”
“You’renotgoingtolikeit.”
HesaysitsoflatlythatIhavetolaugh.“Right.BecauseIliketheideaofbeingmurderedsomuchmore.”
Finally,heseemstosteelhimselfandsays,“Marryme.”
Iblink.Thetwosoftwordsdon’tmorphintoasentencethatmakessense.Ifanything,thelongertheystandbetweenus,thelesscomprehensibletheyare.“I’msorry,Imisheardyou.Icouldhaveswornyoujustsaid‘marryme.’”
“BecauseIdid.”There’sstillnoemotioninhiseyes,noreactiontoindicatewhathe’sthinking.I’musedtobeingabletoatleastpickupsomethingfromthepeoplearoundme.Eventhebestliarshavetells,andI’vespentenoughtimedriftingthroughOlympianpartiestopickuponmostofthemajorplayers’overtheyears.It’samatterofsurvivalandI’mverygoodatit.IknowthatAresscratchesathisbeardwhenhewantstothrottlesomeone.IknowthatPerseus—Zeus—getscolderwhenhe’sbuyingtimetorespond.EventhelastZeus,whilenottransparent,gotlouderandmoreboisterouslyhappywhenhewasfurious.
Erosgivesmenothing.
Icatchmyselfreachingforthedrinkoutofinstinctandpushtheglasstothefarsideofthetable.“That’snotfunny.”
“Who’slaughing?”Hesighsasifalreadytiredofthisconversation.“Thereareconsequencesforfailingmymother,andI’mnotwillingtobearthem.Ican’twalkawaywithouteitherkillingyouormarryingyou.”
Ahystericalgiggleescapes,andIgrabhisdrinkanddownit.Vodkatonic.Ofcourseitis.Ishudder.“That’sridiculous.Whyarethosetheonlytwooptions?Ifyoudon’twanttokillme,surelythere’ssomethingelseyoucando.”
“There’snot.”WhenIjuststareathim,herollshisshouldersalittle.“Look,ifImarryyou,thattiesmetoDemeterasmuchasittiesyoutoAphrodite.Shewon’tbeabletoexilemewithoutcausingastir,andifyousuddenlyturnupdead,there’snoplausibledeniabilitythere.Ifwemakeitbelievable,everyonewillassumethatit’salovematchbetweentworivals’children.Asthelasttwoweekshavemorethanproven,themedialovesthatRomeoandJulietshit.”
“You’renotexactlyconvincingmewiththatcomparison.RomeoandJulietbothdied.”
“Semantics.YouknowI’mright.”
IrubmythroatwhereIcanstillfeeltheburnofthealcoholandtrytothinkmywaythroughthis.MarriagesofconveniencearehardlyunknowninOlympus,especiallyamongthefamiliesoftheThirteen.Everyoneisconstantlyjockeyingforpower,oftenintheformofalliances,andusingamarriagetosealanallianceisanancientpractice.It’sjust…Evenwithmymother’sobviousmachinations,IhonestlythoughtIwouldavoidbeingmarriedtosomeonewhoactivelywantstoharmme.It’sthelowestbarpossible,buthereweare.
“You’reserious?”Ifinallyask.
“Yes.”
There’snoreasonforthistobeanelaboratetrap.Healreadyhasmeintheupperwarehousedistrict,andfromthelookofthestreetsaroundhere,thereareplentyofalleysforhimtodropmydeadbodyinwithnoonethewiser.Ipavedthewayforthattohappenwithoutconsequences,andIhavenoonetoblameformynaivetybutmyself.
No,theonlythingthatmakessenseisthatErosisactuallyofferingtomarryme.He’sright,inaway;ifweplayedthingscorrectly,we’dbeuntouchable.There’slittleOlympuslovesmorethangossip.AsecretmarriagebetweenErosandmewouldsendthemintoafrenzy,practicallycrawlingoveroneanothertoensurethey’rethefirsttogetanexclusivescoop.Thebuzzstillgoingonaboutthatsinglephotoismorethanproofofthat.Fromthere,it’schild’splaytogetpeopleonourside,rootingforustogothedistance.Ifsomeoneharmedeitherofusatthatpoint,OlympuswouldhaveariotonitshandsandnoteventheThirteencouldquellit.They’dbeforcedtoanswersomeuncomfortablequestionsaboutwhathappensoutofthesightofthepublic,andnoonewantsthat.
EvenAphrodite.
So,yes,theplanmightwork.There’sjustoneglaringissue.IpressmylipstogetherandconsiderEros.He’sattractive,yes,butthere’sanauraofdangerthatevenhisflawlesslookscan’tdispel.“Noonewouldbelievethatyou’velostyourheadandmarriedanyoneinawhirlwindaffair.You’retoocold.Youdon’tplaythegamewiththemedia,andtheyresentyouforit.”
“Idon’tplaythegamebecauseitboresme,notbecauseI’mincapable.”
He’sconfidentenoughthatIalmostbelievehim,butthiscouldbackfirehalfadozenways,andthat’sjustoffthetopofmyhead.IknowIcanfakeit;it’swhatI’vebeendoingsincemymotherbecameDemeteranddraggedourfamilyoutofitsidylliccountrylifeandintothesnakepitthatisOlympus.“Proveit.”
Thechangeisalmostinstantaneous.Erossmilesatme,andit’sasifthesunjustcameoutfrombehindacloud.Itwarmshiseyesandlightsuphisface.Heleansacrossthetableandtakesmyhands.“Iloveyou,Psyche.Let’sgetmarried.”
IbreakoutingoosebumpsandmyheartbeatpicksupuntilIcanhearitinmyears.Evenknowingthisisfake,Ican’thelpreacting.“That’lldo,Iguess,”Isayfaintly.
Justlikethat,heflipsaswitchandthecoldnesscreepsbackoverhisfaceandeyes.“LikeIsaid,Icanfakeit.”
Idon’twanttodothis,butmyoptionsarebetweenbadandworse.WhichmeansIdon’tactuallyhaveachoice.Still,Ican’thelppressinghim.“Whywouldyoudothis?Whynotjustdowhatyourmotherwants?”
“Unlikemymother,Iamcapableofputtingmyemotionsasideandthinkinglogically.”Ialmostsnortatthat;Ican’timagineEroshavingemotionsinthefirstplace.Hecontinues,watchingmeclosely.“Yourmotherwillgooffthedeependifsomethinghappenstoyou,andshe’llturnthecityupsidedownuntilshefindstheculprit.There’sthesmallestchanceshemightactuallyfigureoutthetrailleadsbacktome.That’snotmyideaofagoodtime.”
Whenheputsitlikethat,itdoesmakessense.Hemightnotbeabletostophismother,buthe’sawareenoughtorealizethathe’llbetheonepayingtheconsequencesifhegoesthroughwiththis.“That’stheonlyreason?”
Helooksaway,thefirstsignthathemightbeinanythingotherthanperfectcontrol.“Idon’thaveaconscience,sodon’tgetanyfunnyideas.”
“Ofcoursenot,”Imurmur.
“Itfeelsshittytodothisafteryouhelpedme.”Hespeakssosoftly,thewordsarealmostlostinthegeneralmurmurofthebararoundus.
Ican’tdecideifhimacknowledgingthatmakesthissituationbetterorworse.It’sobviouslynotsomethingIcantrytouseasleverage,notwhenhe’sbeenveryclearabouthisintentions.Itdoesn’tmatterifhethinksit’sshitty;he’llstilldoit.Isigh.“I’llagreeononecondition.”
“Youseemtobeunderthemistakenimpressionthatyouhaveanythingtonegotiatewith.”
Feartriestoclamparoundmythroat,butImusclepasttheinstinctiveresponsetryingtostiflemywords.Ican’taffordtoletfearrulemerightnow.Ionlyhaveonechancetopullthisoff,andIhavetogetwhateverpromisesfromhimthatIcan.“WebothknowIdo.”
Afteralongmoment,helooksatmeandinclineshishead.“What’syourcondition?”
“Youwon’tharmmyfamily.Notmysisters.Notmymother.I’mnotdodgingthisbulletonlyforoneofthemtotakethehit.”
Hehesitatesbutfinallynodsagain.“Youhavemyword.”
Idon’tknowifthat’senough,butit’snotlikeIcanhaveacontractdrawnupand…Speakingofcontracts.Fuck.“Ialsoneedaprenup.”
“No.”
IhavetwoyearsbeforeIturntwenty-fiveandgainaccesstothetrustfundmygrandmothersetupforme.It’snotaninsignificantamountofmoney;peoplehavebeenkilledforless.Thenagain,IsupposeEroshassomethingsimilarinhisname.NomatterwhatelseistrueaboutAphrodite,it’scommonknowledgethatherfortunerivalsevenPoseidon’s.OneoftheperksofthatparticulartitleisthemoneyisattachedtoAphrodite,nottothepersonwhoholdsit.ButthelastthreepeopletobeAphroditeensuredthattheirchildrenwerewelltakencareof,sothere’snoreasontobelievethisonehasdoneanydifferently.“Whynot?”
“Becausethisisawhirlwindromanceandpeopledeeplyenoughinlovetosprinttothealtararen’tsmartenoughtowriteupprenupsbeforehand.”
Damnit.He’sright.“Fine.”
“Ifthat’ssettled,let’sgo.”Erosrisesfromthetableandholdsoutahand.“Mycarisaroundback.”
Icautiouslyslipmyhandintohisandallowhimtotugmeoutoftheboothandtomyfeet.Ihalfexpecthimtoreleaseme,buthesimplylacesourfingerstogetherandheadsforthedarkrectangleofshadowsinthebackoftheroom.Aswegetcloser,itresolvesintoanexit.It’snotuntilwe’rewalkingdownthedim,narrowhallwayandthroughthegrimybackdoorthatIrealizethiscouldallbeatrap.
Idiginmyheels,butEroseasilyhaulsmealongbehindhimwithoutmissingastep.He’sstrongerthanhelooks.PanicrearsitsuglyheadandItrytoregulatemybreathing.“Eros—”
“Igavemyword,Psyche.”Hepullsmeoutintothefreezingnightair.Thegroundisslickbeneathmyboots,buthedoesn’tseemtohaveanytroublewithit.“Iknowthatdoesn’tmeanshittomostpeople,butitdoestome.”
Iobviouslyhaven’tlearnedmylesson,becauseIhonestlybelievehim.Evenknowinghecanliesoeffectively,thestrangelookonhisfacewhenIsaidI’dtakehiswordastruthisenoughtoconvincemehemeansit.
I’vemademychoice.Itwasn’tmuchofachoice,butI’llstandbyit.It’snotuntilI’mclimbingintothepassengerseatofhisfancysportscarthattheimplicationsofwhatI’veagreedtoreallysinkin.
Erosstartstheengine,andIlookathim.“Wecan’ttellanyonethetruth.”
“WhowouldItell?”Hesaysitsocasually,asifit’sobviousthathehasnoonecloseenoughtowanttotrustwithwhat’sreallygoingon.Iknowhedoesn’thavesiblings,butsurelyhehasfriends?I’veseenhimwiththeKasiossiblingsregularly,butfriendshipsintheuppercrustofOlympusareoftenmorepoliticalalliancesthananythingelse
Erospullsoutfrombehindthebarandontothestreet.“Thatmeansnotellingyoursisters.”
“It’salittlemorecomplicatedthanthat.Mysistersaren’tgoingtobelieveIhadasecretwhirlwindromance.Wetelleachothereverything.”
“Everything?”Hepullsuptoanintersectionandlooksatme.Theredfromthestoplightplaysoverhischeekbonesandjaw,highlightinghissensuallycurvedlips.
Gods,themanisbeautiful.Ikeepexpectingtogetusedtoit,buteverytimeIlookathim,it’sashocktomysystem.Thatwillwearoff.Ithasto.Ican’timaginebeinginclosecontactwithhimforaprolongedperiodoftimeandstillbeingaffectedonthislevel.ThereareplentyofbeautifulpeopleinthiscitywhoIdon’tlosemyheadaround.He’llnumberamongthemwithinaweek.Ihope.
Didhesaysomething?
Igivemyselfashake.“Yes,everything.Theywon’tbelieveasecretrelationship.”
“Makethembelieve,Psyche.Ifwordgetsoutthatthisisanythingbutgenuine,we’llbothpaytheprice.”
Thesheerweightofwhatwe’redoinghasmeslumpingbackintheuncomfortableseat.Ishift,butitdoesn’tgetbetter.“Howlong?”
“Howlongwhat?”
“Howlongarewedoingthis?”
“Aslongasittakes.”
Istareathim.“Thatisnowherenearspecificenough.”
“Fine.”Heshrugs.“UntilmymotherisnolongerAphrodite.”
Thatseemsmorereasonable,butitcouldstillpotentiallybealongtime.ThereareonlythreewaysforoneoftheThirteentostopholdingtheirtitle—death,exile,orretirement.IcancountononehandhowmanyhavechosenthelatteroptionintheentirehistoryofOlympus.Ascatteringmorehavehadthatoptionforcedonthembecausehealthormentaldeteriorationmadeitimpossibletodotheirduties.Theoddsstillaren’tinourfavor.Aphroditewon’tstepdownvoluntarily,andshe’sinherfifties.Ifleftunchecked,shemightbearoundfordecades.
Ican’tbeinafakemarriagefordecades.Ican’t.I’vebarelyletmyselfdreamofloveandafamilyandeverythingthatentails.IfIspendtwentyyearsmarriedtoEros,thatwillnukethosedreams.Theknowledgeleavesaweightinmychestthatisdifficulttospeakpast.“Youwon’tkillAphrodite.”
“She’samonster,butshe’smymother.”Hetakesanotherturn,guidingthecarnorth.“Iwon’tallowyoutodosomethingtoputherindanger,either.”
Thatlimitsouroptionsconsiderably.Iturnandstareoutthewindow.Thefartherfromthewarehousedistrictweget,themorethebuildingsliningthestreetchange.Thebarsdisappearfromthewindows.Thestreetsbecomemorepristineandlooklessgrimy.AsweentertheblocksaroundDodonaTower—Zeus’sseatofpower—thestorefrontstakeonauniformlookthat’sassoullessasitisflawless.
Severalblocksnorthwestofthetower,Erosturnsintoanundergroundparkinggarage.Imanagetostaysilentuntilheparksandturnsoffthecar.Wesitthereforamoment,theairseemingtogainweightbetweenus.Ican’tlookathim.Thisistoodangerous,toovolatile.Wordsbubbleup,escapingbeforeIcanthinkbetterofthem.“Youknow,itstrikesmethatI’vealreadybrokentheruleaboutgoingtoasecondarylocationwithsomeonewhomeansmeharm.”
Hegivesmeastrangelook.“Doyoualwaysmakebadjokeswhenyou’renervous?”
“No.Never.Butthen,I’veneverbeenthreatenedwithactualdeathbefore,sothere’safirsttimeforeverything.”
“We’lltalkinside.”
Ifollowhimoutofthecarandlookatthespacearoundme.Mymother’sbuildingisquiteabitfartherfromthecitycenter,andalthoughit’snice,it’sveryclearthatourneighborhoodisn’tasinterestedinkeepingupwiththeThirteen’sideaofwhatbeautyentails.Motherlikestostayclosetotheagriculturedistrictsowhenthereareinevitableissues,she’sashortdriveaway.Ourneighborhoodandhomeareexpensivebutunderstated.
Thereisnothingunderstatedaboutthisplace.Eventheparkinggaragereeksofwealth,fromthelineofhideouslyexpensivecars,tothebrightlightsdisplayingeverything,totheglassed-inelevatorarea.Thereisevenasecurityguardinaglassed-inbooth,awhitemaninanondescriptblackuniform.IglanceatEros.“Isthissecurityreallynecessary?”
“Dependsonwhoyouask.”Erosopenstheglassdoortotheinteriorroomthathousestheelevatorandstepsback,allowingmetoprecedehimintothespace.Heslidesanarmaroundmywaist,andInearlylevitaterightoutofmyskin.IttakeseverythingIhavenottoshovehimaway,torelaxagainsthimasiftouchingErosissomethingthatIdoallthetime.
WestepontotheelevatorandIbarelywaitforthedoorstoclosebeforeItrytomoveaway.Erosonlytightenshisholdonme.“Therearecameras.”
Right.Ishouldhavethoughtofthat.Ofcoursetherearecamerascoveringeveryinchofthepublicspaceinthisbuilding.IspeakthroughgrittedteeththatIhopelooklikeagrin.“Wehaven’tstartedthisyet.”
“Westarteditthesecondyousaidyes.Relaxandstopgrindingyourteeth.”Hesmilesdownatme—hisliar’ssmilewithwarmeyesandsweetlycurvedlips.“We’reinlove,afterall.”7
Eros
TouchingPsychewasamistake.She’ssofuckingsoftthatIhavethenearlyunstoppableurgetorunmyhandsalloverherbodyand…Fuck,Ineedtogetaholdofmyself.Beingattractedtoherisusefulfortheliewe’reabouttopulloff,butlosingcontrolisunacceptable.
Mymotherisgoingtobefurious.
Ishouldn’trelishthatknowledge.SheholdsmostofthecardsandIhavesofewthatthere’saveryrealchanceshe’llthrowcautiontothewindandexilemeforthis.Nomatterhowrecklesssheis,she’llknowthismarriageisn’ttherealthing.Notthatshe’dcareonewayoranother.ToAphrodite,itdoesn’tmatterifI’mhopelesslyinlovewithDemeter’sdaughterorplayingsomedeepermanipulation.Sheonlycaresaboutherendgame.
No,theoneweneedtoconvinceisDemeterherself.Ineedherinmycorner,andIneedityesterday.Ifshe’sonmyside—ourside—thenshecanstepinandprotectusinawayevenIcan’tmanage.IamonlyasonofAphrodite.DemeterisoneoftheThirteenandhasmorealliancesandpowerthananyone.
There’sareasonAphroditehateshersomuch,afterall.
Mymotherwouldhangmeouttodryifshethoughtitwouldserveherlonggame.DemeterthreatenedtostarvehalfthecitytogetPersephonebackfromHades—andthenfollowedthroughonthatthreat.IfnotforHades’sforesight,peoplemighthavedied.So,yeah,weneedtoconvinceDemeterthatwe’rehopelesslyinlovesothatherlegendaryoverprotectivemotherlyinstinctskickin.Animpossibleask,butifanyonecanpullitoff,it’smeandPsyche.
Theelevatorstopsatmyfloorandthedoorslidessoundlesslyopen.Theentirefloorismypenthousesuite,sothere’sjustasmallroomherewithasingledoor.IreleasePsycheandunlockthedoor.“Welcomehome.”
Iexpecthertokeepshowinghernervesandherclawsinequalmeasure,butsheturnsahappysmileonme.“Thankyou,baby.I’msohappy.”
It’salie.Iknowit’salie.Thatdoesn’tdetractfromthepowerofmyresponseintheleast.Irockbackonmyheelsandhavetoclenchmyfiststokeepfromreachingforher.ShehatesmeandIdon’tknowhowIfeelaboutheringeneral,butthere’sjustenoughchemistrybetweenustomakethingscomplicated.Ihaven’tmissedthewayhergazekeepsflickingtomymouthasifshecan’tstoplookingatmylips.
Iwasn’timaginingherattractionthenightoftheparty.
I’mnotsurprised;Ihaveaccesstoamirror,afterall.Mylooksareasmuchofaweaponasanythingelseinmyarsenal.Peopleseeaprettyfaceandthey’reconditionedtoexpectcertainthings,whichmeanstheyoftendon’tlookforthedangerbeneaththesurface.IfPsycheisamongthosewhofindmeattractive,allthebetter.We’regoingtobeupcloseandpersonalforquitesometime.
MaybeIshouldn’tlookforwardtothat.Isureasfuckshouldn’talreadybeconsideringhowquicklyIcangetmyhandsonheragain.Ihavetobebetterthanthis.Forourschemetowork,neitherofuscanaffordtobedistracted.
Psychestepsintomyhomeandwhistles.“Youreallywentfull-onmillionaireplayboywhenyoudecoratedthis,didn’tyou?Howcrass.”
Thecloudoflustaroundmyheaddissipatesalittle.Itrytoseemypenthousefromherpointofview.It’sfilledwithexpensivethings,yes,butsoishermother’shome,I’dwager.“What’swrongwithit?”
Herlipsquirkandshesweepsahandtoencompasstheentireroom.“Hownarcissisticdoyouhavetobetohaveahexagon-shapedfoyerwithmirrorsoneverysinglewall?”
“They’renotoneverywall.Justfourofthem.”Theothertwohousethedoortotheelevatorandthedoorleadingdeeperintothepenthouse.Myskinheats,andit’snotdesiretoblamethistime.“Mymotherfeelsstronglyaboutmakingafirstimpression.”
“Morelikeyourmotherenjoysbeingthecenterofattention,evenifshe’stheonlyoneintheroom.”Shesaysitwithastraightface.BeforeIcancomeupwitharesponse,Psychemovestothenearestmirror.They’remassivethingsthatstretchfromfloortoceilingandnearlythewidthofeachpartofthewall,allframedbystylisticmetal.“Eros,theseareridiculous.”Shebrushesherfingersalongtheframethatisdesignedtolooklikeclusteredfeathers.“Gorgeouswork,bututterlyridiculous.”
“You’rebeingjudgmentalrightnow.”Isounddefensive,butIcan’thelpit.JustlikeIcan’thelpwatchingPsycheandhermanyreflectionsmoveabouttheroom,pausingbeforeeachmirrorsoshecanseethedifferentframes.Feathers,daggers,jaggedhearts,andaclusterofarrows.
Psychetouchesherfingertothearrowpoint.“Sharp.”
“LikeIsaid,mymotherlikestomakeanimpression.”
Psycheshakesherhead.“Okay,givemethetour.Ineedtoknowwhatothermonstrositiesthisplaceholdsbeforewemoveforward.”
Iknowshe’susinghumortodealwiththeunexpectedturnsthisnighthasbroughther,butitstillirritatesme.“Idon’thavetomarryyou,youknow?”
“ExceptIkindofthinkyoudo.Youdon’tseemthetypetodoanythingwithoutagoodreason—andit’snotbecauseIwasnicetoyouforfifteenminutesatapartyonce.Youdon’thavetotellme,butlet’sstoppretendingthatthisisone-sided,yes?”
That’stheproblem;I’mnotsureIdohaveadeeperreasonforembarkingonthiswithher.Maybeshedoesn’trealizewhatabigdealthatmomentwasbecauseshe’susedtomovingthroughlife,dealingoutsmallkindnessesonaregularbasis.That’snotmyworld.IfIadmitasmuch,she’lllaughinmyface,andIcan’tblameherforit.WhatkindofmonsteramIthatIhesitatetocrushasinglerose?Idon’tliketheideaoftheworldwithoutherbrightpresenceinit.IfIwanttokeepheralive,tokeepheruncrushed,thisistheonlyoptionavailabletous.
IfIwereagoodman,IwouldoffertofindherawayoutofOlympus.Exileisharsh,butshe’sasmartwomanwhowillshortlyhaveaccesstoagianttrustfund.Shewouldmissherfamily,butshewouldlandonherfeet.Mymotherdoesn’tgiveafuckaboutanythingoutsidethecitylimits—notwhenit’ssodamneddifficulttogetinandoutofOlympus—soit’sasfoolproofaplanaspossible.
ExceptthatputsPsycherightoutofmyreach,too.
Iwanther.Wantherwithanintensitythatdoesn’tmakesensebutthatIcan’tdeny.Imeantohaveher.
Idriftafterherasshesnoopsaroundmyplace,makingcutelittledisparagingcommentsabouttheboldblacktilethatfloorstheentireplaceandthethickdark-redcurtainsthatbracketthefloor-to-ceilingwindowsandthemirrorsthatpopulateeveryroom.Sheevenpokesaroundinsidemyfridgebeforegivingmealonglook.“Youhaveachef.Interesting.Iwouldhavethoughtyouweretooparanoidtoletmanypeopleintothisplace.”
Ipropmyhipagainstthekitchencounterandcrossmyarmsovermychest.“Whatmakesyousaythat?”
“Yourfridgeisfullystocked.Ifyouateoutallthetime,you’dhavetakeoutcontainers,oritwouldbeempty.Yourvegetablesareallfresh,whichsuggeststheyactuallygetutilized.”
Allgreatdeductions,butitdoesn’texplainhowsheleapedstraighttochef.“And?”
Psychesomehowmanagestolookdownhernoseatmedespitebeingagoodsixinchesshorter.“Please,Eros.Someoneashighmaintenanceasyouaredoesn’tcookforyourself.”
“Someone’smakingassumptionsagain.”
Shefrownsatme,andevenherfrowniscute.“Don’ttellmeyoucook.”
“Icook.I’mgoodatit,too.”Whenshekeepsfrowningatme,Ifindmyselfelaborating.“Youwererightaboutmynotlikingpeopleinmyspace,andcookingisoneofthewaysIwinddown.”
Herfrownfades,replacedbyalookofintensecuriosity.“Andtheotherways?”
“Iworkout.”Iwatchherfaceclosely.“Ifuck.”
Hercomplexiongoesabrighttomatored,whichisfascinatingintheextreme.Theonlyothertimeshe’slookedruffledisatthethoughtofherdeath.ThatI’veaffectedhersupportsmygrowingsuspicionthatshe’sjustasattractedtomeasIamtoher.
“Thatwon’twork.”
Iblink.“It’sworkedjustfineformeuptothispoint.”
“I’msureithas.”Sherecoversquicklyandwavesthataway.“Sexisagreatstressreliever.”
Ipushoffthecounterandstalkinherdirection.Slowly.Givingherplentyoftimetoseemecominganddecidewhatshe’sgoingtodoaboutit.“Doyoufuck,Psyche?”
“That’sreallynoneofyourbusiness.”HervoicegoesalittlebreathyasIstopinfrontofherandleanforward,plantingmyhandsonthecounteroneithersideofhergenerouships.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Practice.”I’magodsdamnedliar,butit’sasgoodareasonasany.“Youcan’tjumpeverytimeIgetwithintouchingdistance.Noonewillbelievethatwe’refuckinglikerabbitsifyoudo.”EverytimeIsaythewordfucking,sheflinchesalittlebit.Thatwon’tdo.Thatwon’tdoatall.
Shereachesupcautiously,almostasifsheexpectsmetobiteher,andgingerlyplacesherhandsonmychest.“There?Canwecontinuetheconversationnow?”
Whatconversation?Ican’tstringtwothoughtstogetherwithherhandsonme,andshe’snotdoinganythingbutplantingthemonmypecsasifpreparingtoshovemeoffher.IfightavaliantbattlewithmybodytokeepfromreactinglikeI’mahornyteenagerbeingtouchedforthefirsttime.Iwasneverthisridiculous,evenwhenIwassixteen.Itdoesn’tspeakwelltomysanitythatsheaffectsmeonthislevel.We’reintrouble.
Kissher.
Seduceher.
Thatwillgetitoutofyoursystem.
Iignorethewhisperedtemptationandtrytofocus.“Whatconversation?”
“Youcan’thavesexwithanyone.”Herfingersshiftalittleagainstmyshirt.“I’mnotpolyamorousandeveryoneinmyfamilyknowsit.TheyalsorealizethatI’dgutmypartnerbeforeIstayedwiththemaftertheycheatedonme.Youcan’tbewithanyoneelsewhilewe’remarried.”
Ihonestlyhadn’tplannedonit.SexisexactlywhatIlabeledit:atooltohelpmeletoffsomesteamandwinddown.Ihaveagoodtime.Mypartnershaveagoodtime.Everyonehasclearexpectations.ItmightsoundlikeI’mauser,butthetruthisthatI’mnoprizeandeveryoneinOlympusknowsit.AnyoneItrytodatehastodealwiththemother-in-lawfromTartarus,andthat’snoteventouchingonmyreputationasherfixer.I’mtheguytheyfuck,theguywhogivesthemarideonthewildsidebeforetheymoveontosaferchoicestosettledownwith.That’sthewayitis,andit’salwaysbeenenoughforme.
Thatdoesn’tmeanI’mabouttoconfessthattruthtoPsychewithoutprompting.Notwhenthisisjustanothernegotiation.“Psyche.”Ilikethewayhernametastesonmytongue.IsuspectI’lllikethewayshetastesevenmore.“Ihaveneeds.”
“Isuggestyougetfamiliarwithyourhand,then.”ShehasastubbornsettoherbrowsthatIenjoyfartoomuch.“Or,ifyouwanttogetfancy,I’mmorethancapableofpurchasingyouoneofthosetoysthatmimicyourholeofchoice.”
Thatsurprisesalaughoutofme.“Willyoubecontentwithyourhandoralittlebuzzytoy?”
“Ihavehaddryspellsbefore.Moreoftenthannotinrecentmonths,thosedryspellshavebeentheruleratherthantheexception.”Sheshrugsasifit’safactoflifeandnotagodsdamnedtragedy.
Islidemyhandsclosertoher,pressingmyforearmstoherhips.Shejoltsalittle,andIraisemybrows.“Thesurestwaytohaveyousettleintotheideaofmetouchingyouisthroughexposuretherapy.Sexwillspeedupthatprocess.”
Sheblinksthosebighazeleyesatme.“I’msorry,Imusthavemisheardyou.Ithoughtyoujustsuggestedsexwithyouasexposuretherapy.”
“Idid.”
“Youreallyhaveahighopinionofyourself,don’tyou?”
Ican’ttellifshe’sbeingsarcasticornot,soIignorethequestion.“I’mattractedtoyou.Youdon’tfindmeoverlyrepulsive.”
“Wow,youreallydothinkhighlyofyourself.”
“I’mstatingfacts.Sexistheeasiestwaytofast-tracktotheresultswewant.”TheeasiestwaytogetexactlywhatIwant.
Maybeit’llbejustanothersexualencounter.Desire,sex,wakeupthenextmorningwiththatneedpurged.Weneverhavetodoitagain;we’remorethancapableofsharingthesamespacewithoutmakingthingsuncomfortable.She’stoogoodatplayingthegametodootherwise,andcontrolisneversomethingI’vehadanissuewith.
Untilnow.
“No.Absolutelynot.Idon’tknowwhatyouseewhenyoulookatmethatmakesyouassumeI’dhappilyhavesexwithamanwhowassettomurdermeanhourago,butIhavehigherstandardsthanthat.”Sheputstheslightestamountofpressureagainstmychest.“Backoff,Eros.Now.”
Idoassheasks,allowinghertopushmeseveralstepsback.Iwantherinmybed,butIwanthertherewillingly.“Wecan’tleavethisapartmentuntilyoumanagenottostartlewhenItouchyou.”
“I’llbefinebymorning.”Shemakesashowoflookingaround.“Now,doyouhaveasparebedroom?”
“Psyche.”Iwaitforhertolookatme.Idohaveasparebedroomandit’smorethanadequateforherneeds.ButIwantPsycheinmybed,andI’llplaydirtytogetherthere,evenifit’sjusttosleep.“Imeantitaboutexposuretherapy.Ifnotsex,thensleepingnexttoeachotherwilldoinapinch.”
“No.”
“It’snonnegotiable.”
“Thereareplentyofcoupleswhodon’tsharebedrooms.Mymotherandhersecondhusbandneverslepttogether.”
Iraisemybrows.“TheexistenceofyouandPersephonesuggestsotherwise.”
She’ssodamncutewhensheblushes.“I’mgoingtopretendyoudidn’tsaythat.Stoptryingtodistractme.”
“Lovematch.”Ispeakthewordsslowly.“Ifwe’velostourmindsenoughtorushthroughwithamarriage,thenitwouldbestrangeifyouflincheverytimeIgetcloseenoughtotouchyou.”
“I’llworkonit.Wedon’thavetosleepinthesamebedtoaccomplishourgoals.”
I’malreadytiredofthisargument.“Youdon’twanttoplay?”Imotionbehindme.“There’sthedoor.Iwon’thurtyou,butmymotherwillsendsomeoneelse.Ifyouwanttotryyourchancessurvivingtheweek,you’remorethanwelcometo.”It’sabluff.Ican’tletherleave.Notwhentheconsequencesforbothofusaresodamnhigh.
Shelooksatmelikeshehatesme,butIcanlivewiththat,becausesheturnstowardthehallwayleadingdeeperintothehouse.“Let’sfinishthetourofthismonstrosityofapenthouse.”8
Psyche
AfterseeingtherestofEros’spenthouse—eachroommoreexpensiveandsleekerthanthelast—Ifinallymanagetopryhimoffmeandhideinthemasterbathroom.It’sjustasridiculousastherestoftheplacewithatiledwalk-inshowerlargeenoughtofitsixpeoplewithadozenshowerheadsinvariousstrategiclocations.Thetileisratherpretty,thoughI’llneversayasmuchoutloud.Italmostlookslikerosequartz,whichshinesattractivelyagainsttheslate-graytileonthefloor.Thesinksarebothashinyblackanddeepwithfaucetsthataremotionactivated.Ofcoursetheyare.
Andthemirrors.
Gods,therearesomanymirrorsinthisplace.
Imightownmorethanmyfairshareofmirrorsbackinmymother’shome,butthisistrulyaboveandbeyond.They’reallmassiveandhaveornateframing.Maybetheywouldn’tbesooverwhelmingiftherewasliterallyanyotherdecorationinthisplace.Butno.JustmirrorsandminimalistfurniturethathasmefeelinglikeIwanderedintosomestrangeartgallery.It’sattractiveandexpensivebutultimatelysoulless.
I’msureitsayssomethingaboutEros,butI’mtootiredtoconnectthedotsrightnow.
Ibrushmyteethwiththesparetoothbrushhefoundforme,mostlytogivemyselfsomethingtodo,andstareatmyreflectioninthemainmirrorinthisroom.It’salargehorizontalonethatstretchesacrossthefulllengthofthecounter,theframeasimpleblackmetalthatshinesagainstthetile.Isigh.Thisentirenighthasturnedmyplansontheirhead,butthere’snothingtobedone.Iknowwhentorollwiththepunches,evenifthisoneisaknockout.There’sawayoutofthiseventually,buttheonlypathforwardrightnowistomarryEros.
MarryEros.
ImightlaughifIhadthebreathforit.Iknewhewasattractive.Ihaveeyesinmyhead.Ofcourse,Iknewhewasattractive.Knowingstilldidn’tpreparemefortheforceofhispersonalitywhenheturnsallhisattentioninmydirection.He’snotwarm—Idon’tthinkhe’scapableoftruewarmth—butthesheersexualityheexudesisenoughtomeltallmylogicawaytobaseneed.
ThereasonIjumpeverytimehetouchesmeisn’tbecauseIfindthecontactrepulsive.It’stheexactopposite.Everytimehisfingersbrushmeorhewrapshisarmaroundme,IfeellikeI’vebeenstruckbylightning.
Hewantstohavesex.
Hewantstosleeptogether
Beingself-awaremeansIknowallmyweaknesseswiththesamethoroughnessthatIknowmystrengths.Iamsmartandsavvyandexcellentatcraftingapublicimageformyself.Iamalsolonelyandexhaustedandnotverygoodatseparatingsexfromemotion.Ilearnedthatwithmyfirstboyfriendandtookthelessontoheart.Hookingupcasuallymightbeforotherpeople,butI’llneverachieveit.Igettooentangled.Asaresult,IhavetocarefullyvetanyoneI’minterestedin,whichiswhymyromanticlifehasbeenrelativelybarrenthelastyearorso.IfIcan’ttrustapersontoreallybeintome—insteadofeithertryingtocurryfavorwithmymotherorattemptingtousemeinsomeotherway—thenIcan’taffordtosleepwiththemandhavemylogicalbrainsidelined.
I’llneedeverybitoflogicandforesightandcraftinessIamcapableoftosurvivethismarriagewithEros.Ican’taffordtomisstepinawaythatwillbringmyguarddown.
NomatterhowattractedIamtohim.
Iclosemyeyesandstraighten.Okay,I’vemadethatdecision.NowIjustneedtosticktoit.Icandothis.I’vebeendealingwithstrongpersonalitiessinceIwasborn;thatlabelfitseveryoneinmyfamilyandallthepeopleI’vemetlivinginOlympus.I’lljusthandleErosthesamewayI’dhandleeveryoneelse.AllitrequiresisfindingtherightangletoleverageinordertogetErostodowhatIwant.
Toshiftthepowerofthispartnershipinmydirection,atleastalittle.
Withthatinmind,Iheadtothedoorandopenit…OnlytofindErosstretchedoutonthebed,wearingnothingbutapairofloungepants.Istopshort.Hewashandsomeinatuxandperfectioninanexpensivegraysuit.Heshouldn’tbeabletogetbetterthanperfection.It’snotlogicalintheleast,butsomehowErosinloungepantsissomuchworse.He’sbarefoot
Istareathisfeet.They’renicefeet,Ithink?I’mnotexactlyapersonwhohasstrongopinionsaboutfeet,butthiscasualvulnerabilitysymbolizesakindofintimacythathaseveryalarminmyheadblaringawarning.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“It’slate.I’mtired.”Hepatsthebednexttohim,themusclesinhisarmflexing,whichdrawsmyattentiontohownicehischestis,whichleadsmedown…
Ijerkmygazeawayfromhiships.“Westillhavetotalk.”
“We’lltalkinthemorning.There’snothinglefttosaytonight.”Ican’treallyseehisblueeyesfromhere,butthere’sasettohismouththattellsmethisisn’tabattleI’mgoingtowin.Erospatsthebedagain,thistimeinablatantcommand.“Comehere,Psyche.”
I’mgoingtospendasignificantamountoftimesleepingnexttohim.Isupposeit’slogicaltostarttonight.“NormallyIsleepnaked.”Gods,whydidIjustsaythatoutloud?
“Normally,sodoI.However,you’vetakensexoffthetableforthetimebeing,soIthinkit’sprudenttokeepsomeclothinginplace.”
Prudent.Iswallowdownaborderlinehystericallaughandpadtothesideofthebed.Iknowit’sallinmyhead,butthecloserIgettohim,thethickertheairseemsaroundme.Whetherit’spullingmeinorpushingmeawayisupfordebate.Ireluctantlyundomyjeans.Imightbetooexhaustedtofighthimonsleepingarrangements,butthere’sonethingIcan’tletslide.“Correction:I’vetakensexoffthetablepermanently.”
“It’sopenfordiscussion.”
“It’sreallynot.”Itcan’tbe.Islideoutofmyjeans,achinglyawareofhowintenselyEroswatchesme.GettinganythingclosetonakedwithanewpersonisawkwardandmakesmefeelsofuckingvulnerableinawayIhate.Andthat’swithsomeoneItrustenoughtogetphysicalwith.IbracemyselfasIlookathisface,notsurewhattoexpect.I’veseenthepeopleErossurroundshimselfwith.TheyareallthepeakofwhatOlympusconsidersphysicalperfection.Thinbodies.Flawlessskin.Beautifulinaveryspecificway.
Iamhardlythat.It’ssomethingthatI’mremindedofconstantly,especiallywiththepubliclifeI’vechosen.There’snoescapingthewaysocietalexpectationsscrapeagainstmyreality.
Ilovemybody.I’vefoughtsoincrediblyhardtolovemybody,evenifsomedaysthatfeelslikeanambitioninsteadoftruth.I’mstillpainfullyawarethatnoteveryonefeelsthesame.
Afterashortdebatewithmyself,Itakeoffmysweater,leavingmeinatanktopandpanties.AsIrefusetosleepinabra,Iwrestlemywayoutofitwithoutremovingmyshirt.
There’snothingelsetostallwith,soIfinallylookatEros.
He’sstaringatmeasifhewantstoconsumemebitebybite,savoringeachmorsel.Everymuscleinhisbodyislocked,andthere’snomistakingthehardlengthpressingagainstthefrontofhisloungepants.Lust.It’spurelust,andit’ssostrongitfeelslikeit’sfillinguptheroombetweenus.
Icannot,underanycircumstances,lethimtouchmeagain.
Iclearmythroat.“Scootover.”
“It’saking-sizedmattress.There’splentyofroom.”Hehasthatmildtoneagain,andtheonlyverbalsignthathe’saffectedisaslightdeepeningofthetimbre.“Stoparguingandgetinmybed,Psyche.”
Theonlythingworsethanslidingbeneaththoseblanketsisstandinghereandlettinghimdevourmewithhisgaze,soIobey.Foramoment,IfoolishlyassumethatEroswillsleepontopofthecoversandgiveustheillusionofseparation,buthestandslongenoughtopeelbackthecomforterandsheetsandclimbintobednexttome.
Thisisabadidea.Correction:thisissuchaterribleideathatbaddoesn’tbegintoencapsulateit.
Tomorrow…
Ishootuptoasittingposition.“Ihavetomakesomecalls.”Anythingtoprolongtheneedtoturnoffthelights.
HemovesfasterthanIanticipate,loopinganarmaroundmywaistandpullingmebackagainsthischest.“Stop.”
Ifreeze.Holyshit,Icanfeelhiscockpressingagainstmyass,andthat’snotevengettingintoallthebareskinshiftingagainstmybareskinand,gods,it’sbeensolongsinceItouchedsomeonelikethis.Surelythat’swhymybodyisstrumminghappilyinthisnewpositionevenasmymindscreamsdangerahead.“Whatareyoudoing,Eros?”
Hisbreathghostsagainstthesensitivespotbehindmyear.“Insteadofmakingthosecalls,we’regoingpublicwithourrelationship.”
“Wedon’thavearelationship.”Idon’tknowwhyI’marguing.Thisistheplan,afterall.
“Wedonow.”
Iclosemyeyes,butthatonlymakesthespellhisproximityweavesstronger.He’sstillgothisarmaroundme,whichmeanshisforearmispressingagainstmybreastsand,gods,mynipplesarepebblingbeneathmyshirt.“Wetalkedaboutthis.There’snowaymysisterswillbelieveourrelationship,especiallyifwegopublicbeforeItellthemI’m,ah,inlovewithyou.”
“Whattheybelievematterslessthantheperceptionwepresent.”Didhislipsjusttouchmyskin?Ican’tbesure.AllIknowisthatI’mfightingbackshivers.
“Itwillneverwork.It’shardlyevenaplan.”
“You’rearguingsimplytoargueandyouknowit.You’remorethancapableofhandlingPersephoneandtherestofyoursistersinwhateverwayyouseefit.”Heshifts,hisarmrubbingagainstmybreastseversoslightly.“Besides,yoursisterswouldn’tdoanythingtoputyouindanger,sothey’llplayalonguntiltheyhaveachancetotalktoyouface-to-face.”
He’snotwrong.Ihatethathe’snotwrong.Iconsiderthisforalongmoment,runningthroughscenarios.“You’reproposinggoingpubliconmysocialmedia.”Itmakessense.Withasinglepicture,wecanannounceourrelationshipandgetaheadofanyrepercussionsfromAphrodite.ThisonlyworksifallofOlympusbuysourlovestory,andforthattohappen,allofOlympusneedstoknowit’shappening.
“Yes.Mineissadlyneglected.”
Itmightbeneglected,buthehasnearlyaslargeaplatformasIdo.It’sgoodtobeAphrodite’ssonwiththefaceofagodandamysteriouspersonalitytomatch.Buthe’sright.Ifoneofusweretoannounceourrelationshiptotheworld,itwouldbeme.
Iopenmyeyes.I’mgoingthroughwiththis.I’vealreadycommitted.Nowit’ssimplyamatterofdoingitright.“Okay.Givemeafew.”
EroswatcheswithsomethingakintoamusementasIclimboutofbedandmovearoundhisroom,turningonsomelightsandturningoffothers.Iusemyphonetoshootafewtestshotsofhim,andthencursehiminwardlyforbeingsophotogenicthateveryphotolookslikeitshouldbeinsomemagazineaboutmillionaireplayboysontheiroff-time.
IttakesmovingthelamponthenightstandontothebedtogetthelightI’mlookingfor.It’snotperfect,butit’scloseenough.Andreally,nooneexpectsperfectforthekindofshotwe’recreating.
IdragforthwhatlittlecourageIhaveleftandcrawlbackintobedwithEros.Hesmoothsmyhairofftoonesideandtugsthestrapofmytanktopdownalittlesomyshoulderisbare.Ialmostyankitbackup,butwe’regoingforintimateandalittlesexy,soitworks
Ianglemyphoneandsnapafewphotos,tryingnottojumpwhenhekissesthespotwheremyshouldermeetsmyneck.“Stopthat.”
“Gottomakeitgoodforthecamera.”
Iflipthroughthepictures.“You’retakingadvantageandyouknowit.That’saterribleangletoseeyourface.”
Erostugsmeevenclosertohim,andthenhishandcupsmyjaw,turningmyfacetohis.“Getthecameraready,”hemurmurs,hisgazeonmylips.
Ishouldn’t.It’saterribleidea.Theabsoluteworst.ButIchecktheangleofmyphoneandthenturnbacktohim.Ionlyintendforittobeaquickkissandsnapafewpicturesassoonashislipstouchmine.
Erosisn’tcontentwiththat.Henipsmybottomlip,sharpenoughtodrawagaspfromme,andhepromptlytakesadvantageoftheopeningtosliphistongueintomymouth.HetasteslikethepepperminttoothpasteIusedinthebathroom,andhekissesmelikethisisjusttheopeningbattleinwhatheexpectstobealongwar.
Imelt.There’snootherwordforit.Idropmyphoneanddigmyhandsintohiscurlyhair,allowinghimtodeepenthekissevenasasmallvoiceinthebackofmymindcallsmesevendifferentkindsofafool.
Ifhepushedthingsorwenttoofast,thenmaybereasonwouldhaveintrudedandputastoptothisfoolishness,butErosseemscontenttosimplykissmeuntilwearebothbreathinghardandI’mshaking.Hiscockisalonglengthagainstmyhip,sohardthatIhavetofightmyselftoavoidreachingforhim.
Whenhefinallyliftshisheadandstaresdownatmewitheyesgonedarkfromdesire,helooksalmostasshockedasIfeel.Theexpressionshiftsawayalmostinstantly,replacedbyfiercedetermination.HeeasesbackslowlyenoughthatIhavetobitemybottomliptoremindmyselfthatthisisfake,thatImostcertainlycannotreachforhimanddraghimontopofmetofinishwhatthatkissstarted.It’sonlywhenhe’saprecarioussixinchesawaythathespeaks.“Yourwordssayonething,butthatkisssayssomethingelseentirely,Psyche.Sexisstillupfornegotiationandyouknowit.”9
Eros
BytheendofasleeplessnightspentlyingnexttoPsyche,I’mcursingmyselffornotlettingthingsspinoutofcontrolthewaywebothwanted.Shewasrighttherewithme,archingtopressasmuchofherlushbodyagainstmeasshecould.Itwouldhavetakentheslightestmovementtotipusovertheedge.
Idon’tknowwhyIheldback.Irefusetoexaminemyreasoning.
Iflipthroughhersocialmedia,mostlytodistractmyselffromthetemptationtotugthesheetdownpastherchestandjustlookather.She’stoofuckingsexy.Beingthiscloseandnottouchingherfeelslikemybloodissimmeringwithnosignsofcoolingdownanytimesoon.BackingofflastnightwasmoredifficultthanI’lleveradmit,especiallywhenherhandsstartedshakingwhereshegrippedmyhairandherhipsmadelittleseekingmovements.
Bestnottothinkaboutthatrightnow.I’mliabletobewalkingaroundwithapermanentcaseofblueballsasitstands;noneedtomakeitworse.
Despitepostingthephotosolate,italreadyhasthousandsofcommentsandevenmorelikes.Thecommentssnagmyattention.Ifrown,gobacktothetop,andstartscrollingslowly,readingeverysingleone.
Whatisthisshit?
Nexttome,Psychestirs.Inotehergoingtense,butsherelaxesprettyquicklyoncesherealizesI’vemaintainedthecarefulspacebetweenus.Sheyawns,herhandcoveringhermouth.“What’sgotthatlookonyourface?”
Igripmyphonetightly,enoughthatthere’saveryrealdangerI’mgoingtocrushthedamnthing.“Whatthefuckiswrongwithpeople?”
“You’regoingtohavetobemorespecific.”
Ialmostturnthephonescreentofaceherbutthinkbetterofitatthelastmoment.Itdoesn’tmatterifshe’smorethancapableofseeingthisshitonherown;I’mnotgoingtoshowittoher.“Peoplearesayingsomefucked-upshitaboutthatphoto.”
“Oh.”Herexpressionfallsalittle,butsheshrugsitoffquickly.“Thefirstandmostvitalruleoftheinternetistoneverreadthecomments.Thatisexponentiallymoreimportantforanyonewhodoesn’tfitthetraditionalviewsonbeautyorismarginalizedinanyway,butthetruthisthateventhethinnest,mostgorgeousmodelsgetpeoplebeingterribleintheircomments.Trollswillbetrolls.”
Howcanshesayitsocasually?More,howlongdidittakehertobuildupthatimpressivewallbetweenherandtheassholesinthecommentssection?Iglareatmyphone.“It’snotright.”
“No,it’snot.Butyoucan’tdoanythingaboutit,andgettingupsetoversomestrangerwhoseopinionIdon’tcareaboutiscounterproductive.”
Iglareharderatmyphone.“Maybeyoucan’tdoanythingaboutit,but—”
Herhandcoversmymouth,thelighttouchscatteringmyviolentfantasies.Psychegivesmeawarylook.“I’msureyouweren’tabouttotellmethatyoucanfindoutwhothesepeopleareandthreatentheminsomeway.”
Sincethat’sexactlywhatIwasabouttosay,Ikeepmymouthshut.
Shedoesn’tlowerherhand.“Wehavebiggerbattlestofightrightnow.”Shepicksupherphonewithherfreehandandshowsittome.Therearesomanytextsandcallsthatthenotificationsdisappearoffthescreen.“Now,weneedtotalk—andnotaboutstrangersontheinternet.”
TheonlyreasonIhaven’theardfrommymotheryetisbecauseshecheckedherselfintothespayesterdayafternoonandwillbethereallweekend.It’ssomethingshedoesmonthly,andbysomestrangecoincidence,theseoccasionsoftenlineupwithaparticularlyunsavorytaskshe’sgivenme.Aphroditewouldneverbecaughtwithoutanalibi,andinthiscaseitwillworkinourfavor.Thoughshehasherassistantpostafewphotosthroughthespatrips,sheintentionallymakesherselfdamnnearimpossibletogetaholdof.
IsighagainstPsyche’spalmandwrapmyfingersaroundherwrist,easingherhandfrommyface.“Weneedtogetmarriedasquicklyaspossible.”Beforemymotherchecksoutofthespaandrealizeswhatwe’vedone.“Agirlfriendisstilldisposable.Awifeisn’t.”
Shemakesaface.“Yes,Iunderstand.We’reinagreementthere.”Psycheglancesatherphone.“We’lldothecutedatingstuffforthepublicaftertheceremonytoreallyselltheromance.”
Idon’taskforclarificationaboutwhatcutedatingstuffis.It’snotmyforteandI’llbethefirsttoadmitit.Rightnow,theweddingceremonytakesprecedence.Thelesstimewegivemymothertoreact,thebetter.Still…“ImeantwhatIsaidlastnight.We’renotleavingmyapartmentuntilIcantouchyouwithoutyoustartling.”
“You’retouchingmerightnow.”
Igiveheralook.“YouknowwhatImean.”
Shesighs.“Fine.ButIneedtoreturnthesecalls,ormysistersandmotherwillbeknockingatyourdoor.”Psycheglancesatmybedroomdoor.“I’mhonestlyalittlesurprisedCallistoisn’talreadyhere.She’slearningsomerestraintnowthatshe’salmostthirty.”
MorelikeIhavethebestsecuritymoneycanbuy,andwhileCallistoDimitriouisformidable,she’snoHermes.Ifullyexpecttoseeher,though.Soonerratherthanlater.“Therewillbeinterviewrequests.”
“Ialreadyhavesix.”Shescrollsthroughherphoneasshesitsup.Hertanktopisdangerouslylow,herlargebreastsstretchingthefabrictothepointwhereit’dsimplybekindertotakeitoff.Psychesighswithoutlookingatme.“Stopstaringatmychest.It’sdistracting.”
Ican’tstayinthisbedwithher.IfIdo,I’mgoingtoseduceherandwe’renotgoingtoleavethisroomfordays.I’mstartingtocometotermswiththeknowledgethatonenightwithPsychewon’tbeenough.Icouldhavespentallnightkissingher.Therealizationisn’tacomfortableone.“I’mgoingtotakeashower.”Maybejackingmyselfwillgivesomerelief.Ican’tbeexpectedtothinkstraightwhenI’vebeennursingahard-onforsomethinglikesixhoursstraight.
ExceptwhenIstepunderthewaterandwrapmyfistaroundmycock,allIcanthinkofisPsyche.Howsweetshetastes.Herbigtitsandfullass.Howgoodherlipswouldlookwrappedaroundmycock.Icomewithacurse.
Fuck.
I’mnotnormallysoimpulsiveastochangeaplanatthelastmoment,butIcan’tdenyhowrightitfeelstogetdressedandwalkouttofindPsycheinmybed,typingawayonherphone.Herhairisalittlemessyandshe’spulledonherjeans,butshelooksalmostathomehere.Dangerousthoughts.Soincrediblydangerous.Ifinishbuttoningupmyshirt.“Let’seat.”
“I’mnothungry.”Shedoesn’tlookatme.“Ihavesomethingstotakecareofbeforethecallwithmysistersinthirtyminutes.Ialsoneedtofigureouthowtogetmystufffrommymother’shomewithoutrunningintoherbecausethat’snotaconversationI’mreadytohaveyet.Orrunningintoyourmother.ThoughIcan’tsayI’veeveraccidentallyendedupatthesameplaceasAphrodite,Zeus’spartiesexcepted.”SheholdsupahandwhenIopenmymouth.“Irealizethatweneedtogetthephysical-touchthingfiguredout,butIalsohaveexactlyzerochangesofclothes.”
Ishrug.“I’llbuyyoumore.”
Thatgetsherattention.Sheliftsherheadtofrownatme.“That’sridiculous.”
“Yousaidyoudon’twanttogohomeanddealwithyourmotheryet,andIdoubtyouwanttobewearingyesterday’sclotheswhenyoudo.Nottomentionit’snotexactlysafetobewanderingaroundOlympusbeforewe’reactuallymarried.Simplesolution:newclothes.”
“Eros.”Shespeaksslowlyasiftalkingtoachild.“Youmightbeabletowalkintoanyplacethatcarriesmenswearandfindyoursize,butIdon’thavethatluxury.TheshopsarebetterthantheywereafewyearsagobecauseIgetsomuchpressforthedesignerswhododecentplus-sizedclothing,butthereareonlytwoorthreethatI’dtrusttohavewhatIneedinstock,andeventhen,it’donlybeahandfulofitems.Buyingmeawholenewwardrobeisn’tpossibleonshortnotice,notwithoutgoingthroughtwiceasmuchworkasitwouldbetogetmyactualclothing.”
Ihearwhatshe’ssaying,butIdon’tlikeit.“That’sridiculous.Whywouldn’ttheyhaveawiderangeofsizestofitalltheircustomers?You’rehardlytheonlywoman’swho’s…”Iwavemyhandather.
“Fat.”
Ibristle.“Ididn’tsaythat.”
“It’snotaninsult.It’sjustaword.”Sheshrugsagain.“It’salsothetruth.AndwhileIappreciateyourenthusiasticdefenseforplus-sizedsizingeverywhere,there’slittleyoucandoaboutitatthemoment.Ineedmyclothes.”
IwanttokeeparguingbecausePsychenothavingeverythingsheneedsatthetipofherfingersaggravatesme.She’sright,though.Wedon’thavetimeforthisshit.“Talktoyoursisters.Winthemoverandconvincethemtodistractyourmothersowecangetinandgetoutwhileshe’snotinthehouse.”
“We?”
“Yes,we.I’mnotlettingyououtofmysight.”
Psychesetsdownherphonewithexaggeratedcare.“Youdon’thavetofollowmearoundlikeashadow.IhavenowheretorunandI’vegivenmywordthatI’lldothis.”
Igiveintothegravityofherpresenceandcrosstostandinfrontofher.Ilikethelittlelinethatappearsbetweenherbrowswhenshefrownsatme.Ievenlikethathermindisalreadywhirlingaheadofthisconversationtowhatsheneedstoaccomplishnext.That’snotgoingtostopmefromslammingherbackintothehereandnow.“Ican’tkeepyousafeifI’mnotwithyou,Psyche.”
“Doyoureallythinkyourmotherwillregroupthatfast?”
MorelikeIknowshe’scapableofit.Evenwithoutmehelpingher,Aphroditehasn’theldpowerforsolongwithoutgoodreason.She’saformidableenemy.“Ithinkitwouldbealargewasteoftimeandeffortifwewentthroughallthisnegotiationandthenshehadsomeoneriganexplosivetoyourcarwhileyou’reoutrunningerrands.”
Shefrownsatme.“Thatseemsextreme.”
“We’vegoneoverthis.There’sareasonaverypublicromanceandmarriageistheonlyoption.”Ileandown,bracingmyhandsoneithersideofherhips.Shemanagestokeepherjolttothebarestflinch,butthereactionisstillreadilyapparenttoanyonewhowatchedusclosely.Idropmygazetohermouthandshelicksherlips.It’snotquiteaninvitationtokissheragain,whichisjustaswell.She’sright.Weneedtofocus,especiallythroughthefirstfewdaysofthis.Thenextforty-eighthourswillmakeorbreakOlympus’sbeliefinthiswhirlwindromance.“We’llhavetheceremonytonight.”
Herhazeleyesgowide.“Tonight?”
“Thesooner,thebetter.Ifyoucanconvinceyourfamily,theyaremorethanwelcometoattend.I’llhavetwowitnessesasbackup.”
“Whoareyourwitnesses?”
Insteadofanswering,Ipressaquickkisstothatlittlelinebetweenherbrowsandrise.“Youhavetwentyminutesuntilbreakfastisdone.”
“IsaidI’mnothungry.”
“It’sgoingtobealongday,Psyche,andyouneedthecaloriestokeepyourenergyup.”Ipauseinthedoorway.“It’dbeadamnedshameifyouswoonedwhenIputmyringonyourfingerandIhadtocarryyoutoourmarriagebed.”
Shemakesaface.“That’snotfunny.”
“No,it’snot.Twentyminutes.”Iclosethebedroomdoorbehindmeandwalkdownthelonghallwayandintothekitchen.I’mnotevensurprisedtofindHermesstandingatthestove,herdarkhairdoneupintwopuffbunsonthetopofherhead.She’swearingskintightoverallshortsandacroppedtopwithapictureof…Krampus?Alsokneesockswithlittletreesonthem.Icrossmyarmsovermychestandleanagainstthecounter.“Breakingandenteringisacrime.”
“Formostpeople.Withme,it’spracticallymylovelanguage.”Sheusestheskillettoflipwhatappearstobeapassableomelet.“Speakingoflovelanguages,imaginemysurprisetoseethatdevastatinglyromanticpictureofyouandPsycheonhersocialmedia.”Sheshootsmeabrilliantgrin.“Congratstothehappycouple.I’llofficiatethewedding,ofcourse.”
Thattakesonetaskoffmylist,butIknowHermestoowelltoacceptthisgiftwithoutlookingforbarbsattached.“Why?”
“TheDimitriouladiesaresointeresting,don’tyouthink?Whentheyfirstarrivedonthescene,Ithoughttheywereliketheotherboringsocialclimbers,butI’vechangedmymind.Ithinkthey’regoingtoturnOlympusitselfonitshead.”
Idon’tknowifthat’saterrifyingthoughtorawelcomeone.Iglancebackdownthehall,butmybedroomdoorisstillshut.“Ichangedmymindaboutkillingher.Thisistheonlyoption.”
“Careful,darling,orImightthinkyou’vedevelopedanastyconditioncalledaconscience.”Shepullsaplateoutofmycupboardandslidestheomeletontoit.
“Wouldn’tdreamofit.”IthasnothingtodowithaconscienceandeverythingtodowithtakingwhatIwant.IwantPsyche,havewantedhersinceshetookcareofmeinthatbathroominDodonaTower.Ican’thaveherifshe’sdead.That’sall.
Hermessitsonmycounterandstartseatingtheomelet.“You’llneedtwowitnesses.Hersisterswon’tdoit.”
“Youseemrathersureofit.”Iam,too,butI’mcuriousenoughtokeepHermestalking.
Shetakesabiteandmakesaface.“Toomuchprosciutto.Ugh.”Shechewsslowlyenoughtotrymypatience.“They’llbetoobusylookingforanopportunitytogetherawayfromyou.You’llhavetofindyourwitnessesyourself.Idon’tsupposeyourmotherisinagenerousmood?”
Igiveherthelookthatstatementdeserves.“I’mgoingtoaskHelenandEris.”
Hermesfreezesandthenburstsoutlaughing.“Theballsonyou,Eros.Gods,it’sashameyoumakeabetterfriendthanaromanticpartner—andthat’snotsayingmuchbecauseyou’reashittyfriend.Butlifewithyouwouldneverbeboring.”
Idon’tbothertoargueaboutmybeingashittyfriend.Iam,andwebothknowit.“It’sagoodplay.”
“Oh,undoubtedly.NotevenZeuscanargueagainstthemarriageifhissistersstandaswitness.”Shegrins.“I’llbetyouagrandtheysayno.”
“I’lltakethatbet.”Imotionatthedoor.“Nowgetout.Ihavecallstomake,andyouneedtofindasuitorsomethingtoweartonightbecausethisgetupisn’tfitfortheoccasion.Forfuck’ssake,Hermes.Christmaswasnearlytwomonthsago.”
“Christmasisastateofmind.”Butshehopsoffthecounterandpushesherplateintomyhands.“Igotit.Fancyduds.I’llinviteDionysus.”
Thewomancannothelpbutstirthepoteverychanceshegets.Irollmyeyes.“Youknowbetter,Hermes.”
Shekeepswalking,talkingoverhershoulderatme.“Heprobablywon’tshowup,onaccountofthefactthathehatesyou.ButI’llinvitehimbecauseIamagoodfriend,anditwouldhurthisfeelingsifIdidn’t.”
“Dionysusisn’tmyfriendjustbecausehe’syourfriend.”
“Can’thearyou.Bye!”Shefingerwavesinmydirectionandthenshe’sgone.Afewmomentslater,Ihearthefrontdoorclose.Istalktoitandflipthelocks.I’vemademypeacewithHermesshowingupwhenevershedamnwellpleases.Thewomanis90percentcat;shecomesandgoeswhenshefeelslikeitandhelpsherselftomyfoodandboozeregardlessofwhetherI’minthehousetoofferitornot.It’sannoyingandweirdlyendearinginawaynoonebutHermescouldpulloff.
She’sagreedtoofficiate,sothat’sonelesscallIhavetomake.Iheadbackinthekitchen,cleanoffHermes’splate,andgettoworkonmakingbreakfastformeandPsyche.It’sgoingtobealongfuckingday.10
Psyche
“Youwhat?”
Ibitebackasighandfocusonmyphone.It’sdividedintothreesquares,eachdepictingoneofmysisters,allwithvaryingexpressionsoffuryanddisbeliefontheirfaces.Eros,damnhim,wasright.Thisisn’tgoingtobeaneasysell.“ErosandIaregettingmarried.Tonight.”
Callisto’scameramovesasshepacesbackandforthinherroom.“I’mgoingtokillhim.”
“Youcan’tthreatentokilleveryonewhopissesyouoff,”Persephonesays.“Butinthiscase,I’minclinedtoagree.Orbreakhislegs,shovehiminabox,andhavehimshippedoutonthenextboatleavingOlympus.I’msurePoseidonwouldn’tnotice.”
“Pleasestopthreateningviolenceagainstmyfiancé,”Isaymildly.
Eurydicewatchesme,hereyesshadowedwithsorrow.“Itwon’twork,Psyche.AphroditehatesusbecauseofMother,andErosistheweaponsheusestopunishthethingsshehates.”
Iknowthatbetterthanallthreeofthematthispoint.Ifightbackashiver.“Mymind’smadeup.Pleasesupportmeinthis.”Istarttosaythatit’struelove,buttheliestickstomytongue.“Aphrodite’sandMother’sopinionsonthemarriagedon’tmatter.”
“That’sabitshortsighted.”
IgivePersephonealook.“SaysthewomanwhoranawayfromZeusandhookedupwiththeboogeymanofOlympus.Let’snotcaststones.”
Mysisterseemsentirelyunconvinced.“Hadesdidn’tearnhisreputation.Eroshas.”
Ican’targuethat,soIgowiththeonlythingIcan.Anhonestplea.“I’maskingyoutosupportmeinthis.I’mchoosingtomarryEros,andIwon’tchangemymind.”
Eurydicelookslikeshe’sgoingtocry.Callistoistheexactopposite;shehasthesamedangerousexpressiononherfaceaswhenshestabbedAres’soffendinghandorwhenshestartedthatbarfightnottoolongago.AndPersephone?She’swatchingmeasifshe’sneverseenmebefore.Finally,shesays,“Ifyouwereintrouble,you’dtellus,wouldn’tyou?”
Notinahundredyears.NotwhenI’muptomyeyeballsandsinkingfast.There’snothingtheycandotohelp,andiftheytry,allitwilldoisprovidemoreopportunityforAphroditetoremovemepermanently.Worse,shemightturnhervengefulgazeonmysisters,too.Draggingthemdownwithmewouldbetheheightofselfishness,andIrefusetodoit.SoIholdmysister’sgazeandlie.“Ofcourse.”
Shesighs.“Motherisgoingtohaveaheartattackwhenshehearsthis.”
“No,shewon’t,andyouknowit.She’sbeenlookingforawaytostickittoAphroditeforyears,andonceshecalmsdown,she’llrealizethismarriageistheperfectwaytodoso.”EvenifitmeansIwon’tmarryZeusthewaysheobviouslywanted.Ican’taffordtothinkaboutthattoohardrightnow.
“‘Whenshecalmsdown’isoneratherlargecaveat.”ApuppyappearsinPersephone’sscreen,acutelittleblackmuttthatlicksherchinandmakesaneageryippingsound.Shepetshisheaddistractedly.“Notnow,Cerberus.I’mtalking.”
Callistocurses.“Thisisbullshit.I’mnotsupportingthis.”ShehangsupbeforeIcangetawordinedgewise.
Eurydiceshakesherhead.“I’msorry,Psyche.Butyou’regoingtoregretdoingthis.Ican’tsupportit,either.”Shehangsup,too.
Ibitebackasigh.It’snolessthanIexpected,buthopespringseternal.PersephoneisstillpettingCerberusinacontemplativeway.Shefinallysays,“Itrustyourjudgment.Idon’tthinkthisistherightcourse,butIsuspectyou’renottellingmeeverything.Lastnight,youweretaggedinhalfadozenpostsaroundtownwithHermes,andthismorning,surprise,you’remarryingthesonofourmother’senemy.”
It’severythingIcandotokeepmyguiltoffmyface.“Tobefair,halftheThirteenareMother’senemies.”
Shedoesn’tsmile.“YouwentalongwithmewhenIaskedforyoursupportwhileIstayedwithHadesafterfleeingZeus.YougavemethetimeandtrustIneededtofigurethingsout.It’dbehypocriticalintheextremenottosupportyourightnow,too.”
Isnort.“I’msogladyou’vecometothatconclusion.”
“Hey,IloveyouandI’mworriedaboutyou.IamreallytemptedtocomepullaCallisto,breakdownhisdoor,andhaulyouovertherivertothelowercity.”
IfIthoughtforasecondthatwouldwork…Butitwon’t.Persephonealreadytoldmethatshe’sseenErosinthelowercity,andevenrevokinghisinvitationmightnotbeenoughtokeephimout.It’sdifficulttocrosstheRiverStyxwithoutaninvitation,butit’snotimpossible.ThebarrierinplaceisaslightlyweakerversionoftheonethatsurroundsOlympusasawhole.LikePoseidonwiththeexternalbarrier,Hadeshassomecontroloverwhocomesandgoesfromtheuppercitytothelowercity.It’snotaperfectsystem,though.
NottomentionthefactthatEurydiceandCallistoarehere,bothidealbackuptargetsforAphrodite’swrath.NexttimesheordersoneofDemeter’sdaughterdispatched,Erosmightnottakethetimetohaveaconversation.Hemightsimplystrike.
Ican’tletthathappen.
“Iwantthis,”Irepeatforwhatfeelslikethetwelfthtime.
“Ifyouchangeyourmind,we’llgetyouout.”Notellingifshe’stalkingaboutherandherhusbandorherandoursisters,butneitheroptionisagoodidea.“We’llbeatthewedding,though.HadesandI.”Persephonehesitates.“DoyouwantmetotrytoconvinceCallistoandEurydicetocomeaswell?”
“No,it’sokay.”Ican’tblamethemfornotwantingtoattendourshamofamarriageceremony,evenifitstings.“ButifyoucouldinviteMotherouttobrunch,I’dreallyappreciateit.Ineedtogetmythingsfromthepenthouse,andIcan’tdothatifIruntheriskofseeingherthere.”Timemighthavetemperedmymother’simpulsecontrol,butCallistocomesbyherragehonestly.Iwouldn’tputitpastthetwoofthemtolockmeinmyroomuntilIseereason,whichwouldjustmakethissituationevenmessier.
“Consideritdone.I’lltextyouwhenit’sconfirmed.”
“Thankyou.”
Shegivesmeasmallsmile.“Becareful,Psyche.Erosisdangerousintheextreme.”
Iunderstandthatfarbetterthansheeverwill.Itryforasmileinreturn.“Iknow.He’samonster.Butaftertonight,he’smymonster.”
Wehangupprettyquicklyafterthat,andItakeafewminutestotrytoputmyappearancetorights.Eros,thankfully,hasawholecabinetfullofhairandskinproducts,butmostofitisunfamiliartome.Icombmyhairandtwistitupintoamessy-chiccrownaroundmyhead.Ikeepasmallselectionofmakeupinmypursefortouch-ups,whichisalifesaverrightnow.BythetimeIexitthebedroom,Ilooklikeawomanwhojusthadanunexpectedsleepoverwithherpartnerbutstillputtogether.Itwillhavetodo.
AdivinesmelldrawsmeintothekitchentofindErosfinishingupahashwithpotatoes,peppers,andfriedeggs.It’sheavierthanwhatI’dnormallyeatforbreakfast,butIaccepttheplatehepassesoverandtakeaseatononeofthestylishironstoolsthatflankthekitchenbar.They’renotexactlycomfortable,buttheyarepretty.Itakeafewbites,enoughthatErosstopswatchingmeanddigsintohisownmeal.
Weeatinastrangelycomfortablesilence,interspersedbyourrespectivephonesbuzzingwithnotificationseveryfewseconds.Erosgiveshisadirtylook.“Howdoyouputupwiththisshit?”
“It’snecessary.”IlearnedearlyonthatpoweristheonlythingtheuppercrustofOlympusrespectsandthatI’dneverattainitbytryingtoimitatethem.Ihadtogomyownwaywhilestillplayingthegame—acarefulbalancethatexhaustsmemoreoftenthannot.Butitwasworking,atleastuntilAphroditeturnedhervengefulgazeinmydirection.Iscrollthroughthenotifications.Severalarefrommymother,growingincreasinglyirate.Anotherfewareinterviewrequests.“Howlongdoyouwanttomakethemwaitforinterviews?”
Hehesitatesandfinallysaysgrudgingly,“Ibowtoyourexpertiseinthis.”
Surprisingthathe’llwillinglygiveupeventhismuchcontrol.Iignorethestrangeflareofwarmthinmychestatthetrusthe’splacinginme.“Isaywegiveitaweek.Afewpicturesofthewedding,afewoutingswheretheyseeusbeingthelovingcoupleinpublic,andthey’llbesofrothingatthemouthtogetanexclusivescoopthattheywon’tbothertoaskhardquestions.”Ihavejusttheinterviewerinmindforit,too,butIhaven’theardfromheryet.
“Okay.”Hestretchesandthenhishandlandslightlyonthespotbetweenmyshoulderblades.Idon’tflinchthistime;I’mtoobusytryingnottomeltashetrailshisfingersoverthenapeofmyneck.“Ilikeyourhairup.”
“IassureyouthatyourpreferenceshaveabsolutelynothingtodowithhowI’lldressoractinthefuture.”
Eroschuckles,thesoundlowandstrangelyhappy.“Youareaconstantsurprise,Psyche.Ilikethat,too.”
Idon’tshrugoffhishand.EvenasItellmyselfit’spracticeforbeinginpublic,IknowI’maliar.Iliketheweightofhispalmagainstmyskin.Ilikehowtenderlyhetraceshisfingersdownmyspine.Believingthathe’sactuallyaffectedandnotsimplyadjustingtomethesamewayI’madjustingtohim…
He’snot.I’mnopsychologist,butifErosisasociopath,Iwouldn’tbesurprised.Hedoesn’tseemtohavethemoralbrakesmostpeopledo.Ormaybethat’sjustasideeffectofbeingraisedfrombirthbyAphrodite.Natureornurture,thebottomlineisthatifhehasemotionsbeyondamusementandirritation,hekeepsthemhiddendeepdown.Andlust.Wecan’tforgetaboutlust.Eroshasthatinspades.
Evenso,thisisallalie,agame,even.
Idon’tlookupfrommyphone.“Whyareyoudoingthis?”
“Idon’twantyoudead.”Hesaysitsosimply,Iflinch.
“What’ssospecialaboutmethatIgetspared?”Hehasbodiesinhispast.He’sadmittedasmuch.“IsitbecauseI’mDemeter’sdaughter?”
Hesnorts.“No,that’shardlyamarkinyourfavor.”
“Thenwhy?”
Erosstareshardathisplate.“I’vedonealotofstuffI’mnotproudof,hurtpeoplewhoIthoughtwereenemiesatthetime,onlytofindoutlaterthattheonlythingthey’deverdonewrongwastopissoffmymother.”Heshrugs.“Afterawhile,itdidn’tmatterwhatthey’ddone,onlythatshecommandedthemtobepunished.”
Istilldon’tunderstand.“Butshecommandedmetobepunished.”
“Yeah,shedid.”Erosstabsapieceofpotato.“ButlikeIsaid,Idon’twantyoudead.Thisistheonlyotherway.”
Ihavenoreasontotrusthim.None.He’sgivenhisword,yes,butOlympusisfilledwithliarsandcheats.Evenmymotherhasbeenknowntocommittoashadydealwhenthesituationcallsforit.EveryoneinthecitythinksthatsheandHadeshaveanalliance;theydon’t.Instead,shetradedherhelpforHades’sattendanceatsixeventseachyear.Heshowsupatherside,andpeoplemaketheassumptionsmymotherwantsthemtomake.It’snotthetruth,though.TheuppercitymighthaveforgottenhowfarshewaswillingtogotoreturnPersephonetoherengagementwiththeoldZeus,butHadeshasn’t.
MymotherisarguablyoneofthegentlerhandswhenitcomestoOlympianpowergames.Aphroditehasneitherasofttouchnorasubtleboneinherbody.Eroswouldn’thavesurvivedthislonginthiscitywithoutbeingalittlebitofbothliarandcheat.Icertainlyhaven’t.There’splentyhe’snottellingmeabouthismotivations.Forallthat,Itrustthathe’sasintentonthismarriageasIhavetobe.Alltheotherdetailswillfallwheretheymay.
It’sourjobtoensuretheyfallwherewewantthemto.
Myphonebuzzesasatextcomesthrough.AwelcomedistractionfromhowgooditfeelstohaveErostouchingme.
Persephone:We’remeetinginanhouratPoppy’s.She’sfuriousaboutthatphoto.Betweentheonelastnightandtheother,shethinksyou’vebeensecretlydatingbehindherback.Goodluck.
Ourplanisworking.ThisiswhatIwanted.SowhydoIfeelsosickaboutit?
Itypeaquickthank-youandpushmychairback.“Mymotherwillbeleavingthepenthouseinaboutthirtyminutes.”She’llwanttogettoPoppy’searlytoensureshehasherpreferredtable.Mymotherisn’tpredictablewhenitcomestomanymovesshemakes,buttherearecertainthingsIcanreasonablyassumeshe’lldo.Oneofthoseismaneuveringtogetthebesttableinanyrestaurant,maximizedforseeingandbeingseen.
Erosgrabsbothourplatesandheadsforthesink.“Let’sgo.”
“Wereallydon’t—”Icutmyselfoffatthelookonhisface.It’sclearhe’snotabouttoletmeoutofhissight,andIhonestlydon’tknowwhatI’ddoifIgotalittledistancefromhim.I’vecommittedmyselftothis,yes,butiftherewasachancetofindanotherway…IamwhoIam,whichmeansIammymother’sdaughter.Iwillalwaysbelookingforthebestpathforward,evenifthatmeanspivotingunexpectedly.
Nottomentionifhe’sseriousaboutthethreathismotheroffers,Iactuallyneedhimtolookoutforme.Ihaven’tsurvivedthelasttwenty-fourhoursonlytofallnow,whensurvivalisonthehorizon.“Fine.Let’sgo.”
Ittakesusfiveminutestogetourshoesonandintotheelevator.There’sadifferentsecuritypersonwaitingattheflooroftheparkinggaragewithEros’scar,awhitewomanwithbright-redhairandevenbrighterlipstick.Shesmilesathim,andtheexpressiononlydimstheslightestbitwhensheseesme.“Morning,Eros.”
“Morning.”Hebarelyglancesatherasheholdsthedooropenformeandwhisksusdowntotheaisleheparkedinlastnight.Exceptinsteadofgoingtothetinysportscar,hewalkspastittoadarksedan.It’sstilltheheightofluxury,butit’ssurprisinglyunderstated.WhenIraisemyeyebrows,Eroslooksaway.“ThePorscheisn’tpracticalifwedon’twanttodrawattention.”Hisshouldershunchthetiniestbit.“Andyouweren’tcomfortableinit.”
Thereisabsolutelynoreasonforthatsliverofthoughtfulnesstohaveheatflushingmybody.Noneatall.I’mnotsostarvedforattentionthatmyheadwillturnoversuchasmallthing.Andyet…“Thanks,”Isaysoftly.
IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dthinkhe’sblushingasheunlocksthedoorsandweclimbintothecar.Wedon’tspeakaswepulloutoftheparkinggarage,andI’mgratefulforthesilencebecauseitallowsmetimetogetmyheadonstraight.Idon’tneedtobeoveranalyzingEros’smotivationsforswitchingvehicles.IneedtothinkandstrategizeaboutwhatI’mgoingtopackandwhatIabsolutelycan’tlivewithout.Doingitinonetripisgoingtobeachallenge,butI’llfigureitout.
Idon’tquestionthefactthatErosknowswhereIlive.IcanpinpointthebuildingsofalloftheThirteenandmostoftheirinnercirclesandfamilies.Itpaystobeawareofthesethings,andsoeveryoneis.
“WhereshouldIpark?”
“Thestreet.”
Hemakesaface.“That’smoreexposedthanI’dliketobe.”
“Iknow,butit’sariskwehavetotake.”Thesecuritypeoplewhoworkforthebuildingmonitorourcomingsandgoingsandreportthemtomymother,andthelastthingIneedisforhertodecideweneedtobedetainedsosheandIcanhaveasit-down.There’snoavoidingitindefinitely,butIwantErosandmetobebeyondthepointofnoreturnbeforeMothergetsinvolved.LikeAphrodite,evenshewillhavetorecalibrateoncehisringisonmyfinger.
Speakingof…“Weneedrings.”
ErosexpertlyparallelparksinaspotsmallenoughthatIwouldhavesaiditwasimpossible.Heturnsofftheengine.“Thejewelerwillbeatmyplaceattwothisafternoonwithaselection.Ijustneedyoursize.”
Ofcoursehe’sthoughtofthat.Itellhimmyringsizeandwatchasheshootsoffatext.Myphoneisstillblowingupwithnotifications,butI’vesilenceditsoIcanworkthroughthemwhenIhavetime.“Idon’tknowifCallistoisthere,butIdon’twantaconfrontation.”
“Youdon’thavetoworryaboutit.”
Igivehimthelookthatdeserves.“Ithinkwe’vealreadyestablishedthatviolenceisdefinitelysomethingyou’recapableof.”
Hetransformsbeforemyeyes.Thecoldnessdisappearsfromhisfaceandhegivesmeacharmingsmile.“Iwouldneverharmanyonetheloveofmylifecaresabout.”
Idigmynailsintomypalm,usingthebiteofpaintoremindmyselfthatthisisfake.Nomatterhowintenselymyheartflutterswhenhelooksatmelikethat,it’sallanact.Imayneedtogetmydamnheartlookedatsoon,though.Surelyskippingbeatsthisregularlyisn’thealthy.“Let’sgetthisoverwith.”
“Afteryou,beloved.”11
Eros
I’veseentheoutsideofDemeter’sbuildingplentyoftimes,andIhavetheblueprintsofthepenthousesheshareswithherdaughters—justlikeIhaveblueprintsforallthebuildingsofpeoplewhocouldeventuallybemymother’smarks.It’sstilladifferentexperiencetowalkintothelobby.Icounthalfadozencarefullyconcealedsecuritypeople,whichmeansthere’slikelyanotherhalfdozenonthepremises,ifnotmore.Demeter’stakingnochances,thoughshe’snotthetypetowanttorubthepresenceofsecurityinherguests’faces.
Ormaybeit’sherdaughtersshe’sworriedabout.
Inanyothersituation,thesecuritypeoplewouldbeanannoyance,butrightnowthey’reactuallyanasset.Mymotherwon’tstrikehere,won’tsendherpeoplehere.It’stoorisky,withtoolittlereward.Psycheissafeaslongaswe’reinthisbuilding,andIcanrelaxalittle.
Sheheadspastthemainelevatorsanddownashorthallwaytoadifferentone.Shepressesherpalmtothepadnexttoit,andamomentlater,itflashesgreen.Interesting.Thedoorsslideopenandshestepsinside.“I’mgoingtoputtogetherasuitcase,butIneedyoutohauloutsomeoftheotherthings.”
Curiositygrabsmebythethroat.Hersocialmediaalwayslookssoeffortless.Idon’tfuckwiththatshitforthemostpart,butevenIknowthemorenaturalitappears,themoreeffortitactuallytakes.I’mabouttogetapeekbehindthecurtain.
Itshouldn’tmatter.HersavvinessatpresentingacompellingstorytotheworldisanassetIintendtoutilize.That’sit.Watchingherstagethat“spontaneous”photowithusinmybedwasarevelation.Shewentaboutitwithasingle-mindedfocusthatIfindentirelytoosexy,andthatwasdonewithafewlampsandherphone.Iwanttoseehowsheworkswhenshehasallhertoolsatherdisposal.
IwouldwagerthatPsychewasbeingentirelygenuinethenightwewerefirstphotographedtogether,butshe’sadifferentkindofgenuinewhenshe’screatingcompellingfictionforOlympustoconsume.Andconsumetheydo.Icheckmyphone.Thelikesonthatpictureofusarewelloveramillionatthispoint,andit’snotevennoon.Truly,she’sbrilliantatwhatshedoes.
Theelevatordoorsopenintoasurprisinglywelcomingfoyer.Thewallsareadeepgreenthatshouldbeoverwhelming,butcombinedwiththelight-graytiledfloor,theyactuallycreateanappealingbalance.Thereareafewpiecesoffurniture—twotall-backedchairsinanunderstatedfloralprintandalong,darkwoodentablewithavarietyofdrawers—thatseemtoinvitegueststositdownandhaveachat.Inthefuckingfoyer.
Nextisthelivingroom.It’smoreofthesame.Boldwalls,lightfloors,andfurniturethatlooksremarkablycomfortable.Therearebooksscatteredonthecoffeetablecenteredbetweenalongcouchandanotherpairofchairs:genrefictionbookswiththeirspinescreasedfromreading.It’salltoopossibletopicturePsychedrapedoverthecouch,
Thisplacefeelslikeahome.
Hownovel.
Mymotherusesherlivingroomasaplacetoentertainguests,whichmeansshealwaysstronglydiscouragedmefromspendingleisuretimetheregrowingup.That’swhatbedroomsarefor;personalspacethatcanbehiddenawaybehindacloseddoor.Shekeepshergamefaceonatalltimes,evenintherelativeprivacyofthesharedspacesofmychildhoodhome.Iwasexpectedtodothesame.
Iwanttofindanexcusetopokearound,butPsyche’sleadingmeupthefloatingstairs,andtheprospectofseeingherroomoverridesallelse.IfDemeter’sdaughterstreatthisentirepenthouseaspersonalspace,whatwillPsyche’sactualpersonalspacereveal?
Istopshortintheupstairshallway.IttakesPsycheseveralstepstorealizeI’mnotbehindherandstopaswell.Sheturnswithanimpatientsigh.“Iknowthetemptationtosnoopisnearlyoverwhelming,butpleasekeepup.Wedon’thavemuchtime.”
She’sright,butit’slikemybrainhasskipped.Istareatpicturesliningthewalls.They’reartfullyarranged,ofcourse,butthey’repersonal.StagedphotosinlargeframeswithPsycheandherthreesistersincoordinatingclothing,startingfromwhentheywereverysmallandcontinuingtowhatlookslikearecentone.They’reinteresting,butwhatreallycatchesmyeyearetheunstagedphotosinsmallerframespepperedthroughout.
PsycheandPersephone,theirarmsthrownaroundeachother’sshoulders,theirhairinpigtails,andPsychemissingherfrontteeth.
ApreteenCallistoholdingupafishnearlyaslargeassheis,ahappygrinonherfacethatisentirelyunfeigned.
Allfourgirlsdressedupincostumes.Eurydiceafairy.Callistoaknight.Persephoneanangel.Psycheaprincess.
Mychesthurts.Whythefuckdoesmychesthurt?They’rejustpictures.ObviouslyPsyche’salwaysbeengoodatpictures;she’sthemostphotogenicofallherratherphotogenicfamily.Thereisnoreasonforsomeundefinedbarbedemotiontolashthroughmeatthephotographicevidenceofherhappychildhood.Itcertainlyshouldn’tbemadeworsebythefactthatDemeterhassaidphotosprominentlydisplayed,ifinapartofthepenthousewhereonlyfamilywouldspendtime.
“Eros?”
Igivemyselfashake.“I’mgood.”
“Areyou?”Psyche’sbrowsdrawtogether,worrylingeringinherhazeleyes.“What’swrong?”
“Nothing’swrong.”Itshouldbethetruth.Idredgeupmycharmingsmile,butPsycheonlyfrownsharderinresponse.Right.SheknowsI’mlying,andshewon’tbefooledbyafakesmile.Icurse.“Nothingshouldbewrong.It’snotrelevant.”
“Areyousure?”
“Yes.”
Shelooksatmeforamomentlongerbutfinallynods.“Okay,let’shurry.”Sheturnsandcontinuesdownthehallway,leavingmetofollow.
Igivethephotosonelastlonglookandthenleavethembehind.Maybeitshouldn’tbesonovelthatPsycheandhersistershadagoodchildhood,butthisisOlympus.Iwasraisedonpowergames,andIlearnedtoliearoundthetimeIlearnedtowalk.It’sthesamewithHelenandPerseusandtheirsiblings.ThoseofusbothfortunateandunfortunatetobebornintoOlympuspoliticswereinasink-or-swimsituationfromaveryyoungage.
Mymother,inparticular,toleratednomissteps.
NowonderkindnesscomessonaturallytoPsyche;shehadanabundanceofitgrowingup.
Shestopsinfrontofthethirddoor,drawingmefrommythoughts.Anticipationcurlsthroughme.Thisshortvisithasalreadybeenatreasuretroveofinformationaboutthiswoman.Herbedroomwillbetheultimatelookbehindthecurtain.Psycheopensthedoorandstepsintotheroom,leavingmetofollow.
It’s…amess.
Istandinthedoorwayandtakeinthestacksofclothingdrapedovereveryavailablesurface.There’sanantiquevanitywithcountlessjarsandtubesofmakeupandskin-careandhair-carestuff.“Yousleepinacloset.”
“Thisisabedroom.”
“Isit?Ican’tseeabedanywhere.AllIseeareclothes.”
“Shutup.”Shefollowsasmallpathofclearedfloordeeperintotheroom.“Ihaveasystem.”
“Ihighlysuggestyoufindanewsystem,becauseIcan’tlivelikethis.”Thethoughtofallthisclutter,systemorno,isnearlyenoughtomakemebreakoutinhives.Iexpectedthisroomtobemoreoftheattractive,welcomingvibethatpermeatestheentirepenthouse.Thisispuremayhem.IedgemywayalittleintotheroomandpokethepileofclothesbalancedprecariouslyonwhatIassumeisachair.“I’mmarryingachaosmonster.”
“ThenIguesswe’rebothmonsters.”
“Cute.”Iresisttheurgetocontinueproddingthemoundofclothingandfocusonher.“Butwebothknowthat’snottrue.”
“Yes,yes,you’rethebiggest,baddestmonsterintheroom.Stayontask.”Shedisappearsthroughanotherdoorwayandreturnswithagiantsuitcase.Anothertripthroughthedoorwayandshe’sgotavarietyofbagsthatlooklikelightingequipment.Theseshethrustsintomyhands.“Holdthese,please.”
“I’veseenphotosofyourbedroom.Itdoesn’tlooklikethis.”Forallmyteasing,thebedisclear—butit’snottheoneI’veseenpictured.
“Oh.Yeah.”Shedropsthesuitcaseonthebedandstartspickingthroughthepilesofclothingandtossingstuffintoit.“IusePersephone’sbedroom.She’skindofaneatfreakandshe’sgotaniceaestheticgoingoninthere.Plus,sheneverpostedphotosofinsideourhouseevenbeforeshemovedtothelowercity.”
Iwatchthreemoredresseslandontopofthesuitcase,colorfulfabricspillingout,beforeIloseit.“Forfuck’ssake.”I’mnotacleanfreak,assheputit.Ilikemyshitinorderbecauseitsimplifiesmylife,butI’mhardlygoingaroundwithalabelmakerorhavingameltdownwhensomethinggetsmoved.Thatsaid,hercompletedisregardforanythingresemblingorderismakingmyrighteyetwitch.Isetthelightingequipmentbythedoorandcarefullywadetoherbedandstartfolding.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Ignoremeandkeeppacking.”It’skindofstrangetobehandlingwomen’sclothing.It’sacompletelydifferentsensoryexperiencefrommystuff,andmostresistnormalfolding,soIhavetoresorttostrategicrollingtogetthemintosomesemblanceoforder.ItryveryhardnottothinkaboutPsychewearinganyoftheitems,especiallynotthesilkdressthatslidesovermypalmsasIwrestleitintosubmission.ItwouldlookgreatonmyfloorafterItuggeditoffhershouldersand…
Focus.
Thesuitcaseishalf-packedwhenshegivesmealonglook.“Ijusthaveafewmorethings.GrabtheequipmentandI’llmeetyoudownstairs.”
“Nicetry.No.”
“Eros,I’mabouttostartdiggingthroughmyunderweardrawers.Givemealittlespace.”
Istarttoargue,butstopwhensomethingelseoccurstome.“Aweddingdress.”
“What?”
“Youneedaweddingdress.”
Psychefrowns,butthencurses.“Ineedaweddingdress.Shit.Thiswillneverwork.There’snotenoughtime.”Shekeepsgoing,wordstrippingoverthemselvesasshespirals.“Ohgods,nooneisgoingtobelievewe’rereallydoingthisifsuchanimportantpieceisn’tinvolved.”
Igrabhershoulders.“Psyche,lookatme.”
“GuessIshouldstartpickingoutmygravestonebecause—”
Idon’tthinkabouttheimplicationsofmyactions.Ijustkissher.Shetenses,butbeforeIcanpullaway,she’smeltingagainstme,herhandsinstantlygoingtomyhairandherbodypressingtomine.Now’sthetimetostop,torecalibratethisconversationforasolution.I’veheadedherpanickingoffatthepass,soI’veaccomplishedwhatIsetouttodo.Wejustneedtobreakthekiss…
I’mnotreadytogiveupthetasteofPsycheyet.She’ssofuckingsweetonmytongue.Anotherreminderthatshe’sunlikeanyoneI’veevermet.Cunningandohsocarefulaboutherpublicimage,butbeneaththat,she’ssoftandfunnyandsofuckingsweet.
Agoodmanwoulddoanythingtopreservethiswoman’ssoftcenter.Hewouldbattleherdemonsandenemiesaliketocreateaworldwhereshecouldletdownherbarriersandlivehappilywithoutthearmor.HewouldgetherthefuckoutofOlympus,wouldpromisehersafetywithoutanyselfishgainsforhimself,wouldputheruponapedestalandworshipatthealtarofherdaily.
I’mnotagoodman,though.
I’mafuckingmonster.
IwantPsycheformyown.Adesirethatwaskindledthatfirstnightbuthasgrownbeyondcontrolinthelasttwenty-fourhours.Idon’tcareifshedeservessomeonejustassweetassheis.Iwantherchainedtome,andI’llripoutthethroatofanyonewhothinkstheycantakeheraway.
Icupherjawandangleherheadbackalittle,takingthekissdeeper.Claimingherinthistinyway.Markingherasmine,evenifwe’retheonlytwopeoplewhowillknowit.Shemakesalittlewhimperingsoundthatgoesstraighttomycock.Itwouldbenothingatalltonudgeherbackontothebedandkeepkissingheruntilweforgetallthereasonsthisisaterribleidea.
Exceptwearen’tinmypenthouse,withalockeddoorbetweenusandtherestoftheworld.Ican’tseducePsycheintolettingmedoeverythingIwanttoherbecauseit’sonlyamatteroftimebeforewe’reinterrupted,andthatwillensureInevergettotouchheragain.
Unacceptable.Nothingwillkeepmefromthiswoman…notevenmyownselfishurges.
Reluctantly,Iliftmyhead.Sheblinksthosebighazeleyesatme,herlipsplumpedevenmorefromourkiss.It’salmostenoughtohavemetastingheragain,butreasonchoosesthatmomenttotakecontrol.Idraginaraggedbreath.“Tellmeyourmeasurements.”
Sheblinksagain.“What?”
ThepuresatisfactioncoursingthroughmeattherealizationthatI’veaffectedherjustasmuchassheaffectsmeisworrisome.JustanotherpieceofevidenceshowcasingjusthowoutofcontrolIamrightnow.Ipushitawayandtrytofocusonthehereandnow.“Yourmeasurements.Ineedthem.”
Shelicksherlips,hergazestilldistracted.“Um,wetalkedaboutthis.It’snot—”
“Yourmeasurements,Psyche.”Icoastmyhandsdownhersidestogripherhips.“Unlessyouwantmetotakethemmyself.You’llhavetostripdown,ofcourse.”
Shetakesalargestepback,breakingourcontact.“Thatwon’tbenecessary.”SherattlesoffaseriesofnumbersthatIpromptlymemorize.Psyche’sfacehasgonered,andshewon’tquitemeetmyeyes.“Isthateverything?”
“Yeah.”Igrabthelightingequipment.“I’llwaitforyouatthecar.”
“Thankyou.”
IttakesmoreeffortthanIwouldhavedreamedtoturnandwalkawayfromher.Iretracemystepstothelivingroomandtaketheelevatordown.ThoughIhalfexpectCallistotoappear,Idon’trunintoanyoneasIstridetomycarandtucktheequipmentintothetrunk.There’sroomforhersuitcaseandnotmuchelse,butwe’llmakeitwork.Afterabriefdebatewithmyself,IdecidemakingthecallfromthecarisbetterthanstandingonthestreetandwaitingforPsyche.There’snotasmuchfoottraffichereasthereisaroundmyplace,butI’mstilldrawingstares.It’sonlyamatteroftimebeforesomeonetakesaphoto,postsit,andthenthepaparazzishowup.ThelastthingIneedisanyoneoverhearingthisconversation
NottomentionthetintedwindowshidemefromanyonewhomightbewalkingbyandgivemeagoodviewoftheentranceofDemeter’sbuilding.
IscrollthroughmycontactsuntilIfindHelenKasios—daughterofthelastZeus,sistertothecurrentone.Ihadtocallheranyway,sothiswillkilltwobirdswithonestone.Shedoesn’tmakemewaitlongbeforesheanswers.“Sincewhendoyoudatesomeoneseriouslyenoughtobeinternetofficial?”
Ofcourseshe’sseenthephoto.Atthispoint,nearlyeveryoneinOlympushasseenthephoto;that’stheentirepointofit.Itakeasilentbreathandgearupforthefirstofmanyperformances.“Psyche’sspecial.”
“Uh-huh.Don’tgetmewrong;alltheDimitriouwomenarecharacters,andifanyonecouldturnyourhead,it’sastrongpersonality,butthatdoesn’tchangethefactthatifwewerefriends,thenyou’dhavetoldmeyouweredatingsomeone.”
She’snotexactlywrong.IknowmymotherhopedthatI’dendupmarryingeitherherorhersister,butwe’veneverbeenmorethanfriends.Andwearefriends,orasclosetoitasispossibleforpeoplelikeus.“Ididn’tthinkyou’dapprove.”
“Liar.”Shedoesn’tsoundpissed,justamused.“Thisreeksofascheme.It’sfine.Youdon’thavetotellmethedetails.Iassumeyou’recallingbecauseyouneedsomething.”
“Youwoundme,Helen.”
Shelaughs.“Thatwouldrequireyoutohaveaheartthatcouldbewounded.”
She’sgotmethere.IglanceattheentrancetoPsyche’sbuilding.Idon’thaveaheart,butmyfuturebridedoes.It’smyjobnowtoensureitstayssafelywithinherchest.Helenwillhelpwiththat,evenifshedoesn’tknowthefullstory.Idropthecharmingpersona,strangelygratefultodoawaywiththebullshit.Icanmaintaintheactindefinitely,butthere’sacertainreliefinbeingabletobemytrueself.I’mallowedthefreedomwithsofewpeople.“Ineedtwofavors.”
“Granted,butIwantoneinreturn.”
Isnort.“Youhaven’tevenheardwhattheyareyet.”
“Idon’tneedto.I’mbored.AfterErisdecidedtostirthepotbyspillingabsintheonbothDemeterandAphroditeatthelastparty,Perseushasgotusallunderlockdownsowedon’tbringanymoreshameontothefamilyname—asifthatwereevenpossibleafterourshitshowofafather.”Shemakesaderisivenoise.“Ineedadistraction,andwhateveryouhavegoingonwilldonicely.”
“Andforyourfavor?”
“I’llfigureitoutlater.Justtellmewhatyouneed.”
Givingopen-endedfavorsisn’texactlymystyle,butIhighlydoubtHelenwilldecidetouseitagainstme.Beyondthat,ifshewereintrouble,ImightbullshitalittlebutwebothknowI’dhelp.“Ineedthecontactinformationforthatclothingdesignerinthelowercityyouliketouse.Theonewhopissesmymotheroff.”
“Juliette.Sure.I’lltextyouhernumber.”Myphonebeepsasecondlaterwiththetextinquestion.“Thatwasboring.What’sthesecondthing?”
Bestnottobeataroundthebush.“IneedyouandEristostandaswitnessesatmywedding.Tonight.”
She’ssilentforsolong,Ihavetoresisttheurgetochecktoseeifthecalldropped.Ithasn’t.Helenjustneedstimetoprocess.Whenshefinallydrawsinalongbreath,Ibracemyself.Shedoesn’tdisappoint.“Eros,Isaythiswithalltheloveinmywitheredheart,butareyououtofyourfuckingmind?Datingherisonething.Marryingher?Yourmotherisgoingtostrokeout.Gods,mybrotherisgoingtostrokeout,too.AndlikelyDemeter.You’regoingtotakeoutthreeoftheThirteeninasingleact.It’sbrilliantlyruthlessbutrecklessintheextreme,andyou’renotreckless.”
Notusually,butthenthere’snothingusualaboutthissituation.“Willyoudoitornot?”
“I’lldoit.”Shedoesn’tevenhesitate.“Idon’tknowwhatyou’replanning,butI’lldoit.Eriswill,too.”
Idon’tbothertoaskhertoconfirm.Ifthere’sonethingEriscanbeguaranteedtodo,it’sshowupwhenthere’schaosinthewind.AweddingbetweenmeandPsycheistheverydefinitionofsowingchaos.“We’redoingitatmyplacetonightatseven.”
“We’llbethere.”
“Helen…Thanks.Forshowingup.Fornotaskingtoomanyuncomfortablequestions.Forallofit.”
Shehuffs.“It’sreallysadthatyou’reevenalittlesurprisedthatIwould,butIcan’texactlyblameyou.ThisisOlympus,afterall.”
“Yeah.”Therulesaredifferenthere,atleastforthecircleswemovein.Havingapersonyoutrustenoughtoaskforafavoristhemostvaluablethingintheworld—andaboutasrareastheGoldenFleeceoflegend.
Wehangupquicklyafterthat,andIglanceattheclockandthenthefrontdoortoPsyche’sbuilding.She’stakinghersweettime,butIhaveonemorecalltomakebeforeIgohuntherdown.Thisonegoesevenquicker.ApparentlyHelensentJulietteatextrightaftershesentmeone,sothedesignerisexpectingmycall.
IexplainwhatIneedandgiveherPsyche’smeasurements.Shemutterstoherselfforafewminutes,andIcanhearherflippingthroughhangersontheothersideoftheline.“Ihaveseveralitemsthatmightsuit.You’llhavetocometome,though.Idon’tgiveafuckwhoyourmotheris—that’samarkagainstyou,tobeperfectlyhonest—orifthebrideisoneofmyclientsfromtimetotime.I’mnotcrossingoverintotheuppercity.”
Isilentlycurse,butIshouldhaveexpectedthis.MymotherhelpeddriveJulietteoutoftheuppercity.Ican’trememberwhy,onlythatitwasoneoftherarecaseswhereshehandledthingsherselfinsteadofhavingmedoitforher.Notthatitmatters.Aphrodite’sfeudscanbeaspettyastheyarelong-reaching.Atbestguess,thedesignereitherrefusedtoworkwithherorclothedarivalbetterthanAphroditeforsomeevent.
Thenagain,thismightbesomethingofablessingindisguise.Psycheisinfinitelysaferinthelowercitythansheisintheuppercityrightnow.Fromthere,we’llgorightbacktomyplace,getmarried,andremovethetargetfromherbackonceandforall.
Iinjectasmuchcharmintomyvoiceaspossible.“Howsooncanweshowup?”
“Givemeanhourtomakesomeadjustments,andthenI’llneedanotherhourtoensurewhicheveroneshepicksisfittedproperly.”Shegivesmetheaddressofherplace.“Bepreparedtopayfordisruptingmyplansfortheday.”
“Ofcourse.”
ShehangsupjustasIcatchsightofPsychehaulingtwosuitcasesoutthedoor.Iclimboutofthecarandhurrytoherside.“Packinglight,Isee.”
“You’retheonedeterminedtomovemeinwithyou.ThisisbarelyhalfofwhatIneedtosurvive.”Shefollowsmetothecarandwatchesmewedgeonesuitcaseintothetrunkandtheotherintothebackseat.“Weneedtoleave.Persephonetextedlettingmeknowthatherbrunchwithourmotherisfinished.”
Iholdthedooropenforher,ignoringthestrangelookshegivesme,andthenwalkaroundtothedriver’sseat.“Callherback.”
“Persephone?Why?”
“Weneedaninvitationtothelowercity,andweneeditnow.”12
Psyche
Idon’tknowhowErosgotJuliette’sinformation,butanhourlater,we’redrivingontooneofthethreebridgesinOlympustomeether.Eachofthemhaveaparticularfeel,andCypressBridgecallsbacktoourGreekroots.Therearetallpillarsliningit,andinthelightofthelatemorning,theygivetheimpressionofcrossingintoanotherworld.
MyearspopaswecrosstheRiverStyx,butthat’sasuncomfortableasthingsget,thankstoPersephone’sinvitation.Withoutit,movingfromtheuppercitytothelowercityisn’timpossible,butit’ssignificantlymoreuncomfortable.Orthat’swhateveryonesays.I’venevertrieditmyself.ThefewtimesI’vevisitedmysisterinhernewhome,I’vebeenwelcomed.
We’renotheadedtothathousetoday.Erosguidesussouthalongtherivertothelowercitywarehousedistrict.Itlooksnearlyidenticaltotheoneintheuppercity—eachblockpopulatedwithmassivewarehouses,thestreetswithverylittlefoottraffic.It’sstrangehowdeterminedtheuppercityistopretendthelowercityisactuallylower,whenreallyit’snotthatmuchdifferent.Atleastonthesurface.
Inreality,thedifferencesrunbonedeep.
Iknowmysisterlovesitdownhere,butIdon’tunderstandthissideoftheriver.Surelythepeopleherearen’tactuallyastransparentasPersephonemakesitsound?Howdotheygothroughlifewithoutthedefenseofapublicimageinplace?Itbogglesthemind.Thenagain,IsupposetheytaketheircuesfromHades.He’saverydifferentkindofrulerthananyZeushaseverbeen.
Eroscirclesthemassiveblockandparksinfrontofawarehousethatlooksindistinguishablefromtherestoftheothersinthearea.Irecognizethesubtlesignabovethedoor,though.Juliette’s
Heturnstolookatme.“Getwhateveryouneed.Sparenoexpense.”
“Eros—”Maybehedoesn’trealizehowexpensiveJuliette’scustompiecesrun,butI’mnotmercenaryenoughtotakehimuponthisoffer.
“Imeanit.”Heshutsofftheengine.“Imagematters,remember?”
Right.Ourimage.Myimage.That’swhathe’sworriedabout.He’snotsomebesottedmanwithablackcreditcardwantingtotreathispartner.Thisisallabouttheplan.“Ofcourseitmatters.”Istepoutofthecarbeforewecancontinuetheconversation.He’sright;Ineedtokeepmyeyeontheprize.
Theprizebeingmylife.
Juliette’swarehousemightseemlikealltheothersontheoutside,butit’sacompletelydifferentworldinside.Rightoffthedoor,thereisastylishsittingroomwithavarietyofchairsandreadingmaterial.Therestofthespaceisdividedintotwo.Thefronthalfforracksuponracksofclothing,arrangedbystyle,size,andcolor.Theback
Shemusthavebeenwatchingforusbecausesheappearsimmediately,stridingdownthespacebetweentworacksasifitwerearunway.Ifshewereanyoneelse,Iwouldthinkshe’sputtingonashow,butthisisjustJuliette.Shestartedhercareerasamodel,andwhileshemayhavemovedtothefashionsideofthings,she’sstillnaturallyawareofhersurroundingsandsubconsciouslyputtingforthherbestangles.
Notthatthewomanhasabadangle.She’satallBlackwomanwithcheekbonessharpenoughtocutandafocusedairaboutherthatspeakstohowshemadeittothetopofherfield.Shemeetsmygazeandsmiles.“Congratulationsonyourengagement.”
Imanagetosmileback,anditalmostfeelsnaturalonmyface.“Thankyou.Andthankyouforworkingwithusonsuchshortnotice.”
“Ofcourse.”Juliettemotionstowardthechangingroomstuckedagainstthefarwall.“IhaveafewoptionspickedoutthatIthinkwouldsuit.”
Ifshesaysthey’llsuit,Ibelieveher.Thewomanistrulyamasterwithfit,fabric,andstyle.There’sareasonIhaveafewofherpiecesinmysuitcasecurrently,thoughshe’sexpensiveenoughthatItrytorationmypurchasesforspecialoccasions.Aweddingisnothingifnotspecial,Isuppose.“Thankyou,”Isayagain.
“You.”SheturnsdarkeyesonEros.“Gositdownorwaitoutside.Idon’twantyouwanderingabouttheplaceanddistractingme.”There’snogiveinJuliette’svoice.Oronherface,whereshe’sbarelyconcealingherdislikeforEros.Whenheobedientlywalksaway,hisfootstepsechoinginthelargespace,sheturnstome.“It’snotmyjobtoaskquestions,butIhopeyouknowwhatyou’redoing.”
IhopeIknowwhatI’mdoing,too.Confidinginanyone,especiallyanearstranger,isoutofthequestion,though.Instead,Iofferherabrightsmile.“Ido.”
Juliettegivesmealonglookandfinallynods.“Let’sgettoit.”
Shesendsmeintothechangingareawithsixdresses.Ittakesmetenminutestoeliminatefourofthemaspossibilities.Theyallfitperfectly,buttheyjustdon’tfeelrightfortheimageIplanonprojecting.Plentyofpeoplespendyearsdreamingoftheirwedding,andwhenIwasalittlegirl,Iwasnodifferent.
Oncewemovedintothecity,Isetthosedreamsaside.Oh,IalwayshopedI’dendupmarriedoneday,butwitheveryyearthatpassed,therealityofoursituationsankinfurther.TheonlypeopleIcantrustinOlympusaremysisters.Evenmymotherhasherownagenda,andmoreoftenthannot,sheasksforforgivenessinsteadofpermissionwhensheropesusintoherschemes.
Apartofmealwaysdreamedofwalkingdowntheaisletomypartner,ofputtingtogetherasmallbuttastefulweddingofourclosestfriendsandfamily,onethathadnothingtodowiththepressorsocialmediaorthejudgmentofothers.AmarriagethatIchose,ratherthanonesetupforpoliticalgainlikemymotherwants.
Thatdreamhasturnedtoashnow.
Istudytheremainingtwodresses.OneiswhatIwouldhavechosenforthatdreamwedding.It’safittedwhitedressinamermaidstylewithexquisitelaceandbeadingoverthebodiceandhipsandthighsbeforeflaringoutinlayersoftullethatcreateashorttrain.
Theotherisadeepmerlotcolorthat’sbreathtakinglystriking.It’sgotastructuredsweetheartbodicethatdoesimpressivethingsformybreasts.Thefabricgathersonmyrighthipinaburstofsilverroses,theflowersappearingtobesweptalong,withsilverpetalstrailingdownthefullskirt.Tinysleevescreateanoff-the-shoulderlookthatseemsmoredesignedtoshowoffmyshouldersandchestthancoveranythingup.SilverstitchingcreatesaValongthetopofthebodice,finishingthelook.
It’sboldanduntraditional,andeventhoughit’snottherightcolorofred,itstillmakesmefeellikeit’sbeendippedinblood.
Inshort,it’sperfect.
“Juliette.”
Shestepsintothechangingareaandraisesherbrows.“Itwasn’tmyfirstchoicewhenIputtheseoptionstogether,butit’sashowstopper.”
Istareatmyselfinthemirror.Mycoloringallowsmetopulloffawidevarietyofpalettes,butIusuallykeeptoasubtlerneutralwithpopsofbrightness.Alookthatdoesn’tscreamforattentionbutalsoisn’thiding.Noonecanlookatmeinthisdressandseeanythingotherthanastatement.
Chokeonthat,Aphrodite.
“I’lltakeit.”
Juliettenods.“Givemeafewmoments.”Shecirclesme,tuggingthedressinafewplacesandpinningthehemalittlehigher.“Icanhavethisdoneinanhourorso.Doyouwanttowait?”
It’snotagoodideatolingerinthelowercity.Persephonemightbewillingtoletusbehere,butHadesdoesn’tlikeEros,andthere’salwaystheriskhe’lloverridemysisterandrevokehisinvitation.“I’llaskmysistertobringitwhenshecomestonight.”
“Worksforme.”Juliettepinsonelastpieceandnods.“Okay,I’mfinished.Idon’tneedyouanymore.”
Ismile.“Thanksfortherushorderonthis.”
“Don’tthankme.AsItoldEros,Iplanonchargingformydisruptedplans.Triplemygoingratesoundsfair.”
Theamountismorethanalittlestaggering.Ican’tbelieveErosagreedtothat.Idon’tevenreallyrequireaweddinggownforthismarriage,exceptforthefactthatweneedittolookreal.Buthedidn’thavetopayoutforoneofthebestdesignersinOlympustomakeithappen.“Definitelyfair.”
“Also,beforeIforget.”Shepullssomethingoutofherpocket.It’saswatchoffabricthesamecolorasthegown.“Incaseyouneedtofindamatchingpalette.”
“Thankyou.”Suchasmalldetail,butoneIhadn’treallythoughtofinthemidstofthiswhirlwind.“Ireallyappreciateit.”
Idressquicklyandthenheadthroughtheaisleofclothingtothewaitingareasituatedneartheentrance.Erosloungesinoneofthechairs,glaringathisphone.HeglancesupasIapproach,hisblueeyeshard.“Youshouldreallylimitwho’sallowedtocommentonyourshit.Thesepeoplearetoxicasfuckandhavetoomuchtimeontheirhands.”
Ialmostmissastep.I’mnotfoolishenoughtoassumethathe’sexpressingactualconcern.Morelikely,guessingbythecommentsInormallyseeonmyposts,he’spissedbyproxy.We’reaunit,atleastfornow,soaninsultagainstmeisaninsultagainsthim.Ifightforasmile.“Itoldyounottoreadthecomments.”
Herisesandfallsintostepatmyside,movingjustaheadtoopenthedoorforme.IsendaquicktexttoPersephone,confirmingthatshe’sgoodwithferryingthedresstome,whichsheis.Thatdone,weheadbackacrosstheriver.Idon’tmeantobreatheasighofreliefaswecrosstheRiverStyx,butErosshootsmeastrangelookwhenIdo.
Embarrassmentflares.“Iknowit’sjustpartoflivinginOlympus,buttheRiverStyxhasalwayscreepedmeout.”
“You’renotalone.It’sakindofbarrier,areminderofhowisolatedwearefromtherestoftheworld.Thatwouldunsettleanyonewhobrushesagainstit.”Hereachesacrossthemiddleconsoleandsetshishandonmythigh.Istareatit,waitingforsomekindofexplanation,butErosjustkeepsdriving,hisgazeontheroad.
Oh.Right.Thewholegetting-comfortable-touching-each-otherthing.Ican’tdenythatI’mfailingterriblyatthisgoal.It’snoteventhatI’mafraidhe’sgoingtohurtme.Iknowhe’scapableofit,ofcourse,butthat’snottheproblem.
Therealissueisthateverytimehetouchesme,itfeelslikehe’shookedmeuptoalivewire.Icanbeagreatactresswhenthesituationcallsforit,butIhaven’tmanagedtoactnaturalasingletimewe’vemadecontact.It’ssomethingthegossipsiteswillglomontowithouthesitation—someoutofspite,someoutofcuriosity.Neitherisgoodforus.
OrmaybeI’mlookingforanexcusetotakesomethingImostcertainlyshouldn’twant.
Islowly,hesitantly,placemyhandonEros’s.Itfeelslikehispalmscorchesmethroughmyjeans,likehisfingersaremakingimprintsagainstmyskineventhoughhe’snotgrippingmeatall.I’machinglyawarethathe’safewshortinchesfromtheapexofmythighs,andit’severythingIcandonottoclenchmylegstogether.I’veneverbeenaffectedbysomeonelikethis.Idon’tknowifit’sthedangerheighteningmydesireorthesimplefactthatIshouldn’twantthisman,almosthusbandorno.
“You’resotense,you’repracticallyvibratingoutofyourseat.”
Thecommentstings.“I’mdoingmybest.”
Histoneismild.Hiswordsaren’t.“Yourbestisn’tgoodenough.Wehavemerehourstomakethiswork.Asenjoyableasitistokissyoueverytimeyoustartspiraling,youhavetobeabletohandlemetouchingyou.”
Ahotfeelingflaresacrossmyface,butIcan’ttellifit’sshameordesire.“I’mawareofthat.”
Erostakestheturntohisblockandthenagainintotheparkinggarage.“Theofferstillstands.”
Noneedtoaskforclarification.There’sonlyoneofferonthetablerightnow,andit’soneImostdefinitelyshouldn’taccept.Istaredownatthewayhishandlooksonmythigh.Broadpalm,bluntfingers,perfectlymaintainednails.It’sashandsomeastherestofhim,buttherearecallusesonhispalm.Asmallexternalindicatorthathe’snotentirelyasheseems.
Theheatsuffusingmyfaceflareshotter,lower.ItfeelslikeEroshassuckedoutalltheairinthecar,andhehasn’tevendoneanything.TheonlytimeI’vefeltthisdiscombobulatedwaswhenIheldhandswithJennyLeeinseventhgrade.Hotandclammyanddesperatelynotwantingtodoanythingtomakethecontactcease.Ithadn’tendedwellformethen;I’ddredgedupallmybraveryandleanedintokissher,onlytodiscovershewasholdingmyhandasafriend.
Erosdoesn’twanttobefriendswithme,butthesensationofwalkingatightropeoverapitofcrocodilesisidentical.Onewrongmove,andhumiliationwillbetheleastofmyworries.
Heparksandweclimboutofthecar.Erosallowsmetograbonesuitcase,buthetakestheotherandthelightingequipment.He’sgotastrangelookonhisface,butIdon’tknowhimwellenoughtorecognizeifit’sjustadefaultdistantexpressionorifsomething’sactuallybotheringhim.Helocksthedoortohispenthousebehindusandleadsmedownthehallwaytooneofthedoorswepassedthenightbefore.
Itopensintoaperfectlynicesparebedroomdecoratedincoolgraytones.Aking-sizedbedtakesuponewallandtherearetwodoorsontheoppositesideoftheroom,leadingtoadecent-sizedwalk-inclosetandabathroomthatisonlyslightlysmallerthanthemasterbath.And,ofcourse,there’sagiantmirrorinbetweenthedoors,reflectingourimagesbackatus.
Erossetsmystuffonthebed,andIfollowsuit.Heturnstome.“Youcanhavethesparebedroom.”
Reliefhasmeweavingonmyfeet.Itwasonethingtosleepnexttohimlastnight,butIcanbarelycomprehenddoingiteverynight.“Thankthegods.”
Eros’slipscurve,butit’snotanicesmile.“Don’tmisunderstand.Youcanputyourshitinthesparebedroom.Makeitasclutteredasyouwantit,butkeepitconfinedtohere.That’stheonlythingstayinginthesparebedroom.”
Myrelieffizzlesoutlikeadeflatedballoon.Iwanttoyellathim,whichispreciselywhyIcan’t.It’sjustprovingthatI’mnotpreparedtodothisalltheway.Damnit.Ihavetodothis100percent.IthoughtIcouldcutcorners,buttoday’sproventhat’sanimpossibleask.There’sonlyonesolution.
Iglanceatmyphone.It’snearlyone.“Whattimeisthejewelergettinghere?”
“Two.”
“Plentyoftime,then.”Iwalkoutofthespareroomanddownthehalltothemaster.I’machinglyawareofErosshadowingmysteps,andwhenIglanceovermyshoulder,Ifindhisgazeonmyass.Strangely,thatgivesmetheconfidenceIneedtopullmyshirtovermyhead.“Let’sdothis.”
Hestopsshort.“I’mgoingtoneedyoutoelaborate.”
Istartunbuttoningmyjeans.Thiswouldbealotlessawkwardifhewasstripping,too,ratherthanstaringatmeasifI’dsproutedasecondhead.“Youwereright,Iwaswrong.Weneedtoripthebandageoff,andweneedtodoitnow.Solet’stradeorgasmsandbedonewiththissowecanconvincepeoplewe’rearealcouple.”13
Eros
Idon’tknowwhatchangedontheridebacktomyplace,butnowIunderstandwhatPsychewassilentlychewingon.Shepeelsoffherjeans,leavingonlyapairoflacepantiesandanudebra.Thesightofherstealsmybreath.Shedoesn’thavethePhotoshopfinishthatsomanypeopleinOlympuschase;she’sgotcurvesandascatteringofstretchmarksandanassIwanttotakeabiteoutof.Holyfuck,thisisactuallyhappening.
Still…
Iclearmythroat,concentratingonholdingmypositionandnotlungingatherlikeafuckinganimal.“Justthismorning,yousaiditwasn’tnecessary.”
“Iknow.”Sheshrugsandtwistsalockofherdarkhairaroundherfinger.“Look,thetruthisthatIdon’tseparatesexandemotionsallthatwell.TheverylastthingIwantisanemotionalentanglementwithyou.Itwouldmakeanalreadymessysituationmessier,andneitherofusneedsthat.”
Noreasonforthattosting.Noreasonatall.Thisismerelyabusinessarrangement,ifoneshedidn’tenterintovoluntarily.It’sonlyreasonablethatshedoesn’twanttobecomeemotionallyentangledwithme.
That,andthefactthatI’mafuckingmonster.
Itakeonestepintothebedroomandclosethedoorsoftlybehindme.“Whatareyouproposing?”
“Aone-timething.”Shereachesbehindherforherbrahookandhesitates.“Trialbyfireandallthat.”
“Icanassureyouthatitwillfeelbetterthanatrialbyfire.”Imovetowardherslowly.Ialreadyknowoncewon’tbeenoughforme—notbyalongshot.Shewon’tthankmeforsayingasmuch,though.Psychefeelsthechemistry,too.Ifshedidn’t,shewouldn’tmeltformeeverytimeIkissher.Onthatnote…“Kissingremainsonthetableforthefuture.”
Sheopenshermouthlikeshewantstoarguebutfinallyshrugs.“You’reright.You’vebeenphotographedmultipletimeswithyourtonguedownsomeone’sthroat,sothey’llexpectyoutodothesamewithme.”
Thatslowsmedownalittle.“Howcloselydidyoufollowgossipaboutmebeforethis?”
“AscloselyasIfollowgossipabouteverypersoninOlympuswhomightbecomeathreatsomeday.”
It’snotquiteananswer,butwehaveplentyoftimeformetodigintothatlater.NoreasontothinkshespentthelasttwoweeksdoingadeepdiveonmeandmyhistoryandscouringthegossipsitesfortidbitsaboutmethesamewayIdidabouther.Rightnow,IhaveanearlynakedPsychestandinginfrontofmybed.Onlyafoolwouldpassupthisopportunity.Iclosethedistancebetweenusintwogreatstrides,stoppingjustshortoftouchingher.Shedoesn’tflinchawaythistime.Shesimplyunfastensherbraandletsitdroptothefloor.
Iallowmyselftolookfirst.Psycheisafinewine,andlikeanyfinewine,Iplantoenjoyherinstages.She’sfuckinggorgeous—gorgeousenoughtomakeAphroditejealous,whichisn’taneverydayoccurrence.Ipushthatthoughtawaybeforeitcanruinmymood.Instead,Ifocusonthewomanstandingbeforeme.Sheholdsperfectlystillandletsmelookmyfill,asifthat’ssomethingIcanaccomplishinthehourwehaveavailabletous.
Anothertime,Ipromisemyself.Anothertime,whenwehavemorehoursathand,I’llconvincehertostandbeforemelikethisandletmelookaslongasIwant.
Isiftmyfingersthroughhermassofdarkhair,brushingitbackandoutoftheway.HerbreathcatchesasIcoastmythumbovertheslopeofhershoulder,andsheshiversalittle.“Wedon’thavemuchtime.”
“Wehaveasmuchtimeasweneed,”Imurmur,continuingmypathdownherarm,allthewaytoherwrist.Herskinissofuckingsoft,Iwanttofollowthepathwithmymouth.Instead,Ibringherhandupandplaceitonmyshoulder.ThenIrepeattheprocesswithherotherarmandhand.
“Eros.”Hervoicehasgoneragged.“Stopteasingmeandtouchme.”
Anotherday…
Butthisisn’tanotherday.ImighthavecountlesswaysI’dliketoplayoutaseductionofPsycheDimitriou,butthetruthisthatweareonlimitedtimeandIhavetoproceedaccordingly.
Icupherbigbreasts,nearlygroaningatthewaytheyoverfillmypalms.HernipplesareaprettydarkpinkandIcan’tdenymyselfanylonger.Ibenddownandcaptureonewithmymouth.
Shewhimpersandthenherhandsareinmyhair.IdoubtPsychewilleveradmitit,butIthinkshelikesmycurls.Shesureasfucklikestousethemhasahandholdatthefirstopportunityshegets.
Iswitchtoherothernipple,playingwithheruntilshe’sshakinginmyarmsandarchingtomeetmymouth.Psychetasteslikeagodsdamneddream.Shealsosmellslikeafuckingcookie.Ipressmynosetoherskinandinhale.“Yousmellsogood,Iwanttoeatyouup.”
“Howverycannibalofyou.”She’stoobreathytomakethecommentasdryassheobviouslyintends.“It’smylotion.It’s—”
Ilookupather.“Psyche.”
Shenibblesherbottomlip.“Yes?”
“Idon’tfuckingcarewhatkindoflotionyouuse.”Iurgeherthelaststeptothebedandguideherdownontoherback.Slowly.Ihavetomoveslowly,becauseifIsnapmyleash,I’mgoingtobeinsideherintwosecondsandthat’snotwhatIwantforthis.Ineverhavecontrolissues.Never.EveryseductionI’veeverenactedisacarefullychoreographeddancebetweenmeandmypartner—orpartners.Ineverfallonthemlikeabeastintentonravishing.
AbeastIcanfeelhowlinginsideme.
I’mactuallyindangeroffalteringnow,whenitmattersthemost.
That’swhyIgotomykneesnexttothebedinsteadofjoiningherthere.Thisisbetter.Safer.Nomatterwhatshesaidearlier,Idon’tintendforthistobeaone-off.PsychemakesasurprisedsoundbutIignoreit,focusingoneasingherpantiesdownherlegs.Herthighsshake,asifshe’snotsurewhethershewantstoclosethemoropenwide
“I’dratherwejustgottoit.”
Ialmostlaugh.MightlaughifIwasn’tdyingforatasteofher.“I’vechangedmymind.”
Psychetugsonmyhair.“Getuphere.”
“We’renothavingsexrightnow.”Ican’ttrustmyselftogotherewithher,notlikethis,notrightnow.Notwhenmyhandsareshaking,andit’severythingIcandotoholdmyselfback.Shedeservesflowersandromanceandmoreorgasmsthanshecancount.Shedoesn’tdeservetobeshoveddownontothemattressandravishedbyafuckingbeast.
Idon’tknowifI’mcapableofgivingherwhatshedeserves.
No,that’salie.IalreadyknowI’mdestinedtofailifthat’smygoal.AllevidencepointstoPsycheandIexistinginentirelydifferentrealms.Eveninthis.Especiallyinthis.Shesaidshehastroubleseparatingsexandemotions.Ican’tthinkofasingletimesexhasmademefeelanythingbutphysicalpleasure.
Iamgoingtofuckthisup.
“Eros,please.”
“Psyche.”Ipressmyforeheadtohersoftstomachandexhaleshakily.“Justletmemakeyoufeelgoodforalittlebit.Please.”
“Ifyouwantto,Iguess—”HerwordsmorphintoathroatymoanasIleandownanddragtheflatofmytongueoverherpussy.
Fuckme.Shetastesevenbetterherethanshedoeseverywhereelse.Islidemyhandsupherlegsandgripherthighs,pushingthemwider.More.Ineedsomuchmore…
Idragmyselfbackfromtheedgeintimetograbmyphone.Psychepropsherselfuponherelbowsandlooksdownherbodyatme.DoessheliketheviewfromupthereasmuchasIlikeitfromdownhere?Hardtosay.Shefrowns.“Whatareyoudoing?”
“Settingatimer.”
Sheblinks.“Why?”
“BecauseI’mabouttogetdistractedeatingyououtandIdon’twanttomakethejewelerwait.”
Anotherofthoseslow,shockedblinks.“Eros,thejewelerwon’tbehereforfortyminutes.”
“Iknow.”Icursesoftly.“It’snotnearlyenoughtime.”
Thenthere’snomoretimefortalking.IwanttofeelhercomingallovermyfaceandIwantitnow.Psycheisstubborn,soIwanttomakethissogood,she’llforgetwhyshetriedtoputalimitonthis.Orthat’stheplan.
Anyplangoesrightoutthewindowatmysecondtasteofher.Shetenses,butthenseemstogiveherselfovertosensation.Betweenonebreathandthenext,herlegsfallopenandshehasherhandsinmyhairagain.Givingherselftome.Trustingmetomakeherfeelgood.It’saheadyfeelingtohaveallofPsycheatmydisposal.
IwatchhercloselyasIworkherwithmytongue,exploringherslowlywhileIfigureoutwhatshelikes.She’snotquietaboutwhatsheenjoys,whichisadelighttodiscover.ShehasnoproblemtuggingonmyhairtoguidemetoherclitormoaningandwhimperingwhenIlandonaslowverticalstrokewiththeflatofmytongue.Ikeepdoingit,buildingheruptoanorgasmthathashershakinganddamnnearrippingmyhairoutofmyhead.Irelishthesting,theclearlossofcontrol.
IkeepmygazeonherflushedbodyasImovedowntopepperlightkissesandlovebitesonherinnerthighs.She’scompletelyrelaxedrightnow,butIstillhavetimeleftandnointerestinstoppinguntilthealarmsounds.Iworkmywaybackupherthighs,intensifyingmytouch,andthenliftmyheadsoIcanpartherpussywithmyfingers.
She’ssowet,Ihavetotightenthechainonmycontrol.Iwantin,wantitsobadI’mshakingmorethanshedidwhenshecameallovermyface.Mycockispainfullyhard,andI’mnotevenremotelyashamedtohaveasmallwetspotonthefrontofmypantsfromthepre-come.OfcourseIdo.Thiswomanhitsallofmybuttons.It’dbesoeasytoreachdownandundomypants,towrapmyfistaroundmycockandjackmyself.
ToobadIdon’ttrustmyselfenoughtodoit,nomatterthereliefitwouldbring.Ihavetokeepmypantson.Noexceptions.
Ilickmylips,tastingherthere,andpushtwofingersintoherpussy.Shegaspsandarchesherback,andInearlyorgasmonthespotfromthewaysheclampsaroundme.Andthenitdoesn’tmatterbecauseshe’scomingagain,milkingmyfingersinawayI’dkilltohavehermilkmycock.
Soon.
ThealarmgoesofflongbeforeI’mreadytostop,butImanagetoliftmyhead.Icrawlupherbodyandcatchhermouth.SheclingstomeasIkissher,andforamoment,Iactuallyconsiderignoringthealarmtokeepthisgoing.
No.Damnit,no.Wehaveaplan;wehavetosticktoit.Toomuchisridingonuspullingthisoffforustoletlustgetthebestofusbeforewe’reabletoactuallyspeakourvows.Reluctantly,Ibreakthekiss.
Psychemakesasoundofprotestandtriestopullmebackdowntoher.“More.”
“Thejeweler.”
Shegoesstill.It’samazingtoseeherpullherselftogether,puttingawayherdesireandfocusingontheendgame.Herbodytensesandthenrelaxes.Hergriponmyhairloosens.Shecan’tquitebanishtheheavy-liddedlookfromhereyes,butshemanagestosmoothoutherexpressionabit.Slowly,ohsoslowly,sheremovesherfingersfrommyhair
“Yes.”
Shelicksherlips.“Thenyoushouldprobablygetoffme.”
It’sonlythenthatIrealizeI’mstillpressingherintothemattress.Shecradlesmebetweenherthighs,herheelslockedatthesmallofmyback.“Ifyouwantmetogetoffofyou,youshouldprobablyreleaseme.”
Ilikethewaysheblushes.Ilikeitalot.
Itstilltakesfartoomuchcontroltomoveoffher,andthenitonlygetsworsebecauseIcanseeheragain.IfanormalPsycheisatemptationI’llneverbeabletoresist,apleasure-satedPsycheislikemainliningthemostaddictivedrugontheplanet.Iwantheragain,assoonaspossible,asmanytimesaswecanmanagebeforeourbodiesgiveout.
Itakeastepback,andthenanother.“I’mgoingtochange.”
“Goodidea,”shesaysfaintly,hergazeonthefrontofmypants.“Ishouldgetdressed.”
“Yes.”
Westareateachotherforalongmoment,thetensionbuildingintoanalmostvisiblething.Itfeelslikeshe’shookedamagnetuptomygut—or,moreaccurately,mycock—andit’spullingmeinherdirectionevennow.Webreakatthesametime,meheadingfortheclosetandPsychedartingoutthedoorinthedirectionofthesparebedroom.
It’sonlyonceIchangeintocleanclothingandhavemyshitputbacktogetherthatIcanadmitthetruth.Shemightnotwanttogetentangled,butit’sprettydamnclearthatIalreadyam.I’veneverbeenthatclosetolosingcontrolbefore,notwithanyofmyotherpartners.Butthen,she’sprovenagainandagainintheshorttimewe’vespenttogetherthatPsycheDimitriouisn’tlikeanyoneelseinOlympus.Nowondermymotherwantedtoextinguishherbrightlight.She’ssmartandsavvyandfartoogoodforamanlikeme.
Idon’tgiveafuck.
Aftertonight,she’smineintruth.14
Psyche
Aftertwoworld-shatteringorgasmsinquicksuccession,therestofthedaygoesbyfartooquickly,thehoursslippingawayasErosandIgeteverythinginorder,untilit’stimetogetreadyfortheceremony.
Formyweddingceremony.
Persephonearriveswithbothmydressandhergloweringhusband.Hadesisratherattractive—atallwhitemanwithdarkhair,darkeyes,andareallynicebeard—buttheonlypersonheseemstosmileatismysister,andhisdo-not-fuck-with-mevibeisenoughtokeepeveryoneatadistance.HelovesPersephonetodistraction,andthat’senoughforme.Hedoesn’thavetobeacuddlyteddybearaslongasshe’shappy.Andshereally,reallyis.
It’stoobadIdon’thavethesamefateaheadofmewithmyveryownmonsterofaman.
Eroshasdisappeared,sayingsomethingaboutgettingsomelast-minutedetailsinplace.He’spromisedmethatAphroditeisstillensconcedinherspaweekend—heevencalledtocheckinwithherassistantearlier—butIcan’thelpworryingthatshe’llshowupintimetoputastoptothiswholecharade.ButItrustEros,atleastinthis.
WhenAphroditecheckssocialmediaafterherweekendaway,therewillbeconsequences,andtheywillcomedownonEros’sshoulders.Ican’thelpfeeling…badforhim.
Mymotherwon’tbeanyhappierwhenshefindsoutaboutthishastymarriage.Imightnotknowthedetailsofherplansforme,buttheydon’tincludeamarriagetoEros.That’sfordamnsure.Evenshecan’tfightitoncewe’relegallyboundtogether.Butoncesheworksthroughheranger?She’llalreadybeexaminingtheanglesforhowshecanspinthesituationtobenefither.
Onthesurface,ourmothersaren’tthatdifferent.Botharepowerfulandambitiousandruthlesstoafault.
Thedifference?
MymothermighttrytomovemearoundlikeapawnonthechessboardthatisOlympus,butsheactuallylovesme.Shewon’tletlovegetinthewayofpower,butshealsowouldn’texpectmetoshowupforapartyafterbeingcutupandthenbefuriousbecauseIwaslate.
Andtherewastheshell-shockedlookonEros’sfacewhenhestudiedthephotosofmeandmysistersinthepenthouse.It’spossiblethatI’mcompletelyoffthemarkandprojecting,buthelookedalmostflabbergastedathowhappywewereinthosephotos.Mychildhoodwasn’tperfect—Demeterisadifficultmothertohave,evenunderthemostidealcircumstances—butIhadmysistersandwewerehappyalotofthetime.Itwasn’tfeignedinthosephotos.
Whatmustithavebeenliketogrowupwithamotherwhoonlysawhimasatooltobeexploitedandnothingelse?
Igivemyselfashake.I’mprojecting.Ihavetobe.NomatterhowmuchIhateAphrodite,surelyI’mnotseeingthewholepicture.Shemustloveherson,evenifshedemandssuchhorrificthingsfromhim.
Right?
“Psyche?Wedon’thavemuchtime.”
Ipushmywaywardworriesawayandfocusonmysister.“You’reright.Let’sgetthisstarted.”
WeleaveHadesinthelivingroom,studyingtheplacelikehe’sagenerallookingoverabattlefield,andretreattothesparebedroomtogetmeready.PersephonekeepstheconversationlightasshepinsmyhairupinanartfulstyleandIputmymakeupon,butwhenit’stimetoreachforthedress,shehesitates.“IknowI’veaskedyouthisalready,butareyousure?”
No.Notevenalittlebit.Iwasn’tsurebeforethisafternoon,butnowthatI’vehadEros’smouthalloverme,Ifeelrattledrightdowntomybones.“Yes.”
Mysistersnorts.“Iknewbetterthantoask.”
“Hey,let’snotthrowstones.Itwasonlyacouplemonthsagothatyoushackedupwithamaneveryonethoughtwasalegendandrefusedtoletmehelpyou.”
Sheliftsherchin.“Thatwasdifferent.”
“Maybe,butItrustedyoutoknowwhatyouweredoing.Youpromisedtogivemethesamebenefitofthedoubt.”
Forasecond,Ithinkshemightkeeparguing,butshefinallysighs.“Ireallydon’tliketheshoebeingontheotherfoot.”
“It’shardtostandbyandletpeopleyoucareabouttakerisks.”
Shegivesmeabittersweetsmile.“Whendidyougetsosmart?”
“Ihavetwoprettygreatoldersistersasrolemodels.”Mythroatgoestight,andIhavetoturnawayorI’mgoingtocryandruinmymakeup.Thismightnotbetheweddingofmydreams,butI’llensureit’sabelievableone.Idropmyrobeandstepintothegown,turningsomysistercanfastentheback.
“Thisisreallygorgeous.NotwhatIexpectedyou’dchoose,butit’sperfect.”Shedoesmeupquickly,hervoicethick.“Youlooklikeagoddess.”
“Maybeanymph.”
Shelaughs.“Youalwaysdothat.Iftoday’syourwedding,thenyouwilldamnwellbelievethatyoulooklikeagoddess.”
There’snopointinarguing.ThetruthisthatIdolookgood,andIdidchoosethisdresswiththeintentionofmakingastatement.It’sfartoolatetochangemymindaboutthis,justlikeit’sfartoolatetochangemymindabouttheweddingitself.“You’reright.Ilooklikeagoddess.”
“Thereyougo.”Shelooksaway.“There’sonemorething.”
Alarmsblareinmyhead.PersephonemightnotbeasconfrontationalasCallisto,butshe’smorethanabletoholdherown.Forhertobeexudingguiltrightnow…Thiswon’tbegood.“Whatdidyoudo?”
“Don’tbemad.”
“Persephone,”Isayslowly,grabbingpatiencewithbothhands.“Ican’tpromiseyouthatIwon’tbemaduntilyoutellmewhatyou’vedone.”
“I,ah,mighthavementionedthiseventatbrunch.”
Atbrunch.
Withourmother
“Tellmeyoudidn’t.”
She’sgotthatlookonherfaceagain,thestubbornonethatsaysI’llneverwinthisargument.“Ifanyonecanunderstandpoliticalmaneuvering,it’sourmother.Giveherthebenefitofthedoubt.”
Istareather.IstareatherlongenoughthatPersephonehasthegracetoblushandlookguilty.“Giveherthebenefitofthedoubt?”Irepeat.“That’squitethestatementcomingfromyou.YouknowwhatshedidinanattempttoremoveyoufromHades’sgrasp.Doyoureallythinkshe’llbeanylessruthlesswhenitcomestome?”
“Thatwasadifferentsituation.”
“Youkeepsayingthat.Ikeepnotbelievingyou.”IstarttoreachtotwistmyhairbutstopbeforeImakecontact.“ShewastryingtointroducemetoZeus.”
“What?”
“EvenifMothercanappreciatepoliticalmaneuvering,shehadplansforme.”PlansIwasn’tentirelyopposedto,evenifIwasn’tthrilledaboutthem.“Inhereyes,Erosisgoingtobeadowngrade.”Thewordsfeelalittlelikeabetrayal,butthatdoesn’tmakesense.IfIwasn’tforcedintoachoicebetweendeathandmarriagetotheman,Ineverwouldhaveconsentedtohisringonmyfinger.
Right?
“Psyche,I—”
Aknockonthedoorinterruptsus,andit’sjustaswell.Igiveheronelastglareandturninthatdirection.“Yes?”
“Weneedtotalk.”
Eros.
Gods,Ihatehowmyheartbeatpicksupjusthearinghisvoice.ImovetowardthedoorevenasItellmyselftoplantmyfeet.“It’sbadlucktoseethebridebeforethewedding.”
“Neitherofusisthesuperstitioustype.”Helowershisvoice.“Openthedoor,Psyche.”
Iignoremysister’shuffofdispleasureanddoexactlythat.Foramoment,allIcandoisstandthereandstarelikeafool.He’swearingatuxthathighlightshisgoldenskinandblondhair.
Iwanttotearitoffwithmyteeth.
Holycrap,wheredidthatthoughtcomefrom?
I’msoshockedatmyselfthatIdon’ttenseashestepsintotheroomandslideshisarmsaroundmywaist.“Youlookdivine.”
“Youtoo.”Isounddistantandstrange,butI’mfightingsohardtokeepmygriponhimlightandnotwrinklethefabricofhisshirt.“What’sgoingon?”
HesmilesatPersephone.Evenknowingit’sanact,Ican’thelpbeingdrawnintohisaww-shucksexpression.“IfIcouldhaveamomentalonewithmywife?”
“She’snotyourwifeyet.”
Erosstaresatmysisterforamoment.“You’reprotectiveofher.Iunderstand,but—”
“Doyouunderstand?”Persephonedrawsherselfup.She’sneverlookedmorelikeaqueenthanshedoesinthismoment.Morelikeourmother.“Youdon’thavesiblings,Eros.I’mnotevensureyouhavefriends.Doyoureallyunderstandwhatit’sliketocareaboutsomeonesomuch,you’llburnthecitydownifthey’rehurt?”
“That’senough.”Theybothlookatme,andit’severythingIcandotokeepmyvoiceeven.Mysisterisn’twrongtobeprotectiveofme,butifthiswasarealrelationship,Iwouldneverlethertalktomypartnerlikethat.“That’senough,”Irepeat.
“Ijustwantyouhappy.”
“Thensupportmeinthis.”
Shehesitatesforsolong,Ithinkshemightcontinuearguing,butfinallyPersephonesqueezesmyshoulderandmovespastusoutoftheroom.
Erosreleasesmeoncethedoorisshut,andeventhenitseemsreluctant.Atleasthedropsthehappygroomact.“Yoursisterdoesn’tlikeme.”
“Areyoureallysurprised?”
“No.”Hegiveshimselfalittleshakeandrefocuses.“Ico-optedaroomdownstairs.It’snormallyusedfor…Well,Ihonestlydon’tknowwhatit’susedfor,butit’soursfortheweddingceremony.”
“Okay.”Hedidn’tneedtokickmysisteroutinordertotellmethat.“Whatelse?”
“Mymothercalled.”Hesaysitsoneutrally,IhalfthinkImisheard.
Ijerkbackastep.“What?Ithoughtyousaidshewasstillatthespa.”
“Apparentlysomewell-meaningsoulmanagedtogetincontactwithher.She’stoofarawaytostopit,butsheknows.”Hismouthtwists.“Sheleftacolorfulvoicemail.”
“Letmehearit.”
Heshakeshishead.“That’snotnecessary.”
“Idon’tcareifit’snecessaryornot,Eros.Eitherwe’refullpartnersinthischaradeorwe’renotandthere’snopointingettingmarried.”Imakemyselfholdhisgaze.“Letmehearthevoicemail.”
Foralongmoment,Ithinkhe’llkeeparguing,buthefinallysighsandpullsouthisphone.“It’snotpretty.”
Itakehisphoneandpullupthevoicemail.MyhandsareshakingasIpushthePlaybutton.ImmediatelyAphrodite’svoicepermeatestheroom.Foronce,shedoesn’tsoundsweetlypoisonous.She’stoofurious.
“Whatpartof‘Bringmeherheart’didyounotunderstand,Eros?WhyamIhearingthatyou’regoingtomarrythewoman?”Shedrawsinaharshbreath.“Ithoughtyoucouldfollowsimpleorders,butapparentlyeventhat’sbeyondyou.Itmustbethat,becauseIknowyou’renottryingtoplaywhiteknighttoherdamselindistress.You’renotcapableofit.”
IflickalooktoEros,buthe’sgothisfacearrangedinanunreadablemask.
Onthephone,Aphrodite’svoiceisvibratingwithrage.“Iwaswillingtodothistheniceway,outofrespectforyouobviouslyhavingasoftspotforthegirl,butyou’vespitinmyface.She’llpaytheprice.Yourbluffaboutmarryingherisn’tcute,andnowshe’sgoingtosufferforit.Beforetheend,she’llbescaredandaloneandinpain,anditwillbeyourfault.”
Mychestistootight.Thereisn’tenoughairintheroom.Imarchtothewindow,intentonwrestlingitopen,onlytofindthatitdoesn’topenatall.“Whatthefuck?”
“Psyche.”Erostakesthephonebackandthencatchesmyhands,bringingthemtohischest.“Iwon’tletmymotherharmyou.”
Igiveaharshlaugh.Ithurtsmythroat—ormaybethat’sjustthetightnesstherethatisn’tdissipating.“Ithinkwe’vemorethanestablishedthatyoucan’tcontrolyourmother.”
“Shewon’tharmyou,”herepeats.“Ipromise.Aftertonight,itwillbeamootpoint.You’llbebeyondhergrasp.”
Ishouldn’tbelievehim.Alltheseyearssurvivinginthiscutthroatcity,andI’veneverhadanissuewithkeepingmyemotionsincheck.TheonlytimeIletdownmywallsisaroundmysisters,andeventhennotalwaysentirely.They’redealingwiththeirownstuff,afterall.We’vetakenturnsproppingoneanotherupwhenthesituationgetstough.
Trustingsomeoneoutsidethattinycircleisunthinkable.
Erosisn’tpromisingtopreventhismotherfromkillingmeoutofthegoodnessofhisheart.Itwouldn’tfurtherourmutualgoalsifshemanagedtodosomethingtostopthewedding.He’sinvestedinmarryingme,andifIdon’tfullyunderstandhisreasoning,Icanatleasttrustthatit’swhathewants.Thatknowledgeshouldcomfortme,butitringshollow.
“Ibelieveyou.”Iclearmythroat.“Isupposenow’sagoodtimetotellyouthatPersephonetoldmymotherabouttheweddingandshewillbeattending.”
Erosstaresatmealongmoment,andthenhethrowshisheadbackandalaughboomsforth.Thesoundsurprisesmesomuch,Ijump,buthe’stoobusylaughinghisassofftonotice.Heactuallyhastowrapanarmaroundhiswaisttomaintainhisuprightposition.
Icrossmyarmsandwaithimout.“Byallmeans,getitoutofyoursystemnow.”
Tohiscredit,hedoesn’tmakemewaitlong.Hestraightensandshakeshishead.“We’regoingtohavetoupourgametostayonestepaheadofourmothers.Thisshouldbeinteresting.”
“Interesting.That’sonewaytoputit.”
Erosmovestothedoor,buthestopsbeforeopeningit.“Trustme.”
“Inthis,Ido.”It’salmostthetruth.Ican’taffordtoleanonEros,can’taffordtoassumeourendgamesmatchup.ButIcantrustthatheisasinvestedingettingthismarriageoffthegroundasIam,fakerelationshiporno
Hegivesmeaslowsmile,heatslippingintohiseyes.“And,Psyche?ImeantitwhenIsaidyoulookdivine.Iwanttoeatyourightup.Again.”HeslipsoutthedoorbeforeIcanformulatearesponse.
Whatistheretosay?
I’vealreadyestablishedthatErosisaconsummateliarandthat’she’scolddowntohisverysoul.Itdoesn’tmatterhowwarmhiseyesgetwhentheylookatme,howintoxicatinghissmile.Ican’ttrustit.
Itdidn’tfeelfakewhenhehadhismouthonmeearlier,though.Whenhishandsshookashegrippedmythighsandhisvoicewentroughandlow.Inthatmoment,itfeltlikehewantedmejustasmuchasIwanthim.More,even,becausehedidn’tseemtobefightinghisreaction.
Alie.Ithastobealie.Weneededtoripthebandageoff,sothat’swhatwedid.IfIstilldesirehim,there’salogicalconclusionastowhy.Adrenalineandpheromones.Aphysicalresponseisnormalundertheseless-than-normalconditions.That’sall.
I’vealmostmanagedtoconvincemyselfthatit’sthetruthbythetimeIstepintotheelevatortotakemedowntotheroomEroshasclaimedfortheevent.Persephoneisatmyside,andshe’sdoingthebeaming-sunshinethingshedoeswheneverwehavetodealwiththeThirteen.Itrytodrawmyselfin,topusheverythingthatmatterstomedowndeepandlockitawaysothatnothingthathappenstonightcanhurtme.
Itry…andIfail.
HowcanIlockeverythingawaywhenI’monegiantexposednerverightnow?IknowIhavetodothis,butexpectationsabouttheweddingIalwayswantedarecrashingagainsttherealityofthismoment,andithurtssomuchmorethanIexpected.Itfeelsawholelotlikegrief.
Theelevatordoorsslidesoundlesslyopen,revealingalonghallwaythatreeksofmoneyforallthatit’sgonethesameminimalistroutethatEros’spenthouseleanstoward.Brushedconcretefloorsgleaminthebrightlight,andthewallsarepaintedgunmetalgray.Itmightfeellikewalkingthroughanexpensiveprisonifnotforthemirrors.
Theylinethehallwayoneitherside,stretchingnearlyfromthefloortothenine-footceiling.Wroughtironandshiningsilvercreatetheframes,andIhavethenear-hystericalthoughtthatifIpressedmyhandagainstone,itwouldgivewayandI’dendupinanotherworldentirely.
Whatisitwiththisbuildingandmirrors?
Halfwaydownthehall,adooropensandmymotherstepsout.She’sdressedinanelegantgownthatcoversherslimbodyfromnecktowriststoankles,andthesilverandstructureinthebodiceandhipsgivetheimpressionofarmor.She’stwistedherdarkhair,sosimilartomine,backfromherfaceandhermakeupis,asalways,flawless.
IttakeseveryounceofcourageIhavetokeepwalkingnexttomysisteruntilwestandbeforeDemeter.Shesurveysmefromheadtotoeandbackupagain.“Ifyouwantedtomakeastatement,you’vesucceededwiththatdress.”
Persephonegivesmyhandasqueeze.“I’llseeyouinside.”Sheslipsthroughthedoor,leavingmetofaceDemeteralone.Coward.Butthen,Iwasalwaysgoingtofacemymotheraloneinthis.Ichosethispath,wasforcedtochoosethispathbecauseIwasn’tgoodenoughtooutmaneuverAphrodite.
Thistime.
“Mother—”
Sheliftsahandandshakesherhead.“Wearedueforadiscussion,butnothere.You’resetonmarryingEros?”
Somethinglikereliefcoursesthroughme.NomatterwhatelseistrueofDemeter,she’snotonetowasteavaluableasset.MymarryingErosgivesheradirectlinetoAphrodite,or,rather,adirectwaytoconstantlyneedleandunderminetheotherwoman.Shemighthavelearnedherlessonaboutsellingherdaughtersintomarriagewithouttheirknowledge—andthat’saratherlargemight—butifoneofusisfoolishenoughtostumbleintoamarriagewithapowerfulperson,she’shardlygoingtostopit.“Yes,I’msetonit.”
“Thenlet’sgo.”Shepivotstofacethedoorandholdsoutherelbow.“I’llbedamnedbeforeanyofmydaughterswalkdowntheaislealone.”
Wedon’treallytalkaboutmyfather—aboutanyofourfathers.Threemarriagesresultinginfourdaughters,andeveryoneofourfathersdisappearedoffthefaceoftheearthwithinweeksofthedivorce.Or,rather,theydisappearedoutofOlympus.Ifnotfortheratheractivesocialmediaaccountsofherex-husbands,mymothermighthaveareputationasablackwidow.Asitis,mysistersandIareprettydamncertainshepaidoffourfathersandensuredtheyfoundawayoutofOlympus.
IsupposeIcouldblameherformynothavingafatherfigure,butthetruthisthatmymothernevergoeswithastickwhenacarrotwillworkjustfine.Myfatherchosetotakehermoney,takepassageoutofOlympus,andneverlookback.WhywouldImournthelossofsuchaselfishmaninmylife?
So,yes,it’sentirelyaptthatmymotherbetheonetowalkmedowntheaisleandgivemeawaytomynewhusband.
Islidemyhandintothecrookofherarm.“Thankyou,Mother.”
“Youaremydaughter,Psyche.Morethantheothers,youaretheapplethatdoesn’tfallfarfrommytree.Itrustthatyouhaveareasonfordoingthis.”Sheshootsmeaseverelook.“Youshouldhavetoldme.Wecouldhavenegotiatedformorefavorableterms.”
Despiteeverything,Ihuffoutalaugh.“Maybeonmynextmarriage.”
“That’smygirl.”15
Eros
Ineverexpectedtogetmarried.It’snotthatIhaveanissuewithmonogamy,thoughI’veonlyflirtedwithitinthepast.Somethingasrelativelypermanentasmarriageismorethanjustarelationship.It’smorethansex,morethanmovingsomeoneintoyourspaceandfiguringouthowtoshareit.It’sapartnership.Analliance.
ButasIstandbeforethealtar,Hermesbouncingonhertoesinhersilverthree-piecesuit,itjustfeelsfuckingright.
Irefusetoexaminethatsensationtooclosely.
Instead,IfocusonthedooropeningandPsychewalkingthrough.OntheexpressiononherfaceasshetakesinwhatI’vespentthelastfewhoursputtingtogether.
Theroomisn’tlarge,whichisanassetforthisevent.Therearetwopewsoneithersideoftheaisle,eachcappedwithabouquetofcrimsonrosestiedwithashiningsilverribbon,aperfectmatchforherdressthankstotheswatchJulietteprovided.Theaisleitselfisadeepredrunnerinthesameshade.AsIwatch,HelenwalksuptoPsycheandhandsoveranother,largerbouquetofthesamearrangement.
TheshockonPsyche’sfacedeepensasshelooksaroundtheroom.Iseeherregisterthateveryoneiswearingsomevariationofred,black,andsilver.EvenHades,thoughhisblack-on-blacksuitsseemtobetheonlyclothingheowns.AphotographerwhoIhirededgesaroundtheroom,thesnapofhiscameratheonlysoundforonelongmoment.
Thenthemusicrises,avariationoftheweddingmarchthatsoundsalmostlikeadirge.Fromhersmallsmile,shefindsitasfittingasIdo.Almostlikeaninsidejokebetweenjustthetwoofus.
Psychetakesthefirststeptowardthealtar—towardme—andmeetsmygaze.Hersmilewidens,andevenasItellmyselfit’sallforshow,Ican’thelpthewarmththatbloomsinmychest.Iknowthisisn’twhatshewants.Ifshe’slikeHelenandEris,she’shadplansforherweddingfromwhenshewasalittlegirl,andIhardlyexpectthatthoseplansincludedmarryingthesonofhermother’senemyinfrontofanaudienceoffive.
Ican’tchangethat,buttheleastIcandoisgiveherthisgift.Somethingphotograph-worthy.Thisweddingmightnotbeagoodmemory,butatleastthepublicityinitsaftermathwon’tembarrassher.
SheandDemetermaketheirwaytothealtarandstopafewstepsaway.Hermesclearsherthroat,lookingdelightedbythiswholeexperience.“Whogivesthiswoman’shandinmarriage?”
“Ido.”DemetermovesforwardandplacesPsyche’shandinmine.Shesmilessweetlyasifdelightedtobehere,butherlowwordsdrippoison.“Ifyoudoanythingtobringmydaughterharminanyway,Iwillgutyouandleaveyouformypigs.”
I’veheardrumorsaboutDemeterandherpigs,butI’veneverbeenabletosubstantiateanyofthem.“I’lltakethatintoconsideration.”
“Seethatyoudo.”ShepressesakisstoPsyche’scheekandthenmovestositnexttoPersephoneinthefrontrow.
Westandbeforethealtar,andallIcandoisstareatPsyche.Thiswoman,thisbrilliantandfiercecreature,willbemineintruththemomentIslipmyringonherfinger,themomentwebothsay“Ido.”ThiswasonlymeanttobeawaytokeepPsycheamongtheliving,butsometimeinthelasttwelvehours,it’sturnedintosomethingelsealtogether.Iwillkeepthiswomansafe.
Fuck,I’mjustgoingtoflatoutkeepher.
IbarelylistentoHermes,barelymanagetorepeattheproperwordstogetthisthingdone.MyhandsactuallyshakeasIslipthegiantdiamondontoPsyche’sringfinger.I’mundone.
Forherpart,mynewwifedoesn’tseemtohavethesameproblem.Hervoiceisperfectlyevenassherepeatsthesamevows.Herfingersarecoolagainstmyskinassheslipstheringon.Shesmilessweetlyatme,andIsurprisemyselfwithhowbadlyIwantittobereal.
“Youmaykissthebride.”
Idon’thesitate.Istepforward,closingthedistancebetweenus,andcupherface.IfIwereabetterman,I’dnevertouchthiswomanwithhandsthathavecommittedsuchviolence,butI’mselfishrightdowntomycore.Ikissher,fillingthatonemomentwithsomuchpromise,she’smeltingagainstme.
Someone—IthinkEris—clearsherthroat,andImanagetoliftmyhead,thoughIdon’tdropmyhands.IsmiledownatPsyche.“Hey.”
“Hey,”shewhispers.
“Wedidit.”
Shewrapsherhandsaroundmywristsandgivesmealittlesqueeze.“We’renotdoneyet.”
Withthatinmind,Ilacemyfingersthroughhersandweturntofacetheroom.HelenandErishavecarefulexpressionsinplace,asiftheystillcan’tquitebelievethishappened.IexpectI’mgoingtohearitfrombothofthemlaterwhentheyhavemoretime.Demeterhasanexcellentpokerface,butI’veseenherusethatsameserenesmilebeforesystematicallycuttingheropponentsoffattheknees.Hadesglowers,buthealwaysseemstoglower.Persephonebeams,butIdon’tmissthepromiseofviolenceinherhazeleyes.
Thismarriageisgoingtosetoffallsortsofchaos.
Strangelyenough,Ican’twait.
Hermesmakesahappysound.“Inowpresenttoyou,Mr.ErosAmbrosiaandMs.PsycheDimitriou.”
Demeterstandsandcrossestous.“Congratulations.”Shetakesmyhands,hernailsdiggingintomyskinevenasherexpressionremainshappy.“Welcometothefamily.”
Thiswastheplan,butIcan’thelpashiverofunease.There’snogoingbacknow.Wecanonlylivewiththeconsequences.“Thanks.”
“FamilydinnersareSundays.Noexceptions.Seeyounextweek.”ShepressesaquickkisstoPsyche’scheek.“We’lltalklater.”
“Ofcourse.”Mywifedoesn’tlookshakenintheleast.
Wife.
Mine.
Iwrapthatpossessivenesssurgingthroughmeinchainsofsilverandshoveitdeep.There’snospaceforfeelingthisrighthere,rightnow.Behindus,Hermesgivesagigglethatraisesthesmallhairsonthebackofmyneck.“Nowyou’vereallydoneit.Aphroditeisgoingtobesopissed.”ShenudgesmyshoulderasshewalksaroundmeandgrinsatPsyche.“Goodluckwiththat.Hopeyousurvivetoyourfirstanniversary.Ileftagiftforyouupinthekitchen.Enjoy!”Sheskipsdowntheaisle,movingwiththebouncingjoyofachilddespitethefactthatshe’satleastasoldasIam,ifnotolder.
PersephoneandHadesarenext,thoughhestandsafewfeetbackandglaresatmewhileshegiveshersisterahug.“Callifyouneedanything.”Persephonelooksatme.“Ifyoufuckwithmysister,mymother’spigswillbetheleastofyourworries.”
WewatchthemleavetheroomandIchuckle.“Charmingfamilyyouhave.”
“You’reluckyCallistodidn’tshowup.Sheprobablywouldhavebeatenyouovertheheadwiththeclosestbluntinstrument.”
Iglanceather.“EveryoneinOlympusthinksyou’resuchnicegirls.”
“EveryoneinOlympusseeswhattheywanttosee.”ShenarrowshergazeasHelenandErisapproach.“Caseinpoint.”
BothwomenhavetheKasiosfamilyfeatures.Highcheekbones,Romannoses,fulllips.HelenisbuiltalittlemorepetitethanEris,andherhairisalighterbrownwithredundertones,butnoonewouldlookatthesetwoandassumethey’reanythingbutrelated.Erisisgorgeous,butHelenis…TherearenowordsforwhatHelenis.She’sgotthekindofflawlessbeautythatbringscitiestotheirkneesandsendsentirearmiestowar.Shedoesn’tplayitup—ifanything,shedownplaysit—butshestillcommandstheattentionofanyroomshewalksinto.
Erisraisesadarkbrow.“Congrats,Iguess.Though,sinceAphroditewasconspicuouslyabsent,Idon’tlikeyouroddsatexperiencingablissfulhoneymoonperiod.She’llbemeddlingthefirstchanceshegets,andsheplaysdirty.”Shegivesawickedgrin.“Howlongdoyougivethem,Helen?”
Helensmackshersisterontheshoulder,hersmilestrained.“Canyousavethedoomsdaytalkforthedayafterthewedding,atleast?”
“Wherewouldbethefuninthat?Thingsarefinallygettinginteresting.”
Iopenmymouth,butPsychebeatsmetothepunch.SheleansagainstmeandsmilesatthetwoKasiossisters.“You’reunderestimatingErosifyouthinkAphroditecangetthebestofhim.”
Erisopenshermouth,butHelenelbowsherandglares.“That’senough.”SheturnsabrightersmileonPsyche.“Wehaven’tgottentoknoweachother,andI’dliketo.I’mhavingapartynextFriday.Bothofyoushouldbethere.”
“Aparty.”IfeelthewayPsychetenses,butshedoesn’tshowitoutwardly.Still,Ican’thelpgivingheralittlesqueezeasIsay,“Iwasundertheimpressionyou’reunderhousearrest.”
“AndyetI’mstandingrighthere,myhousenowhereinsight.”Helen’ssmiletakesonameanedge,herambereyeslightingup.“MybrotherisgettingalittletoohighandmightysincehebecameZeus.Wemightberelated,buthedoesn’townme.IfIwanttohaveareasonablesizedgroupoffriendsoverforsomelightrevelry,I’mgoingtodoit.”
Erislaughs,thesoundpromisingallsortsoftrouble.“Ifitpisseshimoff,allthebetter.”
“Don’tactlikeyou’reabovedoingexactlythat!”Helennudgeshersister.“Hetoldyoutobehave,too,andyouspentallyesterdaydaydrinkingwithDionysus.”
“IlikeDionysus.”Erisshrugs.“Heknowshowtohaveagoodtime,hekeepshishandstohimself,andhehasthesexiestfriends.It’sawin-win.”
AsmuchasInormallyenjoytheirbickering,Iamreadyforthispartoftheeventtobeover.“We’llseeyounextFriday.”
“Good.”HelenloopsherarmthroughEris’sandtowshersisterdowntheaisleandoutthedoor.
Nowallthat’sleftisthephotographer.
Psychesmilesathim,someofthetensionbleedingoutofherbody.Here,she’sinherelement.“Thankyousomuchforattending.I’dlikeafewstagedshotsinadditiontowhatyoualreadyhave.”
Hesmiles.“Sure.”
Izoneoutalittleastheydiscussoptions.IttakestenminutesbeforetheysettleonfourshotsandthenanotherthirtytogetpicturesbothPsycheandthephotographeraresatisfiedwith.Helooksupfromhiscamera.“Thesearegreat.Icanhavethemcleanedupandtoyoubytomorrow.”
“Thanks.”I’malreadyeyeingtheexit.HowfastcanIgetmynewwifeoutofhere?
Psycheputsherhandonhisarm.“Itwouldn’tbeamissifyouusedthismomenttoyouradvantage,Claude.”Sheleansin,smilingsweetly.“Ifyou’regoingtoselloffoneofthesephotos,usetheoneatthealtar,please.”
Hegoesalittlegreenaroundtheedges.“Iwouldn’t…Ididn’t…”
“WeknowhowOlympusworks.”Shepatshisshoulder.It’salighttouch,butheweavesunsteadilyonhisfeetasifitwerearighthook.“Justensureit’sthatpictureorI’llberatherupsetwithyou.”
“Yes,ma’am,”hewhispers.
“Youmaygonow.”
Wewatchhimpracticallysprintfromtheroom.Ibarelywaitforthedoortoclosetostartlaughing.“You’reterrifying.”
“Oh,hush.”
“Truly.Youfitrightinwithyourviciousmotherandyourviolentsisters.”
Psychesmacksmyshoulder.“Iamnotterrifying.Andlet’snotthrowstoneswhenyourmothertookafreakinghitoutonme.”
Idrapeanarmaroundhershoulders.Notbecauseanyoneiswatching;simplybecauseIwantto.Thiseasybanterbetweenusfeelsgoodafterthetensionofgettingallthepiecesinplaceforthewedding.“Canyouhonestlytellmethatyourmotherhasneverhadanyonekilled?”
“I—”
“Honestly,Psyche.”
Sheglares.“Unconfirmed.”
“Exactly.YouhavetobeatleastalittlebitofamonstertosurviveandthriveinOlympus.ThatgoestriplyformembersoftheThirteenthemselves.”
“You’renotwrong,butit’sirritatingallthesame.”Shegivesthedooralonglook.“Theuppercrustofthecitylikestopretendwe’remoreculturedorrefinedthananywhereelseintheworld,buttheoppositeistrue.Imean,lookatus.Wejustgotmarriedsoyourmotherwillstoptryingtohavemekilled.”
There’snotmuchtosaytothat.She’sright.“Iknow.”
“So,yes,maybeweallhavetobealittlebitmonstertosurvivethiscity.”Hereyesdim,afrownpullingatherlips.“EvenmorethanalittlebitifI’mgoingtobeperfectlyhonest.”
“There’snoshameinit.”Istrokemythumboverherbareshoulder.Gods,whyisshesosoft?TenyearsinOlympus,andshestillhasmostofherheartintact.She’sabletomournthesmallpartsofherselfshe’ssacrificedtothrive,butthecityhasn’twornherdownuntilshebarelyrecognizesherself.Ienvyherinthat.MaybeIdohavesomesoulleft,becauseIcan’tstopmyselffromtryingtochaseawaythesorrowwrittenacrossherfeatures.“You’renotone,youknow.”
“Notwhat?”
“Amonster.”Ismilealittle.“Iwouldknow,beingamonstermyself.Youmightmoveamongus,butyouaren’tlikeusatall.”
Shenarrowshereyes.“Ican’ttellifthat’sacomplimentoraninsult.”
“It’sacompliment.Ittakessomeonespecialtoliveamongmonstersandnotbecomeone.”We’reveeringintoconversationaldepthsIdon’tknowhowtonavigate.Ineedtogetusbackonsaferground.“Hungry?”
Shehesitatesbutfinallysays,“Yes.Iwastoonervoustoeatbefore.”
Truthbetold,Iwas,too.Itseemssillytogetnervesbeforearealweddingforafakerelationship,butnothingaboutthissituationisasexpected.I’mnotsupposedtowantmynewwifesomuchthatI’mpracticallyshakingwiththerestraintrequiredtokeepfromkissingheragain.
Or,ifnothingelse,itshouldonlybelustcoursingthroughmewhenIthinkofher.Isureasfuckshouldn’tbewantingtoputmyselfbetweenherandanythingthatwouldputthatsadlookinherprettyhazeleyes.
Iclearmythroat.“Let’sgobackuptothepenthouse.I’mreasonablysurethatnoonewillfuckwithustonight,sowemightaswellenjoyourselves.”
Psycheallowsmetoguidehertothedooranddownthehallwaytotheelevator.“They’renotsupposedtofuckwithusatall,notnowthatwe’remarried.”
Ididn’twanttotalkaboutthisuntillater,especiallyafterIjustgotdonetryingtoreassureher,butPsycheistoosavvynottonoticeanawkwardchangeofsubject.Ialreadyknowthiswomanwellenoughtoknowthatshewon’tletmedistracther.She’dratherhavethefulltruthoutintheopensowecandealwithitaccordingly.
Itstilltakesfartoomuchefforttoanswerhonestly.“Thismarriagemeansmymotherwon’tbeabletofollowthroughonthethreatsonyourlife.Itwon’tstopherfromattemptingcharacterassassination.”
Psychegivesmeaslowsmile.“Letherdoherworst.Icanmorethanhandleherinthatfield.”
Ihopeshe’sright.16
Psyche
Todayhasbeenfilledwithemotionalextremes.IfeellikeI’mflyingapartintoamillionpieces,andnotnecessarilyinagoodway.FromthosefortyminutesinEros’sbedtowalkingintotheroomthathethoughtfullypulledtogetherintosomethingresemblingarealwedding.He’dthemedthecolorstomydress,forgods’sake.Thatkindofattentiontodetailmightonlybesothatwecansellthisfullytoeveryoneinthecity,butIcan’thelpthinkingthathediditinpartforme.
I’mafool.
Togofromthattohimcasuallymentioningthatit’slikelyhismotherwillcontinuewithhervendetta,atleastwhenitcomestomyreputation…
Whiplashdoesn’tbegintocoverit.
OfcourseIexpectedthis.We’vetalkedaboutit,atleastinpassing.ButasmallpartofmehadheldouthopethatAphroditewouldturnawayfromthispathonceweweremarried.Ireallyknowbetterthantobelievesuchafantasy,buthopespringseternal.Itseemsrathernaivetoassumethat,thwarted,Aphroditewouldmoveonwithherlifeandfocusonsomeotherpotentialvictim.
Naiveandselfish.
Atleastifshe’sfocusedonme,Erosisn’thavingtohurtotherpeople.Nowthattheworstofthethreatisremoved,IcanhandleAphrodite.Ihope.Inthearenaofpublicopinion,I’mnearlyascapableassheis.Ihavetobelievethat.I’mjustsogodsdamnedtired
Idon’tmanagetospeakuntilwe’retuckedsafelybackintoEros’spenthouse.“Isupposeitwasnaiveofmetothinkthatthiswouldbeenoughtodissuadeher.”
Hekeepshisarmaroundmeasweheadintothekitchen.There’sabottlesittingonthecounter,andIpickitup,mostlytogivemyhandssomethingtodo.Aprettysilverribbonistiedarounditsneck,thetagsimplysayingFromHermes
Iexaminethelabel.“She’sgotexpensivetaste.”
Erosreachesaroundmeandflipsthetagover.Thebackreads:TotallystolethisfromHades’swinecellar.So,really,it’sfromme,Hades,andPersephone
Thatdrawsatiredlittlelaughfrommylips.“Hermesisamenace.”
“She’schaoticneutralpersonified.She’sprettyokay,though.”Erostakesthebottlefrommyhandsandsetsitbackonthecounter.“Iwon’tletanyonehurtyou,Psyche.”
“That’srichcomingfromyou,someonewhointendedtohurtmetwenty-fourhoursago.”Maybethat’sfair,maybeit’snot,butIdon’tcareeitherway.Theeventsofthelasttwodaysarerapidlycatchingupwithme.Toomuchhashappenedintooshortatime.“Ifthiswastheplanallalong,it’snotahalfbadone.OnecutformarryingDemeter’sdaughter.Afinishingmovebykillingher.”
“Stopit.”Hetakesmyhands,hisgriplightbutunavoidable.“Lookatme.”
Idon’twantto.IknowhowwellEroslieswhenhe’smotivated.Ican’ttrustasingleword,look,orgesture.ButwhenIgazeupathim,helooksterrifyinglyserious.
“Psyche,mymothermightstillbefurious,butourreasonsforgettingmarriedremainthesame.Shecanspitherpoisonandtryhermanipulations,butshecan’tharmyou.Iwillnotletanyoneharmyou.You’reminenow,andIprotectwhat’smine.”
“That’sverypatriarchalofyou.”Ihavenobusinessbelievinghim.Noneatall.Justbecausewe’remarrieddoesn’tmeanhe’sanythingotherthananenemy.Hewasgoingtokillme.Itrytomaintainmygrasponthattruth,butitkeepsbumpingupagainstothertruths.
Howangryhewasaboutthenegativecommentsonmysocialmedia.
HisinsistencethatIhaveaweddingdressthatI’dbeproudof.
Thefactthathetooktheswatchandorganizedtheentirewedding,guestsandall,aroundmychosencolorpalette.
Somanytiny,thoughtfulthings.Thingsanenemywouldn’tdo,eveniftheyweretryingtobutteruptheirvictim.Nowhe’stellingmehewillstandbetweenmeandanythreattomysafetyandI…believehim.
Heshakeshishead.“Idon’treallygiveafuckifit’spatriarchalornot.It’sthetruth.You’resafewithme.Ipromise.”
Idon’tmeantotouchhim.TouchingErosistheverydefinitionofapoorchoice,butmyhandsfindtheirwayinsidehistuxjacketallthesame.Thefabricofhisdeep-grayshirtissofterthanIexpect,butthat’snotwhathasmylegsalreadyshaking.It’sthecurvesanddivotsofhismusclesbeneath.Hewasshirtlessinbedwithmelastnight,butthecircumstancesmadeitimpossibletoenjoytheviewwithoutrestriction.
Icanenjoyitnow.It’smyweddingnight,afterall.
“Eros.”
Heholdsperfectlystill,watchingmeclosely.“Yes?”
“Isaidonlyonce.”Myfingersfindthebuttonsinthecenterofhischest.“Whatifthatoncedoesn’tenduntilsunrise?”
Hiseyesflarehot,buthedoesn’treachformethewayIsuddenlycrave.“Iwantnomisunderstandingsbetweenus,Psyche.Youneedsomething?Useyourwordsandbeexplicit.”
Ishouldhaveknownhewouldn’tmakethiseasyonme.Nothinguptothispointhasbeeneasy;whywouldthisbe?Ilickmylipsandstriveforaneventone.“Iwouldverymuchliketohavesexwithyoutonight.”
Hisslowsmilehassomethingmoreviolentthanbutterflieseruptinginmystomach.“Onecondition.”
“I’mnotinterestedinbargaining.”
“Andyethereweare—bargaining.”Hisgrinwidens,andI’mstartledtorealizeit’salittlecrooked.Thetiniestofimperfectionsthatsomehowmakeshimevenmoreattractive,somethingIthoughtimpossible.Heleansintomytouchtheslightestbit.“We’llhavesextonight,andinreturn,foraslongaswe’remarried,you’llgivemetheopportunitytoseduceyouproperly.”
“No.”ThewordslamsthroughmylipsbeforeIcancallitback.“Ialreadytoldyouwhythatwasimpossible.”
“Psyche.”Hepracticallypurrsmyname,andIhavetofightdownashiver.Howcanthismandosomuchwithoneword?“I’mnevergoingtopressureyoutodosomethingyoudon’twant.”
Danger.Thatwayliedragons.
TheideaofbeingseducedbyErosisalmostintoxicatingenoughtohavemethrowingcautiontothewind.Almost.Idrawinaraggedbreath.“I’dbeafooltoagreetothat,andyou’reridiculousfordemandingit.Everyoneknowsthatyoudon’tstaywithonepartnerformorethanlongenoughtoquenchyourcuriosity.TheonlyreasonyouwantmesomuchisbecauseItoldyouno.”Ifwegofurtherdownthispath,eventuallyhe’llgetboredwithme.Iknowmyselfwellenoughtorecognizehowmuchthatwillhurtwhenhefinallyfuckshisfillanddecidesheisn’tinterestedincontinuingtheseduction.
“Isit?”Hetakesaslowstepcloser,andIdonothingtostophim.Erosstrokesthetipsofhisfingersoverthebacksofmyhands.“Everyoneseemstoknowalotaboutus,allofitprojectionandcarefullyconcealedlies.EveryoneknowsI’mallergictomonogamy.Justlikeeveryoneknowsthatyou’reasweetinfluencerwhodoesn’tmakewaves—orhaveameanboneinherbody.”
Thepointlandsjustasheintendsitto.Olympiangossipmightbeaneliteevent,butmostpeopleinvolvedplaythegameandmassagetheirimageasneeded.Ido.OfcourseErosdoesthesame;he’salreadyadmittedasmuch.Sowhyisitsoshockingthatthisisn’ttrue?“I’veneverseenyouwiththesamedateattwoevents.”
“Myreasonsaremyown,andmypastpartnershavenothingtodowithus.Youknowthat,butyou’rebeingstubborn.”
Isearchhisface,understandingdawning.“Aphroditeisajealouscreature.Shewouldn’tlikesharingyourallegiancewithanyone,especiallyaromanticpartner.”
“Clevergirl.”Hislipscurveinabittersmile.“Idon’thavetoworryaboutthatwithyou,sincemymotheralreadyhatesyouandyou’remorethancapableofhandlinghergoingforward.”
Hesaysitsoconfidently,asifit’struthandnotjustwishingonastar.IamgoodatwhatIdo.Iknowthat.I’vehadtenyearsofpracticeanditcomesnaturallytome.Butsomuchofmystrengthliesinpeopleunderestimatingme.Evenmysistersdoit;sometimestheyforgetI’mplayingthesamegamestheyare.IfItoldthemIwasgoingtoe-to-toewithAphrodite,theywouldbeterrifiedonmybehalf.
ErossimplybelievesIcanholdmyown.There’snohesitation,nodoubt.Hisconfidenceisheadierthananyalcohol.Itmakesmefeelboldandrecklessandmorethanalittlewild.
WhichisexactlywhyIneedtorestrictsexbetweenus.“Eros,please,”Iwhisper.Ifhe’sabletomakemefeelsooff-centerinasingleday,afewweeksofsleepingnexttoeachother—ofsleepingwitheachother—andI’llbeinserioustrouble.
“You’retheonewhoopenedupnegotiations.”Hekeepsupthatfeatherlighttouch,tracingovermywrists.“Tobehonest,though,youhavemeoverabarrel.Iwantyoutoobadlynottotakeyouuponthis.”
It’saterribleideatogivehimthegreenlighttoattempttoseduceme,especiallywhenhe’salreadybackeddown.IfIweresmart,I’dcapitalizeonthis,takemypleasurefortonight,andgobacktokeepingacarefuldistancebetweenustomorrow.
Idon’tknowwhatIwant.
Liar.
Iignorethesensiblevoiceinsideme.TomorrowisFutureMe’sproblem.Rightnow,Iambuzzinginmyskin,torninathousanddifferentdirectionsbytoomanyemotions.Ijustwanttofeel,toforget,toceasetoexistforalittlewhile.Allmyproblems,alltheplanningandplotting,willstillbetheretomorrow.Imeethiseyes.“Youhaveyourselfadeal.Foraslongaswe’remarried,youcanattempttoseduceme.”
Heexhalesslowlyasifgivingmeachancetochangemymind.WhenIsimplystandthereandlookupathim,hegrowls,“Thankfuck.”Hegrabsmyhandandtowsmedownthehalltothemasterbedroom.“Ilovethisdress.Butifyoudon’ttellmehowtogetitoffyouinthenextthirtyseconds,I’mgoingtocutittopieces.”
Shockandpleasurehavemelaughing.“Lacesintheback.Pleasedon’tcutupmyweddingdress.”
Hemakesanotherofthosedeliciousgrowlingsoundsandspinsmearoundtofacethedresseracrossfromthebed.Tofacethegiantgildedmirrorthathangsoverit.Istareatit,hardlyrecognizingthewomanreflectedthere.Shelookslikeastranger,dressedinhercrimsonweddinggownwithhercheeksflushedfromdesire.IwatchErosashemovestostandbehindme,hisexpressionamaskofconcentrationandimpatienceashegentlytugsthelaceslooseuntilthedresssagsawayfrommybody.Ishouldhelp,butIcan’tstopstaringatthepicturewemake.
“Forfuck’ssake,it’slikeoneofthoseRussiannestingdolls.”Erosrunshishandsoverthecorset,guidingmydresspastmyhipstothefloor.Again,hegoestothelaces,thoughthisonerequiresalittlemorefinessebecausePersephoneisasadistandlacedituptight.
“Youcouldjustleaveiton,”Igasp.ThelittlejerkingmotionsashefreesthelacesareastrangesortofforeplaythatIdidn’texpect,butthenI’veneverhadapartnergetmeoutofacorsetbefore.
“Noway.Iwantaccesstoallofyou.”Thelastrowoflacesgives,andheyanksthecorsetoffme.Ihearithitthegroundbehindus.
Ifreeze,grippingthedresserhardenoughtohurt.Hesawmenakedjustafewhoursago,butIcan’thelpthestabofinsecurityIfeel.Corsetsmightlooklikeadream,buttheyleavepressmarksacrosstheskinofmystomach.It’shardlythesexyimageI’dchoosefortonight.
Erosmeetsmygazeinthemirror.ThenakedhungeronhisfaceputswhatfewdoubtsIhaveaside.Thismanhasnoreasontolietome,notaboutthis.WhichmeanshewantsmejustasdesperatelyasIwanthim.
Hewantstoseducemeproperly.
“Lookatyou,”hemurmurs,closingthedistancebetweenustopresshisbodytomyback.“You’resofuckingbeautiful.”
Iexpecthimtogonearlyferalthesamewayhedidearlytoday.Butapparentlymynewhusbandisn’tinthemoodtorushdespitehisdeterminationtogetmyweddingdressoff.Hesinkshishandsintomyhair,removingthebobbypinsthatPersephoneputintoplaceonebyone.Itfeelslikethere’sathousandofthem,andhegoesaftereachmethodically,droppingthemonthedressernexttous.He’sbarelytouchingme,hisfingerscarefullymovingthroughmyhair,occasionallypressingtothetightknotsatthebaseofmyskull,butitfeelslikehe’sdousedmeingasolineandlitamatch.
Ican’tstopshaking.Iwanttoreachforhim,butIalsodon’twantthisslowseductiontostop.Anditisaseduction,evenifIdoubthe’dlabelitassuch.Iopenmyeyes,notquitesurewhenIclosedthem,tofindalookofutterconcentrationonhisface.EverybitofEros’sformidableattentionisfocusedonme.Therealizationisoneoftheheadiestmomentsofmylife.
Thismanismine.
Maybenotintruth,maybenotforever,butforrightnow.
Oncemyhairisfreetofalldownmybackinloosewaves,Erosmovesitoutofthewayandpressesakisstomyneck.Hedragshismouthovertheslopeofmyshoulders,watchingmeinthemirror.Somehow,thisfeelsmoreintimatethanwhenhehadhismouthallovermeearliertoday.Icanseeeverything.Mybody.Myneed.Hisblatantdesireburninghotenoughtoincineratebothofus.
Histeethgrazesensitiveskin,buthe’sohsocarefulnottomarkme.Icantellevenwhilecompletelyoverwhelmedwiththisexperience.Andthatcare,thatthoughtfulness,onlymakesthismomentmoreintoxicating.“Takeoffyourpants,”Igasp.
“Notyet.”
Frustrationaddsspicetomydesire.“Please,Eros.Ineedyou.”
“Notyet,”herepeats.Hecupsmybreastswitharoughtouch,andifIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dsayhishandsareshaking.Surelynot.SurelyErosAmbrosiaisn’tsoaffectedbymethathe’soffhisgame.Itdoesn’tmatterthatthelookonhisfaceisdownrightreverent.Butthenhegoesandblowsmyassumptionsoutofthewaterwithhisnextwords.“IfItakeoffmypants,I’mgoingtobeinsideyou,andifI’minsideyou,thiswillbeovertooquickly.Don’trushme.”
Mybodyflusheshotandneedy.Iarchmyback,pressingmybreastsmorefirmlyintohistouch.Ican’tdoubthiswords.Notwhenhe’stoldmeharshtruthsandsoftones.Hehasnoreasontolietomenow.He’sgettingexactlywhathewants,afterall—whatwebothwant.
Itentativelyrunmyhandsuphisarms,lingeringovertheharshlinesofhismuscles.Wepaintquitethepicture.Me,nakedandsoft.Him,clothedandallbarelycontrolledstrength.“Touchme.”
“Iamtouchingyou.”HisvoiceislowerthanI’veheardityet,roughandtight.“Ordoyoumeantouchyoulikethis?”Hemoves,bracketingmythroatwithonehandandslidinghisotherdowntopalmmypussy.I’veneverfeltsoownedinmylife.I’veneverlookedsoowned.
No,notowned.Possessed.
Ileanforwardalittlejusttofeelthestrengthinhispalmagainstmyneck,justtohavehimflexhisfingersagainstmysensitiveskin.
Erosholdsmygazeashepartsmyfoldsandpushestwobluntfingersintome,aslowandthoroughpenetration.Istarttoshutmyeyes,unabletobearbeingexposedlikethis,buthemakesasharpsound.“No.Don’thidefromme.Nottonight.Notlikethis.”
Ican’thandlethesheerheatinhiseyessoIfocusonhishandbetweenmythighs.Itlooksasgoodasitfeels.Heidlyfucksmewithhisfingers,strummingmyneedhigherandhigher.“Lookatyou,”hemurmurs.“You’resofuckingperfect.”
Ifanyotherpartnersaidthosewords—andtheyhave—Iwouldchalkituptobeingcaughtintheheatofthemoment.IknowI’mattractive,butmybeautydoesn’tinspirethereverencethesekindsofcomplimentsinherentlycarry.
Except…
Erossoundslikehemeansit.Helookslikehemeansit.Hekeepsworkingmypussyinslowstrokesashisfreehandmovesovermybody,likehecan’ttouchmeenough.Cuppingfirstonebreastandthentheother,strokingdownmystomach,overtosqueezemyhipashemakesagrowlingsound.“Fuckingperfect.”Heeaseshisfingersoutofmeandmovesuptocirclemyclit.“Socleverandambitiousandyouhideitbehindthisprettyface.Doyoueverletdownyourwalls,beautifulgirl?”
“Eros,please.”Idon’tknowwhatI’maskingfor.Forhimtostop,toneverstop,tojustmakemeorgasmwithoutsayingwordsthatfeellikehe’slashingmerightdowntomysoul.
“That’sanswerenough.”Erosnipsmyshoulder,makingmejolt,andslidestwofingersbackintome.“Letgo,Psyche.Iwanttofeelyourpussyclamparoundmyfingersasyoucome.”Hepressestheheelofhishandtomyclit,eachstrokerubbingmewhereIneeditmost
Idon’tlastanothersixtyseconds.
Icomehard,thecrybarelypassingmylipsbeforehismouthisonmine,devouringthesoundashestrumsmypleasurehigherandhigher.Waveafterwave.Gods,it’stoomuchandnotenough,andifIcouldthinkproperly,I’dbeterrifiedthatI’llnevergetenough.Mykneesgiveout;hedoesn’tmissabeat.Erosguidesmebackontothebedandfarenoughupthemattressuntilhecankneelbetweenmyspreadthighs.
Thewaythismanlooksatme.
IfIweresmarter,I’dfindawaytorunfromhim.TheheatinEros’seyesissomethinglikeobsession,andbeingthisman’ssolefocusisdangerousinawayI’mnotpreparedtodealwith.Iamstrong;I’vehadtobeinordertosurvivethislongmostlyunscathed.
I’mnowherenearstrongenoughtowinabattleofwillswithErosifheeverdecideshewantstobreakmetopieces.17
Eros
Myhandsareshaking.Mywholefuckingbodyisshaking.WatchingPsychecomeapartforme,feelingherclencharoundmyfingersassheorgasmed,knowingthatshe’strustingmeenoughtoletmeguidethis…Itmakesmewanttofallonherlikearaveningbeast.Toplungeintoheruntilnothingexistsbutourhardandroughfucking.
Shedeservesbetterthanthat.
Idon’tputmuchstockinmarriageandallitentails,butPsycheisthetypewhodoes.EvenifIhadn’tforcedherhandwiththissituation,shemightnothavehadalovematch.It’snearlyunheardofinOlympus,especiallyamongtheThirteenandtheirfamilies.It’ssignificantlymorecommontomarryformoney,power,andprestige.Lovedoesn’tenterintotheequation.
Evenso,thefactremainsthatI’mthereasonshelostwhatlittlechanceshehadforlove.TheveryleastIcandoisensurethatshehasamemorableweddingnight.
Irunmyhandsupherlegsandoverherroundedstomach.Havinghernakedandspreadoutbeforemeisjustasheadynowasitwasthisafternoon.It’showfuckingsexysheis,yes,butIkeepcomingbacktothetrustshe’splacinginme.Idon’tdeserveit…butstrangelyenough,Iwanttodeserveit.
“Eros.”Shehalfsitsupandreachesforme.“Comehere.”
“Notyet.”Ihaven’ttakenmypantsoffyet.Ican’triskit.Judgingfromthedesirepoundingthroughmybody,centeringinmycockandballs,I’mnotgoingtolastonceIgetinsideher.Iwanthertocomeagain,wanttofeelhershatteratmyhands,mytongue,afewmoretimesbeforewegetthere.
Iwanttobindhertomeascloselyaspossible,tohavehercravewhatIcangiveherasmuchasIwanttogiveittoher.Theonlywaytoaccomplishthatisbydealinghersomuchpleasuretonightthatsheturnstomewhenshe’sfeelingneedyagain.
IfIhavemyway,she’llbeinapermanentstateofneed.
Iallowhertotugmeuptokissheragain.KissingPsycheisnohardship.Shedoesn’tpassivelytakewhatIgiveher.Shemeetsmeeverystepoftheway,sparringwithhertonguethesamewayshedoeswithherwords.Agameofgive-and-takeandpurepleasure.Ienjoykissing.Ialwayshave.Butkissingthiswomancouldalmostbethemainevent.
OritcouldifIdidn’thavehernakedandwrithingbeneathme.
Islidedownherbody,pressingherlargebreaststogethersoIcanteaseonenippleandthentheother,movingbackandforthbetweenthemuntilshe’swhimperingandarching,offeringherselfupformorethanataste.OnlythendoIshiftlower,lickingandnippingdownthecurvesofherbreaststoherstomach.Shetensestheslightestbit,butI’mhavingnoneofit.IgivethispartofherthesamethoroughtreatmentIgaveherbreasts.Eachcurve,dimple,roll.ImeanteverythingIsaid;she’sperfectandI’llnotbekeptfromanyinchofher.
WhenIfinallyreachherpussy,herthighsfallopen.She’snolongertryingtoguidemeorrushanymomentofthis.She’slettingmedowhatIwant,andIfuckingloveit.Hertrustisjustasheadyashertaste.Psycheiswetandpracticallydripping,andIwastenotimeindraggingmytongueupherpussytoherclit.
Gods,thiswoman.
Herhandsfindmyhaironthesecondlick,andshetugsmeuptofocusonherclit.I’monlytoohappytotakethesilentguidance,especiallyasherhipsrisetomeetmytongue.She’smoaningandgrindingherselfallovermymouth,andIhavetoforcemyhipsstilltoavoidfuckingagainstthemattressuntilIcomeinmypants.
That’sthesecondtimetoday.
ImightlaughifIcouldbreathepasttheneedpoundinginmyblood.Psychehasstrippedawayallmyart,allmyfinesse.Theonlythingthatmattersisdeliveringpleasureuntilshecan’ttakeanymore.Notevenmypleasureranksabovethat.
Whenshecomes,it’swiththesweetestsoundI’veeverfuckingheard.Herbackbowsandherlipspartand…“Eros.”
Holyshit.
Themonsterinsidemethrowsitselfagainstitscage,rattlingmyentirebeing.Shecriedoutmynameassheorgasmed.Itshouldn’tfeelsoprofound,butthere’snodenyingthesurgeofpossessivenessthatstillseverythoughtinmyheadexcepttheneedtogetinsideheranddoitnow.Ihavetopressmyforeheadtoherstomachandfocusonbreathingforafewmoments.
It’stime.
Iforcemyselftoreleaseherandmoveoffthebed.Shewatchesmewitheyesgonehazyfrompleasure,herdesiresharpeningasIshuckoffmypantsandgrabacondomfromthenightstanddrawer.Icrawlbackontothebedandresumemypositionbetweenherthighs.It’sastruggletothinkpasttheprimalurgetostampmypresenceoneveryinchofher,butImanage.Barely.“Letmehaveyou,Psyche.”Thewordsarewrong;theymeantoomuch,revealtoomuch.
Thankfully,shedoesn’tseemtonotice.She’salreadynodding.“Idon’twanttowaitanylonger.”
“Good.”Iripopenthecondomandrollitdownmylength.Slowly,ohsoslowly,Ibracemyselfoverherandguidemycocktoherentrance.Sheliftsherhips,welcomingmeevenasItrytorememberwhyIneedtoeasemywayintothis.
Fuckit.
Iworkmywayintoherinshort,unrelentingstrokes.Mybreathisjustaschoppyashers.IthinkI’mmoaning,butIcan’tfuckingtellovertherushinginmyearsasIfinally,finally,sinkintohertothehilt.ShefeelsevenbetterthanIcouldhavedreamed.Likeshe’smadejustforme.I’mtoofargonetocareaboutthedangerofthinkinglikethat.Ican’thelpthrustingalittle,watchingherfaceasIdo.
Shebitesherbottomlip.AclearinvitationifI’veeverseenone.I’monlytoohappytotakeheruponit,dippingdownandclaiminghermouththesamewayI’mclaimingherbody.Shemightnotseeitthatway,butIcan’thelpthewayIfeel.It’smyproblem.I’lldealwithitlater.
Ihaveeveryintentionofgoingslow,butshedigshernailsintomyass,urgingmeon,andwhatlittlecontrolIhadleftsnaps.Islidemyarmsunderhertogriphershoulderstogivemebetterleverageandfuckherinlong,intensestrokes.I’vegonetoofaralready.Ican’tstop,can’tslowdown.EvenifIwantedto,she’surgingmeonwithaferocitythatputsmyownfiercenessfrontandcenter.
“Youfeelsofuckinggood,Psyche.”Ithrusthard,lovingthewayshemoansinresponse.“Alltightandwetandmadejustforme.”
“Eros.”She’sgaspingandpantingandstilltryingtourgemeon.“More.Harder.”
Igiveupdoinganythingbutexactlywhatshedemandsofme.Ifuckherhardenoughthattheslapoffleshagainstfleshfillstheroom,punctuatedbywordsIcan’tkeepinside.“Oncemore,beautifulgirl.Iwanttofeelyoucomingaroundmycock.Itfeelsgood,doesn’tit?”
“Sogood.”Shewhimpersandthenhernailsareonmyback,bitinginhardenoughthatI’llbewearinghermarkstomorrow.Fiercesatisfactionlashesme.There’snotakingthisback,justlikethere’snotakingbackmyringonherfingerandhersonmine.Nomatterwhatelsehappens,tomorrowtherewillbenopretendingthiswasalladream.We’regroundedtoofirmlyinreality.
Iadjustmyangle,workingtogiveherclitthefrictionsheneedstogettherebeforeIdo.She’sonlytoohappytohelpme,pressingherheelstothemattresstogrindherselfagainstmypelvicbone.Psychebecomesfrantic.“Eros,please.Please,please,please.”
“I’vegotyou.”Idragmymouthoverhershoulder.“Iwon’tstop.”
Idon’tstop.Ikeepupthatcarefulangle,thatintensemotion,untilshecomesapartaroundme.Iwanttolast.Ido.Butitfeelstoofuckinggood.Sheclampsaroundmycock,andit’stoolate.IdriveintoherasIcome,fillingthecondom.
Istaredownatthiswoman,atmywife.She’salwaysgorgeous,butshelookslikeagoddessrightnow,herhairspreadaroundher,hereyeshalf-shutwithpleasure,herlipsplumpedfrommykisses.I’mnophotographer,notlikePsycheis,butIwouldgivemyrightarmtotakeapictureofherinthismomenttokeepwithmealways.
“Eros.”
IfItellherwhatIwasjustthinking,itwillfreakherout.She’salreadyskittishasfuckaroundme,andwithgoodreason.Thewomanshowedmekindnessonce,andthenIessentiallyfollowedherhomelikeaferalcatandforcedhertomarryme.“Don’tmove,”Ifinallymanage.
“Idon’tthinkIcan.”
Thatdrawsaroughlaughfromme.MylegsaremorethanalittleshakyasImoveoffherandstaggertothebathroomtodisposeofthecondom.WhenIreturn,it’stofindherexactlyasIlefther.Again,I’mslammedwiththeintensedesiretokeepherlikethisforever.Iwantmorethanapicturetoremembertonightby.Iwantmore
Iwantthistobelongerthanasinglenight.
Withthatinmind,Igrabahandfulofcondomsandtossthemontothebednexttoher.Psychelooksatthemandthenatme,herbrowsraised.“Someone’sambitious.”
“Thesun’snotupyet.”
Thesmileshegivesmecontainsmultitudes.“No,thesun’snotupyet.”Shestretches.“ButI’dlikeachancetoshowerofftheworstoftheweddingbeforewedoanythingelse.”
Ioffermyhand,aferalpartofmecrowinginvictorywhenshesetsherhandinmine.Suchasmallthing,allowingmetotughertoherfeet,butitfeelsmoresignificantthanthat.Itfeelslikewereallyhavestartedsomethingmeaningful.It’sfoolishintheextremetoletmyselfbelievethat.PsychemightlikethewayIfuck,butshedoesn’tlikeme.
Shedoesn’thateme,though.She’stoogoodapersontoletmetouchherlikethisifshetrulyhatedme.That’satinyledgetostandonandwishformore,butI’vebeeninmoreimpossiblesituationsandcomeoutontop.
Imaintainmygriponherhandandleadherintothebathroom.Shedoesn’targueasIgetthewatergoingorwhenIfollowherintothespray.Foramoment,somethingwarylingersinhereyes.“Ifyoucouldseethewayyoulookatme.Idon’tunderstandit.”
“What’stheretounderstand?”Ican’tshutdownmyexpressionnow.It’saskillI’vemanagedforaslongasIcanremember,closingoutothersandofferingnothingIdon’tintendto.Butrighthere,rightnow,I’manopenbookifshe’sinclinedtoreadme.
Psychestaresupintomyfaceforalongmoment,blushes,andducksbeneaththespray.I’mbothdisappointedandgratefulforthereprieve.Somethingsarebetterleftunsaid,especiallywhenI’mstillnotsurehowI’mfeeling,whenI’mridingtheedgeofcontrol.
Butshe’shereinmyshowerandIamonlyhuman.
Igrabtheshampoofromherhand.“Letme.”
“Eros,that’snotnecessary.”
“IthasnothingtodowithnecessityandeverythingtodowiththefactthatIwantto.”Wejusthadsex.Ishouldbesated,iftemporarily.Instead,myneedforheronlyseemstogrowstronger.Ipourtheshampoointomyhandsandgettoworkmassagingitintotheheavylengthofherhair.Shestaystenseforamoment,butoncesheseemstorealizethatIhavenointentionofrushing,Psychesighsandrelaxesagainstme.
Shemightnotrealizethesignificanceofthis,butit’simpossibleformenotto.She’sstoppedfightingmesomewherealongtheway.Thiswomanwillneversubmit,willalwaysbelookingatasituationfromathousanddifferentangles,butrightnow,she’scontenttoletmetakecareofher.
She…trustsme.
Sheshouldn’t.Shehasabsolutelynoevidencetosupportthis.Andyethereweare.Itfeelslikeagift,oneIcertainlydon’tdeservebutwillacceptnonetheless.
Wefinishshoweringrelativelyquickly,andPsychemakesmewaitwhileshedriesherhair,buteventuallyweendupbackinthebedroomtogether.Shestaresatthebed.“Wedon’thaveto…”
“Psyche.”Iwaitforhertolookatmetocontinue.“Iwantyou.Thesunisn’tupyet.Doyouwantmore?”
It’shardtotellintheshadowsoftheroom,butIthinksheblushes.“Ishouldn’t.”
“Ididn’taskwhatyouthoughtyoushoulddo.Iaskedwhatyouwanttodo.”
Sheexhalesslowly.“Yes,Eros.Iwantmoreofyou.”
Thankfuck.Ipullherintomyarmsandbrushherhairbackfromherface.“See,thatwasn’tsohard.Let’skeepgoing.”Ikissherbeforeshehasachancetofireoffsomesmart-assresponse.
Tonight.Wehavetonight.Wecanworryabouttomorrowinthemorning.18
Psyche
Iwakeupinwavesofsensation.TheearthyscentofErosagainstmyskin.Thewarmthofhimatmyback,hisarmacomfortingweightovermywaist,thebed’sluxurioussheetsandcomforterwrappeduparoundustowardoffthechill.Thesweetacheofmybodyfromeverythingwedidlastnight.
Idon’twanttoopenmyeyes.IfIopenmyeyes,thisisover,andI’mnotreadytostepbackontothebattleground.Later,I’llbemoreworriedaboutmyhesitation,willprobablycursemyselfseventimesoverforthemomentofweaknessaftertheceremony.AnotherthingtoaddtoFutureMe’stab.AterriblehabitI’msettlinginto.
Eros’sarmtightensaroundme,hishandspreadingtopresstothespotjustbeneathmybreasts.“Morning.”
Nowthere’snopretendinganylonger.We’rebothawake.It’stimetogetupandtalkthroughournextsteps.
ExceptIdon’t.
Instead,Iarchbackalittle,pressingmyasstohishardcock.“Morning.”
Hisharshexhaleticklesthesmallhairsatthebackofmyneck.“Thesun’sup.”
Damnhimforinsistingonpullingbackthecurtainandshininglightonthissituation.Woulditbesohardtoignorethesliverofdawnshowingthroughthewindow?Isigh.“ThenIguessweshouldbeup,too.”
“Thereyougoagain,usingthatword.Should.”Hishandskatesdownmystomachandovertomyhip.It’snotquiteaninvitation,butit’snotnotaninvitation,either.“Youseemtired,Psyche.”
Ifrownatthegraywallacrossfromthebed.“Thanks.That’swhateverybridewantstohearthedayafterherwedding.”
Hislowchucklehasmefightingnottoarchbackagainsthimagain.Erospressesalightkisstomyshoulder.“Itseemsadamnshametogetoutofbedbeforewehaveto.”
I’malreadyonaslipperyslopewhenitcomestothisman.First,IcompromisedwithsomeofthebestoralsexI’veeverreceivedbeforetheceremony.Then,wehadentirelytoomuchsexaftertheceremony.Ifwepushtheboundaryagain,I’mnotcertainI’llbeabletoholdoutthenexttimehedecideshe’sinthemoodtoseduceme.
Iftheslowheatbuildinginmybloodisanyindication,hewon’tneedtodomuchtohavemeonthevergeofbegging.He’sbarelydoinganythingnow.Iclearmythroat.“That’sabadidea.”
“Isit?”Erosdoesn’tmovehishand,doesn’tshiftagainstmeatall.Histoneissodry,hemightaswellbeaskingabouttheweather.“Psyche,I’mfamished.Letmehavealittletaste.Nothingmore.”
DidIthinkthismanwasdangerouswhenheheldmydeathinhiscoldblueeyes?Thejoke’sonme.He’sathousandtimesdeadlierwhenhe’swhisperingfilthinmyear.Iworrymybottomlip.“Yousaynothingmore,butwebothknowthat’snotthetruth.”
HeshiftsbackandIbarelygetachancetomournthelossofhistouchbeforeErospushesonmyshoulder,allbutshovingmeontomyback.Iblinkupathim.Helooks…concerned?Hisgazeflicksovermyface.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Ithoughtwewereonthesamepageyesterday.Youexplicitlytoldmewhatyouwanted.”Hehesitates.“Areyousayingyoudidn’twantit?”
Despitemybesteffortstoremaincalm,Ican’thelprespondingtohisapparentdistress.“Ofcoursethat’snotwhatI’msaying.HowmanytimesdidIcomeyesterday?I’msureyourscalpissorefromhowhardIwaspullingyourhairasIrodeyourmouth.Iwantedit,Eros.That’snotwhatI’mtryingtosay.”
ErosblinksatmeasifIjustpoppedhimonthenosewithanewspaper.“Thenwhat’stheissue?”
Myfrustrationburstslikeasoapbubble.Thereandthengoneinaninstant.“Theproblemisthatlastnightwassupposedtobeaone-off.”
Herecoversquickly,thoughthere’sstillsomesurpriselingeringonhisface.“Wejusttalkedaboutthis.‘Supposedto’is—”
“Donotplaywordgameswithme,Eros.”Imightnotactuallybeangrywithhim,butfrustrationsinksitsclawsintomeanddigsdeep.Ofcoursehedoesn’tseeanissuewithtwistingourwordstostayinbedaslongaspossible.Forhim,thisissimplypleasurewithsomeonehedesires.IwishIwaswiredlikethat.“Lastnightwasaone-off,”Ifinallymanage.“Wewerebothunderanextremeamountofstress,andit’sonlynaturaltowanttoletoffsomesteam.”
“Psyche.”Hesaysmynameslowly,hiseyesnarrowing.“Youcanrationalizeyourwayintodamnnearanythingwiththatbigbrainofyours,butdonottrytoincludemeinthosementalgymnastics.IfuckedyoulastnightforthesamereasonIateyourpussyfordamnnearanhouryesterdayafternoon—becauseIwantedyou.Stress,pheromones,orwhateverotherexcuseyou’reabouttospitatmehasnothingtodowithit.”
Nowit’smyturntoblink.“Ofcourseithassomethingtodowithit,alongwithproximity.That’sbiology.Otherwise,wewouldhavebeenattractedtoeachotherbeforenow.”
Eroslowershisheaduntilournosesarenearlytouching.“Canyouhonestlysayyou’veneverbeenattractedtomebeforeyesterday?”Hedoesn’twaitformetosputteroutananswer.“Notonceintenyearsofattendingthesameparties?NotevenwhenwewereleavingthebathroomandIhadmyarmsaroundyouthenightwewerephotographed?”
It’sreallydifficulttoarguewithhimwhenhe’ssoclose.Andsoright.“Um.”
“BecauseIwasattractedtoyou.”
SoIhadn’timaginedthatbriefflareofheatinhiseyes.Idon’tknowifthat’scomfortingorterrifying.Mycarefulwalloflogiciscrumblingaroundme.“ImeantwhatIsaidbefore;Ican’tseparateemotionfromsex.Maybeonce,butifwekeepdoingthis,thenyou’regoingtohurtme,evenifyoudon’tmeanto.”
“WhatifIdidn’t?”
Gods,whyishestillarguing?He’salreadyproventhatwhilehe’shardlyaparagonofvirtue,hedoeshavesomekindofconscience.Erosisn’tcruel.Hemightnotcareforme,buthecan’tplantoprotectmefromhismotherandthenturnaroundandwieldanemotionalknifeagainstme.“Thismarriageisoneofconvenience.Yousetthatup.”
Erosfinallysighs.“You’reright.”
IknowI’mright.SowhydoIfeelthefaintestsinkinginmychestathisagreement.“IknowIam.Ijust…”He’sagreedwithme.WhyamIstillarguing?
Erosdoesn’tmove,doesn’ttrytopresshisadvantage.Surelyheknowsthatitwouldtakeasinglekisstomakemeputtyinhishands?He’sasmartman;hemustknow.Buthesimplywatchesme,waitingformethesamewayhewaitedlastnight.
Lastnight,IcouldtellmyselfallthesamethingsIjusttoldhim.Itwasastress-baseddecision.Weneededtoletoffsomesteam.NomatterwhatpromiseImade,IhadnointentionofcontinuingtosleepwithEros.
That’swhatitboilsdownto.Intention.IfIletusblurthelinesthismorning,what’stostopusfromcontinuingtodoso?We’rebothsuchexcellentliars;throwinsex,andImightstarttobelievethefictionwespinfortherestofOlympus.
Restrictingsextoourweddingnightistheonlysmartwaytokeepmyheartintact.
“It’sabadidea,”Iwhisper.
“Isit?I’mnotsosure.”Hebrushesastrandofmyhairawayfrommyface.“IknowwhatIsaidlastnightaboutwantingachancetoseduceyouproperly,butthetruthisI’mnotgoingtopressureyou.Iwantyou,Psyche.Ifyouwereonboardwiththeidea,I’dbeokayspendingthenextthreedaysinthisbed.”
Idraginanunsteadybreath.“That’salotofsex.”
“It’dbarelytaketheedgeoff.”Hissmileisalittlebittersweet.“I’mwellawarethatI’mnocatch.There’snoreasonawomanlikeyouwouldwanttobelinkedtomeanymorethanyoualreadyare,andI’llrespectthat.”
Thehorriblemeltingfeelinginmychestfromlastnightcomesback,thistimewithinterest.I’msobusytryingtoprotectmyheartthatIneveroncethoughtmyselfcapableofhurtingEros.Evenalittle.Isearchhisface,butforonce,hedoesn’thaveamaskinplace.
Hegivesmethatcrookedsmile,stilltryingtoputmeatease.“Ican’tpromisemyvirtuousstreakwillhold,especiallyifyoukeeplookingsofuckingsexy,butyou’resafefromanyattemptedseductionthismorning.”Hestartstositup.
Igrabhisarm,myhandmovingalmostofitsownvolition.Istareatwheremyfingerswraparoundhisbicep.“Wait.”
“You’rekillingme,beautifulgirl.”Heexhalesashakybreath.“I’mtryingtodorightbyyou.”
“Iknow.”Still,Ican’tquitemakemyselfreleasehim.Myneedforself-preservationbattleswithdesireandsomethinglikeempathy.Iwanthim.Hewantsme.Imightnotbeabletoholdthecarefullinebetweenusifwekeepdoingthis,butmyreasonsforsayingnoslipawaylikethetidegoingout.“Eros.”
Hedoesn’tseemtobreathe.“Yeah?”
“WouldyouaccusemeofbeingincrediblyfickleifIchangedmymind?”
Hisslowgrinisadifferentkindofforeplay.“I’dsayIlikeyouwhenyou’refickle.”
Idon’tgetthisman.Beforethismarriage,hecouldhavenearlyanyonehewantedinOlympus.WhydoeshelookatmelikeIjustdeliveredhisfavoritepresentonChristmasmorning?It’ssotemptingtobelievethathewantsmethatdesperately,butallowingmyselftobelievethatisamistake.Lustandlovearen’tthesamething,butmybrainmightgetthetwoconfused,especiallywhenitcomestothisman.
There’snotimetothinkaboutthat,though,notwithhimeasingdownmybody,takingthecoverswithhim.Istarttoclosemyeyes,desperatetoreclaimsomeoftherapidlyclosingdistancebetweenus,buthenipsmythighashepressesmylegswide.“Don’tshutmeout,Psyche.”
“Youasktoomuch.”
“Iknow.”Hedoesn’tsoundtheleastbitsorry,either.Eros’seyeshavegonehotashelooksupmybody.ThewayhedrinksmeinvisuallyissomethingIdon’tthinkI’llevergetusedto.He’ssocontainedtherestofthetime,butthesecondIgetnaked,it’slikeabeastislookingoutatmethroughthoseblueeyes.
Hedipshisheadandthenhismouthisonmypussy.It’sdifferentfromyesterdayafternoon,whenhewasamanonamission,perfectlyfocusedonmypleasurebutwastingnotimeonmakingmecomesohard,Isawstars.
There’snoneofthatfurornow.
He’salmostlazyashelicksme.Thisisliketheoralsexversionofbrunch,likeheplanstolingerandenjoyhimself,andIdon’tknowhowtofeelaboutthat.I’vehadavarietyofpartnerswhohadavarietyoffeelingsaboutoralsex,rangingfromaboxtocheckofftogettothegoodstufftosomekindofstrangecompetitiontoprovehowmanytimestheycanmakemecome.Idon’tknowthatI’veeverbeenwithsomeonewhoseemstoloveitforitsownsake,forthepleasureitbringsthem
Ineverguessedhowmuchhotterthatwouldmakethewholeexperience.
Eroslingersovereveryinchofmypussy,seemingtosavortheexploration.It’saslowtease,anidlestrummingofpleasurethatincreaseswitheverylickandthengrowsagaineachtimehemakesthatsexylittlegrowlingnoiseagainstme,hishandstighteningonmythighsasifhe’sbesidehimselfwithneed.Hefinally,finally,workshiswayuptomyclitandrubstheflatofhistongueovermeinlittlestrokes.
Icryout,mybackbowing.“More.Please,Eros.More.”
Hisroughlaughnearlymakesmecomeonthespot.Imightbeabletogotoe-to-toewiththismanineveryotherarena,butinthebedroom,I’mhopelesslyoutmatched.Becauseitdoesn’tfeellikeamatchashistongueplaysovermyclit.Itjustfeelslikepleasure,liketwopeoplepursuingthesamegoalwiththesameintensity.HowamIsupposedtorememberthathe’stheenemywhenit’severythingIcandonottograbholdandridehisfaceuntilIcomealloverhim?
He’snottheenemy.
Thethoughtshouldcomfortme.Instead,itmakesErosevenmoredangerous.Ican’tbringmyselftoregretsayingyes,though.MaybeIwilllater,butrightnowthisfeelstoogoodtostop.
“Stopholdingback.”
Iopenmyeyes,notsurewhenIclosedthem,andliftmyheadtolookdownmybodyathim.“What?”
Erosnodsatwheremyhandsarefistingthesheets,andastrangelittlesmilepullsathislips.“Youknowyouwanttheminmyhair.”
Ido.Ireally,reallydo.WhichispreciselywhyIshouldn’t,whyIshouldtrytokeepsomepartofmewithdrawn.
Thisisn’tabattleI’mgoingtowin,though.It’snotevenoneIwanttowin.Igivemyselfovertohimwithacry,droppingbacktothemattressanddiggingmyhandsintohiscurls.Thisman’shairshouldbeillegal.It’ssoincrediblysoftandjustlongenoughtogetawickedgrip.Mylegsfallwiderwithoutmyhavinganyintentionofdoingit,andthelowsoundErosmakesisnearlyasmucharewardashistongueslidingintome.
Isthisreallyhappening?
AmI,inthesoftlightofthemorning,nakedinbedwithErosAmbrosiaandrubbingmypussyagainsthismouthashetonguesme?
There’snoroomfordoubt,forrecrimination.Later,I’llworryabouthowI’vechangedthingsbetweenus,smudgedlinesthatdesperatelyneededtoremainclear.Rightnow,I’mdancingontheedge,mybodystrummedtightwiththeorgasmbearingdownonme.Soclose…
Erosshiftsandthenhe’spressinghisfingersintome.Theshockofthepenetration,combinedwiththewayhe’sworkingmyclit,hurtlesmeovertheedge.Icryout,mygripspasminginhishair,butthepleasuredoesn’tstop.Itkeepsgoing,hismouthandhandsbuildingupanotherwaveevenbeforethefirstdissipates.
Ohgods.
“Eros.”Itugonhishair,butImightaswelltrytotugthemoonfromthesky.“Eros,wait.”
Hebarelyliftshismouthenoughtosay“Onemore.”
“Ican’t.”Ishouldn’t.
Heslowsbutdoesn’tremovehisfingers.Theentirebottomhalfofhisfaceiswetfrommydesire,andasIwatch,helickshislips.“Thatwasbarelyataste.I’mnotdone.”Hepumpsslowlyintome,penetratingme,possessingme.“Letmehavemyfill,Psyche.Youcangobacktohatingmelater.”
Idon’thateyou.EvenifIshould.“Okay,”Iwhisper.Idon’tsoundlikemyself.Idon’tfeellikemyself.Surelysomeoneelsehastakenpossessionofmybody—awanton,recklesscreaturewhocaresonlyforpleasureandtheconsequencesbedamned.
EvenifI’mtheonewhowillultimatelypaytheprice.
Ilosetrackoftime.Ofmyfears.Ofeverythingbutthetwoofusinthisbed,Erosgoingdownonmelikeheneverneedstobreathe,drawingorgasmafterorgasmfromme.
Eventuallyheslows.OrIdo.I’mnotsure.OnlythatI’mshakingsohard,it’sasifI’vejustenduringoneofCallisto’sboot-campworkouts.Erosisn’tallthatcomposed,either.Hekisseshiswayupmybodyandthenhismouthisonmine,rampingmeupdespitetheintensewaveofexhaustionthelastorgasmbrought.
MaybeI’mnotthattired,afterall.
Ipushonhisshoulders,andforamomentIthinkhe’llignoremyunspokendemand.Hefinallyleverageshimselfupandlooksdownatme.“What?”
What?
He’sjustshatteredmetopieceshalfadozentimesandthat’sthefirstthinghesaystome?
Ialmostlaugh.ImightifIcoulddrawinthebreath.“Myturn.”Ishoveonhisshouldersagain.
“No.”Hefrowns.Ifhisbreathingwasn’tjustasraggedasmine,I’dthinkhewasunaffected.Butthen,there’snoignoringthehardcockpressedagainstme,evenifheshowsnosignsoftryingtodoanythingwithit.Erosshakeshisheadasiftryingtoclearhisthoughts.“Youdon’thaveto.”
Myheartgivesanalmostpainfullurch.Erosisalwaysthefixer,theonetakingchargeandhandlingthings.It’sarolehe’sobviouslyembracedineverypartofhislife.Butnowhe’slookingatmewiththisstrangelyvulnerableexpressioninhisblueeyes,almostconfusedattheideathatImightwanttotakecareofhim,too.
Ilickmylips.“Iwantto.Stopbeingstubbornandletmesuckyourcock.”Ishoveonhisshoulderagain,andthistime,heletsmepushhimontohisback.
“Withanofferthatsweet,howamIsupposedtoresist?”Thewordsareright.Thetoneisclose.Butthewayhewatchesmemovetokneelbetweenhisthighs…
There’snodistancebetweenusnow.It’sceasedtoexist.
IfI’mnotcareful,whatIfearmostwillcometopass.I’llstarttobelievetheprettylieaboutthisthingbetweenus,ratherthanthestarktruth.
Worryaboutitlater.
Ipullmyhairbackandwrapafistaroundhiscock.He’slongandhasadeliciouscurvethatIenjoyedanextremeamountlastnight.He’salsosohard,he’spracticallythrobbing.“Poorbaby,”Imurmur.“Thislookslikeithurts.”
“Youcouldsaythat.”Hedoesn’tmove,butthetendonsstandoutinhisneck.
“Don’tworry.I’lltakecareofyou.”Myfirsttasteofhimmakesmegiddy.No,itmakesmedrunk.Isthiswhathefeelswhenhegoesdownonme?Nowonderhewasfamishedthismorning.
IlickmywaydownEros’scock,savoringeveryinchofhim.Savoringhisreactionevenmore.Everymuscleinhisbodylookscarvedfromstone,asifhe’sstrainingtoholdperfectlystill,tosubmittomymouthandnottakecontrolofthisinteraction.It’sbreathtakinglysexytofeelthispowerful.
ButIdon’twanthisrestraint.Later,maybe—whenrealitysetsinandbringsregretandadeterminationtoprotectmysoftemotionalcenter—butnotrightnow.Howfarwillheallowmetopushhimbeforehiscontrolshatters?
There’sonlyonewaytofindout.19
Eros
Thiswomanisgoingtokillme.I’mtryingsofuckinghardtorespecttheboundariessheputinplace,toplaythisslowuntilIcanseduceherthewayshedeserves,canprovetoherthatshehasnothingtofearfromme,andPsycheisoverhere,playinghertonguealongmycock,herhazeleyesflaringinachallengeittakeseverythingIhavenottomeet.
Forawomanwhoclaimsweonlyfeeldesireforeachotherasasideeffectofstress,shecertainlywatchesmelikeshewantsmetodragherupmybodyandfuckheruntilneitherofuscanwalkright.
Again.
Idon’twrapherhairaroundmyfistthewayIwantto.Ican’ttrustmyselfrightnow.“You’replayingadangerousgame.”
“We’vealreadyestablishedthatonmultiplelevels.”Shegivesmeaslowsmileanddragstheheadofmycockoverherfulllips.Thesoftesttouchthathasmefightingnottocomeonthespot.
“Psyche.”Ican’tkeepthewarningfrommytone.Can’tkeepthegrowlout,either.
Heronlyresponseistopartherlipsandswallowmedown.Gods,ImightbedestinedforTartarus,butthepurepleasureinthismomentmakesitalmostworthit.WhocareswhattheafterlifebringswhenI’mbeingtreatedtothissliceofperfectionrightnow?
Psychedoesn’tletmesinkintothemoment.Shereleasesmeandflickshertongueagainstthesensitivespotattheheadofmycock.She’swatchingmesoclosely,Ican’tshakethefeelingthatshe’stryingtoprovokeme.
Iwantherto.Fuck,I’menjoyingmytimewithhermorethanIcouldhavedreamed.Shechallengesmeateveryturn,andIdidn’tanticipatehowmuchI’dcometocravethat.
ButIpromised.“EithersuckmycockproperlyorI’mgoingtodosomethingwebothregret.”
“Thatwouldbeashame.”Sheholdsmygazeasshedragshertonguedownmylengthlikeshe’slickingameltingicecreamcone.“Suchashameifyoulostcontrol.”
Shedoesn’tknowwhatshe’saskingfor.
Idon’tknowifIcanresistgivingittoherdespitethat.
Imoveslowly,givingherplentyoftimetoreact,andwrapmyfistaroundthelonglengthofherhair.“Lastchance.”
SheflickshertongueagainstmyballsandIloseit.Idragherupmybody.Toorough.Toofuckingrough.NotthatPsycheseemstocare.Shepracticallythrowsherselfatmymouth,kissingmewithnoneoftheteasingsheexhibitedduringthatblowjob.
Iroll,topplingherbacktothebed,andthrustagainsther.Somedarkpartofmewantstotakeherupontheinvitationofherliftedhips,herthighsspreadingtowelcomeme.Itwouldbethemostnaturalthingintheworldtoslipinsidehernow,tofuckherwithoutanythingbetweenus.
Stop.
Imanagetomuscledownthedesire,butonlybarely.“Donotmove.”
“Betterhurrythen.”Sheslidesahandbetweenourbodiesandwrapsherfistaroundmycock.“I’mneedy.”
Shockstillsme.Iholdperfectlystillassherubsherpussyagainstmylength.Thewomanisplayingchickenwithmycontrol.“Psyche.”
Sheshivers.“Ireally,reallylikeitwhenyousaymynamelikethat.”
“Youwouldn’tifyourecognizedwhatitmeant.”Ilowermyselfontoher,lettingmyweightpinherinplaceandkeepeitherofusfromdoingsomethingunforgivablyreckless.Gods,shefeelsgood.Archingandstrainingandwrithingagainstme.Ihavetoclosemyeyestofocus.“IfyouknewwhatIwanted—”
“Tellme.”Thesheerneedinhervoiceshredsmycontrol.Icanfeelitsnapping,threadbythread.Hernextwordsonlymakeitworse.“Tellmeyou’respinningoutjustasmuchasIam.TellmeI’mnotinthedepthsalone.”
Ican’tdenythethreadoffearinhervoice,can’tstopmyselffromwantingtoassuageitevenifitmeansIscareherindifferentways.Icurse.“Iwanttofuckyoubare.”Damnit,whatamIsaying?It’stoomuch,toointense.Notthatitmatters.Ican’tfuckingstop.“Iwanttotieyoutomybedandhelpmyselftoeverybitofyouonmywhim.Toteaseyouandfuckyouandmakeyoucomeuntilyouknowexactlywhoyoubelongto.”
Sheinhalesharshly.“Ibelongtomyself.”
Iknowthat.It’spartofwhatmakeshersounforgivablyattractivetome.JustoneofthemanypuzzlepiecesthatcometogethertoformthiswomanwhoIcan’tgetenoughof.“Youdidn’taskmeforthetruth.YouaskedwhatIwant.”
Sheturnsherfacetomyneckandkissesmythroat.“Getacondom,Eros.”
Acondom.Right.BecauseIcannot,underanycircumstances,fuckherbare.Notlikethis,notwithoutaveryclearconversationbeforehand.OnethatI’veneverhadbefore,neverneeded.
Whatthefuckishappeningtome?
I’mspinningoutjustasbadlyassheis.I’minthedepthsbesideher.
Ittakesmoreeffortthanitshouldtomoveawayenoughtograbthecondomsfromthetopdrawerofthenightstand.Tostoptouchingherlongenoughtotearopenthewrapperandrollthecondomon
Psychedoesn’twaitforme.Shegripsmycockandguidesittoherentrance.Ifighttoholdstill,toletherguidethis,andtheefforthasmeshaking.Psyche,thelittleasshole,knowsit.Shekeepsholdofme,dippingtheheadofmycockintoherpussyagainandagain,butneverlettingmesinkmorethananinchintoher.
“Tease,”Igrowl.
She’sbreathingjustashardasIam,shakingjustashardasIam.HerhazeleyesholdachallengeIfeelrightdowntomyverysoul.“Dosomethingaboutit.”
Myleashsnaps.
Imovebackontomykneesandgrabherwrists,shiftingthemtooneofmyhandsandshovingthemupoverherhead.Shepressesagainstmyholdasifshecan’thelpherself,andherlipspartinamoan.“Yes,likethat.”
I’mfightingalosingbattle.Iwantthiswomantoodesperatelytodothisproperly.Ihaven’tactuallymanagedtomaintainenoughcontroltoseduceherthewayshedeserves.Ijustwanttofuckandfuckandfuckuntilmypresenceistattooedoneveryinchofherbody.Isettlebetweenherlegs.“Youwantmetogetroughwithyou,Psyche?Fuckyoulikeagodsdamnedmonster?”
Sheshiversharder.“Yes.”
Inotchmycockatherentrance.She’ssoakedandreadyforme,butIstillhavetoslowdownenoughtoworkmyfulllengthintoher.It’sonlywhenI’mseateddeepinsideherthatImanagetokeeptalking.“Ithinkyou’realittleliar.”
“What?”Shetriestofreeherhands,butI’mhavingnoneofit.Ifshegrabsmyasslikeshedidlastnight,sinkinghernailsin,thiswillallbeoverfartoosoon.
Inipherearlobe.“Youmightbelongtoyourself,butIthinkthesamedirtylittlepartofyouthatwantsmetofuckyouhardalsowantsmetoclaimyou.”Islideslowlyoutofherandthenbackin,teasing.“Ithinkyouwantmetoremindthispussywhoitbelongsto.”
“It’stemporary.”Shemightbetryingtosoundassertive,butitalmostcomesoutasaquestion.
“Temporaryornot,you’remine,Psyche.”Iusemyholdonherwriststoleveragemyselfupalittle,pressingthemhardtothemattress.“DoyouwanttoseehowIfucksomeonewho’smine?”
“Yes,”shemoans.
Idon’taskagain.Ilooponearmunderherthighandopenherwiderforme.AndthenIholdherdownandfuckher.There’snofinesse.Noseduction.It’spureanimalinstinct,thedesiretoclaim,theneedtomakehermineinawayI’venevermadeanyonemine.Notonce.
Ireleaseoneofherwrists.“Touchyourclit.Makeyourselfcome.”
“I’malreadyhalfwaythere.”ButshedoesexactlyasIcommand,slidingherhanddownhersoftstomachtocircleherclit.
IslowdownjustenoughthatIcanwatchmyselfslideinandoutofher,witnessthisclaiminginthemostarchaicofways.MaybeI’llregretthislaterandI’llwanttotakeitallback.Butrightnow,theonlythingIdesireistofeelPsyche’spussyclenchingaroundmycockasshecomes.
Shedoesn’tmakemewaitlong.
Herbackbowsandshenearlydislodgesmygriponherwristassheorgasms.Idon’tbreakstride.Idropdownontoher,ruttingawayevenasunforgivablewordsspilloutofme.Needingtoreassureherwithmybodyinawayshe’llneverallowmetoreassureherwithmywordsalone.“Doyoufeelthat,Psyche?I’mtheonewhomakesyoufeelthatway.I’lldoitagain,wheneveryouneedme.Againandagainandagain.”Forever.
AtleastIkeepthelastbitinternal.Barely.
Icomehard,grindingintoherasImilkeverylastbitofpleasure.Toogood.It’stoodamngoodwiththiswoman.It’sneverbeenlikethiswithanyoneelse—man,woman,nonbinary.I’vehadpartnersaplentyandit’salwaysbeenfunandmutuallysatisfactory.I’veneverhadaproblemkeepingmyleashinplace.
Sexisgreat.It’salwaysbeengreat.ButwithPsyche,itfeelsliketheaxisofmyworldhasshifted.Idon’tlikeit.IfIweresmarter,I’dcallthiswholethingoffandshipthiswomanoutofOlympus.Tritonissomeonewhoknowshowtopullthatoff.Heowesmeafewfavors,andI’dhavetocallineverysingleoneoftheminordertobookpassage.It’snotaneasyask,butit’sthebestwaytoensurePsyche’ssafetyandgetherasfarawayfrommeaspossible.
Ifshestayshere,stayswithme,Ican’tshakethefeelingthatI’llsmotherherkindheartinawayshe’llneverrecoverfrom.
Butasshestretchesnexttomeandmakesalittlecontentednoise,IalreadyknowI’mnotgoingtosendheraway.I’mtoofuckingselfish.
Psycheismine.
Shejustdoesn’tknowityet.
Imanagetodragmyselfoffherlongenoughtodisposeofthecondom.ImakeitquickbecauseI’mnotabouttoleavethisbedbeforeweabsolutelyhaveto.Thankfully,IfuckedPsychedamnnearcomatose.SherollsslowlytofacemeasIclimbbackintobed.“Ihaveaquestion.”
Okay,she’snotcomatose.Ibarelymanagetoresisttheurgetokissherandderailwhateverherquestionis.ThetruthisthatIkindofwanttoknow.“Yes?”
Hergazetrailsdownmychestbeforeshedragsitbacktomyface.“Isitalwayslikethiswithyou?”
Irelaxdownnexttoher.“Iswhatalwayslikethis?”Iknowexactlywhatshe’sasking,butIwanttohearhersayit,toputvoicetosomethingI’mbarelyreadytoadmittomyself.
We’respinningoutandinthedepthstogether.
“Don’tplaycoy,Eros.Itdoesn’tsuityou.”Herlipsquirk,whichonlyservestoremindmewhattheyweredoingnottoolongago.“This.Sex.Isitalwayslikethiswithyou?”
“I’mgoingtoneedyoutobemorespecific.”
“No,youaren’t.You’rejustfishingforcompliments.”Shereachesoutasifshecan’tquitehelpherselfandtugsononeofmycurls.Finally,shesays,“Isitalwayssointense?So…overwhelming?”
No.It’sneverlikethis.“You’resayingsexhasn’tbeenlikethisbeforeforyou?”
ShelooksawayandIallowit.I’mfeelingprettyfuckingvulnerableallofasudden,too.Psycheshakesherhead.“No,it’snotlikethiswithotherpeople.Ithasn’tbeenbadoranything,justdifferent.”
Apartofmewantstoshyawayfromadmittingit’sthesameforme,butthelargerpartwantstousethisknowledgetobindustogethereventighter.Ipressonefingertoherchin,guidingherfacebacktome.“Ithasn’tbeenlikethisforme,either.”
“Don’tlietome.”
“Iwon’t.Ipromise.Welietootherpeople,butnottoeachother.Notgoingforward.”Ihesitate,butthevulnerabilityinhereyesdrawsforththetruth.“Iseduce,Psyche.I’mactuallyquitegoodatitwhenI’msoinclined.Ineverlosecontrolenoughtobeoverwhelming.Notwithanyonebutyou.”
“Oh.”
Igiveheramockfrown.“Oh?That’sallyouhavetosay?”
Shetrailsherfingersupmyarmandbackdownagain.“Eros?”
“Yeah?”
“Wehaven’tleftthebedyet.”
Igrinandpressherbackagainstthemattress.“Wesureasfuckhaven’t.”20
Psyche
I’veneverbeenarecklesswoman.I’vebentoverbackwardtoensurethatIcouldanticipateanyoutcome,couldbeseveralstepsaheadofanyopponents.AsadaughterofDemeter,carelessnesshasconsequencesandsoI’veavoidedit.
Untilnow.
SpendingthedayinbedwithErosisamistake.Iknowit’samistake,buteverytimeIconsidergettingupandfacingtherestoftheworld,hekissesmeortouchesmeor,gods,justlooksatme.Andthenwe’reoffagain,workingeachotherintoafrenzyoflustandneed.Ifitwerejustthat,maybeIcouldconvincemyselfthatIhaven’tveeredoffthepathtothepointofnoreturn,haven’tdriventhisplanrightoffacliff.Exceptwespendseveralhourscatnapping,curledaroundeachotherasifwe’renewlywedsintruth,ratherthanpretendingtobesimplytoserveapurpose.
BythetimeIcannolongerignorethegrowlingsoundsmystomachmakes,it’searlyevening.Ishovehimbackandpracticallythrowmyselfoffthebed.“Ineedtoeat.Ineedtoshower.”
“I’lljoinyou.”
“No!”Iscramblebackastep,panicrisingbecauseofhowbadlyIactuallydowanthimtojoinme.Ineeddistance,andIneeditnow.“Givemeafew,okay?”
Eroswatchesmeclosely,andit’spainfultowitnesshiswallscomebackup.Ihadn’tevenrealizedthey’dincheddownatsomepointduringtheday.BeforeIcanchangemymind,he’sbacktothecoldlycalculatingmanI’veknownhimtobeuptothispoint.“Takeyourtime.I’llputtogethersomethingtoeat.”
“Okay.”IbarelywaitforhimtopullonapairofpantsandleavetheroombeforeIgrabmyphoneandrushintothebathroom.Itseemssillytolockthedoor,butI’lltakeanythingtomakemefeelmorecenteredrightnow.Iturnonthewaterandstareatmyselfinthemirror.
Ilooklikeamess.
There’swhiskerburnonmyneckandchestand,really,myentirebody.RedmarksfromEros’sfingerspressingintomyhipsandthighswilllikelyturnintobruiseslater.Thesensorymemorythreatenstooverwhelmme,andIshiver.ThisisexactlywhyIshouldn’thavesleptwithhim.InsteadofthinkingaboutournextmoveandabouthowtocounterwhateverliesAphroditedecidestospin,I’mthinkingabouthowgooditfeltwhenheslidhishandbetweenmylegsand…
Gods
Igripmyphonetightly,butwhoamIsupposedtocall?Callisto?She’sgoingtoripmeanewonethefirstopportunityshegets.Persephone?She’salreadymadeherthoughtsonthismarriageclear;she’snotgoingtohavesympathythatI’msuddenlyhavingsecondthoughtsaboutthewholething.Nottomentionifshefoundoutwhattheotheroptionwas…
No,Ican’tcallher.Ican’tcallanyone.
Itakeadeepbreathandsetthephoneonthecounter.Thisisn’tthefirsttimeOlympuslifehasoverwhelmedme.IalreadyhavethetoolsIneedtosteadythegroundbeneathmyfeet.Ihope.
Despitemypromisetobequick—nottomentiontherelativelylatehour—Itakeadecentlylongshowerandthenputmyselftogether,piecebypiece.Hairdriedandstraightened.Subtlebutflawlessmakeup.Iduckintothesparebedroomandpullonapairofleggings,knitsocks,andmyfavoriteoversizesweater.Relaxed,butphotoready.It’senough.Ithastobe.
ImakemyselftakethetimetostageaphotographinthefadingsunlightfilteringthroughEros’sgiantwindows.It’snotuptomyusualstandards,andittakesmetenpicturestonailthesoftandhappysmilethatI’maimingfor,butit’lldountilIcangetsomemorecontentcreatedinthemorning.Itypeoutahappy,sappycaptionasIheaddownthehallway.
IfindErosinthekitchen,sippingfromaglassofwineandstaringoutthewindow.HeglancesoverwhenIwalkintotheroom,buthisblankexpressiondoesn’tchange.“Tomorrow,we’regoingout.Thelongerwestayclosetedinthepenthouse,themoreopportunitywegivemymothertocreateanarrativewedon’twant.”
Reliefandsomethingakintodisappointmentcoursethroughme.Thisisfamiliarterritory;manipulatingthepaparazziiswhatI’mgoodat.Ifwefocusonthat,Idon’thavetothinkaboutthefactthatIreally,reallywanttoclosethedistancebetweenusandkissErosforallI’mworth.
Ituckastrandofhairbehindmyear.Icandrivemyselfupthewalltryingtoanticipatewhatanglehismotherwilltake,butattheendoftheday,ourbestdefenseistostickwithouroriginalplan.“Doyouwantthegiddynewlywedexperienceorthepoisedandperfectone?”
“Howaretheydifferent?”
“Giddymeansthatwevisittheoutdoorgardensintheuniversitydistrictandcuddleclosewhilewewalkthepaths,followedbygoingtooneofthesmallerbarstogetalittletipsyandpretendlikewe’retheonlyonesintheroom.PoisedandperfectisdinnerattheDryad.”
Hisbrowsrise.“EvenIhaveahardtimegettingintotheDryadonamoment’snotice.”
“I’msurprisedyoucangetinatall.PanhatesAphrodite,andI’msurethatextendstoyouaswell.”
Eros’sslowsmileaffectsmeevenmorethanitdidthefirstfewtimesIsawit.NowIknowhelooksexactlythesamewhenhe’splanningoutwhatdeliciousthingshewantstodotomybody.Ifightbackashiver.Heseesit—ofcoursehedoes—andhissmilewidens.“PanandIhaveanunderstanding.”
Thatdrawsasurprisedlaughfromme.“Don’ttellmeyou’veseducedhim,too.”
“Psyche.”Gods,everytimehesaysmyname,it’slikeaninvitationtodosomethingI’msuretoregret.“I’mhurtbyyourinsistencethatI’mmovingthroughOlympus,leavingatrailofloversbehindme.”
“AmIwrong?”
Hechucklesandduckshisheadalittle.It’shorrifyinglycharming.“Dependsonwhoyouask.”
Thisisbad.IneedtobefocusingontheplanratherthanhowattractiveErosiswhenhe’sbeingself-effacing.“AndifIaskPan?”
“He’darguethatheseducedme.”
Ofcoursehewould.PanisevenmorenotoriousthanErosisforspreadinghischarmsfarandwide.Ishakemyhead,amuseddespitemyself.“Backtomyoriginalquestion;giddyorpoised?”
“Giddy.”Hedropsthesmile,butsomethingaboutitlingersinhiseyes.“Thisisaloveaffair,andifwelooktoopracticed,peoplewilldoubtthatit’srealandgivemymothertheopportunitytocapitalizeontheirdoubt.Thefactthatneitherofusdoesthegiddy,foolishthingnormallywillonlyhelpsellthisstory.”
“Iagree.”
Hecrosseshisarmsoverhischest.“Thenwhyevengivemeanoption?Whynotsimplylayouttheplan?”
Ican’tquiteholdhisgaze.“You’reinthis,too.It’simportantthatwe’reonthesamepage.”
“Sure.”Heshrugs.“Butwe’vealreadyestablishedthatthisisyourdomainmorethanit’smine.”
“Still.”
Erosdropshisarmsandmovestowardme.It’severythingIcandotoplantmyfeetandnotscrambleawayfromhim.Oratleastthat’swhatItellmyselfasIwatchhimapproach.I’mcertainlynotholdingmybreath,waitingtoseewhathe’lldonext.Heleansdownuntilourfacesareeven.“Sillyme.Ithoughtitmightbebecauseyou’redoubtingyourinstincts,butyou’renotthatridiculous.”
Myskinheatsinawaythathasnothingtodowithdesire.“Excuseme?”
“You’redoubtingyourself.Stopit.”
Istraightenmyspineandglareathim.“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout.I’mnotdoubtingmyself.”
“Liar.”Hesaysitalmostfondly.ErosturnsawaybeforeIcanformaresponse.“Food’sready.”
Iwatchhimpulladelicious-smellingcasseroleoutoftheoven,notsureifIwanttoletthisgoornot.“Youdon’tknowme.”
“Youkeepsayingthat.”Hespoonsplentifulportionsontotwoplatesandpassesmeone.“Ithinkwe’veestablishedthatIknowenough.”
Ifollowhimaroundthecornertoasmallformaldiningroom.It’sjustasminimalistastherestofthehouse—giantwindows,asquaresteelandmarbletable,andawallbareofanythingbutalargemirrorwithageometricblackandwhiteframe.Hesetshisplatedownandwalksoutoftheroom,reappearingafewmomentslaterwithhiswineglassandasecondonethatheplacesinfrontofme.Itfeelsvery,verystrangetositinthisroomacrossfromEros.Asifwe’reeatinginamuseumorsomething.“Areyousureyouactuallylivehere?”
Hesparesmeaglance.“Noteveryoneleavesatrailofclutterbehindthemasevidenceoftheiroccupancy.”
Itense,butthere’snojudgmentinthesentence,justasimplestatement.“I’mnotamessyperson.”
“Isaidclutter,notmess.They’redifferent.”Hestaresathisplate.“Beyondthat,Iliveherealone.Thereisnofamilytoimprinttheirpresenceineveryroomthewayitisatyourmother’splace.”
“Youkeepbringingthatup.Why?”Ibracemyselftodefendmyfamily.Wemightnotalwaysgetalong,butI’llbedamnedbeforeIletanyonedisparageus.EvenEros.EspeciallyEros.
Buthesurprisesme.“Itfeelslikeahome.It’s…novel.”
“Novel,”Irepeat.“Howcanitbenovel?You’reonly,what,twenty-eight?”
“Yousaythatlikeyoudon’tknow.”
Iblushalittle,becauseofcourseIknowhowoldheis.Wemightnothaveknowneachotherbeforenow,butIhaveatleastbasicknowledgeofeveryonewhoisclosetothevariousmembersoftheThirteen.“Youhaven’tbeenlivingalonesolongthatyou’veforgottenyourchildhoodhome.”
Hefiddleswithhisfork.“Youknowwhomymotheris.Doyoureallythinkmychildhoodhomewasevenremotelyaswarmasyours?”
“Well,itcan’tbethatwarmifit’sdesignedlikethisplace.”
“What’swrongwiththisplace?”
Iflickmyfingersatthemirrorbehindme.“What’swithallthemirrors?Icantheoreticallyunderstanditinthefoyerasanartthing,andeveninthebedroomasakinkything,butthey’reeverywhere.”
“Ah.”Hestaresathisplateforalongmoment.“Imostlyletmyinteriordecoratordotheirthing.Itwaseasier,andit’snotlikeIhavestrongopinionsaboutit.”
ThisinteriordecoratorissomeonehiredbyAphrodite.I’dbetasignificantamountofmoneyonit.Ihesitate,tryingtoparsemywaythroughthiswithoutsoundinglikeacompleteasshole.“Eros,thisisyourhome.You’reallowedtoputyourstamponit.”
“AmI?”Hismouthtwists.“Isupposethatdependsonwhoyouask.”
Iopenmymouthtokeeparguing,butmybraincatchesuptomytonguebeforeIcanmakeacompletefoolofmyself.It’smorethanobviouswhohe’stalkingabout.Still…“IknowAphroditeisn’taverygoodmother,but…”
Hegivesmeasmiledevoidofhisnormalcharm.“There’sno‘but’inthatsentence,Psyche.I’mgladthatyougrewupinaplacethatfeelslikeahomeandthatDemeterpreservedthatfeelingevenifthingschangedafteryoumovedhere.It’sjustnotmyexperience.”Hegoesbacktoeatingasifthesubject’sclosed.
Isupposeitis.
Imadefunofthispenthousethefirstnighthere.Icontinuedtopokeathisdesignchoices,assumingthat,atleastinthis,heisasclichédashepretendstobe.Theplayboymillionairewithmoremoneythantaste,whomistakesminimalismforthepeakofstyle.Themoresoulless,thebetter.
Excepteverytimehetalksaboutmymother’shome,there’sathreadofsomethinginhistonethat’salmostlike…longing.
Ilookaroundthediningroomagain,mymindwhirling.“Wouldyoubeopposedtomymakingsomechanges?”Iholdupahandwhenheliftshisbrows.“Nothingtoointense.Justafewthingstoputalittlebitofmystamponthespace,too.”Ihonestlydon’tmindthesheernumberofmirrors,buttheyneedsomethingtosoftenthem.
ThesmileErosgivesmehasmyheartflutteringinmychest.“I’dlikethat.”
“Good,”Isaysoftly.It’sasmallthing,butitfeelsverylarge.Toolargeformetolookatclosely.Instead,Ifocusonmymeal.
Ieatslowly.Thefoodisgood,butit’sthesilencethatcomfortsme.It’snotstrained.IhavethestrangefeelingthatEroswouldbeperfectlycontentoccupyingthesameroomforhourswithouttalkingifhehadnothingtosay.Hemightpretendtobetheprettyplayboy,buthedoesn’trunhismouthforthesolepurposeofhearinghimselftalk.
I’vealwayslikedsilence.Ithinkitcomesfromlivingwiththreesistersandamotherwhoarealltalkers.Theytalkwhenthey’rehappy,sad,angry,orevenbored.Nooneinmyfamilywouldbecontenttoeatamealwithoutfillingtheroomwithsomekindofrunningcommentary.There’sacomfortinthat,butwhenmystresslevelreachesacertainpoint,itbecomesjustonemorethingthatweighsonme.IlikethatErosdoesn’thavethesameurge.Itmakesthisspacefeelalmostsafe.
AfeelingImostcertainlycannotafford.
Itakeahastysipofwine.SinceEroswasinasharingmoodearlier,there’ssomethingIdesperatelywanttoknow.Nowseemsasgoodatimeasanytoask.“I’dliketoaskyouaquestion.”
“I’llconsideranswering.”
That’sfair.Iswallowhard.“Whydoyoudoit?Allthestuffyourmomdemands?Thisisn’tthefirsttimeshe’scalledforsomeone’shead.”
“Heart.”
Iblink.“What?”
“Shedidn’tcallforyourhead.Shecalledforyourheart.”Hetakesanotherbiteoffoodwithoutlookingatme.
Somehow,Iknowhe’snotspeakingfiguratively.Thethoughtalmostmakesmelaugh,butImanagetokeepthehystericalsoundinside.“Yourmotherissuchabitch.”
“Glasshouses,Psyche.”
Istarttoargue,butthetruthisthatDemeterisjustasschemingandambitiousasAphroditeis.IhavenodoubtsthatAphroditewouldleavehalfofOlympustostarveifgiventherightmotivation,andmymotherisresponsibleforseveralindividualsdisappearingmysteriously.Theremightbenobodiesandnomurderinvestigations,butI’mcertainshe’sbehindthem.Demeterjusttakesmorecaretoensurehersinscan’tbeaseasilytracedbacktoherthanAphroditedoes.Iliftmywineglass.“Fairenough.Butthat’snotananswer.”
Heshrugs.“Itstartedouteasilyenough.ShewantedmetoruinthelastApollo.IthinkIwasseventeenatthetime.”
Shocknearlyhasmedroppingmyglass.“Thatwasyou?”
“Yeah.”Hesaysitwithoutanyboastfulnessorpride.Justastatementoffact.“Ididn’tsetitup,exactly,butIwenttoschoolwithDaphne.”Hiseyesgodark.“Shewasinabadsituation,andsheknewnoonewouldbelieveherwordagainstApollounlesstherewasproof.”
Iwasn’tinOlympusthen,butIknowthestorywellenough.TheoldApollopissedoffAphroditeforsomereason,andthenextthinganyoneknew,picturesofhimandanunderagegirl—Daphne—werereleasedanonymouslytoallthegossipsites.Withthisnewknowledge,Icanseehowcarefullythosephotoswerechosen.Justexplicitenoughthatnoonecouldarguewhatwasgoingon,butDaphnewaswearinglingerie.“Didthosephotosexistbeforethatpoint?”Ordidtwoteenagersconspiretostagethem?
“Yeah.”Hedoesn’tlookatme.“ShegotthemoffApollo’sphoneoncewedecidedonacourseofaction.Itwasn’tideal,butitgothimawayfromheranditmademymotherhappytoseeApollopunished.”
Olympushasfewlines,especiallyfortheThirteen,butDaphneisArtemis’scousin,andthatpromptedafirestormthelikesofwhichOlympushadneverseen.Shedemandedhishead,andwhentheoldZeuswasn’twillingtogothatfar,ArtemisstirredupAthena,Hephaestus,Poseidon,and,nosurprise,Aphrodite.Againstthosefive,evenZeushadtodosomething.Hedidn’tkillApollo,buthecametogetherwiththerestoftheThirteenandstrippedApolloofhistitle.
Twoweekslater,hisbodywasfoundintheRiverStyx.CommonopinionisthatArtemisisresponsible,butanyproofwashedawayinthewaterandhiskillerwasneverfound.Notthatanyonelookedtoohardforanswers.
IstareatEros.“You’retheonewhocameupwiththeideatoreleasethosephotos?”Atseventeen?
Anotherofthoseshrugsthatmeanseverythingandnothing.“LikeIsaid,itwastheonlyway.”
TheonlywaytoserveAphrodite’spunishment.
TheonlywaytohelpDaphneescapehersituation.
“But…”
Hesighs.“Butwhat?”
“HowdidyougofromhelpingpeoplelikeDaphnetokillingthem?”
“Thesamewayyouboilafrog.”Iblink,andheclarifies.“Alittlebitatatime.ThefirstpersonIkilledwasamanthreateningmymother.”Hestaresathisforklikeitholdsallthemysteriesoftheuniverse.“Inhindsight,hereallywasathreat.Ithinkhewasapastlover,butheendedupstalkingheranditwasescalatingtothepointwhereshewaslegitimatelyafraid.SheandAresdon’tgetalong,sohewouldn’tprovidesecurity.SoIsteppedin.”
Idon’tpointoutthatAphroditeismorethancapableofhiringherownsecurity.Erosissmart.Heknowsthat.“Howoldwereyou?”
“Nineteen.”
Myheartachesforhim,bothnowandtheboyheusedtobe.“I’msorry.”
“Don’tbe.”Heshrugs,butit’stoostifftobeconvincing.“BythetimeIrealizedthepeoplethreateningmymotherweren’tactuallythreats,mysoulwasstainedtoomuchtogoback.Theonlypathwasforward.”Idon’tknowwhatmyfaceisdoing,butheshakeshishead.“Don’tpityme,Psyche.Ihaven’tlostasinglebitofsleepoverthethingsI’vedone,toinnocentpeopleornot.Iamasmuchamonsterassheis.”
Iknowthat.Truly,Ido.ButIcan’thelphatingherevenmoreforgroominghersontobeherpersonalfixer.Hesaysitstartedatseventeen,butIknowbetter.Togethimtothepointwherehewaswillingtostepinonherbehalf,shewouldhavestartedmuchyounger.“Youareherchild.It’sstillwrongtouseyoulikethis.”
“ThisisOlympus.There’smorewrongthanthere’sright.It’sthewaythingsare.”
Iunderstandhe’scorrect,butitdoesn’tstopthesurgeofresentment.Neitherofuschoseourroles.He’sdoneunforgivablethingsathismother’srequest.Hemighthavebeenachildwhenshestarted,buthe’snolongerone.Hecouldhavestoppedanytime.
Hestoppedforme.
Istompdownonthatthoughtbeforeitcantakemeofftherails.It’stootempting,tooseductive.Erosalreadyadmittedthathehadhisownreasonsforgivingmetheoptionofamarriageinsteadofdeath.Yes,hedesiresme,butthat’snotenoughtogoagainsthismother.Itcan’tbe.
Bestnottothinkaboutittoohard.
Ipushmyfoodaroundonmyplate.Hekeepsworkingsohardtosetusapart,toremindmethathe’saterriblehumanbeingandI’m…I’mnotevensure.Good?Thethoughtislaughable.I’vemadehardchoicessincearrivingatOlympus,andI’vedonethingsthatwerepettyandselfishanddownrightmean.
More…Idon’twantErostofeellikehestandsapart.Ihaven’tkilledanyone,butthatdoesn’tmeanI’msomeangel.“Youmightnotnumbermeamongthemonsters,butI’mnotentirelyblameless.”
Hesmileslikehe’sindulgingme.“Ohyeah?”
IrushforwardbeforeIcanchangemymind.“RememberwhenthatstorywaspublishedonMuseWatchwiththeaudioofAresrantingaboutallofZeus’schildrenbeingfailures?”
ThesurpriseonEros’sfacemakestheconfessionmorethanworthit.Hesitsbackinhischairandgrins,admirationlightinghisblueeyes.“Thatwasyou?I’dwondered.IthoughtitmightbeHelen—ithashersortofflare—butsheclaimedupanddownandsidewaysthatshehadnothingtodowithit.ThataudiowassinglehandedlyresponsiblefordrivingawedgethroughtheZeus-Aresalliancethattheyneverquiterecoveredfrom.”
Iknow.IwishIcouldsaythatwasoneofmygoalswhenIputmyplantogether,butthetruthismuchlessambitious.“Hewouldn’tleaveEurydicealone.He’dchaseheraroundZeus’spartiesandcornerhereverychancehegot.Noonewouldstepin,notevenmymother.AllshecouldtalkaboutwashowusefulanalliancewithAreswouldbeforourfamily.”Thewordstastefoulonmytongue.Ilovemymother,butshecanbeunforgivablysingle-mindedattimes.“AmarriagewithAreswouldhavekilledEurydice.Probablynotliterally,butthethingthatmakesherherwouldhavewitheredupanddied.She’snotliketherestofmysisters;she’ssoft.Iwantedtogiveherspacetopreservethatforaslongaspossible.”
Hisexpressionsobers.“Idon’tknowifyou’vedoneheranyfavorsonthatnote.”
Sadnessweighsatme.“We’reallbeginningtorealizethatnow.”WeallhavetogrowupandfacetherealityofOlympuseventually,andIcan’thelpbutwonderingifweshouldhavetorntheveilfrommyyoungestsister’seyesearlier.Maybeshewouldn’thavefalleninlovewithOrpheusandhadherhearttornasunder.Maybeshewouldhaveseenhimforwhatheis—afickleartistforeverinsearchofhismuse.Shemighthaveservedthatpurposeforatime,butitwasnevergoingtobepermanent.“Weallhavetolearnthatlessoneventually.”
“Someearlierthanothers.”Erostiltshiswineglass,watchingtheredliquidshiftwithinitsconfines.“Younevermadeamisstep.”
Ialmostlaugh.“Imadeplenty.Evenwithmymother’swarnings,IthoughtforsureOlympuscouldn’tbeascruelassheclaimed.Iwaswrong.”Somuchtoencompassthosethreelittlewords.Iwaswrong.
Everyonewassoincrediblyniceatfirst.Oh,nottheotherchildrenoftheThirteen—theygavemeandmysistersawideberth—butthosealittlefurtheroutfromtheseatofpower.Sonice.Sofriendly.Sosicklysweet.AtleastuntilIheardmyso-calledfriendsdiscussinghowdisgustedtheywerewithme,mybody,mylooks,mycountrybumpkinways.TheythoughtIwouldbemorelikeHelenorPerseusortheotherpopularchildrenoftheThirteen.Iwasawasteoftimeandspace.
Istoppedtryingtomakefriendsafterthat.ItwasthefirsttimeIrealizedmymothermighthaveapointwithhowshedealtwithpeopleoutsidethefamily.Noonewastobetrusted.Instead,theyfellintooneoftwocategories—potentialenemyorpotentialally.
Lessonsinthiscityalwayshurt,andtheinterveningyearshaven’tdonemuchtosoothethatache.Ireally,reallyhopethissituationwithErosisn’tanotherhardlessonthatI’mdestinedtolearnthroughpain.21
Eros
It’scoldasawitch’stit.I’macreatureofsummer.Ipreferthehot,lazydayswherethesunholdscourtintheskywellintothenight,everyonemovingaroundthecityinasfewclothesaspossible,andairthatdoesn’thurtmyface.Givenachoice,Iwouldhavepickednearlyanyotheractivitythanwalkingtheoutdoorgardensintheuniversitydistrict.
Still.
Ican’thelpappreciatinghowdamngoodPsychelooksinherfleece-linedleggings,slouchyoversizeknitsweater,boots,andanhonest-to-godspuffedjacket.Addinaknittedhattomatchthesweaterandshe’sdownrightfuckingadorable.Itmakesmewanttodragherbacktomyplace—ourplace—andstripheroutofthatclothing,layerbylayer.
SheleansagainstmyarmandsmilesupatmeasifI’mherfavoritepersonintheworld,andforamoment,Iforgetthatthisispretend.
Aclickofacamerasomewherenearbyremindsme.
Igiveherawarmsmileofmyown,andit’salltooeasytoconvincemyselfthatherrosycheeksareinreactiontome,ratherthantheicyair.“Couldn’twehavefoundsomewherewarmertoshowoffhowgiddyinloveweare?”
Hersmiledoesn’tfalterintheleast.Sheleansintomeandmatchesmylowtone.“It’seasiertopretendthatwedon’trealizewe’rebeingfollowedoutside.”Psychelaughsalittle.“Besides,Ilikethegardensinthewinter.”
Ilookaroundus.SomepastAthenadecidedtheuniversitydistrictreallyneededagiant,sprawlingoutdoorgardenforstudentsandprofessorstospendtimein.There’salargegreenhouseontheothersideofthepark,butPsycheseemsintentonwalkingeverypathexcepttheonethatwillleadusthere.“Idon’tgetit.There’snothingtosee.Everything’sdead.”
“Eros.”Shesmacksmyarmlightlywithherfreehand.“That’sveryglasshalf-fullofyou.Thegardenisn’tdead.It’ssleeping.”
Ieyewhatappeartobebarestickssituatedontheleftsideofthecobblestonepath.“Looksdeadtome.”
“Forsomeonewhodealsdeathonoccasion,onewouldthinkyou’dbebetterabletoidentifyit.”Shesaysitsocasually,asifshedoesn’trecognizethebarbsattachedtoeachword.
I’makiller,andsheneedstorememberit.“Psyche.”
“It’sareminder.”She’snotlookingatme.She’sstudyingthesticksasiftheyholdthesecretsoftheuniverse.“Nothinglastsforever.Notthehibernationoverthewinter,butnotthebeautifulbloomsofsummer,either.Thereareseasonstoeverything.”
Itdoesn’trequiremuchtounderstandshe’snottalkingaboutthegardenatall.She’stalkingaboutherself.Islipmyarmaroundherwaist,tuckingherinagainstmyside.Wemightbepretendingforthebarelyconcealedpaparazzishadowingus,butthetruthisthatIliketouchingher.AsmuchasI’dliketostayinthesafetyofourpenthouseandkeepworkingtoseduceheroutofherpantsagain,I’mnotabouttomissthisopportunitytodigdeeperintotheenigmathatisPsyche.“YoursistersallseemtohavesomekindofendgamewhenitcomestoOlympus.”
“Dothey?”
Weturnalmostasoneandcontinuewanderingdownthepath,deeperintothesleepinggarden.“Callistowouldburnthecitytothegroundifnoonestoppedher.Hardlessonsorno,Eurydicewantslove.IthoughtPersephonewouldfleeOlympus.”
“Circumstanceschanged.”
Circumstances.AstrangewaytosaythatDemeteressentiallysoldPersephoneintoamarriagewiththeoldZeus,sendingherdaughterfleeingovertheRiverStyxandintoHades’sarms.ThetightnessinPsyche’svoicedetersmefromsayingasmuch,though.That’sfine.Idon’treallywanttotalkabouthersisters.Iwanttotalkabouther.“You’retheoneI’veneverbeenabletofigureout.”
“AmI?”
Igiveheralittlesqueeze.“Youdamnwellknowyouare.IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dsayyouwereDemeter2.0.Yougoaboutthingsinaverydifferentwaythanyourmotherdoes,butthecunningandcarefulimagemanipulationisthesame.”Shetenses,butIdon’tlethergo.“Thatwasn’tcriticism.It’sfoolishtothinkhonestywillgetyouanythingbutaknifeinthebackwhenyou’redealingwiththeThirteenandtheirinnercircles.”
“MaybeI’mexactlywhatIlooklike.”Alittlebitternessseepsintohervoice.“Asocialiteinfluencerontheprowlforarichandpowerfulhusband.Maybeyou’veplayedrightintomyhands.”
Ilaugh.Ican’thelpit.“Ifthat’sthetruth,you’reanevenbetteractressthanIexpected.”
“Thankyou.”Sheturnsinmyarms,stillsmilingatmeasifIholdherheartinmyhands.“Timeforaphotoop,Husband.”
Husband.
Oh,Ilikethat.Ilikethatfartoomuch.
Iclaspherhips,bringingherasclosetomeaswecangetwithallthelayersofclothingbetweenus.Ourexhalesghosttheairbetweenus,butforthefirsttimesincewegotoutofthecar,Idon’tfeelthecold.HowcanIwhenPsycheissoclose?
There’snoartificeinhoweagerlyItakehermouth.I’mnotpretendingtowanther.Shemightbeadamngoodactress,butherlittleshiverandthewayshemeltsagainstmearen’tpretend,either.Iknowwhatshesoundslike,feelslike,lookslikewhenshecomesnow.She’snotfakingherdesireanymorethanIam.
Shelacesherarmsaroundmyneckanddriftsherfingersoverthesensitivespotatthenapeofmyneckevenassheopenshermouthandletsmein.Psychetasteslikethefireballcandyshehadinthecar,cinnamonandspiceandtoosexybyhalf.Ilosemyselfinthestrokeofhertongueagainstmine,inthewayshefitsagainstmesoperfectly.
She’stheonetobreakthekiss,leaningbackjustenoughtoletlooseasurprisinglyhappygiggle.“Gods,Eros.Youcan’tkissmelikethatinpublic.You’regoingtogetusintrouble.”
True?Nottrue?
Ican’tbesure.NotwhenI’mhalfasecondfromdraggingherintothegreenhouseandfindingaprivatecornertomakehercomeatimeorthree.Butno,Ican’tdothat.Wehaveobservers,andthepaparazziinOlympusarerelentless.Nomatterhowgiddywe’resupposedtoberightnow,I’mnotabouttoletphotosofmewithmyhanddownPsyche’sleggingsgopublic.
Ipressmyforeheadtohers,tryingtogetmybodybackundercontrol.“I’mgoingtogetusintrouble?”
“Yes.”Hersmilesoftensalittle.“ObviouslyI’maninnocentbystander.”
That’sthething.She’snotentirelywrong.Idon’tnormallywastetimewithguilt,butthatmustbethestrangestabbingfeelinginmyside,likesomeoneslippedadaggerbetweenmyribs.Psychehadaplanofherownbeforemymotherdecidedtopunishher,pushedovertheedgebyasimpleactofkindnessPsycheshowedme.Iwasneverpartofherplan.IfI’menjoyingtheperksofthishastilyput-togethermarriage—andIam—itdoesn’tchangethefactthatit’snotherplan.
“I’msorry.”Idon’tmeantosaythewords,butIdomeanthem.Possiblyforthefirsttimeever.“Forallofit.”
“Youknow,Ialmostbelieveyou.”Shelacesherarmthroughmineandturnsusdownthepath.“It’samootpointnow,regardless.We’regoingtomakethebestofthissituation.”
Wewalkforafewminutesinsilence.It’scomfortableenough,andoneglanceatPsyche’sfacemakesmethinkshe’slostinthoughtandfarfromhere.Idon’tmind.Idoubtsherealizesthesignificance,butIdo.
Shetrustsme.
Ilettheknowledgerolloverme,buoyme.I’vedonelittletoearnthiswoman’strust.Yes,Ididn’tkillher,butthat’stheliteralbareminimumapersonshoulddo—andIcan’tevenpretendImadethatdecisionoutofthegoodnessofmysoul.ItwasjustasselfishaseverythingelseI’vedone.Iwantedher,andthisshittysituationprovidedmeawaytotakeher.
Allbecausesheshowedmethetiniesthintofkindness.
Imightlaughifmychestwasn’tsofuckingtight.It’spatheticthatI’msostarvedforanykindofsofteremotionthatthesecondsomeonecomestomewithgentlehandsinsteadofsharpwords,I’mwillingtowalktotheUnderworldandbacktokeeptheminmylife.
Ifitwasjustthatfirstnight,maybeIcouldhaveresistedmydarkerimpulsestobundlePsycheupandhaulherbacktomyhomelikeadragonwithhishoard,butthensheshowedupforthatmeetingintendingtohelpmeagain.HowcouldIletmymothersnuffoutsuchacompellinglight?
Idon’tdeservePsyche’strust.Withanyoneelse,itwouldjustbeatooltoleverageagainstthemifthesituationeverarose.Withthiswoman?
Iwanttoearnit.
Maybeagoodwaytostartwouldtobetoofferupsomeofmyowninreturn.
Thenexttimethepathbranches,Iturnusbacktowardmycar.“Let’sgowarmupandhaveadrink.”
“Iwasthinking—”
It’smorechallengingthanIwouldhaveguessedtocutin.“I’dliketotakeyousomewhere.”
Sheblinks.“Oh.Okay.”
Noreasonfortheflutterofnervesinmystomach.It’snotlikemyregularspotsaresecrets,butI’veneverreallywantedtosharethemwithsomeoneelsebefore.InOlympus,IwillalwaysberecognizedasAphrodite’ssharpestweapon.Butinafewrareplaces,theyseemeasEros.Just…Eros.
EvenrealizingthatPsychewillalwaysseethedangerinmefirst,partofmewantshertoseetherest.Theman,fuckedupthoughheis.Shemakesmefeel…human…inawayIhaven’tinaverylongtime.Maybeever.
IwanthertoseemeasjustEros,too.EveniftheideaterrifiesmeonalevelI’mnotpreparedtodealwith.Howcouldshenotturnawayifsheseespasttheuntouchablepersonatotheroughrealitybeneath?ThebrokenbitsIkeeptuckedaway,lesttheybeusedagainstme?
Whenwemakeitbacktomycar,Iopenthedoorforherandroundtothedriver’sside.Therearethreephotographersapproaching,andthey’renolongertryingtopretendthey’reanythingbutpaparazzi.Theyrushforward,andI’mapettyasshole,becauseInearlytaketwoofthemoutwhenIpullawayfromthecurb.
Psychesnorts.“Ifwecouldavoidgettingarrested,thatwouldbeideal.”
“IfIwasnicetothem,they’dknowsomethingwasup.”
Herhazeleyeslightupwithmischief.“Godsforbid.”
“Nowyou’regettingtheidea.”Iweavethroughthestreets,headingsouthtothetheaterdistrict.It’safewblocksthatcontainatriooftheatersthatdoahandfulofproductionseachseason.Icantakeorleaveliveperformances,butactorsinOlympushaveawayofnotgivingafuckthat’sdifficulttofindonthissideoftheriver.Theonlythingtheycareaboutistheirpowerhierarchy,andaslongasAthenaandApollokeepthempaidwell,theydon’tbotherwiththerestoftheThirteen.
Mymother,inparticular,isn’toverlyfondofthisarea.Shelikesthetheaterwellenoughanddraggedmetocountlessproductionsovertheyearsinanefforttoinstillmewithculture,butthatbeganandendedwiththeshowsthemselves.Sheneverlingers,andassuch,thisareahasalwaysbeensomethingofarefugeforme.IneverhavetoworryaboutrunningintoherwhenI’mhere.IpullintothetinyparkinglotbehindtheBacchaeandturnofftheengine.
Psychepeersoutthewindow.“Interestingchoice.”
“Haveyoueverbeenherebefore?”
Sheshakesherhead.“Ihaveseasonticketstothetheater,butwenormallygetdrinksclosertohomeafterward.”TheDimitriouwomenalternatetheirtimeoutbetweentheirmother’sneighborhoodandtheblocksaroundDodonaTower,soitmakessensetheywouldchooseplacesmorefamiliartodrinkat.
Iclimboutofthecar,butthistimeshedoesn’twaitformetoopenherdoorbeforeshejoinsme.There’sstillalittlelinebetweenherdarkbrows.“Idon’tthinkthepressspendmuchtimehere.”
“Theydon’t.”Itakeherhand.“Butthetheaterpeoplearenotoriousgossipsandsothey’lldotheworkforus.”
Hereyeslightup.“Isee.Clever.”
“Ilivetoplease.”WewalkaroundthebuildingandIpurposefullyslowdown,watchingPsycheasshetakesintheoutsideoftheBacchae.Hereinthetheaterdistrict,theydon’tprizeapristinelookthesamewaysomuchoftheuppercitydo.TheyprefercharacterandtheBacchaehasitinspades.Theweatheredexteriorlookslikeit’sstoodherefortimeunknown,butthebuildingisonlytwentyyearsold,andithadthisfadedpaintjobfromthestart.
IholdthedooropenforPsycheandfollowherintotheheatofthebar.Sheshrugsoffhercoatimmediately,andafterdoingthesame,Ipressmyhandtothesmallofherbackandguideherthroughthecrowdedtablestothesmallboothinthebackcorner.I’mgladit’sopen,becauseit’sgotthebestseatinthehousetoappreciateeverythingtheBacchaehastooffer.
Sheallowsmetousherherintotheboothandfollowherin,herwide-eyedgazeonthewall.“Wow.”
“Theownerissomethingofacollector.”IsitbackandwatchPsychetakeintheobjectscrowdingthewalls.Glossynewpostersofcurrentproductionssitsidebysidewithonesfadedfromdecadesago.Anarrowledgecirclestheroomwithglasscasesfilledwithpropsandclothing,eachpainstakinglylabeledwiththeirproductionandyear.ThefaintsoundsofsomemusicalsoundtrackI’mnotfamiliarwithplayinthebackground.
Ishouldkeepquietandletherprocess,butIcan’thelpspeaking.“It’splentybusynow,butyoushouldseeitaftertheeveningshows.Theactorsandactressesandstagecrewcomein,halfofthemstillinsomekindofstagemakeup,andthingsgetwild.TheenergytheybringisunlikeanythingI’veeverseen.Theshowsarefine,Iguess,butseeingtheaftermathisalittlelikemagic.”
Shefinallydragshergazeawayfromaparticularlyintricatewhitegownandlooksatme.“I’dliketocomeheresometimeandseethat.”
“Wewill.”It’sasmallpromise,easilyprovided,butitdoesn’tchangethefactthatitfeelsprofound.
“Thisplaceisimportanttoyou.”
Ofcourseshe’dpickuponthatimmediately.She’stoosmartnottoreadbetweenthelines,andIintentionallypickedthisplacesoIcouldshareitwithher.Itugherhatoffanddropitonourpileofcoatsontheothersideofthebooth.Herhairisalittlefrizzy,butIlikeit.“Yes,it’simportanttome.”
“Thankyouforbringingmehere.”Shesmilesalittleandsmoothsherhairdown.“Thankyouforsharingthiswithme.”
Mychestfeelstootight,butIcan’tlookawayfromherhappysmile.“Yousharedthegardenswithme.Theymeansomethingtoyou,right?Arefugeofsorts.”
“Idon’tknowifI’dcallitarefuge…”Shesighs.“No,that’salie.Sorry,habit.”Psycheshakesherhead,lookingrueful.“Yes,thegardensarespecialtome.It’snotasecretthatIgotherefromtimetotime,butthereasonIdoisbecauseitremindsmealittlebitoflifebeforemovingtothecity.It’snothinglikethefarm,ofcourse,butgrowingthingssootheme.”
Thesensationinmychestgetsmoreintense,untilIcanbarelybreathepastit.“That’swhatthisplaceistome,too.NooneherecareswhoIamorwhomymotheris.ItletsmerelaxasmuchasanyonecanrelaxinOlympus.”
Psychestartstosaysomething,butshe’sinterruptedwhenthebartender,atallLatinawhosedarkhairisthreadedwithsilver,headsinourdirectionwithasmile.“WhatcanIgetyou?”
IordermyfavoriteredwineandPsycheasksforbourbon.Shecatchesmyraisedeyebrowsandblushes.“It’stheperfectwinterdrink.”
“I’mnotarguingthat.”Iknowbetterthantomakeassumptionsbasedondrinkorders,butIcan’thelpthesurprise.FromwhatI’veseen,Psychedoesn’tseemtoparty,butwhenshedoesdrink,it’saveryspecifictypeofcocktail.“Youdon’tnormallydrinkbourbon.”
“Correction:Idon’tnormallydrinkbourboninpublic.”Shegivesaslightlybittersweetsmile.“It’spartoftheimagething.PublicPsychelikesfruitydrinksandwine,dependingonthetimeofday.”
Ishakemyhead.“Theamountofthoughtyou’veputintoyourpublicimageisstaggering.Imeanthatasacompliment.”
“Thankyou.”Sheshrugs.“Itwasnecessary.You,ofallpeople,understandjusthoweffectivearmoragoodpublicpersonacanbe.”
“Yeah.”Istareoutattheroom.Instincttellsmetoleaveitatthat,butIpushpastit.Ididn’tbringherheretoshutheroutnow.“Whentheyhateyou,it’seasiertopretendtheyhatethepublicversionofyouinstead.”
“Yes,exactly.”
Iglanceather.“You’rewillingtoletthatpersonaslipabitwithme?”
“It’saspecialoccasion.”Shesmilesslowly.“AndImakeatidysumonsponsorshipsfromseveralwinecompanies.Itcan’thurtaddingsomewhiskeysponsorshipstothemixifandwhenwegetphotographedhere.”
She’sintentionallynavigatingusbacktosaferterritory.Iappreciateit.Theground’sfeelingprettyfuckingliquidbeneathmyfeetrightnow.Isearchforsomethingtosaythatwon’ttossusoffthedeependagain.“Thewinesponsorshipsaren’ttheonlyonesyouhave.”
Hersmilewidens.“No,they’renot.”
LikelyanotherreasonmymotherzeroedinonPsyche.She’ssodamnsuccessfulatwhatshedoes,evenmoresuccessfulthanAphrodite.AndPsychedoesn’thaveateamofpeoplewho’repaidsolelytomakeherlookgood.
Thebartenderarriveswithourdrinksandleavesanappetizermenubeforedepartingagain,makingtheroundstothehandfulofoccupiedtables.Therearetwogroupsofpeople,andthey’retryingveryhardtopretendlikethey’renotwatchingusclosely,buttheykeepputtingtheirheadstogetherandwhisperingwhileshootingfurtivelooksinourdirection.Nodoubtpicturesofuswillbegracingtheirsocialmediabeforetoolong.
IwatchPsychesipherbourbonandshiver,thecolorinhercheeksdeepening.Anansweringheatpulsesthroughme.“Bourbonlooksgoodonyou.”
“Eros.”Sheleansintome,herexpressionhappyevenasherwordsaredry.“Youreallydon’thavetosaythingslikethat.Noonecanhearyou.”
Idipmyheaduntilmylipsnearlytouchherear.“I’mnotsayingthembecauseIcareaboutwho’slistening.I’msayingthembecausethey’retrue.”
“Eros,please.”
Ileanbackenoughtomeethereyes.Theconversationfromthismorningplaysthroughmyhead.Wewerebothmorethanalittleoutofcontrol,bothmorethanalittleskittishabouthowintensethingshavegottensoquickly.Thesmartplaywouldbetoslowdown,togiveeachotherspacetoshoreupourdefenses
Fuckthat.“Haveyoueverbeenseduced,Psyche?Trulyseduced?”
Shelicksherlips.“Dependsonyourqualifications.”
“That’sano.”
Shemakesaface.“Fine.No.”
Igiveheraslowsmile,enjoyingthewaysheshiversinresponse.“You’reabouttobe.”22
Psyche
Erosisdangerousinathousanddifferentways,butnevermoresothanwhenhesmilesatmelikeheisnow.Likewe’resharingsecrets,likewe’resharingintimacy.It’sdifficulttoremindmyselfthatit’sallpretend.Yes,thedesirebetweenusisreal,butthat’sjustanothertooltosellthestory.It’sasideeffect,notthemaingoal.
HaveIeverbeenseduced?
Iwanttolaughinhisface.OlympuswouldhappilystrikemedownifIletmyselfbeseducedinanythingbutsecret.Therestoftheworldmighthavemovedonfromarchaicviewsofawoman’sworthbeinglinkedtovirginity,butOlympushasn’t.Atleastnotintheuppercity.Aftermyfirstdisastrousdatingexperience,alltherestweredoneinsecret.Amutuallyassureddestruction,atleastwithmyfemmepartners.Whenyou’respendingsomuchtimesneakingaroundtoseeeachother,there’snotmuchroomforseduction.
ThethoughtofallowingErostoseducemefeelsalittlelikewhatitmustbeliketojumpoutofaplane.Itmightendwithasofttouchingdown…oradevastatingembracefromgravity.Ican’triskit.
ItaketoolargeasipofmybourbonandhavetotwistawayfromErostocoughasfirelancesmythroatandlungs.“Ohgods.”
“Theyhavenothingtodowithit.”Hisvoicemaintainsthatlowertone,thesameoneheuseswhenhe’sinsideme.“Psyche,lookatme.”
Somethinguncomfortablylikedesperationlashesme.IgrabontothefirstsubjectthatIcanthinkof,onesuretodistractmefromthespellthismanweavesaroundmewithhisverypresence.“I’msurprisedyourmotherhasn’tmadeherfirstmoveyet.”
Hissmiledoesn’tdim,buttheheatdisappearsfromhiseyes.Hewindsastrandofmyhairaroundhisfinger,keepinghisheadclosetomine.“I’llseewhatIcanfindouttonightafterwegethome.There’snowayshehasn’tputsomethinginmotion;wejusthaven’tseenevidenceofityet.”
Home.
Nowthat’saterrifyingthought.Mymother’splacehasalwaysbeenhometome.WhenIagreedtothismarriage,itneveroccurredtomethatImightstarttoconsiderEros’spenthousehome,too.Letalonethatitwouldbegintohappensoquickly.
Focusonanythingbutthat.“Youmusthavesometheoriesaboutherplans.You’vehelpedherwiththiskindofthingbefore.”IneedtoremindmyselfwhyImustnot,underanycircumstances,fallforthisman.NomatterhowmuchIenjoywhatwedoinbed.NomatterhowmuchI’mstartingtoappreciatehisdrysenseofhumorandwit.NomatterhowdrawnIamtothehintsofvulnerabilityheshowsmeatthemostunexpectedoftimes.Ifanything,thosetraitsjustmakehimmoreofathreat,becauseI’mindangerofforgettingthepathwetooktogettothisplace.
Hesighs.“Isuspectshe’lltrytopryyououtofmylifefirst.Therewillbesomekindofrumorstounderminethelovestorywe’reweaving,tosuggestthatyouareinitforulteriormotives.Which,ofcourse,makesmelooklikeafool,butIexpectshe’sfuriousenoughthatshedoesn’tcare.”Idon’tknowwhatexpressionmyfacemakes,buthesighsagainandelaborates.“Shemightbeatemperamentalmonster,butshe’ssmart.SheknowsIwouldn’thavegonetotheselengthsunlessIwantedto…unlessIwantedyou.She’lltrytopoisonourrelationshipfirstsothatI’lltossyououtofmyownvolition.Mymotherdoesn’thavemuchofaheart,butinthetinysliverthatstillexists,shedoescareaboutme.”
Areyousure?
Idon’tvoicethequestion.It’sneedlesslycruel,andhe’salreadyexperiencedenoughofthatwithoutmeaddingtoit.Aparentwhocaresfortheirchilddoesn’tusethemasafixer.Erosdidn’tmagicallycomebyhisexpertise;someonehadtoteachhim.IwouldbetasignificantamountofmoneythatAphroditefacilitatedthat.Idon’tknowhowearlyitstarted,butifhewasruininglivesforheratseventeen,itbeganwhenhewasyoung.Whilehewasstillimpressionableandunderhercare.Whatkindofparentnurturestheirambitionmorethantheirchild’smentalandemotionalwell-being?
Ihavemyanswer,don’tI?
ThekindofparentAphroditeis.
ProbingintoEros’schildhoodtodismantlewhatlittlefaithhehasinhismotherisn’tonmyagenda.Itwon’tchangeanythingaboutourcurrentsituation…andIcan’tshakethesuspicionthatitwillhurthim.Instead,Ifocusonadifferentangle.“Ihavemyownmoney.WhatotherreasoncouldIhaveforseducingsweet,innocentyouintomarryingme?”
“Revengeistheeasiesttobelieve,eveneasierifwordslipsoutthatyourmothercommandedit.”
“ThepowerfulDemetersendingherdaughtertoclimbintobedwiththeenemy’ssoninordertohurtAphrodite.”It’sareach,butifthestoryiscompellingenough,Aphroditemightbeontosomething.Intheory.Iliftmybrows.“Whoisgoingtobelievethatyou,playboydarlingofOlympus,becamesoenamoredwithmethatyouthrewcautiontothewindandputaringonmyfinger?”Iknowmystrengths,butOlympusisallabouttheshinysurface.They’llseewhattheywanttosee,especiallyifitreinforcestheirbeliefsofwhatpowerandbeautylooklike.
Hecatchesmychininalightgrip,tiltingmyfaceuptomeethis.“Idon’tknow,Psyche.I’mfeelingprettyfuckingenamoredrightnow.”
Real?
Fake?
Ican’ttell,andthatscaresme.Almostasmuchasmydesireforittoberealscaresme.“You’redoingagrandjobofsellingourromance,”Ifinallymanage.
Hestrokeshisthumbovermycheekbone.“Igaveyoumyword.Noonewillharmyouwhileyou’remine.Notevenyourreputation.”
Sillytofocusonthatqualification.Didn’tIjusttellhimthismorningthatIbelongtonoonebutmyself?“I’mnotyours.”
“Thatringonyourfingersaysotherwise.”
I’dalmostforgottenaboutthering.No,that’salie.I’vefeltitspresenceasifitweighsmuchmorethanitpossiblycould.Everytimeitshiftsagainstmyskin,everytimethediamondcatchesthelight,I’mremindedofwhatwe’vedone.
TheringhasnothingonEros’sgorgeousface.Ican’tlookawayfromhim.“Bythatlogic,theringonyourfingermakesyoumine.”
“Yes.”Hesoundsfartoosatisfiedwiththat.“I’myours,Psyche.Whatwillyoudowithme?”
Thesmartresponsewouldbetoshuthisquestiondown.Toremindhimthatwearenot,infact,jumpingbackintobedtogetheratthefirstavailableopportunity.Thatthismarriageissolelybecausemylifeisonthelineandnotforanyotherreason.It’sdifficulttorememberthathere,intheintimacyofthisbooth,inalittlebarthatErostookmetobecausehelikesthisplace.Becausehefeelssafehere.“Doyoubringallyourlovershere?”Ithrowthewordslikeajavelin,desperatetoputsomekindofspacebetweenus,evenifit’semotional.
Hedoesn’tmoveback.“Idon’tbringanyonehere.Notlikethat.SometimesHelenorHermeswillcomedrinkwithme,andPerseususedtotagalongwhenwewereyounger,butlikeIsaidbefore,thisisa…”Erosfinallylooksaway,surveyingtheroomwithastrangeexpressiononhisface.“Thisisasafespace.AssafeasonecangetinOlympus.”
Ifollowhisgaze,guiltclosingclammyhandsaroundmythroat.Icatchsightofthreeseparatephonespointedinourdirection.“I’msorry.”
“Why?”
“I’veneverseenyouphotographedhereandnowyouare,andit’sbecauseyou’rewithme.”
Hislipscurvealittle.“IknewthatwouldhappenwhenIchosethisplace.There’snothingtoapologizefor.”
Insteadofabating,myguiltonlygetsstronger.“Surelyyoudon’thavesomanysafeplacesinthiscitythatyoucanaffordtoloseone.”
Hissmallsmiledisappears.Hesearchesmyface.“Areyouworried?Aboutme?”
“Yes.”Ican’tlookaway,can’tbreakthegrowingintimacyofthismoment.IthoughtIknewwhatwashappeninghere,butnowI’mnotsosure.“Iknowhowexhaustingitcanbetoneverletdownyourguard,andit’sareallyspecialplacethatallowsitoutsideyourhome.Youshouldn’thavesacrificedthat.Notforthis.Notforme.”
Hecupsmyjawanddragshisthumbovermycheekbone.“Youreallyareworriedaboutme.”
Idon’tunderstandwhyhe’snot.Icancountononehandhowmanypublicspacesaresafeformetobemytrueselfat—andstillhavemostofmyfingersleftover.Losingonewouldbedevastatingonanumberoflevels.“I’msorry.IfI’drealized—”
“Psyche.”Heshiftshishandtothespotwheremyneckmeetsmyshoulder.It’salighttouchbutpossessiveallthesame.“Beingheredoesn’tburnthisbridgeforme.Youhavenothingtofeelguiltyover.”
Howcanhenotunderstandtheimplications?Iwetmylips,tryingtothinkofhowtoexplainit.“Thesecondthosepicturesgolive,you’llgivetheuppercitysomethingitlovesaboveallelse—novelty.Peoplewillflocktothisbar,mostofthemhopingtogetachancetointeractwithyouoryourinnercircle.Itwillbecomethenewhotspot,whichmeansitwillchangethefundamentalnatureofthisplace.”I’dseenithappenbefore.I’dbeenthecauseofithappeningbefore.
Heshrugs.“Itwon’tlastforever,anditwillgivetheBacchaeaboostinincomefortheduration.Inafewmonths,oncetheyrealizeIdon’tsitinthisboothlikeatigerinacage,they’llmoveontothenextbigthing.”Heleanscloser,stilllookingatmelikeI’veamusedhim.“Thattimelinewillcompressifwe’reseenfrequentingsomeotherplace.”
“But…”
“Thenexttimewe’rehereafterthat,noonewillpayusanyattention.”Heanticipatesmyargument.“I’mnottheonlyonewhoviewsthisplaceasasafespace.Theactorsandcrewswon’tlikeallthepeopleeffectivelyplayingtourist,andtheywon’tsharephotosagain.Ifanything,doingthismakesitsaferinthelongrun.”
Iletthelogicwashoverme,letitreassureme.Itactuallymakesalotofsensewhenheputsitthatway.Slowly,ohsoslowly,theguiltfades.“Isee.”
“Ilikethatyou’reworriedaboutme.”
I’mintrouble.IfIdidn’tcareaboutthisman,Iwouldn’tcarethatoneofhissafespaceswascompromised.He’ssupposedtobetheenemy,soitshouldbeagoodthing,notsomethingtofeelguiltover.Istarttoretreat,buthetightenshisgriponmeeversoslightly.Iswallowhard,tryingtotellmyselfthattheflutteringofmypulseisfear,butIknowthetruth.It’sdesire.Gods,everythingErosdoesseemstorampupmydesireforhim.Ofcoursethiswould,too.
Ilickmylips,achinglyawareofhowhefollowsthemovement.Ihavetoputdistancebetweenus,andIhavetodoitnow.Ifhewon’tallowmetodoitphysically,thenIhavetousemywords.“I’mnotworriedaboutyou.Idon’tcareaboutyouatall.”
“Liar.”Heleansdownuntilhislipsbrushagainstmine.“Nowgiveyournewhusbandaproperkiss.Sinceyoudon’tcareaboutmeatall,itshouldn’tbeaproblemtokeepcontrolofyourself.”
Oh,youbastard.
Thechallengeroarsthroughme,drowningoutthelittlevoicewhisperingthatthisideaisevenmoreill-advisedthanmarryingErosinthefirstplace.Igriphisshirtandpullhimtherestofthewaytome,sealingourlipstogether.There’snoeasingintoit,nolightbrushingofhismouthtomine.Thekissisabattleground.Heseekstoconquer,andIrefusetobend.Giveandtakeandtakeandtake.Thesoundsoftheroomfadebeneaththebuzzinginmybody.Theroomitselfseemstodisappear.There’sonlyErosandthetasteofwineonhistongueandthefeelofhisbodypressedagainstmine.Notenough.Notnearlyenough.
Athroatclearinghasmejerkingback.Fromtheheatofmyface,Imustbecrimson,buttheflustereddesiredrainsawaywhenIrealizewho’sstandingoverourtable.
Aphrodite.
Shelooksjustasflawlessasshealwaysdoes,hersleekblondhairfallinginaperfectwavearoundhershoulders,hermakeupunderstatedbutexpert.Shesmilesatus,acurvingofhercrimsonlipsthatdoesn’treachherblueeyes.FunnyhowIneverrealizedhowsimilarEros’scoldeyesaretohers.TheonlydifferenceisthatAphrodite’sneverwarm.
Whatisshedoinghere?
Andwhycomeherself?Shecanhardlyplaytheinnocentpartyifshe’sgoingtoshowupandmakeaproductionofthings.
Erosshiftsbackfromme,andIgetthestrangestfeelingthathe’sfreeinguphimselftomoveifheneedsto.Hedoes,however,takemyhand,lacinghisfingersthroughminebeneaththetable.“Mother.”
“Son.”Hersmilewidens,apredatorscentingprey.“You’vebeenavoidingmycalls.”
“Igotmarriedyesterday.IthinkIcanbeforgiven.You,ofallpeople,knowhowaweddingcantakeoveraperson’slife.”
“Hmmm.”Sheleansforwardandrunsacriticaleyeoverme.“Ireallydon’tunderstandwhyyouchoseher.LiterallyanyoftheotherDimitrioudaughterswouldbebetter,eventheferalone.She’s…”Shelaughs,lowandthroaty.“Well,lookather.”
Theinsultslidesrightoffme.I’vebeendealingwithvariationsofitsincewefirstarrivedinOlympus.Idon’tfitintotheirnarrowdefinitionofwhatacceptablebeautyis,andthereareplentyamongtheThirteen’sinnercircleswhoaimforthelow-hangingfruitofattackingmysizewheneverweinteract.IcancountthepeoplewhoseopinionsIactuallycareaboutononehand,andAphroditesureasfuckdoesn’tnumberamongthem.
Eros,however,tensesandhistonegoespositivelyfrigid.“It’stimeforyoutoleave,Mother.”
“NotuntilI’vehadmysay.”Shepicksuphiswineglassandtakesanidlesip.
Alaughslipsfreedespitemybestefforts.Shereallyisunimaginative,isn’tshe?Whenshefrownsatme,Ifeelcompelledtoexplain,ifonlytoseethelookonherface.“Whynotliftyourskirtandpeeonhisfoot?Itwillaccomplishthesamething.”
“Crudething,aren’tyou?”
“Ipreferhonest.”
“Ihonestlydon’tcarewhatyouprefer.”Shesetsdowntheglasswithaclink,whichisrightaboutthemomentIrealizewehavetheundividedattentionofeveryoneintheroom.Wonderful.
Ikeepmysmileinplace,thoughit’sachallenge.Idon’twanttosmileatthiswoman.Iwanttothrowmybourboninherfaceandlightamatch.Thesheerforceofmyviolentthoughtsnearlyderailsmyconcentration.I’mnotonetoletemotionsgetthebestofme,butI’vealsoneversatacrossthetablefromapersonwhowantsmyliteralheartonaplatter.
Thebloodwouldmatchherlipstick
AphroditelooksatEros,who’sstillsotense,it’sasifhe’scarvedfromstone.Shesighs.“Isupposeeverychildmusthavearebelliousstage.You’vesimplycometoyourslate.”
“Don’t.”
Sheignoreshim.“Onoccasion,it’samother’sroletosavetheirchildrenfromthemselves.”Aphroditesmoothsdownherdress.“I’vebeencleaningupEros’smessessincehewasachild.Thisisnodifferent.”
Eros’smesses.Asifhedecidedtowadeintothemuckofhisownfreewill,ratherthanbeingshovedtherebytheonepersoninthisgodsdamnedcitywhoshouldhavebeenprotectinghim.Nowshe’lldoitagainandpretendshe’sdoinghimafavor,ratherthanpursuingherownselfishagenda.
FuryunlikeanyI’veeverknownragesthroughme.“Aphrodite.”Idon’traisemyvoice,butIdon’thaveto.Shestopsandlooksbackatme.Idon’tmakeherwaitlong.“It’samistaketoignoreyourson’swishes.Attemptingtoruinmyreputationwillsplatterhisaswell.”
“Don’tmakethreatsthatyoucan’tfollowthroughon,littlegirl.You’reswimmingwiththebigfishnow.”Hersmilewidens.“Youshouldbeworryingaboutmorethanmyson’sreputation.Awidowerinspiresallsortsofsympathy,especiallyifhewastakeninbyalittleupstartslut.”
Awidower
Mymaskslips.“Butwe’remarried.”
“Idon’tseewhatthathastodowithanything.”Shelooksbetweenusandburstsoutlaughing.“Oh,yousweet,simplechildren.Didyoureallythinkthatfarceofaceremonywouldbeenoughtochangeyourfate?It’sbarelyaspeedbump.Enjoymysonwhileyoucan,Psyche.Thismistakewillberectifiedsoon.”Sheturnsandstridesoutofthebar,everyeyefollowingher.
Fuck.
Erosexhalesslowly.“Godsdamnit.”Hetenses.“Weneedtogetoutofhere.Rightnow.”
Ikeepmysmileinplacebecausewe’rebacktobeingthecenterofeveryone’sattention.“Wecan’tleaveyet.”
“Psyche.”
“Weareahappycouple.”Ispeakslowly,stillsmiling.“Yourmothermightnotapprove,butshe’snottheonewe’retryingtowinover.”
“Winover?Whogivesafuckaboutwinninganyoneover?Shejustsaid—”Hetakesabreath,andthenanother.Afterasmalleternity,whenI’msureI’velosthim,hisshouldersrelaxandheslouchesbackagainsttheboothnexttome.Idon’tbreatheasighofrelief,butit’saclosething.Erosliftsourinterlacedfingerstokissmyknuckles.“I’llkeepyousafe,”hemurmursagainstmyskin.
Godshelpme,butIalmostbelieveit.IthoughtIfeltfearsittingacrossfromErosinthatseedylittlebarwhilehecasuallythreatenedme.It’snothinglikeIfeelnow.Aphroditewon’tstop.MaybeIamthesweet,simplechildsheaccusedmeofbeingbecauseIamlegitimatelyshocked.Iwaspreparedtosteptothelineandbattleformyreputation.
Ididn’tthinkshe’dcontinuewithherplantokillme.
“Themarriagewassupposedtochangethings.”
“Ithoughtitwould.”Thewordsarelowandtight.“Ithoughtitwouldbeenoughtodeterher.Itdoesn’tmatter.We’llfindawayforward.Youhavemenow,andI’llbedamnedbeforeIletanyonelayafingeronyou.”
Iwanttobelievehim.Iwanttosodesperately,itmakesmeshake.Becauseofthatdesperation,Iforcemyselftosay,“Younevertoldmewhatyougetoutofthis.”Whenhejustlooksatme,Imakeavaguemotionwithmyfreehand.“Thewedding,thedeception.”
“Iwouldthinkit’sobvious.”Hebrusheshislipstomyknucklesagain.“Igetyou.”23
Eros
WehaveanotherroundofdrinksbeforeIpayourtabandtakePsychehome.Shedoesn’tletherpublicpersonasliponce,butIcanseethestrainaroundtheedges.Allbecauseofmymother.Iknewshewouldtrysomethingeventually,butevenIdidn’texpectthis.Shestillintendstogothroughwiththeoriginalplan.Idon’tknowifmemarryingPsychewaswhatpushedhertoofar,buttherewillbenotalkingherdownfromthisledge.Shemeanstothrowherselfoveritanddragusdownintheprocess.
Psychedoesn’tspeakuntilweclosethedoorofthepenthousebehindus.“Ithoughtthemarriagewouldwork.”
“Idid,too.”
“Didyou?”Shehardlysoundslikeherself.“Orwasthisallpartoftheplan?Threatenme,humiliatemymotherbymarryingme,andthenkillme?”
Thatstopsmeshort.“Youdon’tbelievethat.”
“Idon’tknowwhattobelieve.”Psychedragsherhandsthroughherhair.“ButIsupposeyou’reright.Ifyouintendedtobecomeawidower,Aphroditewouldhavenoreasontoambushus.”Sheglancesatme,herexpressionsoftening.“Sorry.I’msowrappedupinmyhead,Ididn’taskhowyou’reholdingup.”
Mythroatgoesalittletight,butIbreathepastit.“Don’tworryaboutme.I’mnottheonebeingthreatenedrightnow.”
“Yourmotherjuststeamrolledrightoveryouasifyouwereachild.Thatcan’tfeelgood.”
Itdoesn’t.Itreallyfuckingdoesn’t.Butthen,IhavenoillusionsabouttheroleIplayinmymother’slife.Alwaysinsupportofherambitions,herneeds,herwhims.Shemighttoleratemyoccasionalpushingback,butIamatoolforhertopickupanduseatherleisure.
Isigh.“Mymotherisasimplecreaturewhenitboilsdowntoit.ShelavishespraiseandrewardsonmewhenIdoexactlywhatshewants,andshepunishesmewhenIstepoutofline.IwentagainstherwillwhenImarriedyou,sopunishmentitis.”Onthesurface,Isupposethat’showmostpeopleparent.Ihonestlyhavenoidea.Itjustfeelssofuckinginsidiouswithmymother.
“Eros,that’sterrible.”
Iletherconcernwashoverme.Itfeelsgood,farbetterthanIdeserve.“Don’tworryaboutme,Psyche.We’llfindawaythroughthis.”
Foramoment,Ithinkshe’llkeeparguing,keepdigging,butshefinallynods.“Weneedtotalkaboutnextsteps.”
“Notyet.”Itakeherhand.Ienjoytouchinghersomuch,andnoteveninawaythat’sconfinedtosex.ItstillfeelsalittlebafflingthatIcandoitwheneverIwant.Thiscasualintimacymightbeasmallthing,butit’sanexperienceI’veneverhadbefore.More,touchinghercalmsmeinawayI’mnotpreparedtodealwith.“Iwanttoshowyousomething.”
“Eros.”Shegivesanexasperatedsigh.“Idon’tthinkshowingmeyourdickrightnowwillsolveanyofourproblems.”
“Ha-ha,veryfunny.”Ileadhertothelockeddooracrossfrommysaferoomandpullhertostandbeforeme.“Payverycloseattentionandmemorizethis.”Itypeoutthecodeslowly.“Repeatitbacktome.”
Psychedoes,flawlessly.“Whatisthis?”
Insteadofansweringwithwords,Ipushthedooropenandnudgeherinaheadofme.Idon’tlethergetfarbeforeIturnherbacktothedoor.“Thisisreinforced.Itcantakemachine-gunfirewithoutpunchingthrough,atleastlongenoughforAres’speopletoshowup.Thewallsarethesame.”
Hereyesgowide.“That’salotofreinforcement.”
“It’sasaferoom.Ifyou’rehomealoneforsomereasonandgetspooked,comehere.Ikeepseveralburnerphonescharged,soyoucancalloutforhelp.”Imotiontothebright-redboxnearthedoor.“ThiswillcallAres’sforces.”
Ifanything,hereyesgetwider.“Notthepolice?”
“Thepoliceareforcivilians.”Itstandstoreasonthatshe’ddefaulttothepoliceinasituationlikethis,though.ThecurrentAresandDemeterdon’tgetalong,soofcourseshewon’ttrusthisprivatemilitarywiththesafetyofherfamily,evenifthat’stheirofficialrole.MostoftheThirteenhavesomesortofprivatesecuritytheycontractforthemselvesandtheirfamilies,butwecan’ttrustAphrodite’speopleforobviousreason.No,ithastobeAres.
Shegivesherselfalittleshake.“Isupposethat’sfair.”Psycheturnsandlooksatthetrioofmonitorssetuparoundmychair,atthefilingcabinets.“Thisisn’tjustasaferoom.”
“No,it’snotjustasaferoom.”
Sheglancesatme.“You’reputtinganundeservedamountoffaithinmebygivingmeaccesstoallthis.”
IshrugwithanonchalanceIdon’tfeel.“IpromisedthatI’dkeepyousafe.Thatpromiseextendstowhenyou’renotinmypresence.ThisisoneofthesafestspotsthissideoftheRiverStyx.NotevenHermescangetinside.”
Shelooksattheroomwithnewappreciation.“Thatissafe.Iswearthatwomanishalfghostandcansiftthroughthevents.”
“Nothingsoexciting.She’sjustanexcellentthiefandhacker.”ShewaslongbeforeshebecameHermes,butthatpartisn’tknownpublicly.Infact,notmuchatallisknownpubliclyabouther.Sheprefersitthatway.
“Youtalklikeshe’safriend.”
“She…is.Orasneartoitasonegetsinthiscity.”
Psyche’ssmileisbittersweet.“Olympuscontinuestobequitethequalifier.”
“It’shome.”
“Yes,Isupposeitis.”Shepressesherlipstogetherasifnotsurewhattosay.“Thankyouforshowingmethis.Ipromisetotrynottoabuseit.”
Thatdrawsalaughfromme.“Iappreciateyourattemptatrestraint.”WegobackintothehallandIhaveherinputthecodeenoughtimesthatI’msureshecandoitunderduress.We’lldothisinacoupleofdaystobesure,butit’sthebareminimumIcanaccomplishrightnow.ItdoeslittletocombathowloosearoundtheedgesIfeelatthethoughtofmymother’sknifepointedinPsyche’sdirection.Ipromisedthatthismarriagewouldchangethings,andintheend,it’schangednothing.
Aphroditehasmadealiaroutofme.
Weenduptakingthetimetochangeintomorecomfortableclothingbeforeretreatingtothelivingroomtotalkstrategy.AsmuchasIdon’twantPsyche’sideaof“organization”spillingalloverthemasterbedroom,partofmeintenselydislikesthewaywehaveseparateclosets.Idon’tknowwhatthefuckthat’sabout.Asshepointedoutbefore,plentyofcoupleshaveseparaterooms,andwehavehardlyanythingresemblingatraditionalrelationship.
Still.
Psychesitsontheothersideofthecouch,andIallowthatspace,butIreachdownandgrabherfeet,liftingthemtoperchonmythigh.HerfrownmorphsintosurpriseasItakeonefootandbegintomassageit.“Ohgods,whatareyoudoing?”
“Thoseheeledbootsweresexy,buttheylookuncomfortable.”
“Theyareuncomfortable,butthat’sthelifeofaninfluencer.”Shemeltsdownagainstthecouchuntilshe’salmostprone.“Ican’tthinkwhenyou’redoingthat.”
Idigmythumbintoherarch,causinghertoemitadamn-near-sexualmoan.“Sureyoucan.Weneedtocomeupwithanewplan.”
Shemakesanotherlittlewhimperingsoundandrallies.“Pause.”
Igostill.“What?Pause?Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Just…pause.”Shepullsoutherphonewithalookofutterconcentrationonherface.“Canyoutiltyourheadalittletotheleftsoyoucatchthelight?Yes,likethat.”
Bemused,Iallowhertoarrangemelikeahuman-sizeddollandsnapapicture.Sheturnsherphonetomewithoutmeaskinghertoshowme.It’s…reallygood.Ilookrelaxedandhappy,loungingonthecouchwithmywife’sfeetinmylap.“You’rereallygoodatthis.”
“I’vebeendoingitlongenough;Ikindofhavetobe.”Shestartstypingonherphone.
Iwon’thaveherfullattentionuntilshepoststhepicture,soIsettleintowait.Itdoesn’ttakeherlong.Shesighsandsetsherphoneaside,givingmeherfullattention.“Theplan—”
“Ididn’tmeanaboutthesocial-influencerthing,thoughyouaregoodatthat.Imeantthepictures.Doyoueveruseanactualcamera?”
“Notreally.”Psycheshrugs.“Imean,therearephotoshootsandstuff,butyoucanaccomplishalotwithacameraphonethesedays.Besides,it’skindofafunchallengetogetthephotosIwantwithjustthephone.”
“Considermeimpressed.”AndIam.ItseemslikeallIbringtothisworldisugliness.Deathandpain.It’sneverreallybotheredmebefore.Olympusmightlookgorgeousonthesurface,buttheprettyisonlyskindeep.Onceyoudigalittle,allyoufindisrot.
Thoughthatruledoesn’tseemtoapplytothewomanwithherfeetinmylap.Psychebringssomebeautyandpositivitytothespacesheoccupies.Allherphotocaptionsareuplifting,eventheoneswhereshe’sadmittingstruggle.IthoughtitwasacrockofshitwhenshefirststartedmakingwavesinOlympus,butthelongerI’mwithher,themoreIrealizehowfuckinggenuinesheis.Oh,shehashermaskandsheliesaswellasIdo,butthatthreadofkindness,thatdesiretobringlightintotheworldinsteadofdarkness?That’sreal.
“Eros.”Shesaysmynamewarmly,almostindulgently.
“Sorry,whatwereyousaying?”
Psycheshakesherhead.“Pleasefocus.Thisisimportant.”
She’sright.Ican’taffordtogetdistracted,evenbyher.Really,focusingonanythingbutthisconversationisanavoidancetactic.NowthatmyplantokeepPsychesafe—tokeepherwithme—hasbeenprovenafailure,there’sreallyonlyoneanswer.“IcangetyououtofOlympus.”
Shegoesstill.“That’snearlyimpossible.”
“Itdependsonwhoyouknow.Poseidonisasticklerfortherules,butnotallhispeopleare.Withaheftyenoughbribe,Tritonwillsmugglepeopleout.IfyouleaveOlympus,you’llbesafefrommymother.”
Psychestaresatmeforalongmoment.“Butyouwon’tbe.IfyouthinkIshouldleaveOlympus,thenyoushould,too.”
“Mymotherdoesn’twanttokillme.”Ishouldleaveitatthat,butI’vetrustedthiswomanwithlittlebitsandpiecesofmealready.What’sonemore?“ExilehasbeenAphrodite’spunishmentofchoicemorethanonceinthepast,andI’vebeenthepersonwhoenactedit.Thosepeoplewouldloveachancetogetrevenge.IfIleavethecitywithyou,itwilljustpaintadifferentkindoftargetonyourback,andIwon’thavetheresourcestoevenattempttoprotectyoulikeIcanhere.”Notenough.NomatterhowhardItry,I’mneverfuckingenough.Ican’tkeepPsychesafewithoutsendingheraway.I’mthereasonshe’sinthismessed-upsituationtobeginwith.
“No.”
Iblink.“What?”
ShelooksasresoluteasI’veeverseenher.“No,IamnotfleeingOlympus.Mylifeishere.Myfamilyishere.I’mnotlettingthatbitch—evenifsheisyourmother—runmeoutoftown.I’mnotgoinganywhere.”
“Damnit.”Idraginabreath.“Iwilldoeverythinginmypowertoprotectyou,butImightfail.I’mfarbetteratkillingthanIamatplayingbodyguard.”I’veneverhadtodothelatterbefore,andneverwhenthestakesweresohigh.“Moneyisn’tanissue.Wecouldgetyousetup.Youwouldn’tbeabletoseeyourfamily,butatleastyou’dbealive.”
“Eros.”Shesaysmynamesogently.“Thatmightallbetrue,butifIrunandleaveAphroditeinpower,thenextpersonshetargetslikelywon’tbeasluckytohavetheresourcesatmydisposal.She’llcontinuetovictimizepeoplelesspowerfulthanherjustbecauseshecan.She’llcontinuetouseyoutodoit.”Herhazeleyesgohard.“Iwon’tallowthattohappen.Youdeservebetterthantobeherweapon,andthepeopleinthiscitydeservebetterthantowalkoneggshellstoavoidpissingAphroditeoff.We’llfindawaytostopher.Together.”
I’mashamedofthesheerreliefherwordsbringme.She’snotleavingme.Notyet.Fuck,I’msuchanasshole.“Wehavetoadjusttheplan.”
“Yes.StartingwiththisFriday,whenweattendHelen’sparty.”
Thatgivesmealittlepause.“Ithoughtyou’dwanttoskipitconsideringwhathappenedtonight.”
“Idowanttoskipit,butit’snotaboutwhatIwant.”Sheshiftsonthecouch.Itstrikesmethatthiscouldbeourlivesifweweredifferentpeople,inadifferentsituation.Relaxinginmylivingroom,hertakingcandidphotos,talkingaboutourdays…
Longinghitsmesohard,itstealsmybreath.Iclosemyeyesandtrytofocus.“Ifyou’restayinginOlympus,it’stheheightoffoolishnesstoleavethepenthousemorethanstrictlynecessary.Mymotherwantsyoudead;noreasontomakeiteasieronher.”
“WouldyouhavegoneifIweren’there?”
Ifrown.AstemptingasitistokeepremindingPsychehowdangerousthiscourseofactionis,Ianswerhonestly.“Yeah.IlikeHelen.SheandErisplaythegamedifferentlythanIdo,butthatgoeswiththeterritoryofbeingbornintotheKasiosfamily.Theeventstheyputtogetherareneverboring,especiallywhenoneofthemistryingtoproveapointtoPerseusorZeus.”ExceptPerseusisZeusnow.Damnit,oneofthesedaysthatwillclickinmythoughtsproperlyandIwon’thavetokeepremindingmyself.
“Exactlymypoint.We’refightingontwofrontsnow.”ShewigglesherfootuntilIpickitupandresumemassaging.“Weneedtimetofigureoutawaytodealwiththisrenewedthreatfromyourmother,andtheonlywaytocreatethattimeistohaveOlympusonourside.Theoriginalplanstillhastostayinmotion.”
“That’sreckless.”
“Wedon’thaveachoice.”
Iconcentrateonrunningmythumbupthesoleofherfootuntilsheletsloosethatsexylittlemoanagain.Astemptingasitistoholeupinthispenthousefortheforeseeablefuture,itwilldemolishourchancesofplayingouttheepiclovestorywe’resupposedtobeselling.Morethanthat,IsawwhathappenedlasttimeoneofDemeter’sdaughterswaskeptfromher.Shecan’tstarveoutthewholeoftheuppercityinresponsetothis,butshe’sgotplentyofweaponsinherarsenal.
Andthat’sthebest-casescenario.
Worstcase,DemeterrealizeswhyweenteredintothismarriageinthefirstplaceandgoesafterAphroditedirectly.Therehasn’tbeenatruewarbetweenmembersoftheThirteeningenerations.NoteventhelastZeusandlastHades,forallthattheirconflictendedwithHades’sdeath.ItwasAresandHephaestuswhowarredallthosedecadesago,andtheydemolishedseveralblocksoftheuppercityintheprocess.ItwasoneofthefewtimesinourhistorywhenZeus,Poseidon,andHadescametogethertoquelltheconflict.Zeus,ofcourse,executedbothAresandHephaestusinaparticularlygruesomeandpublicmanner.
ThatZeushadheldhistitleformostofhislife.
ThisonehasbeenZeusforafewmonths
Nomatterwhatkindofheftthetitlecarries,Idon’tknowifPerseuscanholdhisownifaconflictspiralsoutofcontrolbetweenDemeterandAphrodite.
No,Psycheisright.Wedon’thaveachoice.“Okay,we’llattendtheparty.”
“Idohaveonequestion.”
“Sure.”
Shetwistsherhairaroundherfinger.“You’refriendswiththeKasiossiblings,right?WhynotjustgotoZeusnowandaskhimtointervene?NomatterhowpowerfulAphroditeis,she’snotZeuspowerful.”
IconcentrateonrubbingherfootinawaythatmakeshermoanalittlewhileIformulateananswer.“Perseus—Zeus—andIaren’tascloseaswewereaskids,butevenifwewere,Idon’tthinkhecouldoverlookthefactthattheevidenceagainstmymotheralsoimplicatesme.Hecan’tpunishoneandsparetheother,becausehe’llhavetojustifyanyactionhetakesagainstanotheroftheThirteen.”
“Isupposethatmakessense.”Shetiltsherheadtotheside.“We’llsavegoingtoZeusasalastresort.”
Ihopeitdoesn’tcometothat.Nomatterhowdistantwe’vegrownovertheyears,Perseusisdealingwithenoughwithoutmedumpingmyproblemsintohislapandexpectinghimtofixthemforme.We’llfindanotherway,though.
Inthemeantime…“Ihaveaquestion,too.”
“Yes?”
“Whyhaveyouandyoursistersputsomuchtimeandeffortintoholdingyourselvesapartfromtherestofus?Iunderstandavoidingmeorsomeoftheothers,butHelenwouldhavetakenyouunderherwinginaninstant.”
“Youthinkso?”Psychemakesafacebutfinallyexhales.“IwilladmitthatIhavesomethingofachiponmyshoulderwhenitcomestodealingwiththechildrenoftheThirteen.Myexperienceshaven’tbeengreat.”
We’reaclosedgroup.BythenatureoftheThirteen,ournumberchangesfromtimetotimewhenthepersonholdingthetitleschangesandbringstheirfamilywiththem,butthere’sacoregroupofuswhohavegrownuptogether.Still…“HasHelenbeencrueltoyou?”IcanbelieveitofEris,butHelenisahardersell.She’snotexactlywarm,butshe’sbetterthanmost.
“No.”PsychesaysitsobegrudginglythatIlaugh.Thesoundisonlypartiallyinrelief.I’dhatetohavetoripmyfriendanewonebecauseshewasmeantomywife.
“Ithinkyou’dlikeHelenifyougiveherhalfachance.”Isetherfootdownandpickuptheother.
Shecloseshereyesandseemstogiveherselfovertothefootmassage.“I’dlikeHelen,orthepublicversionofPsychewouldlikeHelen?”
“Both.”
Sheexhalesandopenshereyes.“Thismatterstoyou.”
I’msurprisedtofinditdoes.Iwanttosaythatit’sasimplegameofnumbers,andthemorepeopleonourside,thebetteroffourposition,butthat’snotstrictlythetruth.Nothingaboutthissituationissimple,andthelongerwe’retogether,themorecomplicateditbecomes.IexpectedtodesirePsyche—Ihavefromthestart—butIdidn’texpecttolikeherortofeelsopossessivethatpartofmewantstowrapherupandkeepherawayfromtheworldwhiletheotherpartwantstoshowheroffateveryopportunity.It’smorethanthefactthatshe’sbeautifulandhasasweetcenterthatnotevenOlympuscouldmar.Iadmireher.
WhichiswhyItellherthetruth.“HelenisasclosetoasisterasIhave.MoresothananyoneelseinOlympus,Itrusther,andshetrustsme.I…”Ihesitate.“Iwouldlikeitifyou’dgiveherachance.”
“Notjustbecauseofthepoliticalgain?”
Ofcoursesheseesrightthroughme.Igivearuefulsmile.“No,notjustbecauseofthepoliticalgain,thoughitneverhurtstohaveamemberoftheKasiosfamilyonyourside.”
She’ssilentforseveralminutes.“Okay.I’llgiveherachance.”
Thisfeelsmoremomentousthanitlikelyshould,butIcan’thelpthefactthatitfeelsrighttohaveourlivesstartedgingintoeachother.Ormaybethat’sjusttheselfishpartofmethatwantstotetherthiswomantomeinasmanywaysaspossible.
Psycheclearsherthroat.“We’llstartwithatwo-prongeddefense.Thefirstthingweneedismorealliances.IrealizeZeusisoutforthetimebeing,butthereareplentyofotherpowerfulpeopleinOlympus.Themorewehaveonourside,themoreriskyitisforAphroditetostrike.”
“IcanprettymuchguaranteeHelen’spartywillhavealotofpowerfulpeople,evenifthey’remostlythechildrenoftheThirteen.”
“That’sastart.”Psychenods.“ThesecondprongisgettingtherestofOlympusonoursideandcheeringforus.Thelittlesocial-mediateasershavegottenthatballrolling,butdoinganofficialinterviewwillhelpspeedthingsalong.”
Ifocusonherfootforalongmoment.“Thatworksforashort-termplan.”
“Long-termwillhavetobeadaptable.”Shecloseshereyes,herexpressionbecomingmoreandmorerelaxed.“Idon’tsupposeyourmotherwasbluffingaboutstillwantingmedead?”
IwishIcouldletherbelievethatwillhappen,butIcan’t.“No.Aphroditedoesn’tbluff.”
“Thenwe’lljusthavetofindawaytoforcehertocalloffthisattack.Easy,right?”Shelaughs,thesoundbitter.“Atleastmymotherisn’trampagingthistime.”
“Thereisthat.HaveImentionedlatelythatshe’sterrifying?”
“Pot,meetkettle.”
Igrin,buttheexpressionfadesquickly.“We’llfindaway.Mymotherishardlyarationalindividual,butshe’sonlyadangerbecauseofhowpowerfulsheis.Ifwecanfindmorealliesandusethepublic’sgoodwillinourfavor,itmightbeenough.”It’sstillalongshot,butthere’sthetiniestchancethatoncesherealizesshe’soutmatched,she’llceaseanyfurtherattacks.Oratleastkeepitintheareaofreputation,ratherthanliterallifeanddeath.
“Thenwestickwiththisplanandadaptasnecessary,dependingonwhatshedoes.”Psychegivesmeatiredsmile.“We’llfigureitout,Eros.We’rewonderfullymatchedwhenitcomestothis.Betweenthetwoofus,we’llfindasolution.”
Thecasualfaithsheputsinmeisstaggering.Mychestgoestight.“Yes.Wewill.Ipromise.”
“Mmm.”
IttakesmeseveralminutestorealizethatPsychehasfallenasleep.SeveralmoreminutespassbeforeIforcemyselftosetherfootdownandrise.Shelooksdifferentinsleep,somethinginherrelaxingthatIhadn’trealizedwastense.It’snotthatsheseemsyounger,exactly,butthatshe’sputdownaburdenshecarrieswithheralways.
Ihavethestrangesturgetooffertocarryitforher.
It’snotlateenoughformetosleepyet,whichisjustaswell.Ihaveacalltomake.IleavePsycheonthecouchfornowandheadtothesaferoom.Tomorrow,I’lldrillheronthecodeagainafewtimestoensureit’sproperlymemorized.Idon’tplanonleavingherunattendedmoreoftenthanstrictlynecessary,butIalreadyknowshe’sgoingtocravesomeindependencebeforetoolong.I’mnotsurehowI’llhandlesecurityoutsidethepenthouse;aproblemforanotherday.IsoftlyshutthedooranddothelastthingIwanttorightnow.
Idialmymother.
Ihalfexpecthertoignoremycall.Herfavoritepunishmentisicingmeout,deprivingmeofanycontactorattention.WhenIwasyoungandshe’ddoit,italwaysfeltlikeshe’dslicedmerightdowntothebone.Aphroditeissomuchlargerthanlife,andtoachild—toherchild—it’seventruer.Havingherturnawayfromme…
Igivemyselfashake.Hertacticsdon’tworkaswellastheyusedto.NotsinceIgrewupenoughtorealizesheusesherloveandherattentionasbothlureandpunishment.Butsomethingsareimpossibletoshuckoff,andIcan’tquitepullinafullbreathuntilsheanswers.
Shedoesn’tmakemewaitlong.“Sonowyoudecideyou’reavailableforaconversation?Ishouldblockyournumber.”
“Youwon’t.”It’sanefforttokeepmyvoiceeven.“Howwillyouconveyyourdisappointmentinmethen?”
Shemakesasoundsuspiciouslylikeahiss.“Insolentchild.”
“I’mtwenty-eight,Mother.”Ihurlthetermlikeaweapon.“I’mmorethancapableofmakingmyownchoices,includingwhowillbemybride.”
“Shewouldn’tbeyourbrideifyou’dcarvedherheartoutofherchestlikeIasked.Idon’tknowwhyyou’rebalking,Eros.It’snotasifyoudidn’tdothatandworsetoPolyphonte.Killedherrightinfrontofherparents.Didyouknowhermothercommittedsuicidethisweek?Tragic,that.”
I’mnotpreparedfortheguiltthatswarmsme.“That’sdifferent.”Thewordsfeellikealieonmytongue.
“It’sreallynot.Didyouconvinceyourselfyou’relikethatpreciouswifeofyours?”Shelaughs.“Sillyboy.You’renothinglikeher.You’relikeme.Wearetheonlytwopeopleinthisworldwhocanunderstandeachother,andyou’reputtingthatatriskforalittlebitchwithgoodhair.Themomentthatwomanrealizeswhatyou’retrulycapableof,she’llturnfromyou.Don’tyouunderstandthatI’mtryingtohelpyou?”
ThereareveryfewthingsIcareaboutinthisworld.Mostofthetime,IhatethatAphroditenumbersamongthem.I’moldenoughnow,independentenough,tounderstandthatshe’sconstantlyattemptingtoemotionallymanipulateme.It’sagoodportionofthereasonwhyIhavesystematicallycarvedoutthesofterfeelingsfrommypersonality,removingallpossibilityoftraction.Ithoughtthosepartsofmeweregoneforever,butPsyche’spresencehasthemwakingasiffromalongslumber.
Theywon’tservemenow.Allthey’llaccomplishisgivingmymotherafootholdthatI’veworkedtoodamnhardtoeradicate.
“Mother,”Isayslowly.“Ifyoucauseanyharmtocometomywife,youwillregretit.”
“Notasmuchasyou’regoingtoregretthismarriage.”Hertonegoesjustascoldasmine.“Whatwereyouthinking,Eros?Isendyoutoremovethegirlandyoumarryher?Haveyoulostyourmind?”
“Planschanged.”
“Notmine.”
Iknowthat.Idon’tknowwhyI’mreachingoutnow,hopingthatIcanworkamiracleandchangeAphrodite’smind.Still…Ihavetotry.Reactinginfearwilljustgiveheralargertargettoaimat.Ihavetobecold,colderthanIeverhavebefore.“Ineveraskyouforanything.I’maskingyouforthis.LeavePsychealone.”
She’ssilentforsolong,afoolishpartofmestartstodaretohopethatthisisthemomentthingschange.That,foronce,mymotherwillputmyneedsaboveherselfishdesires.
Ireallyshouldknowbetterafteralifetimeofbeingherson.Finally,Aphroditesays,“Iseethatshe’sgottentoyou.Pity.”
“Mother.”
“Donotsay‘Mother’inthattoneofvoice.Nottome.”
Somethingakintopanictightensmychest.“Letmehaveher,andputthisbehindusandI’llneverquestionyouagain.That’swhatyouwant,isn’tit?Agoodlittlefixerwhostopsgivingyouattitude.”
Shetakesaslowbreath,andwhenshespeaksagain,shesoundsalmostcalm.“EverythingIdo,Eros,Idoforlove.”ShehangsupbeforeIcanformulatearesponse.
Istareatmyphone.“Fuck.Fuck.”Iknewitwouldn’tmakeadifference.Iknewit,butIstilltried.Iclosemyeyes,butanimageimprintsitselfonthebackofmyeyelids,ofPsyche’sbodybentandbroken,herhazeleyesgoneblankwithdeath,thethingthatmakesherhergoneforever.Ipressmyhandtomychest,hard,tryingtobreathepastthepaintheimagebrings.Iwon’tletithappen.Iknowallmymother’stricks.Ijustneedtoholdheroffuntilwecancomeupwithaplantoneutralizeherforgood.
Iknowhowtoneutralizeher.She’stheonewhotaughtme.
Ican’tdoit.IthoughtIhadnolineslefttocross,butnotevenIcankillmyownmother.Nomatterhowevilsheis.NoteventokeepPsychesafe.
IleavethesaferoomwithslowstepsthatincreaseinpacethecloserIgettothelivingroom.Psyche’sonlybeenoutofmysightfortenminutes.She’sfine.Iknowshe’sfine.ButIdon’tbreatheeasyagainuntilIwalkintotheroomandfindherexactlywhereIlefther.
Whatthefuckishappeningtome?
Igatherherupintomyarms,ignoringhersleepyprotestthatshe’stooheavy,andcarryherintoourbedroom.Weendupinbed,mespooningherasshesinksbackintosleep.Ipressmyhandtoherupperchest,countingherslowinhalesandexhalesuntilmynervesfinallysettleenoughforsleeptotakeme.24
Psyche
HelenKasioslivesinthesamebuildingastherestofZeus’sfamily.I’veneverbeentherebefore.UsuallywhenthepastZeusentertained,hediditinDodonaTower.ThenewZeushasentertainedplentysincehetookover,butitcouldn’tbeclearerthathe’sjustgoingthroughthemotions.Hedoesn’tcravethespotlightthewayhislatefatherdid.EvenwhenhewasstillcalledPerseus,heseemedmorefocusedonthebusinessaspectofthingsthanhisfathereverwas.Theforty-daymourningperiodhascomeandgone,andpeoplearealreadywhisperingabouthowresistantheseemstomarryingsomeoneandfinallyfillingtheHeratitle.ThelastZeusmighthavebeenmonsterincarnate,buthewascharmingandcharismatic.Heleftlargeshoestofill.
Ofhisfourchildren,hisyoungestson,Hercules,managedtoescapeOlympusentirely.PerseusisnowthenewZeus.AndHelenandErisare,asErossaid,insular.They’venevercrossedmethatI’mawareof,butwehaven’tgottencloseenoughtoeachothertocreatefriction.
Thatchangestonight.
Tonight,whenEroswantsmetotry.
Doesherealizewhathe’saskingofme?Iglanceathimintheelevatornexttome,perfectlyputtogetherinadove-graysuitandcreambutton-downshirtthatoffsetshisgoldenskin.Hecatchesmyeyeandgivesourlinkedhandsasqueeze.Yes,Isuspectheknowsexactlywhathe’saskingofme.
I’vesurvived—thrived,even—inOlympusbecauseIkeptmydistanceandtrustednooneoutsidemyfamily.ItookthelessonsIlearnedinthefirstyearhereandneverlookedback.
NowI’mswimmingindeeperwatersthanI’mcomfortablewith.Astheelevatordoorsslideopen,revealingaclassyhallwaywithlushgraycarpetandsoothingbluewalls,IhavetoacknowledgethatI’mnotasharkatall.I’maminnowplayingdress-up.
IhopeIcansurvivethenightwithoutgettingeaten.
“Breathe,”Erosmurmurs.
Right.Breathe.Relax.Smilesweetly.Don’tletthemscentweakness.
I’msurethat’snotwhatheintendstosay,butItakeittoheartallthesame.Betweenonestepandthenext,Iboxupallmyfearsandinsecuritiesandtuckthemaway.They’llstillbewaitingformeattheendofthenight.IcanignorethemuntilI’mbackinthepenthouse,thosestrongwallsbetweenmeandtherestofthecity.
Thehallwaycontainsfourdoors,andErosleadsmetotheoneattheend.Hebarelyknocksbeforeit’sflungopenbyaglitteringHelen.Literallyglittering.Thegoldenstuffcoatsherexposedskin—andthere’salotofexposedskinaroundhertinydressofthesamegoldencolor—andevenherlonglight-brownhair.Itturnsherbeautyotherworldly,asifaliteralgoddesshaswanderedintoourpresence,butthesquealshegiveswhensheseesusshatterstheillusion.“You’rehere!”
ShebouncesupontohertoestogiveErosakissonthecheek,andIbarelyhavetimetoprocessthehotflashofjealousybeforeshegrabsmyhandandpullsmeforwardtogivemethesametreatment.“I’msohappytoseeyou.”Sheallbutdragsmeintotheapartment,leavingErostotrailbehindus.
Igetflashesoftheplace.Elegantpeopleineveningweardrapedoverequallyelegantcouchesinthelivingroom.Acolorschemethatmakesmethinkofthestormyocean—graywoodenfloors,moodybluewalls,lotsofwhiteandsandy-coloredfurniture.It’scompletelyatoddswiththeshiningwomanattachedtomyhand.
Shehaulsmeintoaspotlesskitchenwithafullbarsetuponthecounter.“Pickyourpoison.”
Ialmostsayredwine,almostfallbacktosomesweetdrinkthatwillmakemyteethache.ButIpromisedErosI’dtry,andsoItakeatinyleapoffaith.“Bourbon.”
ThesmileHelengivesmeisjustasdazzlingasherglitter-adornedbody.“That’smygirl.IknewIlikedyou.”
“Correction,Helen;that’smygirl.”
InearlybreatheasighofreliefwhenIrealizeEroshasjoinedus.He’sgotastrangelyindulgentsmileonhisface,andIcan’ttellifhe’sfakingitornot.JustlikeIcan’ttellhowmuchofHelen’senthusiasmisreallyher.Persephonedoesabeamingsunshinethingwhenshe’sinpublic,andthiskindofremindsmeofthat.Butit’slesssoftwarmthandmorelightninginabottle.Igetthefeelingshemightexplodeatanymomentinfreneticenergythatisaslikelytoharmasitistoentertain.
HelenwavesEros’scommentawayasshepullsoutabottleofbourbonthat’soutstandinglyexpensive.“Shemightbewearingyourring—it’sgorgeous,bytheway—butyou’repracticallyabrothertome,sothatmakesherfamily.”Shebeamsatme.“I’vealwayswantedasister.”
Iblink.“Youhaveasister.She’sstandingrightthere.”IpointatEris,who’swearinganinkspillofadressandhasherheadclosetoaBlackwomaninagorgeous—andtiny—reddress.IbelatedlyrealizeIrecognizeheraswell.Hermescatchesmelookingandgivesacheerywave.
Helensnorts.“Erisisn’tasister.She’schaospersonified.”
Thatsurprisesalaughoutofme.“Ihaveoneofthose,too.”
“Callisto.”Shesaysthenamelikeshe’ssavoringit.“Iwishshe’dcomearoundmore.Sheseemsinteresting.Youalldo.”ShepassesmethebourbonandpoursaglassofredwinewithoutaskingEroswhathewants.Helenpressesitintohishandandroundsthecountertostandalittletooclose.I’dtakeitpersonally,butIgetthefeelingthatit’sjusthowsheiswitheveryone.Sherakeshergazeoverme.“Youlookoutstanding.Youalwayslookoutstanding.”
Iglancedownatmyself.Ichosemydresscarefullytonight.It’sadeep-greenwrapdressthatmakesmybreastslookgreatandmaximizesmycurves.“Um,thanks.”
“Oh,I’mobviouslynottellingyouanythingyoudon’talreadyknow,butit’sstillnicetohear,right?”Shewavesitaway.Someoneknocksonthedoorbeforeshecancontinue.“I’llbeback.Enjoytheparty!”Andthenshe’sgone,trailingglitterbehindher.
IfeellikeI’vejustbeentossedaroundbyatornadoanddepositedsomewherecompletelydifferentthanwhereIstarted.Itwasn’tanentirelyunpleasantexperience,butitwasdisorientingintheextreme.Itaketoolargeadrinkofmybourbon,butmynervesareindangerofgettingthebestofme.“Isshealwayslikethis?”
“No.”Erosshrugs.“Whensheentertains,sherampsup.”
Easyenoughtoreadbetweenthoselines.She’sgotapublicpersonathesamewaywedo.FromwhatI’veobserved,shelikespeopletounderestimateher,andtheyseeahappy,prettyfoolanddon’tlookbeneaththesurface.Ijusthadn’trealizedherenergylevelwasso…high.“Isee.”
Erosshiftscloseandpullsmeintohisarms.Itfeelshorriblynatural,asifwe’vebeenembracingmuchlongerthanafewdays.Idon’ttenseandImanagetosmileupathimasifdeeplyinlove.Thewarmthonhisfaceneverceasestosetmebackonmyheels,butImanagetomaskmyresponse.Heleansdowntospeakinmyear.“Anhourortwoandthenpeoplewilldriftofftootherpartiesorclubs.”
Honestly,it’snotabigasktoplaythisrolewithhimforafewhours.ThispartymightbefilledwithpeopleI’vespentyearsavoiding,butHermesistheonlymemberoftheThirteeninsight,andsoit’sstillbetterthantheeventsatDodonaTowermymotherinsistsondraggingmeto.
IturninEros’sarms.Hedoesn’tletmego;hesimplytucksmebackagainsthischestandrestshischinonthetopofmyhead.Idon’tunderstandwhythisfeelsasintimateastheembrace,butI’mnotgoingtobreakhisholdjustbecausemyheartisracingasifIjustranupaflightofstairs.
Andthenmyattentionlandsonthemanacrossthelivingroom,andIforgetallaboutEros.“Thatmotherfucker.”
Hisarmstensearoundme,tuggingmebackastepwhenIwouldbreakfree.“Ididn’tknowhe’dbehere.”
Orpheus.
TheassholewhoseselfishnessnotonlybrokeEurydice’sheartbutputherliterallifeindanger.Theyweredatingseriouslybeforethatnight,andshelovedhimwitheverythingshehad.Thebreakuphashitherhard,butOrpheushasn’tmissedabeatintheinterveningmonths.EverytimeIturnaround,he’smakingheadlinesinMuseWatchwithhispartyingandhookingupwithonegorgeouspersonafteranother.Currentspeculationisthathe’sonthereboundandsoothingthepainofabrokenheart,butit’sbullshit.
IfhereallylovedEurydiceasmuchasheacted,hewouldn’thavesetherup.Attheveryleast,hewouldhaveapologizedfortheharmhe’scaused.
Instead,he’shere,wearingadesignersuitandleaningagainstthewallnexttoawomanIrecognize.Cassandra.Fromthesmileonhishandsomeface,he’sgothischarmcrankeduptoathousand.Imighthatehim,butevenIhavetoadmitit’salotofcharm.HismotherisaKoreanmodelwhoputsevenAphroditetoshameandhisfatherisaSwedishbusinessmanofsomesort.
Forherpart,Cassandraseemsboredbythewholeexperience.She’saboutmysize,withafallofbrilliantredhairandagenerousmouththatnaturallyturnsdownalittleattheedges.Shealsohasareputationfortakingnoshit.
“Letmego,”Isayquietly.
“Psyche—”
IdowntherestofmydrinkandturntofaceEros.Iknowthisisamistake,butIdon’tcare—whichseemstobearunningtrendwithmethesedays.Thealcoholisalreadybuzzingmythoughts,feedingtheangerI’vebeennursingforfartoolong.“Eurydicealmostdied.Youweren’ttherethatnight.Persephonewas.Themanchasingherhadaknife.TheonlyreasonshewasinthatpositionatallwasbecauseOrpheussoldherouttoZeus.”Eroshashiscarefullyblankexpressioninplace.Ihateit.IhatethathecankeephiseyesontheendgamewhileI’mreadytopullaCallistoandfindaknifetostabOrpheuswith.“Letmego,”Irepeat.
Forasecond,Ithinkhewon’tdoit,buthefinallyreleasesmelongenoughtodrapeanarmovermyshoulder.Betweenoneblinkandthenext,hisplayboysmileisbackinplace.“Let’sgohaveachat.”
Ihesitate.“YouknowOrpheus?”EvenasIvoicethequestion,Irealizehowridiculousitis.Theydon’texactlymoveinthesamecircles,butthere’snowaytheyhaven’tinteractedbeforenow.Apollohasbeeninhispositionforyearsnow,sohisyoungerbrotherOrpheushasbeenattendingthesamepartiesErosandIhave.It’showheandEurydicemet.
“Wellenough.”
Idon’tknowwhatgamehe’splayingat,andit’salmostenoughtodistractmefrommyrage.Almost.IletErosguideustowardOrpheus.He’ssofocusedonCassandra,hedoesn’tevenlookupuntilwe’rerightnexttohim.
Thewayheblancheswhenheseesmealmostmakesmelaugh.OritwouldifIwasn’tsobusytryingnottoscream.Erosgivesmyshoulderalittlesqueeze,hisexpressionstillperfectlyrelaxed.“Orpheus,youknowmywife,right?”Heglancesatme,allcharmingplayboy.“Wasn’thedatingyourlittlesister?”
“Wife?”Themanlookslikehemightbesick.“Ididn’tknowyouweredating.”
“Notdating.Married.”Eros’stoneshifts,andthesmallhairsriseonthebackofmyneck.“IsupposethatmakesEurydicemysisternow,doesn’tit?”
Orpheusswaysalittle.Ican’ttellifhe’sdrunkorjustthatafraidofEros.MaybeifIwasabetterperson,Iwouldn’tgetapettythrillfromthefactthathe’snearlypeeinghispants,butIwanthimtosuffer.IturntoErosandpressmyhandtohischest.“That’sdefinitelywhatitmeans.”Ismile,lettinganedgeworkitswayintomyexpression.“Iknowhowprotectiveyouareofyourfamily,darling.”
“Iam.Ireally,trulyam.”Heleansdownalittle,notquitegettinginOrpheus’sfacebutthethreatisthereallthesame.“I’dbeexceedinglyputoutifsomeoneweretoharmsweetlittleEurydice.Youunderstand,don’tyou?”
Cassandrastirstolife.Herdarkeyes,enhancedwithblackeyelinersharpenoughtocut,narrow.“AreyouthreateningApollo’slittlebrother?”
“IfIam?”
Herlipscurve.“Don’tletmestopyou.”ShepushesoffthewallandwavesanidlehandinOrpheus’sdirection.“Goodluckwiththat.”
“Wait—”
Ishakemyhead,angerstilloverridingmycontrol.“Learntoreadtheroom.You’renotwantedhere.Getout.”
“Heleninvitedme.”Evenhissneerisattractive.Ifanything,theknowledgemakesmeangrier.
Eroslooksoverhisshoulder.“Helen.”
Sheappearsatoursideasifbymagic.Ihalfexpectacloudofglittertocascadefromherbodyanddress,butitallstaysinplace.Shehasacarefullyneutrallookonherface.“Isthereaproblem?”
“Orpheushasoverstayedhiswelcome.”
“Oh,that.”Shelaughs,amerrytinklingsound.“Leavenow,Orpheus.”
Hedrawshimselfup,butifhethinkshecanintimidatethesetwo,he’smoreofafoolthanIthoughtpossible.“Mybrotherwillhearaboutthis.”
“Willhe?”Helencocksherhead.“IshealsogoingtohearaboutthefactthatyouwerechasingCassandraaroundlikeacreepwhodoesn’tunderstandtheword‘no’?Becausepersonally,IthinkApollowouldbeveryinterestedtohearaboutthat.”
Ah.SotherumorsaboutApolloandCassandraaretrue,atleastwhenitcomestohisinterestinher.FromwhatI’veseen,she’sgivenhimaboutasmuchattentionasshegaveOrpheus—asinonlyenoughtoescapehispresencewheneverheshowsup.Thefactthattheyworktogetheronlyseemstocomplicatetheissue.
Orpheusseemstorealizehe’soutmatchedandglares.“Youcan’ttreatmelikethis.”
“Sweetheart.”ThesoftnessinHelen’stonehidesaviciousdagger.“Lookaroundthisroom.EveryoneofusisrelatedtotheThirteeninsomeway.You’renotspecialhere.Goplaywithyourgroupiesanddon’tbothershowingupforoneofmypartiesagain.Itwillbehorriblyembarrassingtorequiresecuritytoshowyouout.”
Hecursesbutturnsandleaves,theeyesofeverypersonintheroomonhim.It’sonlywhenthedoorshutsbehindhimthatHelenflipsherhairoffhershoulder.“Gods,he’ssuchanasshole.WhydidIeveninvitehimagain?”
“Becauseyousaidhe’sanassholewhosefaceyou’dliketoride,”Erossaysmildly.
“Ah.That.”Helensnapsherfingers.“Right.Iforgot.”Shegivesmeanapologeticlookthatseemsgenuine.“ObviouslyIwouldn’thavetouchedhimwhilehewaswithyoursister,butIhavehorribletasteinmenandbetterthanquestionabletasteinwomen.Itcan’tbehelped.”
“I…see.”Idon’tholditagainsther.WhywouldshecareaboutEurydice’semotionalhealth?Theydon’tknoweachother,andit’severypersonforthemselvesinthiscity—especiallyinthiscrowd.Ipasteasmileonmyface.“Nohardfeelings.”
“It’scutewhenyoulie.”Hersmilegoessharp.“ImeantwhatIsaidjustnow.He’sdeadtome.Nomoreparties,noface-sitting.You’repracticallyfamilyatthispoint,andfamilystickstogether,forbetterorworse.”
Ican’ttrusther.Ican’ttrustanyoneinthisroom,includingEros.ButasIletHelentowmetothediningroomtabletostartadrinkinggame,IfindmyselfwishingthatIcould.25
Eros
Mywifeisdrunk.Exceedinglydrunk.SheleansagainstmeasItrytowrestlehercoaton.Psycheiscuteevenwhilesloshed,andtheirritationImighthavefeltifshewereanyotherpersonisnowhereinevidence.
“Ilikeher.”
PsycherestsherfaceagainstmychestandsmilesatHelen.“Ilikeyou,too.”
Helen’srelaxedforthefirsttimesincewearrived.Everyoneisgone,evenEris,andshe’sletherfreneticalteregodissipate.“Youtwocancrashhereifyouwantto.”
Itwouldbesafer,butunfortunately,Ihavetoweighthesmalldangeroftravelingbacktomypenthouseagainstthesheeramountofdamagestayingcouldcause.Igiveheralook.“Andwhenwe’rephotographedleavinginthemorning,they’llrunastoryabouthowwewereengagedinsomesordidthreesomebecausethesparkhasalreadygoneoutofourmarriageafteronlyaweek.”
Sheshrugs.“Ifyouwereanyoneelseandshewasn’tshit-housed,I’dconsiderit.”
“Yourcomplimentsleavesomethingtobedesired.”IchucklealittleasPsycheweavesawayfromme,andIhavetoloopanarmaroundherwaisttokeepherupright.“Youshouldn’thaveplayeddrinkinggameswithmywife,though.”
“Sheseemedlikeshewashavingfun.”
“Iwas!”Psychelurches,andIhavetotaketwostepstocounterbalanceher.
HelenleansforwardandgrabsPsyche’shand.“Justsoyouknow,we’resistersnow.Notakebacks.”
WhichisrightaroundthetimeIrealizethatHelenisn’texactlysober,either.Damnit.“Lockthedoorbehindme.”
“Yes,Eros.”Shegrins.“Marriagelooksgoodonyou.Youseemhappy.Youshouldkeepher.”
Iplanonit.
Ican’tsaythataloud.Nothere.Notnow.Certainlynotlikethis.“Seeyoulater.”IshufflePsycheoutthedoor,pauselongenoughtolistentoHelenthrowthedeadbolt,andthenheadfortheelevator.Oncewe’reclosedinsideit,IglanceatPsyche.“Areyoufeelingsick?”
“No.”Shedoesn’tquitemanagetoopenhereyesalltheway.“Justgoofy.”
We’llseeifthatholdsoncewegetintomycar,butIcanalwayscrackawindowandhopefullythecoldnightairwillcombatanymotionsickness.Icarefullyadjustmygriponherasshesways.“Didyouhavefun?”
“Yes?”Sheshakesherhead.“Gods,I’mdrunk.Ihaven’tbeenthisdrunksincemytwenty-firstbirthday.AndthatwasonlybecausePersephoneandCallistotrickedme.”Shefrowns.“I’msorry.IwassonervousandthenHelenwassobubbly,mydrinksgotawayfromme.”
“TheytendtodothatatHelen’sparties.”
Psyche’sspillingtruthmessilyaround,andthere’sapartofmethatwantstopressherforinformation.No,notinformation.Ican’tpretendit’sanythingbutwantingtoknowwhatshereallythinksofme.Tofindoutifshe’sslippingcloserandclosertofallingformethesamewayI’vetossedmyselfpastthepointofnoreturnwhileIwasn’tpayingattention.Imanagetoresistgrillingher,butonlybarely.
Shefeelsgoodinmyarms,softandsweet.Shelooksevenbetter.Istudyourreflectionsinthemirroredelevatordoors.Welook…goodtogether.Notjustinthewaythattwoattractivepeopledowhentheystandsidebyside.Psychelaysherheadagainstmyshoulderandcloseshereyes.Asifwe’rearealcouple.Thecasualintimacymakesmychestachewithalongingsofierce,Icanbarelybreathepastit.
Ifwecanfigureoutawayaroundmymother’sthreat,ifwecanlearntolivetogether…Thiscouldbeus.Allthetime.
Arealcouple.
Theacheinmychestgetsstronger.Iwantthis,wantitsobadly,Ican’thelppullingPsycheclosertome.Betweenthetwoofus,we’llfindawayforward.We’vealreadyprovenwe’reanoutstandingteamwhenweputourheadstogether.
Mymotherdoesn’tstandachance.
Thentheelevatordoorsopenintotheparkinggarageandmyfledglinghopedrainsaway.
Helen’sbuildingisverysimilartominewhenitcomestosecurity.Thereareguardsstationedbothattheelevatorentrancesandtheparkinggarageentranceitself.Whenwearrived,therewasawomanintheboothnexttotheelevator.
It’semptynow.
Theremightbeareasonableexplanationforthat,butI’mnotwillingtobetPsyche’slifeonit.Ishifthertobetweenmeandtheelevator,thinkingfast.Mycaristhreerowsdown.Ican’tseeitfromhere.Icertainlycan’treachit,doasweeptoensureit’ssafe,andgetusoutofherewithoutlettingPsycheoutofmysight.Ifsheweresober,maybe,butthatshiphaslongsincesailed.
GoingbackuptoHelen’sapartmentmightwork,butit’sariskinanumberofways.EitherI’mbringingtroublerighttoherorshe’salreadynose-divedintoherbedandshewon’thearusevenifItrytokickthedamndoordown.Neitherisagoodidea.
Thatleavesoneoption.
ImusclePsychetotheguardbooth.Thedoorhangsslightlyopen,yetanothersignthatsomething’sgoneterriblywrong.Ipushherinsideandcupherfaceinmyhands.“Psyche,IneedyoutosoberupandIneedyoutodoitnow.”
Sheblinksthosebigeyesatmeandnods.“I’lltry.”
It’salostcause,butifIcangethertofocusforafewminutes,itwillallworkout.Itakethephoneandpressitintoherhands.“Ineedyoutocallthesecuritydeskandtellthemthere’sbeenabreach.Wedon’tknowwheretheguardis.Canyoudothat?”
“Yes?”
Shit,I’mnotcertain,butitwillhavetodo.Ireleaseherandmovetothedoor.“Donotopenthisforanyonebutme.Doyouunderstand?Notaguard,nottheheadofsecurity,notevenZeushimself.”
“Iwouldn’topenitforZeus.Heseemslikekindofanasshole.”
Inod.“Definitelyanasshole.”Thenthere’snothingtodobutleaveherhereandhopeforthebest.Istepoutoftheboothandshutthedoorbehindme.Itautomaticallylocks,asmallrelief.Theglassisalsobulletproofandthebaseissolidconcrete,soevenifsomeonerammeditwithacar,itwoulddomoredamagetothevehiclethantheboothitself.She’sassafeasIcanmakeherrightnow.
IknewIshouldhavebroughtagun.Irarelygoanywherewithoutone,buthoststendtofrownonthatsortofthing.Withafewexceptions,Olympuspartiesliketokeeptheviolenceconfinedtowordsandpowerplays.TheThirteenandtheirinnercirclesliketopretendthey’rethepinnacleofclass;theysavethedirtyworkfortheshadowsinthedarkestpartofnight.
Idohaveaguninthecar,though.
Imoveslowlydownthemiddleoftheparkingaisle,doingmybesttokeepPsycheinsight.She’sonthephone,herfaceamaskofdrunkenconcentration,soIhopetherewillbereinforcementssoon.Ican’texactlytrustthesecurityinthisbuilding,notwithhersafety,butIcantrustthatHelenwillskinthemallaliveifsomethinghappenstome.Theyknowitandtheywon’triskanyovertmovesagainstmeandmine.
Buttheymighttaketheirsweettimegettinguphereifmymother’sgottentothem.
Theparkinggarageisaswelllitasaparkinggarageiscapableof,whichmeansit’sgotplentyofshadows.EverycarIpassisexceedinglyexpensiveandshinesinthelowlight.Theonlysoundisthescuffofmyshoesagainsttheconcrete.
It’ssotemptingtoassumeI’mbeingparanoid.It’spossiblethesecurityguardrantothebathroomorsomething,butinalltheyearsI’vebeenvisitingHelen,I’veneverseenthatboothunmanned.Ican’ttaketheriskwithPsyche’slife.
Ireachmycar.Itdoesn’tappeartobefuckedwith,butIglancearoundandthenduckdowntoturnonmyphonelightandchecktheundercarriage.Idon’thonestlybelievemymotherissoangryshe’llhurtme,butshe’svolatileenoughthatIcan’ttakeanythingforgranted.Fiveminuteslater,I’msatisfiedthatnoonehasmessedwithmycar.
WhichiswhenIhearthefirstshot.It’sbarelyawhisperofsound,alittlewhistleofabulletpassingthroughasilencer.Acrackofglass.Psychescreams.
I’mupandmovinginaninstant.Sprintingdownthemainspaceissofuckingtempting,butitwouldpaintagianttargetonme.IfIweretheshooter,I’dwingmeandusethattodrawPsycheoutofthebooth.Mymothermightnotwantmedead,butIdoubtshe’dbefuriousoverafleshwoundifitremovedmywifefromthepicture.
Iduckbetweenthecars,movingasquicklyaspossibleandkeepinglowtoavoidbeingseen.Anothershot.Athird.Psyche’sstoppedscreaming,buttheglasshasn’tshattered.She’sstillsafe.
TheshootercomesintoviewasIreachtheendoftherow.He’sashortwhiteguywearinganondescriptpairofblackjeans,blackT-shirt,andblackbaseballhat.Heglancesaround,obviouslyknowingI’minthearea,andIjerkbackintotheshadowsbetweentwocars.Themansweepsaslowcircleashereloadsthegunbeforeturningbacktopointitatthebooth.Hepullsthetrigger,enlargingthespiderwebbedglassdirectlyinfrontofPsyche’sface.
Rageandfearshortoutmybrain.Istopthinking,stopworryingaboutnextsteps.Ichargehim.Hestartstoturn,butI’mtoofast.Itakehimdowninaflyingtacklethatsendsthegunskitteringoverthefloor.Itdoesn’tmatter.Idon’tneedit.
Idon’tgivehimachancetoflipme.Isimplyslamhisfaceintothegroundonce,twice,athirdtime,andthenoncemoreforgoodmeasure.Hegoeslimp.Myhandsareshaking.Whythefuckaremyhandsshaking?Ikneelonhisback,tornbetweenensuringhenevergetsupagainandnotwantingtoshowexactlyhowmonstrousIamwhileIcanfeelPsychewatchingme.KnowingwhatI’mcapableofisonething.Seeingitisentirelyanother.
“Eros!”Hervoiceisalittlemuffledbytheglass,butthere’snomistakingthefearthere.Idon’twanttolook,don’twanttoeverseethatfeardirectedatmeagain.NomatterhowmuchIdeserveit—andIdo.I’mafuckingmess.
Thesoundoftheboothdooropeningdoeswhatnothingelsecan;itgetsmemoving.IshoveoffthemanandmovetostandbetweenhimandPsyche.
Butshe’snotlookingathim.Shestumblesintomyarmsandclingstomewithastrengththattakesmybreathaway.“Youidiot.Whatwereyouthinking?Hecouldhavekilledyou.”
Shockhasmyfeetgrowingroots.“Hewasshootingatyou.”
Shefiststhefrontofmyshirtandlooksupatmewithshiningeyes.“Neverdothatagain.Ifheshotyou,I—”
Theelevatordoorsopen,cuttingoffwhatevershe’dbeenabouttosay.Securitypersonnelspilloutintothearea.Thingshappenquicklyafterthat.OncetheyrealizethisisaThirteen-on-Thirteenincident,theytaketheassassinintocustodytoawaitthearrivalofAres’speopletosortthingsout.IleavemyinformationandhustlePsycheintomycar.
Sheslumpsbackagainsttheseat,huddlinginmycoat.She’ssoberingupfast,andIhatehowscaredshelooks,butIdon’treachoutforfearthatshe’llflinchawayfromme.Iturnontothestreetandheadformybuilding.“Iwon’tletanythinghappentoyou.”
She’sgotawhite-knuckledgriponmycoat.“DidyoumissthepartwhereIwasworriedaboutyou?”
“Ihadthingsundercontrol.”Whenshestilllooksunconvinced,Itrytoelaborate.“EvenifIdidn’t,mymotherdoesn’twantmedead.”
“Allittakesisonebulletanditdoesn’tmatterwhatAphroditewants.”Shecloseshereyesbutimmediatelyopensthemagainandrollsdownthewindowabit.“I’mnotsoberenoughtotalkthroughthis.I’msorry.”
“Don’tbesorry.”I’msorry,butonlythatmymothermanagedtoruinwhatwasareallygoodnight.Wewerehavingfunbeforethis,hadcarvedoutatinylittleescapeinwhatwassupposedtobeasafespace.Psychemetsomeofmypeople,letherguarddownatinybit,andallshegotforhertroublewasanattemptonherlife.“Thiscityisfuckingpoison.”
“Therewillbeconsequencesfortonight.”Hereyesareslidingclosedagain,andthistimeshedoesn’topenthem.
“Therewill,”Isayquietly.
Murderisn’tlegalinOlympus.Farfromit.Thatdoesn’tstoptheThirteenfromhavingpeoplelikemewhodotheirdirtyworkintheshadows,butit’sanunspokenthing.ByattackingPsycheinHelen’sbuilding,asshewasleavingHelen’sparty,mymotherhasputourshitoutintheopen—orshewilliftheattackcanevenremotelybelinkedbacktoher.That’sthebigwhat-ifrightnow.Zeuswillgetinvolvedbecausehissisteristangentiallyinvolved.Areswilllaunchaninvestigation.NodoubtDemeterandPersephonewillbeshowinguponmydoorstepthesecondtheyhearthenews,whichmeansHadesisinvolvedaswell.
Thingswerealreadymessy,andthey’reonlygoingtogetmessier.
Ishouldbehappyaboutthis,butIcan’tshakethefeelingthatit’sgoingtoblowbackonmesomehow.Mymothercanbeimpulsiveintheextreme,butshe’snotafool.She’llhavemadesurenoneofthislinksdirectlytoher—oratleastdoesn’tdirectlylinkonlytoher.
No,someoneelsewillpaythepriceforthenight’sevents.I’msureofit.
Itdoesn’tmatterhoweffectivelyPsychearguedforattendingthepartytonight.Iknewtherisk,knewmymotherwouldn’tstop.IjustfoolishlythoughtIcouldprotecther.Ididn’twageronAphroditebeingsoboldastoattackusinZeus’ssister’sparkinggarage,andPsychecouldhavebeenhurtasaresultofmyarrogance.
I’vefuckedup.26
Psyche
Iwakeupinbedwithapoundingheadache.ThelastthingIrememberaboutlastnightwaslosingthebattletokeepmyeyesopeninEros’scar.Whichmeanshecarriedmetobed.Again.IgroanandrollovertofindabottleofGatoradeandTylenolpillssittingonthenightstand.Nonote,butwhywouldtherebe?Erosisfartoopracticaltotrytomakethisgestureromantic.
Andyet…itfeelsromantic.
He’stakingcareofme.Withoutflair,withoutshowymoves.Justasimpleacttomeetmyneeds.It’sstrangeandalittleunnerving,andIlikeitfarmorethanIshould.
Imanagetositupandtakethepills,andthenIdetourintothebathroomtobrushtheterribletastefrommymouthandtakeaquickshower.BythetimeIdressandgosearchingforEros,Ifeelhalfwayhuman.
Ifindhiminthesaferoom,pouringoversomedataonthecomputermonitorsinfrontofhim.HeglancesoverasIwalkin,andhissmallsmiledoesnothingtodetractfromthecirclesbeneathhisblueeyes.Istop.“Haveyousleptatall?”
“Notime.”Heturnsbacktothemonitors.“WealreadyhaveasummonsfromPerseus—Zeus—forlaterthismorning.Iknowwewantedtoholdhiminreserveasalastresort,butthatshiphassailed,andhonestly,ifhehadn’tsummonedme,Iwouldhavecalledhimandarrangedameeting.”
BecauseAphroditehasescalatedthings.Ithinkapartofmestillbelievedshewasbluffinguntilnow.She’snot,whichmeansweneedbiggergunsthaneitherErosorIcanbringtothefight.Itakeaslowbreath.“What’stheplan?”
“There’snohopeofkeepingthisunderwraps.Eveniftheassassindoesn’ttalk,wehavetotellthetruthorrisktheentiretyoftheThirteencomingdownonus,whichwouldputallourshitpublic.AtleastZeushasmotivationtofindasolutionbehindcloseddoors.”
Thesinkinginmychestisreflectedinhisface.“He’snotgoingtosidewithusagainstAphrodite.She’soneoftheThirteen.”
“TherearespecificlawswithintheThirteenagainstgoingaftertheothersandtheirfamilies.That’swhatwe’llplayon.”Erossighs.“IfitweretheoldZeus,I’dagreewithyouthatit’salongshot.Butevenifwe’renotreallyfriendsanymore,I’veknownPerseussincewewerekids.He’snotgoingtoletmymothergetawaywiththis.”
“Maybe.Ormaybehe’lldecidethatthestabilityofOlympusisworthmorethanourlives.”
“Hewon’tletherkillyou.Nomatterwhatelseistrue,Perseusisn’thisfather.Trustme,evenifyoudon’ttrusthim.We’llseewhathehastosayandgofromthere.”Erosglancesathiswatch.“Weneedtoleaveintwohours.”
Idon’tknowhowhecanbesocalmwhensomethingtrulydisastrousiswellingupinsideme.Ihavetogetsomedistancebetweenus,tomoveandexpelsomeofthisawfulfeelinginsideme.ThelongerIstandhere,themoretheeventsoflastnightwashovermeinwaves.Thefearwhenthatmanraisedthegunandpointeditatmyface,thehorribleknowledgethattheglasswouldn’tholdforever…ItwasnothingcomparedtotheterrorIfeltwhenErosappearedandtackledtheguy.
Bynature,Ifacehardtruths.Imightlietomostpeopleinthiscity,butIcan’tsurvivebylyingtomyself.Iknowwhatthatfearmeans,evenifI’mnotreadytoadmitittomyself.“Ihavetogo.”
HejerkslikeI’vestruckhim.“What?Youcan’tleave.”
“Notleave.Go.”I’mnotmakingsense.IknowI’mnotmakingsense,butIcan’tseemtohelpmyself.Panicisclawingitswayupmythroat.Ibackthroughthedoor.“Ijust…Ican’t.”
“Psyche,wait.”Eros,myterrifyingmonsterofaman,actuallylooksconcernedaboutme,whichonlymakesmypanicworse.WhendidIstartlookingathimlikeamanandnotanopponent?It’stoomuch.It’scertainlytoosoon.
Ikeepbackingaway,andhekeepsfollowingme,stilllookingconfusedandconcerned.Atleasthekeepshisdistance,butit’snotnearlyenoughformystateofmind.“Talktome.”
Ishakemyhead.“Ican’tdothis.”
Heshadowsmedownthehall,keepingacarefuldistancebetweenusevenashereachesforme.“We’llfindawaythrough.Herpeoplewon’ttouchyou.”
Buttheywon’thaveto,willthey?Ahystericallaughbubblesfree.Aphroditewon’thavetotakemyheart,becauseErosisindangerofcompletingthatmissionalready.Hedoesn’tneedmyliteralheartinhishandstocrushmebeyondrepair.He’salreadytooclose,toooverwhelming,toodamnmuch.Ibackintothefoyer,theroomofmirrors,andjerktoastopwhenfacedwithdozensofourreflectionsbouncedacrosseveryavailablesurface.“Eros,I—”
HemovesfasterthanIexpectandgrabsmyhands.Alighttouch,butIalreadyknowthatifIyankagainsthishold,Iwon’tbeabletogetfree.“Please,”Iwhisper.
“Talktome,”herepeats.“Ican’tfightwhatIcan’tsee.”
Ohgods,Ireallyamfallinginlovewiththisman.Iclosemyeyesandasingletearslipsfree.Ican’tcontrolhowIfeel—I’vealreadymorethanproventhat—butatleastIdon’thavetotellhim.Idon’tknowhowhe’dreact,andIhonestlycan’tstandthethoughtofcoldnesscreepingintoEros’seyesinresponse.
Instead,Ichooseadifferenttruth.“I’mscared.”
Helooksactuallypained.“I’msorry,”hefinallysays.“Ishouldhaveexpectedhertostrikelikethat,andIdidn’t.Itwon’thappenagain.IrealizethatyouhavenoreasontotrustmebecauseofwhatIam,but…”
“Becauseofwhatyouare,”Irepeat.Myfearweldsitselfintoafierceanger,theemotionsostrongmyentirebodyshakes.“Whatareyou,Eros?”
Hereleasesmywristandtakesastepback.Themirrorssurroundingusshowourimagesfromalldirections,andthere’ssomethingaptaboutthat,butI’mtoofocusedonthemaninfrontofmetochasethethoughtdown.Helooksaway,buthisattentionsnagsonthereflectioninthenearestmirrorandhegrimaces.“YouknowwhatIam.”
“Indulgeme.”
Hislipscurve,buthiseyesaren’thappy.Heflingsahandatthemirrortohisright.“Failure.”Themirrortohisleft.“Murderer.”Theonebehindhim.“Monster.”
“Eros,”Iwhisper.He’stalkedaboutbeingamonstermorethanafewtimes,andwhileIcanadmitthathispastactionshavebeenmonstrous,Ihatethathetakesalltheblameforitandignorestheconditionsthatbroughthimtothatpoint.Ican’tchangehismind.I’mnotevensureifIshouldtry.
Butafterwhathappenedinthatparkinggarage,Ican’thelpbutwantto.
“Youcan’tleave.”Hematchesmylowtone.“I’msureyoudon’twanttoseemyfacerightnow,butthisistheonlyplaceinOlympusIknowyou’resafefrommymother.So…Please.Pleasedon’tleave.”
“Eros,”Irepeat.“WouldyouliketoknowwhatIseewhenIlookatyou?”
Heflinches.Thiscold,arrogantmanflinchesatmyquestion.“Isupposeit’stheleastIcandoaftereverythingI’veputyouthrough.”
Oh,Eros.
Islipmyhandintohis.He’ssotense,Icantellhe’sfightingnottopullawayfromme,toretreattosomethingresemblingasaferdistance.Iturnustofacethemirrornexttothefrontdoor.Erosistryingtoshutdownhisexpression,buthestilllookspainedasItakeadeepbreath.“Iseesomeoneloyal.”
Hishandspasmsinmine.“Psyche—”
“I’mnotfinished.”Iturnusonemirrortotheright.“Iseesomeoneambitious.”
“Idon’tknowifthat’sreallyavirtue,”hemutters.
Butheallowsmetomoveustofacethenextmirror.“Iseesomeonebothcleverandintelligent.”
“Thosearethesamethings.”
“They’rereallynot.”
Hegivesmeatormentedlook.“Whyareyoudoingthis?”
BecauseIloveyou.Iswallowhard.“Becauseyouhaveonlybeentoldthenegativeaboutyourselfforsolong,that’sallyoubelieve.Everypersoncontainsabalanceofbothgoodandbadinsidethem.Evenyou.Especiallyyou.”
“Psyche…”Helooksdownatmelikehe’sneverseenmebefore.“Idon’tdeserveyou.”
Thatfiercefeelinginsidemegetsstronger.“Ithinkwe’veestablishedthatI’maflawedhumanbeing,thesameasyou.”
“No.Notthesame.”Heturnsmetofacethemirrorsandstepsbehindme.Welookgoodlikethis,evenwithhimalittlewildaroundtheeyesandmeshakinglikealeaf.Ineverwouldhavelinedusupasacouplethatfits,butourtimetogetherhasmorethanprovedmewrong.
Eroswindsmyhairaroundafist,hiseyesneverleavingmine.“DoyouknowwhatIseewhenIlookatyou?”
Iopenmymouthtomakeajoke,butthewordsdiebeforetheyleavemytongue.Ilickmylips.“Thisisn’taboutme.”
“Wrong,beautifulgirl.It’salwaysbeenaboutyou.”Hedragsinabreath,andIcanfeelthefinetremorsinhisbodywherehepressesagainstmyback.Erosspeakssosoftly,Ialmostmissthewords.“IseeawomanIdon’tdeserve,butyoumakemewanttobeabettermansothatonedayImightdeserveyou.Iseeagoddess.”
Iturninhisarms.ThewordsIpromisedmyselfIwouldn’tsaybubbleup,andIdotheonlythingIcanthinkoftokeeptheminside.Ikisshim.ThemomentmylipstouchEros’s,it’sasifsomethingexplodesbetweenus.Heuseshisholdinmyhairtotiltmyheadbackandtakethekissdeeper.Iwillnever,evergetenoughofkissingEros.Heturnsitintoanartform,anintoxicatingconnectionthatgoesstraighttomyhead.
Hebreaksthekisslongenoughtosay,“Ineedyou,Wife.”
“Yes.”Igrabthehemofhisshirtandpushitupandoverhishead.“Ineedyou,too.”
“Youhaveme.”Buthegrabsmyhands,stoppingmefromundoingthefrontofhispants.“Wait.Condom.”
That’sthesmart,rationalthingtoconsider,butIdon’twanttobesmartorrationalrightnow.“Iknowwesaidwewouldn’tmakethisdecisionintheheatofthemoment,butIdon’twanttouseacondom.”Ihesitate.“Unlessyouwantto.”
There’sthatfinetremoragaininhishandswheretheybracketmywrists.“Besure.”
Idon’tcareifit’sreckless;I’malreadynodding.“Idon’twantanythingbetweenus.Ijustwantyou.”
Hetakesmeatmyword.Erosreclaimsmymouthashegetsbusystrippingmeoutofmyunderwearandbra.Hispantshitthefloorameremomentlaterandthenhisnakedbodyisagainstmine,thedeliciousslideofhisskinagainstminegoingstraighttomyhead.Idigmyhandsintohiscurlsandtug,pullinghimdowntothefloorontopofme.
Ionlygettoenjoythefeelingofhisweightpressingmeagainstthecoolmarblefloorforamomentbeforehepushesbacktokneelbetweenmyspreadlegs.Theexpressiononhisface…Idon’tdoubtforamomentthatheseesmeasthegoddessheclaims.Myself-esteemisprettyhealthy,butwhenEroslooksatmewithsuchintensity,IfeellikeIcouldwalkonwater.
Iwanttogivehimthesamefeeling.Istarttoreachforhim,buthegivesasharpshakeofhishead.“Notyet.Ifyoutouchmerightnow,I’mgoingtobeinsideyouinthenextbreath.”
“Soundslikeaplan.”
Heshakeshisheadagain.“Notyet,”herepeats.Eroscoastshishandsupmythighs,pressingthemwide,continuinghispathuntilhereachesmypussy.Hepressestwofingersintomeandcurses.“You’resofuckingwet.”
“Youdothattome,”Igasp,archingmybackashetwistshiswristandstrokeshisfingertipsagainstmyG-spot.“More!”
“I’llgiveyoumore,Wife.I’llgiveyoueverythingyouneed.”Hedoesn’tpickuphispace,though,andwhenItrytodigmyheelsintothegroundtoliftmyhips,heplantsahandonmylowerstomachtokeepmeexactlywherehewantsme.Itfeelssogood,andit’sonlymadehotterbyhowcloselyhewatchesme.
Erosturnshishead.“Look.”
Ifollowhisgazetofindourreflectionsinthemirror.It’ssexytohavehimkneelingoverme,strummingmypleasurehigherandhigher,butseeingitasifsomeoneelsewerewatchingus?Ialmostcombustonthespot.AndthenErosstartscirclingmyclitwithhisthumbandIdocombust.
Hebarelyletsmefinishcomingbeforeheguidesmeontomystomachandthenupontomyhandsandknees.“Iseeyouhaveabitofanexhibitioniststreak.”HestrokesahanddownmyspineandImoaninresponse.“Oritisavoyeuristicstreak?”
“Both.”Iliftmyheadtowatchhimshiftbehindme,hishandsfindingmyhipsandurgingmeintothepositionhewantsme.Ican’tcatchmybreath,butIdon’tcare.“Butonlywithyou.Onlylikethis.”Ashowperformedandwitnessedbyonlyus.
“Good.”Thewordisalmostagrowl.“Idon’twanttoshareyou,beautifulgirl.”
“Idon’twanttoshareyou,either.”Notanypartofthis.Notwithanyoneelse.
Hecloseshiseyesforabeat.“Lastchance,Psyche.Areyousure?”
Noneedtoaskwhathemeans.“Nocondom,”Iconfirm.
Erosdoesn’taskagain.Heshiftsforward,guidinghiscocktomyentrance.Iholdperfectlystill,staringatthetormentedexpressiononhisfaceashesinksintome,inchbyinch.“You’resobeautiful,”Iwhisper.
Helaughsalittle,thesoundchoked.“It’sonly…”Hedragsinabreath.“Ifeellikeit’sthetruthwhenyoulookatmelikethat.”
“Itisthetruth.”
Hereclaimsmyhipsandbeginsmoving,slidinginandoutofmeinlong,smoothstrokes.Itfeelssogood,Icanbarelykeepmyeyesopen,wouldn’tbeabletoifnotfortheshowwe’reputtingonforanaudienceoftwo.Erosputseverymuscleonhisimpressivebodytouse,allwiththeintentionofbringingmethemostamountofpleasure.BeforeI
Imoanandarchmyback,anglingmyhipstotakehimevendeeper.“Isuppose…”Hepicksuphispace,andIlosemybreath.“Icouldbeconvinced…aboutthemirrors…tolikethem.”
“You’reagift,PsycheDimitriou.Afuckinggift.”Hekissesmyshoulder,myneck,thesensitivespotbehindmyear.Allwhilehekeepsupthosedevastatinglittlecirclesovermyclit,theequallydevastatingstrokesdeepinsideme.
Itrytoholdout.Itrulydo.Iwon’twantthistoend,don’twantthisperfectmomenttofadebackintorealityandalltheproblemswaitingforus.
Mybodyhasotherideas.
IcryoutasIcomehard,clampingaroundhim.EroscursesasifI’vesurprisedhimandpicksuphispace,drivingintomeuntilhisstrokesbecomeunevenandhefollowsmeovertheedge.
Heslumpsdownhalfontopofme.He’sheavy,butIlikeit.Itfeelslikehe’scontinuingtoanchormetothehereandnowevenaswerelearnhowtobreathe.
Erosbrushesmyhairoffmyface.“DidIhurtyou?”
Mykneesalreadyacheintimewithmyracingheart.It’sperfect.Ileveragemyselfupenoughtokisshim.“Thankyou.”
Somethinginhimrelaxes,andmypleasure-druggedbrainrealizesthathewasactuallyworriedthishadsomehowbeentoomuch.IreachupbeforeIcanfindareasonnotto.Myfingersfindhishair,andthelittlesmilehegivesmemakesmyheartlurch.Ilickmylips.“Imeantitaboutthemirrors.You’veconvincedmethatthey’reanasset.”
“Iknewyou’dcomearound.”Heturnshisheadandkissesmywrist.Welielikethatforalongmomentbeforehefinallylooksathiswatchandgrimaces.“Canyoufeelyourlegsyet?Weneedtogetmovingifwe’renotgoingtobelate.”
Thatpullsalaughfromme.“Soarrogant.”
“Isitarroganceifit’sthetruth?”
I’mstillgrinningasheclimbstohisfeetandpullsmeupwithhim.“Yes.Butdon’tstop.Ilikeit.”27
Eros
WemeetZeusinDodonaTower.
It’sabitofaheadtrip.ThelasttimeIwashereforameeting,itwaswiththelastZeus.I’vebeenaroundlongenoughtoseeseveraloftheThirteenswitchpeoplebehindthetitles,butpartofmebelievedthatoldfuckerwouldliveforever.IknowPerseusfeltthesameway;hewassurehe’dhaveatleastanotherdecadebeforeZeusfinallydidusallafavorandkickedthebucket.
Nooneexpectedhimtotakeaheaderoutofhisofficewindowafewmonthsago
Thankfully,theofficewherewemeetPerseus—Zeus—isn’tthatsameoffice.It’stheonehe’sbeenworkingfromforyearsnow,eversincehetookovermostoftheday-to-daytasksofrunninghisfather’scompany.Hiscompanynow.
IglanceatPsyche.Nomatterhowunconventional,havingsexinfrontofallthosemirrorsseemstohavesteadiedthegroundbeneathherfeet.She’slostthewildlookinhereyesandhasherpublicpersonafirmlyinplace.Calm,cool,andcollected.Theonlyevidenceofhernervesisherwhite-knuckledgriponmyhand.
I’mnotlikeher.I’mshitatcomforting.I’veneverhadtodoitbefore,neverhadtosearchfortherightwordstosay.Fuck,I’veneverwantedto.ShegavemesuchagiftearlierthatIcandonothingbuttry.“Itwillbeokay.”
“Thatremainstobeseen.”
“Perseusisn’tZeus.”
Shelooksatme.“That’sthething,Eros.PerseusisZeus.Hemighthavebeenyourfrienduptothispoint,butnowhe’sessentiallythekingofOlympus.Thatchangesaperson.”
Iknowthat.OfcourseIknowthat.Butpartofmerebelsatitallthesame.IwasneverasclosetoPerseusasIamtoHelenorevenEris.Istillknowhim.
“Let’sgoin.”Iopenthedoorforherandholditwhilesheprecedesmeintotheoffice.Itlooksnearlyidenticaltoeveryotherofficeinthisbuilding.Steel,marble,glass,andlittleelse.Perseussitsbehindhismassivedesk,hisfingerssteepledinfrontofhismouth.He’salwaysbeenahandsomefucker,andhewon’tthankmeforsayingit,buthereallydoeshavethelookofhisfather.Athleticbody,strongsquarejaw,golden-blondhair,thesamecoldblueeyes.
Hemotionstothechairsinfrontofthedesk,andIwaitforPsychetositbeforeItaketheemptyone.Perseuslooksbetweenusbeforefinallysettlingonme.“It’sbeentwomonthssincemyfatherdied.Youcouldn’thaveresistedstartedstartingshitforlonger?”
“Youknowme.Iliketostirthepot.”Irelaxbackintothechairandgivehimanarrogantgrin.“Butinthiscase,ifyouwanttostartpointingfingers,youcantakeitupwithAphrodite.”
“AndyetI’mhere,takingitupwithyou.”HeshootsalookatPsyche.“Idon’tsupposeyouwereawarethatyourmotherandIwerenegotiatingforamarriagebetweenyouandme?”
Shocksurgesthroughme,quicklyfollowedbyaragestrongenoughtoburnthisentirefuckingskyscrapertotheground.Psychehadmentioneditduringanearlyconversation,butIhadn’ttakenitseriously.WithallthecandidatesthrowingthemselvesatPerseus,he’dmeanttogowiththecontroversialchoiceofoneofDemeter’sdaughters?“You’vegottobejokingme.”
Heignoresme,obviouslywaitingforananswer.Psychedrawsherselfup.“Isuspecteditwasonthetable,butmymotherdidn’tseefittoinformmethatthingshadgottenasfarasnegotiations.”
“Ifiguredasmuch,butknowingaboutapendingmarriagedidn’tstopyoursisterfromrunningintoanotherman’sarms.”
Hervoicegoesfrosty.“Iamnotmysister,anditwouldn’thavemadeadifferenceifmymotherwasnegotiatingamarriageornotbecauseI’dbedead.Ordidyoumisstheattemptonmylifelastnight?”
“Watchyourtone,Psyche.”Heleansback.“I’mgoingtolaythisoutforyou.IhavenoproofthatAphroditeisbehindthisattempt.”HeholdsupahandbeforeIcancutin.“BeforeyoutellmethatsheorderedyoutokillPsyche,rememberthatifyouadmitasmuchtome,you’llshareherpunishment.”
Itense,verycarefullynotlookingatmywife.Perseusispullingnopunches.Ididn’texpecthimto,butdamn.AllPsychehastodoissayIthreatenedherlife,andshe’llremovebothmeandAphroditewithonefellswoop.Andthenshe’llmarryPerseus,marryZeus,andbecomeHera.
It’dturnthetablesinawayneitherInormymothercandoadamnthingabout.Iwouldn’tblamePsycheformakingthatcall.Idesperatelydon’twantherto,butIstillwouldn’tblameher.
“Didyoucallusheretotellusthatyoucandonothing?”Hervoicehasn’tthawedintheleast.“Ordoyouactuallyplantohelp?”
“Icalledyouheretoexplainthesituation.DemetermightbereadytoscreamforAphrodite’shead,butAphroditeisn’ttheonewho’sinsultedmyfamily—andthepositionofZeus—repeatedly.TheonlyreasonIhaven’tintervenedtodateisbecausethemarriagenegotiationswerekeptprivate.”
Istareathim.EvenwithalltheOlympuspolitics,Ihonestlythoughthewouldsidewithus.“Sowe’reonourown.”Itcouldbeworse,butthisishardlythebest-casescenario.
“UntilyoucanbringmeevidencethatAphroditeisbreakingthelawsagainstharmingothersamongtheThirteenandtheirfamilies,myhandsaretied.”Hegivesmealonglook.“You’dbewelladvisedtoensureyouaren’timplicatedinthatevidence.”
Psychesnorts.“Yourhandsareonlytiedbecauseyouwantthemtobe.”
Hisexpressiondoesn’tchange.“EverytimeoneoftheThirteentitlesispassed,there’sariskofunrestwhilethenewpersonsettlesin.NotonlyhasthetitleofZeuspassedtome,butHadesisnowinplayforthefirsttimeinoverthirtyyears.Olympusneedsstabilityrightnow,andreplacingAphroditeisnotwhatstabilitylookslike.”
Nottomentionthereareseveraltitlesthatmightbeflippedinthenextcoupleofyearsalready.Ares,inparticular,hastobesomewherenorthofeighty.He’sclingingtothattitlebyhisfingertips.Inthenextfewyears,he’lleitherkickthebucketorbeforcedtostepdown,andreplacingAresissuchafuckingspectacle,somethingthatcan’tbeaccomplishedeasilyorquickly.Notwhenatournamentdecidesthewinner.
Perseusisright.Ihatethathe’sright.Unfortunately,he’salsowageringonsomethingthat’sgotreallyshittyodds.“Youmightnothaveachoiceaboutdealingwiththis.Mymotherwon’tstop.”
“I’llspeaktoher.”
Ilaugh,thesoundbitteronmytongue.“Goodluck.”
Psychehasastrangelookonherface.“Ifthemarriagenegotiationshadn’tfallenthrough,whatwouldyouhavedone?”
Hedoesn’tblink.“I’dhaveprotectedyouandyourfamilywithallmypower.Thatoptionisbeyondusnow.EvenifyouandErosdivorcedtomorrow,theentirecitybelievesyou’realovematch.Ifyoumarriedmenow,itwouldpaintmeasthevillain,andIhavenointerestinplayingthepartatthisjuncture.”
Hecan’taffordto.Perseusmightbesmartandsavvy,buthedoesn’thavethesheeramountofcharismathatallowedhisfathertoleadallofOlympusaroundbyitsnose.Everythingwillbemoredifficultforhim,includingdealingwiththeveteranmembersoftheThirteen.Therewillbejockeyingforpowerandinfluenceandtestinghimtoseehowfartheycanpush.He’snotinanenviableposition.Thatdoesn’tmakememoreinclinedtoforgivehimfortakingtheeasyroutewiththis.
Thenthefullmeaningofhiswordspenetrate.He’dhaveprotectedbothPsycheandherfamily.Whichmeansthatifhemarriesoneofhersisters,he’llprotecther.Ishootalookather;fromthetighteningofhermouth,sheunderstandswhathe’simplying.Shepushesslowlytoherfeet.“Stayawayfrommysisters.”
“Tellthattoyourmother.”
Sheclenchesherhands,andI’malreadymoving,risingtomyfeetandsteppingbetweenherandPerseus.“Letitgo.Wehavebiggerthingstoworryabout.”
“There’snothingmoreimportantthanmyfamily,Eros.”Sheleansaroundmetoglareathim.“We’llbeback,andwe’llbringevidencethatAphroditeisbehindthis.Withoutimplicatinganyoneelse.”
“Ilookforwardtoit.”
IsqueezePsyche’shand.“Waitformeoutside.”
It’satestamenttoherangerthatshedoesn’tbothertoargue.Shemarchesoutoftheoffice,shuttingthedoorsoftlybehindher.IturntoPerseus.“You’dbreakEurydice,andmakingCallistoDimitriouoneoftheThirteenisamistakenomatterwhichwayyoulookatit.”
Hedoesn’tmove.“IfIwantedyouropinion,I’daskforit.”
“Perseus…”
“Eros.”Hesinksenoughthreatintomynametostopmeshort.“MynameisZeus.NomatterwhatfondnessIheldforyoubefore,I’mZeusnow.EverydecisionImakegoingforwardhasnothingtodowithwhatPerseuswantsandeverythingtodowithwhatZeusrequires.Don’tforgetthat.”
AreminderIcan’taffordtoignore.Itakeaslowbreath.“I’llkeepthatinmind.”
“Dothat.”Hiseyesgohard.“Ifyoubringdangertomysister’sdoorstepagain,I’llkillyoumyself,lawornolaw.”
“I’llkeepthatinmind,too.”There’snothingelsetosay.“Seeyouaround,Zeus.”Iturnandleavetheoffice
Psychefallsintostepnexttomeasweheadfortheelevator.Neitherofusspeaksuntilwe’reinmycaranddrivingoutoftheparkinggarage.Sheexhalesslowly.“Thatcouldhavegoneworse.”
“Didyouknowaboutthemarriagenegotiations?”Idon’tmeantoaskthequestion.Isureasfuckdon’tmeantoletsomethingresemblingjealousybleedintomytone.
“Notexactly.Iknewmymotherhadhereyeonapoliticalmarriagebetweenus,butIwashonestlybluffingbefore.IhadnoideaZeuswasevenentertainingtheidea.”Sheleansbackintheseatandtwiststofaceme.“IfIhadrealizedmymother’sambitionswerewelcomedbyZeus,Iwouldhavemarriedhiminsteadofyouandsolvedallmyproblemsatonce.”
“AndbecomeHeraintheprocess.”
“AndsavedmysistersfrombecomingHeraintheprocess,”shecorrectsgently.“Youknowhowthegameisplayed,Eros.Youplaythegame.Youdon’tgettobeangryaboutitafterthefact.”
She’sright.Iknowshe’sright.Itdoesn’tstopmefromwantingtopullthiscarover,shovemyhandupherskirt,andmakehercomeuntilsheforgetstherewasevenapossibilityofamarriagetoZeus.It’snotrational,andit’sdamnnearunforgivablewithourcurrentsituation.Ineedtobefocusedonthefuture,ondealingwithmymother’snextattack,ratherthanwhatmighthavehappenedifAphrodite’sjealousyandragehadn’tgottenthebestofher.IdonotneedtobepicturingaweddingbetweenmywifeandZeus.Isureasfuckdon’tneedtobethinkingabouttheweddingnight,either.He’llbeintentonsecuringhisheirandafewspares.Zeusisoneofthreetitles—Zeus,Poseidon,andHades—whoarepassedfromparenttoeldestchild.
ThethoughtofPsyche’sbellygoneroundwithpregnancy…
No,Ican’taffordtothinkaboutanyofthatshitrightnow.
Imakeanefforttolightenmygriponthesteeringwheel.She’smine,atleastforthetimebeing.Ihavetokeepmypromisetoensureshe’ssafe,whichmeansfocusingonthenextfewstepsinsteadofwhatcouldhavehappened.“Whereareweheaded?”
“Wehaveaninterview.”Sheglancesatherphone.“Andthenwe’regoingtospeakwithmymother.”
Demeter.
Anotherpowerful,dangerouswomanwho’sonlytoohappytouseherchildrenaspawnsintheOlympianpowergames.Yes,IhavesomethingstosaytoDemeter.“Okay.”
“Eros.”Psychereachesoutalmosthesitantlyandtouchesmyarm.“Ineedyourheadinthegame.Areyouwithme?”
“Yes.”It’seventrue.I’vebeencompartmentalizingsinceIwasachild.It’snothingnew.Myendgoalhasn’tchanged,thoughnowit’sexpandedtoensurethatZeusnevertouchesPsyche.Ican’ttellherthat,though.She’llsaythatI’mbeingirrational,thatit’samootpointbecauseourmarriagehasensuredheneverwill.
Idon’tcare.Ihavenorighttothisjealousy,especiallywhenPsycheismineineverywaythatcounts,butthatdoesn’tstopmefromwantingtobrandmypresenceonherveryskin.ThemoretimeIspendwithher,theharderitistocontrolmybaserurges.IfeellikeIhaveamonsterinsideme,rattlingthecageofmycontrol.Eventuallyitwill
“Eros.”She’squietforseveralblocksbeforeshetakeswhatsoundslikeafortifyingbreath.“Itdoesn’tmatterwhatIwouldhavedoneifmymotherreachedhergoals.Itdidn’thappen.Imarriedyou,notZeus.Iamyourwife,nothis.I’mcommittedtoseeingthisthrough,sopleasestopthinkingwhateverisgoingthroughyourheadrightnow.WeneedZeus’ssupport,andthesecircumstanceshavealreadyensuredthatit’sgoingtobenearlyimpossibletopullthatoff.”
I’mcommittedtoseeingthisthrough
Iknowshe’stalkingaboutwhatisessentiallyourcon.Marriageforaslongasittakestokeepherandherfamilysafefrommymother.She’snottalkingaboutforever.
Butjustforamoment,Ireallywishshewere.
I’mnotadreamerbynature.Ilikefactsandrealityratherthanthefantasticversionofwhatcouldbe.ThefactisthatPsycheonlysaidyesatthataltarbecauseIforcedherto.Shedidn’tchooseme;sheneverwouldhavechosenmeifgivenherfreedom.
Itdoesn’tmatter.Iwon’tletitmatter.I’vealreadydecidedtokeepher,andnowallthat’sleftispavingthatpathforwardbetweenus.IwantPsycheinmybedforever.Iwantthepossibilityofyearsspinningoutbetweenus,ofnewschemesandgamesandplayingthepublicofOlympustoourwhims.
Iwant…children.
Thethoughtstaggersme.It’snotsomethingI’veputmuchconsiderationinto.Myfatherisn’taround—Aphroditedoesn’tallowforanycompetition,eveninparenting—andmymotherishardlyaperfectspecimenofwhatgoodchild-rearinglookslike.Upuntilthispoint,I’vealwaystakenforgrantedthatourlinewouldendwithme.
Notanylonger.
IcoverPsyche’shandwithmineandgiveheralittlesqueeze.“Myheadiswhereitshouldbe.We’llseethisthrough.”
Andafter?
After,I’llconvinceherthatforevercouldbeours.28
Psyche
Theinterviewisanicedistraction.It’ssonormalinthemidstofasituationthat’sanythingbut.Erosmanagestopullhimselftogetherenoughtobecharming,butIknowhimwellenoughnowtorecognizethathe’salittleoff.It’sadisconcertingrealization,boththatwhathappenedwithZeuswasenoughtothrowhimoffhisgameandthatIcanseethesigns.
Asagreed,CliokeepstothesubjectsweoutlinedwhenIsetthisup.It’smostlysoftballquestionsabouthowwemetandtheweddingitself.Afairexchangeforbeingthefirsttobreakwithaninterview.Mostofthetime,Olympuscareslessabouttherealstorythanaboutwhateverspintheywanttoputonthings,butClioisn’ttoobadforareporter.I’veknownhersincebeforeshegothermostrecentpromotion,andwe’vehelpedeachotheroutcountlesstimesovertheyears.
She’sacurvyBlackwomanwithanimpeccablestyle.Todayshe’swearingloosepleatedgraytrousersandasleevelesscreamblousethatdoeswondersforhersilhouette.IfI’mnotmistaken,IrecognizeJuliette’swork.Itseemsshetookmyadvicetotrythedesignerout.Good.
Cliomightbeonthegossipcircuitrightnow,butshe’shungryfordeeperstoriesthanhercolumncanprovide.She’salsosmartenoughtorealizethatshecan’tgochasingdownthoseleadswithouttheThirteenturningonher.Notyet,anyway.
Thatdoesn’tstopherfromcollectinganyandallinformationthatcomesherway,miningforagoldnuggetinthemidstofsomuchmud.IhopeIhaveoneforhertoday.
Wewrapthingsupquickly,andIpressasoftkisstoEros’slips.“Doyoumindwaitingoutsideforamoment?”
Hehesitates,butthere’snothingtoargueabout.We’reinmymother’sbuilding,andtherearenowindowsinthisboardroom.Clioishardlyanassassin;shewouldn’thavemanystoriesifshekilledoffhersources,andshe’stooambitioustothrowherfutureawayforthechanceAphroditemightprotecther.Erosseemstorealizethatandfinallynods.“Don’tbelong,love.”
“Wouldn’tdreamofit.”
Wewatchhimwalkout,andCliowhistlesthesecondthedoorcloses.“Boldchoice,Psyche.”
“Youhavenoidea.”Imanagenottoblush,butit’sanearthing.Clioisn’tafriendandlikelyneverwillbe,butwe’realignedinanumberofways.“Ihaveatipforyou.”
Shetiltsherheadtotheside,herlongblackbraidsslidingoverhershoulder.“DoesthishavetodowiththerealreasonyouwentfromavoidingErosliketheplaguetohavingthatgiantdiamondonyourfinger?”
“No.”Iwon’tbreakourcover,notevenforClio.EspeciallynotforClio.“ThishastodowithafeudbetweenAphroditeandDemeter.”
“Oldnews.”Cliowavesthataway.“They’vebeenateachother’sthroatsforyears.There’snothingworthdiggingforthere.”
“You’dbesurprised.”
Sheraisesherbrows.“Okay,I’mintrigued.Surpriseme.”
“AphroditeissofuriousthathersonmarriedDemeter’sdaughter,she’stakenoutahit.”
Clioblinks.“That’squitetheallegation.Doyouhaveanyproof?”
NotthatI’mwillingtoshare.Notenough.Igiveherasardonicsmile.“Sincewhendothegossipcolumnsneedproof?”
“Fairpoint.”Hergazegoesdistant,andIcanalreadyseehowherimpressivebrainisconsideringthespinonthis.“I’llneedmoreinordertopostanything.Aphroditeisabitchandahalf,andshewon’thesitatetocallformyjobandslapmewithalibelsuit.Hearsay,evenfromyou,isn’tenoughtotakethatrisk.”
Ifiguredasmuch.Iglanceatthedoor.“TherewasadisturbanceinHelenKasios’sbuildinglastnight.Ares’speoplewerecalledintotakecustodyoftheassassin.Theystillhavehim.”
Cliolaughssoftly.“Well,thatIcanworkwith.Ican’tpromisetoworkfast,becauseI’llneedtoverifyeverything,butI’llasksomequestions.”Shestartstogatherupherpurse.“CanIassumeI’llgetacallifthereareanymoredisturbancesthatshemightbeconnectedto?”
“Yes,aslongasyoupromisetogivemeaheads-upbeforeyourunthestory.”
“Youhaveyourselfadeal.”
Weshakeonit.Erosiswaitinginthehallway,andweheadtotheelevatorwhileCliostridesoutthefrontdoors,anintenselookonherface.Erosglancesatme.“DoIwanttoknowwhatyoutalkedabout?”
“Zeuswantsthingsquieteddown,buthewon’ttakeourwordforitorstepinunlessweforcehishand.UtilizingClioisonewaytogoaboutit.”
“Itwon’tbeenough.Thegossipsitesrunscandalousstoriesallthetimeandnooneblinksanymore.He’llwriteitoffasfiction.”
“Hewould…ifthat’stheonlythingwe’regoingtodo.”Idredgeupasmile,eventhoughthelastthingIfeellikedoingrightnowissmiling.“That’swherephasetwocomesintoplay.”
Heshakeshisheadslowly.“Youaretrulyterrifying,Wife.”
Wife.
Noreasontogetathrillfromhimcallingmethat.Noneatall.Thismarriagemightbereal,butit’snotreal.Itdoesn’tmatterifI’vefallenforEros;Ihavetorememberthat.Iwaitfortheelevatordoorstoclosetostepawayfromhim,needingalittledistance.“IjusthopeI’mterrifyingenoughtopullthisoff.Mymotherputsmetoshame.”Thoughrightnow,IhaveenoughangerthatI’mnotworriedabouttheconversationwe’reabouttohave.
ShetriedtosellmetoZeus.
It’snoteventhepotentialmarriageIhaveissuewith.Shedidn’teventrytotalktomeaboutit,didn’ttrustmetorecognizethevalueofmakingthatplay.Shesimplywentovermyhead.
“I’llfollowyourlead.”Eroswatchesmeinthereflectionoftheelevator,buthemakesnomovetoclosethedistancebetweenus.Doeshefeelthepullevennow?Ido.
“Okay.”Itakeabreath,straightenmyspine,andmarchintomymother’spenthousethemomenttheelevatoropens.Ichosenottotexthertoletherknowwewerecoming,butMotheralwaysspendsSaturdayearlyeveningsathome,usuallygettingreadyforsomeeventorother.Ialreadycheckedhercalendar,andshewon’tbeleavingforanotherhour.
Iliftmyvoice.“Mother!”
Ittakesexactlytwominutesforhertoappear.She’sasperfectlyputtogetherasalways,herdarkhairpinnedback,hermakeupimmaculate,herdark-greengownelegantandgivingtheearthmothervibethatshecarefullycuratesforthepublic.ShetakesonelookatErosandshakesherhead.“Ifyouwanttotalk,hecanwaitdownstairs.”
“Youdon’thavethehighground,Mother.”Istepforward.IcatchsightofCallistointhehallwayleadingtoourbedrooms,butshemakesnomovetojointheconversation.It’sjustaswellthatshehearsthis,too;itaffectsher,afterall.“WhenwereyougoingtotellmethatyouintendedtomarrymeofftothenewZeus?Whenyouambushedmeatthealtar?”
Mother’stoogoodtoshowsurprise,butherpausespeaksvolume.“Hetoldyou.”
“I’vebeentoseehim,yes.”
Hergazesharpens.“Why?”
“We’llgettowhyinamoment.Answerthequestion.”
“Iwasgoingtospeakwithyouaboutitthisweek,infact.Negotiationshadreachedthefinalstages,andIintendedtosityoudownandwalkyouthroughthereasonswhythisisanexcellentmatch.”Sheholdsmygaze.“Perseusisn’thisfather.Idoubtyouwouldhaveevenneededtodisposeofhim.He’ssuchaborethatyou’remorethancapableofhandlinghim.”SheflicksadisdainfullookatEros.“Oryouwouldhavebeenifyouhadn’tmarriedthisone.”
ErosiswearingthesamehardlookhehadwhenZeusrevealedthemarriageplans.Ican’treaditatall.It’sasifhe’sturnedtoapillarofice.Itoldhimthetruthinthecaronthewayoverhere;ifmymotherhadcometomewiththeseplans,Iwouldhavegonethroughwiththem.HerreadonPerseus—onZeus—isthesameIhave.Hemayberuthlessintheextreme,butheseemstogenuinelycareabouthissiblings,whichismorethantheoldZeuscouldsay.Hedidn’tcareaboutanyonebuthimself.Perseusalsohasnoviolenceinhispast.Iknow;Ilooked.
Butthatdoesn’tmeanIwantoneofmyremainingsinglesistersmarryinghim.“Taketheplansoffthetable.”
“Youknowbetter.”Mothershakesherhead.“You’vepaintedmeintoacornerwithyouractions.”
Damnit,that’swhatI’mafraidof.Ilookoverhershoulder,butCallistohasdisappeared.It’sjustaswell.ThelastthingweneedishergettingitintoherheadtoshovethisZeusoutawindoworsomethingequallyfinal.SuccessionwouldpasstoHelenatthatpoint,andwhilesheseemsgreat,shealsoseemssoyounginanumberofways.ItwouldspelldisasterforOlympus.
Loveorhatethecity,thefactremainsthattheThirteenkeepitrunningsmoothly.Everyonehastheirroles,theirownlittlesliceofthepie.Iftheywerenormalpeople,thosesliceswouldbeenough,butnormalpeopledon’taspiretobenumberedamongtheThirteen.No,everysingleoneofthemisambitiousandcutthroatandwillingtosteponotherstopropelthemselveshigher.Lefttotheirowndevices,theywouldbegoingtowarwitheachotherinsideofayear.NomatterwhatmypersonalfeelingsarewhenitcomestothetitleofZeus,thetruthisthatitrequiresaformidablepersonalitytokeeptheothersinline.
Inanothertenyears,Helenmightbestrongenough.She’snotnow.
TherearedayswhenI’dliketoseethiscityburntotheground,butultimately,it’shome.IfIwanttokeepthepeopleofOlympusasrelativelysafeastheyarerightnow,thatmeansPerseusneedstostayZeus.Noconvenientaccidents.Nooutrightplansformurder.NotthatIwasreallyconsideringkillinghim…
AslongashestaysthefuckawayfromEurydice.
Callistocantakecareofherself.
Ican’tworryaboutanyofthatnow.IhavetoconcentrateonsurvivingAphrodite’swrathfirst.Forthat,Ineedmymother.“We’lldiscusspotentialmarriageplanslater.Rightnow,therearemoretime-sensitiveissues.”
“Isee.”Shesighs.“Comein.Havingthisconversationinthefoyerisdéclassé.”
Wefollowherintothelivingroom,Erosaglaringstormcloudatmyback.Hisenergyhaschangedinthefewminuteswe’vebeenhere.IfIdon’tmissmyguess,he’sgonepastfrozenandstraightintoicyrage.Andit’sallpointedatmymother.
Withthatinmind,Igrabhishandandtughimdownontothecouchnexttome.Idon’tthinkhe’llharmher,buthe’smorethancapableofit.TherearetimeswhenIhatemymother,butshe’sstillmineandIdon’twantherhurt.
IsuspectthatconflictedfeelingissimilartowhathefeelsforAphrodite.
Mothersinksontothechairacrossfromusandarrangestheskirtofherdressaroundher,theverypictureofaqueeninwaiting.“Tellmewhatmessyou’vegottenyourselfinto.”
“Onecouldargueyougotherintoit.”Eros’svoiceishard.
Iplacemyhandonhisthighandtellher.Everything.Oh,Ileaveoutthesexbecausethat’snoneofherbusiness,butIwalkherthroughthesequenceofeventsoverthelastfewdaysthatbroughtustothisplace.WhenIfinish,mymotherlooksalittlepaleandabsolutelyfurious.
Sheseemstomakeanefforttoreleaseherdeathgriponthearmsofthechair.“I’llkillher.”
“Youwon’t,”IcutinbeforeEroscan.“Wedon’twantherdead.”
“Andyou.”Sheturnshazeleyes,sosimilartomine,onhim.“Didyouthinkmythreatswerewithoutmerit?Youthreatenedmydaughter.You—”
“Mother.”Iinjectsteelintomytone.“That’senough.Eroshasnotharmedme.”
“Idisagree.Heharmedyouwiththismarriage.”
Iletthatgobecausethisisn’tanargumentI’llwin.“Regardless,it’sdone.IfyoutrytoremoveAphrodite,I’llbringmynot-inconsiderableknowledgeaboutyoutothepress.Alltheshadydealingsandquestionablemoves.ThestuntyoupulledtotrytogetPersephonebacktotheuppercity.Theclean-upjobonZeus’sdeath.Everybit.”
ShefinallystopsglaringatErosandgivesmeherfullattention.“You’rethreateningmetokeepthewomanwhowantsyoudeadsafe?”
“Ifyouwanttoseeitthatway.”
“Why?”
BecauseIloveErosandIdon’twanttoseehimharmed,evenifitputsmeatrisk.KillingAphroditewillharmmyhusband.Hedoesn’thavetosayasmuchformetorecognizethat.
Idon’tsayit.Eveniftheybelievedme,bothofthemwouldnamemeafoolforverydifferentreasons.Motherneverletsomethingasmundaneasemotionsgetinthewayofherplansandambitions.AndEros?TheonlythingErosofferedmewassafetyandsex.Nothingsofter,nothingmore
“BecauseIamchoosingthemethodofmyrevenge.”That,atleast,sheshouldunderstand.
Shefinallynods.“Idon’tlikeit,butIwillabidebyyourwishesinthis.”ShepointsatEros.“Withthecaveatthatifsomethingharmsmydaughter,Iwillburnyourlegacytoash.”
“Noted.”
“IwouldlikeyoutosetupameetingformewithPoseidon.”I’ddoitmyself,butIcancountononehandhowmanytimesI’veseenhimateventsinthelastyear,andevenbeforethen,heneverdidmuchminglingatZeus’sparties.IfIshowuptotheshipyardwithoutaninvitation,IdoubtI’llbeabletogetaccesstohim.
NottomentionPoseidonnotoriouslyloathesEros,sotherewillbenohelponthatfront.
Herbrowssnaptogether.“Poseidon?YourtimewouldbebetterspentfocusingonHadesorZeus.Poseidondoesn’tlikepowergames.”
Iknow.That’swhatI’mcountingon.HemostlystaysoutoftheintriguenativetotheThirteen,buthe’salegacytitleandcarriestheheftofpowerthatbrings.MymotherhasuniqueaccesstohimbecauseshehandlesfeedingOlympus.Whilemostofthefooditselfcomesfromthelandsurroundingthecity,therearecertainthingsthatsimplycan’tbehomegrown.Poseidonisinchargeofimportsandexports,oneofthefewwhocancomeandgofromOlympusashepleases.It’sresultedinadecentworkingrelationshipbetweenhimandmymother.
WeneedbothPoseidonandHadesinourcornerbeforewecirclebacktoZeus.“Please,Mother.”
Shefinallynods.“I’llseeitdone,thoughIcan’tpromiseitwillbespeedy.Themanlikestododgemycallswhenhecanmanageit.”
“I’msureyou’remorethancapableofpinninghimdown.”
“OfcourseIam.”Sherises.“Now,Ihaveaneventtofinishgettingreadyfor.Youknowwherethedooris.”Shepauses.“Thankyoufortellingme,Psyche.”
“YoucanthankmebytossingoutthenegotiationswithZeus.”
Shegivesmeatightsmileanddisappearsdownthehallwayleadingtowardthemasterbedroom.Idon’texactlybreatheasighofreliefwhenshe’soutofsight,butsomeofthefightgoesoutofme.IturntoEros.“I—”
“We’lltalkinthecar.”Hejerkshischinatsomethingovermyshoulder,andIturntofindCallistostandingthere.
Itense,halfexpectinghertothreatenEroslikeeveryoneelseinmylifeseemsto.Butsheturnsahardlookatme.“Isittrue?Mother’sstillgothereyeonHeraforoneofus?”
Iswallowhard.“Yes,but—”
“Don’ttellmethatshe’llbackoff.Webothknowshewon’t.IfthatsituationwithPersephonewasn’tenoughtodissuadeher,nothingyoudoorsaywill.”SheflicksherfingersatEros.“He’samonster,buthe’snoHades.”
“Thanks,”hemutters.
“Callisto,we’llfigureitout.”
Herlipscurve,buthereyesstayohsocold.Shecrossestomeandgripsmyshoulders.“YouandPersephonehavebeentakingcareofuslongenough.I’llhandlethis.”
Truefearslashesthroughme.“Youcan’tkillhim.”
“Iknow.”Shesqueezesmyshouldersanddropsherhands.
“But—”
“Worryaboutyourself,Psyche.IfAphroditelaysonefingeronyou,I’llmakewhathappenedtothelastZeuslooklikeagentledeath.”Sheturnsandwalksaway.
Shit.Shit.Shit.
“Thisisbad.”
“Psyche.”Eroswaitsformetolookathim.“Youcan’tfighteverybattleatonce.Wehavetoprioritize,andrightnowwehavemorepressingthingstoworryaboutthanyourmother’spotentialmarriageplansforyoursisters.YoucanchasethisdownafterwedealwithAphrodite.”
He’sright.Iknowhe’sright.Butreleasingyears’worthofresponsibilityandworryiseasiersaidthandone.I’vealwaysworkedwithPersephonetomanageCallisto’sanger,toprotectEurydicefromtheworstOlympushastooffer.LettingthatgoisterrifyinginacompletelydifferentwaythandealingwithAphrodite.
ButIallowErostosteermetotheelevatorandthenthroughthelobbyandoutontothestreet.Ihavetotrustthatmysisterknowswhatshe’sdoingandthatsheisn’tabouttolandusinevendeeperwater.
Ireally,reallyhopeCallistoprovesthattrustisfounded.Ifshedoesn’t,we’reinforawholelotoftrouble.29
Eros
ItakePsychehome.There’snothingelsetobedonetonight,andshelooksasrattledasIfeel.IhonestlyexpectedZeustostepin.Zeusis—was—afriend.Ishouldhaveknownbetterthantoexpectthattomeansomethinginthisgodsdamnedcity.
Wehavelawsforareason,though,andeveryoneknowswhathappenedthelasttimeamemberoftheThirteenturnedagainstanother.ThelastHades—andhiswife—weremurdered,leadingtothirtyyearsofOlympusassumingthattitlehaddisappearedentirely.Thosedeathswerethereasonwehavethelawagainstkillingoneanotherinthefirstplace.It’ssupposedtosafeguardbothtitlesandtheirfamilies.
It’ssupposedtomeanthatifanyoneviolatesit,thefullweightoftheothermembersoftheThirteenwillcomedownonthem.
Admittedly,thatwouldmeanI’dseeconsequencesformypartinmymother’sschemes,butit’sasmallpricetopaytoensurePsychestayssafe.
Strangehowmyprioritieshaveshiftedsomuchinsuchashorttime.
Iglanceovertowheremywifeisstaringoutthewindowwithacontemplativelookonherface.Ormaybenotsostrangeatall.I’maselfishbastard.Shematterstome,soofcourseIdon’twantherharmed.It’sassimpleandcomplicatedasthat.
Whenwemakeituptomypenthouse,Psycheslowsintheentrancewayandstaresatthestatueforalongmoment.“Myplanmightnotwork.IfZeusandtheothersadmitthatAphroditedidthis,thentheyhavetodealwithit,andit’smucheasiertolooktheotherway.”
Iwalkupbehindherandslipmyarmsaroundherwaist,gentlypullingherbacktorestagainstmychest.“Hadeswillhelpyou.”
“Iknow.Mysisterwillensurethat.”Shesighs.“ButultimatelyHadesisoneman.Evenwithmymotherinvolved,that’stwoofthirteen.Thosearen’twinningodds,nomatterwhichwayyoulookatit.”
She’sright.Iclosemyeyesandinhalehercookiescent.Wehavetomakethiswork.Mymotherissmartandsavvyandambitious,butwhenshehashersightssetonsomeone,shebecomesobsessedtothepointwheresheseesnothingelse.ShewillbackdownifwecangetenoughmembersoftheThirteeninourcorner.Ibelievethat.Ihavetobelievethat.But…“Ifourplanfails,I’lltakecareofit.”Nomatterwhatmeansarenecessary.Idon’twantto.Fuck,Idon’twantittogettothatpoint,butIwon’tletherhurtPsyche.Thatismylineinthesand,theoneIwillnotcross,nomatterwhoelsepaystheprice.EvenifitmeansIpaytheprice.
Psycheturnsinmyarmsandclenchesmyshirtinherfists.“No,Eros.Iwon’tletyoudothat.Notevenifitmeansmylife.”
She’sserious.Hersincerityiswrittenthereonherprettyface.Gods,thiswomankillsme.Ipullhercloser,asifthepressofherbodyagainstmineisenoughtobanishmydarkthoughts.Itdoesn’twork.Ofcourseitdoesn’twork.Iletoutabitterlaugh.“Iloseregardless.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Haven’tyoufigureditout,Psyche?Icareaboutyou.Losingyouwillhurtme.”
Sheshakesherhead.“You’rejustsayingthat.”
“No,I’mnot.”Itakeaslowbreathandrestmyforeheadagainsthers.“WhenI’mwithyou,Ifeelhuman.Iflatoutfuckingfeel.Doyouunderstandwhatthatmeansforapersonlikeme?Ithoughtthosepartsweredeadandburiedsodeepthatthey’dneverseelightagain.Ihadtocutthemdowninordertocontinuetodothethingsrequiredofme.”
“Eros…”
ButI’mnotdone.“Evenwiththat,Idon’tknowifI’mreallycapableoflove,notinthewayanormalpersonis.Itdoesn’tmatter.Icareaboutyou,andnoamountofrationalizingthatawayisgoingtochangethetruthofit.Sodon’tbother.”
Sheletsoutalittlesoundthatmightbealaugh—orpossiblyasob.“We’resuchamess.”
“Ithinkthatgoeswithoutsaying.”Irunmyhandupherback.“Ipromisedtokeepyousafe,andthat’swhatIintendtodo.”
“Whataboutyou?”
Iblink.“Whatdoyoumean,whataboutme?”
Sheleansbackenoughtolookupatme.“Who’skeepingyousafe,Eros?”
“Idon’tunderstandthequestion.”
Shemakesthatstrangelittlesoundagain.NowthatIcanseeherface,Irecognizeitasalaugh.“No,youwouldn’t,wouldyou?You’resowillingtocutyourheartouttokeepmesafe,itneveroccurredtoyouthatI’dfeelthesameway.”Shetugsonmyshirt.“Iwon’tletyoubearthecostofhurtingyourownmother.We’llfindanotherway.”
“Theremightnotbeanotherway.”Itpainsmetoadmitasmuch.ThissituationwouldbesomuchsimplerifItrulyhadnohearttocutout,ifIwereaswithoutfeelingasmymotheraspiredtomakeme.“Idon’twanttoargue.I’mstatingfacts.”
Psyche’slipscurve,buthereyesstaytroubled.“SoamI.Iwon’tletyoubearthatburden.Notforme.Notforanyone.We’llfindanotherway.”
Wecouldgoroundandroundlikethisathousandtimes,anditwon’tchangethefacts.IgivePsycheasqueeze.“Youshouldeat.”
Shemakesaface.“Thatwasaveryartlesschangeofsubject.”
“Nothingwillbedecideduntiltomorrowattheearliest,andyoumissedatleastonemealtoday.”SomethingIshouldhavepaidattentionto,butthere’sbeensomuchgoingon,I’mdroppingballs.EvenonesIcan’taffordto,likeensuringPsycheistakencareof.She’salreadyprovenherselftobedrivenandrelentlesswhenitcomestoensuringshelandsonherfeet.It’sanasset,butitalsomeansshe’signoringwhatsheviewsassmallerneedswhilefocusedonthelargerones.“Comeon.”
Itakeherhand,enjoyingthewaysheletsme.It’seasiertofocusonthatpointofcontact,onmeasuringthestepsittakestobringusintothekitchen,thanitistocirclebacktowhatshesaidearlier.
Shecaresaboutme.
ShecaresifI’mharmed,evenbymyownactions.
Idon’tknowwhattodowiththat.Partofmewantstocrowmyvictorytotheheavens,andtherestjustmuddlesoverwhatthefucksheevenmeans.Iamnotsomeonewhoneedstobeprotected.Iamtheknifeinthedark,thethreatreadytobeleveledatanyenemythatarises.WhatthefuckdoIneedashieldfor?
Exceptthat’swhatPsycheisoffering,inherway.Perhapsnotashield;abetterdescriptionofwhatshe’sofferingmeisasafeplacetoland.Bothideasareasforeigntomeassproutingwingsfrommybackandtakingflight.
“Sandwich?”
“Sure.”
Igettoworkputtingonetogetherforeachofusasshewatchesme.ItstrikesmealloveragainhoweasyitistobewithPsyche.Evenwhenwe’repushingateachotherorfuckinguntilIcan’tthinkstraight,we’veslidintoeachother’slivesnearlyseamlessly.It’sagiftIneverthoughttoexpect.Itmakesme…wantthings.ThingsIwascertainweren’tforme.
Likechildren.“Didyoumeanitwhenyousaidyouwantedkids,Psyche?”
Shejolts.“What?”
Icuthersandwichinhalfandslideherplateacrossthecountertoher.“It’sasimpleenoughquestion.”
“I…”Shelooksatherplateandthenlooksatme.“Yeah.Idid.Itwasn’tjustaploytomakeyouempathizewithme.Ireallydowantafamily.”
Amonthago,IwouldhavelaughedanyoneoutoftheroomiftheysuggestedImightactuallywantthesame.ButeversinceourconversationwithZeus,Ihaven’tbeenabletogettheimageofthatkindoffuturewithPsycheoutofmyhead.Iwantitall.Itdoesn’tmatterifshedeservesbetterthanme.Nootherpartnerisgoingtoreadilyburndown
Iknowbetterthantotellherwheremyhead’satrightnow.Wehaveagianthurdletogetoverbeforewecantalkaboutanythingresemblingthefuture.Eventhen,ifwesuccessfullyremovethethreatmymotherposes,thatalsoremovesanyreasonwehavetobemarriedtoeachother.Iwon’tbeabletomakeherstay;evenI’mnotruthlessenoughtoforceherintoforeverifshewantsherfreedom.
Uncomfortable,desperatethoughts.
WhatthefuckamIgoingtodo?
Wefinisheatinginsilence.Whatelseistheretosay?Isimultaneouslywanttotetherhertomeforeverandstayquiettoavoidsayingsomethingthatneitherofuscantakeback.Admittingtocaringisonething.Tellingherthetruthrumblinginsidemeisoutofthequestion.Icanbarelyadmitittomyself.
Iloveher.
Itrythewordsoutaswebrushourteeth,asliceofdomesticitythatmustbesomundaneforeverydaycouplesbutthatIwanttoencaseforeverinmymemorybecausethis,too,isirreplaceable.Alltheselittlemomentswithherarenewandnovel,andifsomethinghappenstoherorthisblowsupinmyface,I’llhavetosellthisfuckingpenthouseandmoveawaybecausePsyche’smanagedtoimprintherselfoneverybitofspaceintheshorttimewe’vebeentogether.
I’llneverbeabletosleepinmybedrememberingallthepleasurewe’vedealteachotherthere.Nevercookinmykitchenwithoutreplayingeverywordofeveryconversationwe’vehadthere.Andthefoyer?Forgetaboutit.
Shehasn’tevenhadachancetoadditemstothemainspacethewaysheplans.Iwon’tbeabletoliveherewonderingwhatchangesshewouldhavemadeifgivenenoughtime.Itwillkillme.
“Eros.”
IrealizeI’vebeenstaringatmyselfinthemirrorfartoolongandshakemyhead.“It’snothing.I’mfine.”
“Areyousure?”
No.Notevenalittlebit.Iturntoher.Itwouldbesosimpletokissheranddoawaywiththeneedforanymorewordstonight.IknowherbodyofferssalvationthatIcanfindnowhereelse.Butwe’vemovedbeyondjustfucking,andIthinkwebothknowit.“Psyche.”
Shetwistsherhairaroundonefinger,herbrowspullingtogetherintoafrown.“Yes?”
“I…”Fuck,whyisthissohard?Iclearmythroatandtryagain.“Ineedyoutonight.”
Herexpressionsoftens.“Okay.”
Thatnearlymakesmelaugh;Iwouldiftherewasenoughairinthisroomtofillmylungs.“You’renotgoingtoaskmewhatIneedfromyoubeforeagreeing?”
“No.”Shegivesasmallsmile.“Why?ShouldIbeterrified?”
Ifsheknewwhatwasgoingoninmyhead,thewayIwanttotiehertomeineverywaypossible,shemightbe.Irubthebackofmyhandovermychest.“I…wanttoholdyoutonight.”
Thatseemstosurpriseher.“Holdme?Ithoughtforsureyouwereabouttoproposesomefreakysexstuff.”
“Maybelater.”Ishould.She’salreadyadmittedthatshecan’tseparatesexandemotionalattachment,soseducingheristhesurefirewaytoensureshefallsformejustashardasI’vefallenforher.
Tonight,though,it’snotwhatIneed.Ineedherbodynexttomine,thepressofheragainstme,whileIliethereandmeasurehersteadybreathing.Ijustneedtofuckingholdher.Ilookaway,flushingdespitemybestefforts.“It’sfine.Forgetit.”
“No.”Hervoicegoesquiet.“No,I’msorry.Thatwasanassholeresponse.”Shestepscloseandslidesherarmsaroundme.It’scriminalhowperfectlyPsychefitsagainstme.HowamIsupposedtomoveonwithmylifeafterknowingthere’sapersonwho’stheotherhalfofmypuzzle?Damnit,I’mamessrightnow.
Shesqueezesme.“Withclothesorwithout?”
“Without.”
Psychelaughsalittle.“Okay.Comeon.”Shereleasesmeandwalksoutofthebathroom,leavingmetotrailbehindher.Idowithouthesitation,andasaresult,I’mtreatedtothesightofmywifestrippingasshewalkstowardourbed.Sheshootsmealookoverhershoulder.“Youwerestaringatmyass,weren’tyou?”
“Canyoublameme?Youhaveanexcellentass.”Bigandbitable.
“Iknow.”Sheslidesbetweentheblanketsandscootsover,makingroomforme.
Istripquicklyandjoinher.Thesheetsarecool,andPsychewastesnotimeplasteringherselftomeandpressinghernosetomyneck.“Youkeepthisplacewaytoocold.”
Isettleontomybackwithherdrapedhalfacrossmychest.This.ThisiswhatIneed.Icanfeelherheartbeatthroughmyribs,hersoftexhalesagainstmyskin.Areminderthatshe’shere,she’ssafe,andshe’llstaythatwaythroughthenight.
Shetwinesherlegsaroundmineandsnugglescloser.“Eros?”
“Yeah?”Isiftmyfingersthroughherhair,enjoyingtheweightofitagainstmypalm.
“ImeantwhatIsaid.Iwon’tletitgettothepointwhereyouhavetomakethatchoice—theonebetweenmeandyourmother.There’sasolutionhere.Ijustneedtimetofigureitout.”
Iclosemyeyes,lettingthesoftweightofheragainstmelullmyracingthoughtstoastandstill.“Ifanyonecanfindawaythrough,youcan.”
“Just…trustme,okay?”
“Ido.”It’seventhetruth.Wedon’thaveenoughtime,enoughspace,tocomeupwithabetterplanthanwealreadyhave,butallofithingesonDemetergettingusameetingwithPoseidon.“Sleepnow.”
“Iwill.”Shesqueezesmetight.“We’llfigurethisouttogether.Ipromise.”
Assleeprisesupandtakesme,Ialmostbelieveher.30
Psyche
Bythetimemorningrollsaround,Ihavesomethingresemblingabackupplan.It’snotagoodplan,andifItellittoEros,hemightlockmeintothepanicroomandthrowawaythekey.OfallthethingsIneverexpectedofthismarriage,hisprotectivenesssurprisesmethemost.It’snotjustinregardtothecurrentsituationwithhismother.He’sconstantly…takingcareofme.
It’snotanact,either.
Eroshaswhathewantsfromme,everythinghewants.We’remarried.We’rehavingsex.JudgingfromthewayClio’sstoryaboutusbrokeacrossmultiplegossipsitesthismorning,we’resuccessfullyconvincingOlympusthatoursisalovestoryfortheages.Hehasabsolutelynoreasontolietome,notinwordandnotinaction.
Whichmeanshemeantwhathesaidlastnight.Hecaresforme.I’mnotfoolishenoughtothinkthatcaringtranslatestolove,butit’smorethanIcouldhavedreamed.It’salmostenoughtogivemehope.
First,wehavetosurvivethecomingconfrontationwithAphrodite.
Myphonebuzzesonthenightstand,andIanglemyselfenoughtoreachitwithoutdislodgingEroswherehe’swrappedaroundme.He’sheldmelikethisallnight,clingingasifhethinksI’llslipoutofourbedunderthecoverofdarknessandneverreturnagain.
Consideringthat’swhatmysisterpulledwithHadeswhensherodeofftosavehimfromthelastZeus,Erosisn’ttoofaroffthemarkthere.Icouldtellhimhehasnothingtoworryaboutonthatfront;tryingtodealwithAphroditeinsecretwilljustbackfireathousandfold.Keepingthingsbelowtheradariswhatgotusintothistroubletobeginwith.It’stimetobringeverythingoutintotheopen.
Iseemysister’snamescrollingoverthescreenandswipetoanswerthecall.“Earlyforyou,Persephone.”
“Early,orlate.”Shesoundsalittlebreathless.“WhyisHadesfieldingcallsfrombothMotherandZeusthismorning?”
They’reworkingfast,whichdoesn’tmeananythinggood.IhadplannedtocallPersephonethismorningandloopherin,butapparentlyIshouldhavedoneitlastnightifIwantedajumponthings.Idon’tlikethatourmotherisalreadyupandmaneuvering.ThecallwithPoseidonmustnothavegonewell.Isigh.“There’sbeenabitoftrouble.”
“MoretroublethanyouupandmarryingEroswithoutsomuchofawordofwarning?”
“Persephone,Ithoughtwewerepastthat.”
“It’sbeenlessthanaweek.We’renotpastit.”
Irollmyeyes,bothfrustratedandcomfortedbyheroverprotectiveness.Aloneinthissituation,it’ssomethingnormalandexpected.“IfnotEros,itwouldhavebeenZeus.”
She’ssilentforalongmoment.“Tellmeshedidn’t.Notagain.”
“Motherissingle-minded.Youknowthat.ShehasherheartsetonestablishingoneofusasHera.”
Shecurses.“Okay,we’lldealwiththatlater.Rightnow,Ineedtoknowwhat’shappenedwithyou,sincethatseemstobethemoreimmediateissue.”
“Aphroditetookahitoutonme.”Itfeelsgoodtosayitaloud,almostcathartic.
“What?”
“Yes.”IfeelErostensealittle,asilentacknowledgmentthathe’sawake.“Zeuswon’tstepinunlesswehavedefinitiveproof,soweplannedtogetthesupportofHadesandPoseidonandforcehishand.EvenAphroditecan’tstandagainstthosethree.”
She’ssilentforabeat.“It’snotabadplanassuchthingsgo,butit’snotreallyagoodone,either.”
“I’maware.”
Anotherpause.“Youhavesomethinginmindforbackup.”
Mysisterknowsmesowell.Normally,I’dappreciateherinsightintowhatI’mconsidering,butI’machinglyawareofErosagainstme,listeningtoeverything.“We’resetontryingthisfirst,”Ifinallysay.It’seventhetruth.JustbecauseIdon’tthinkitwillworkdoesn’tmeanI’mcorrect.Idesperatelywanttobewrong.
“Hadeswillstandinsupportofyou.”
Thatmakesmesmile.“Youaren’tgoingtotalktohimfirst?”
“Idon’tneedto.One,he’ssittingrighthere,listeninginlikeanosyhusband.Andtwo,you’rehissister-in-lawandhelikesyou,soobviouslyhe’sgoingtodowhateverittakestoensureyoustaysafe.Right,Hades?”
Ihearadeepmurmuredassentinthebackground.Well,thattakescareofthat.Ididn’tanticipateanythingdifferent,butI’vebeensurprisedenoughinthelastweekthatIcantakenothingforgranted.“Thankyou.”
“He’llletZeusknow,butyouneedtoworkonPoseidon.Hestaysoutofthisstuff,anditwouldtakeoneratherlargeincitingincidenttogethimintothemix.”
I’malltooawareofthat.“LetMotherworryaboutthat.”We’rebothsilentforamomentaswecontemplatewhatourmothercouldpossiblyhavetoincitecooperationfromthatman.Ishudder.“Ihavetogetupandmakesomecalls.”
“Staysafe.We’rehereifyouneedus.”
Mythroatgoestight,andIhavetoswallowhardtogetthewordsout.“Loveyou.”
“Loveyoutoo.”
ItossthephoneasideandturninEros’sarmstofacehim.“Youheard.”
“Iheard.”Hecuddlesmeclose.Forsuchanicyman,Eroscertainlylikestotouchme.AlmostasmuchasIlikebeingtouchedbyhim.Herestshischinonthetopofmyhead.“Onedown,onetogo.”
Ipressakisstohischest,enjoyingthiscloseness.Itfeelslikewe’veturnedacorner.Idon’tknowwhatthefutureholdsifwecangetthroughthiscurrentmess,butastrangesortofhopetakesupresidenceinmychest.Ilovehim.Hecaresaboutme,whichseemstoindicatehecouldlovemeifgiventheopportunity.“Eros?”
“Yeah?”
It’stemptingtokeepmythoughtsinternal,butI’veneverbeengoodatcontrollingmymoutharoundthisman.Especiallywhenhisfeelingshanginthebalance.“Lastnight,yousaidyoudon’tknowhowtolove.”
Hetenses.“Idon’t.”
“You’rewrong.”
Eroshuffsoutastrainedlaugh.“IthinkwecanbothagreeI’mdamagedgoods.”
“Stopthat.”Isitup.“Stoptalkingaboutyourselflikethat.Iwouldn’tletsomeoneelsetalkaboutyousocruelly,andI’llbedamnedbeforeIletyoudoit,either.”
Theshockonhisfacehurtsmyheart.“It’sthetruth.”
“Eros,youloveHelen.”
Hemakesaface.“She’slikeasistertome.”
“Iknow.”Ipressmyhandtothecenterofhischest.“Andyouloveherlikeasister.Thatlovecounts.Onecouldargueitcountsevenmorethanromanticlovebecausethereisn’tsexinthemix,muddyingthingsup.”
Heopenshismouth,hesitates,andfinallycoversmyhandwithhis.“It’sdifficulttoarguewiththat.”
“BecauseI’mright.”Itakeadeepbreath.“Whetherornotwhatwehavegetstolove,that’snotsomethingeitherofuscancontrol.”Evenifit’stoolateformeonthatnote.“Butneverdoubtthatyou’recapableofit.”
Erosstudiesmyfaceforalongmomentandthenhisfacerelaxesinasmile.“Ireallydon’tdeserveyou.”
“Youreallydon’t.”Ilaughalittle.“Butnotforthereasonsyou’vestatedpreviously.I’mjustagemofahumanbeing.”
“Iknow.”
Themomentspinsoutbetweenus,andthosethreelittleunforgiveablewordsdanceonthetipofmytongue.Iloveyou.Ican’tsaythem.Notnow,notafterthatconversation.ItwilllooklikeI’mtryingtomanipulatehimor,worse,thatIexpecthimtosaythembackrightnow.
Desperateforadistraction,Iclearmythroat.“I’mstarving.”
ThatspringshimintomotionjustlikeIsuspecteditwould.“Let’sgetyoufed,then.”
Anhourlater,we’veeatenandshowered.We’replottingouttherestofourdaywhenmyphonerings.IholdmybreathwhenIseemymother’sname.“Hello?”
“Poseidonisout.I’msorry,Psyche.ItriedeverybitofleverageIhave,butherefusestogetinvolved.”
Disappointmenttakesthebonesrightoutofmylegs.Ibarelymanagetolandonthechairinsteadofthefloor.“Isee.”
“He’sayoungstubbornfoolandhestillthinkshecanplaythegamehiswayinsteadofsinkingdowntothedepthstherestofusoccupy.Ifyougivemesometime—”
“Thankyou,butthatwon’tbenecessary.”Timeisonethingwedon’thave.Evennow,Aphroditewillnodoubtbeorderingthenextassault.She’snotonetotakedisappointmentlightly,andfromherpointofview,I’vebestedhertwicenow.Shewon’tletithappenathirdtime.“I’lltakecareofit.”
“Psyche…”ForthefirsttimeinaslongasIcanremember,mymothersoundsunsure.“Letmehelp.”
Horriblypoisonouswordsthreatentosurgeforth.Iwouldn’tbeinthissituationifAphroditedidn’thateyousomuch.Iwouldn’tevenbeinOlympusifyourambitionweren’tsostrong.Idon’tsaythem.Ultimately,Ibearnearlyasmuchresponsibilityinthissituationastherestoftheplayers.IcouldhavebeenlikePersephoneandtriedtofindawayoutofOlympus.Thatwasnevermygoal.I’veplayedthegame,too,andnowIneedtoplayitbetterthanIeverhavebefore.
Tofailistodie.
Iinhaleslowly.“Ihavethingsundercontrol.I’llcallyoulater.”IhangupandglanceovertofindEroswatchingme.“Poseidonwon’tofferhissupport.”
“Itwasalongshot,butIhopedIwaswrong.”He’sgonestillthewayheseemstowhenhe’sthinkinghard,icecreepingintohisfeatures.“I’lltakecareofit.”
“Eros,no.”Thestrengthrushesbackintomybody,bornofpurepanic.Icrosstohimandtakehishands.“No.Youcan’thurtyourmother.”
“Idon’twantto.”Hesoundslikehe’sinpain.“Butwebothknowshewon’tstop.”Erosslowlyshakeshishead.“There’snootherway.We’rerunningoutoftime.”
Iknowthat.I’machinglyawareofthesecondstickingby.“Eros,please.”Iskatemyhandsuphischestandcuphisface.Gods,IthinkI’mgoingtocry.“Iloveyou.”Acruelmovetosayitnow,underhandedandjustasmanipulativeasIfeareditwouldbe.Idon’tcare.I’llsayworsetokeephimfromdoingthis.It’sthetruth,afterall
Ithoughthewasstillbefore;he’spracticallyfrozeninplacenow.“Sayitagain.”
“Eros,Iloveyou.”Thewordsspillsoeasilyfrommytongue.Idigmyhandsintohisgoldencurls.“Iloveyou.”
Helooksalmostagonized.“ImeantwhatIsaidearlier.Idon’tdeserveit.”
“Lovedoesn’tmuchcarewhetheryoudeserveitornot.It’snotexactlyaconditionalthing—oratleastitshouldn’tbe.”
Hecoastshishandsovermyhips.“I,inparticular,don’tdeservetobelovedbyyou.”Erosshuddersoutabreath.“ButIdon’tgiveafuck.You’vesaidit.Youcan’ttakeitback.”
Ifindmyselfsmilingeventhoughitfeelslikemyheartisbreaking.“Pleasedon’tgo.Pleasegivemetimetofindanotherway.”Toputthingsinmotionthatwillsavehimfromthis.
Hecoversmyhandswithhisownandliftsthemfromhishair.Eroskissesonepalmandthentheother.“Ipromisedtokeepyousafe.That’sexactlywhatI’mgoingtodo.”Hereleasesmeandstepsback.“GotothepanicroomandstaythereuntilIreturn.Don’topenitforanyonebutme.”
I’mlosinghim.MaybeIlosthimthemomentPoseidonremovedhimselffromtheequation.Idon’tknow,butIcanfeelErosslippingthroughmyfingerseventhoughhe’sstandingrightinfrontofme.Hemightthinkhimselfamonsterintruth,butifthatwereaccurate,hewouldn’tbeabletocareformethewayhedoes.
Ifheharmshismother,he’lllosewhatlittlethereisleftofhissoul.
Ican’tlethimdothat,notforme.“Eros,please.”
Hekissesmegently.Itfeelslikegoodbye.“Thesaferoom,Psyche.Promiseme.”
“Ipromise,”Iwhisper.It’sthefirsttimeI’veliedtohimsinceweweremarried.
Henodsandreleasesme.“Iwon’tbelong.”
Istandthere,myheartsinking,andwatchhimpullonhiscoatandshoes.Thesoundofthedooropeningisobscenelyloudinthequietofthepenthouse.Ifindmyselfcountingsoftly.“One…Two…Three…”Attwenty,Iforcemyselftomove.
Thefirststepisthehardest.I’mtakingagambleofmyownwiththis.NotonlywithmylifebutErosmightneverforgivemeforwhatI’mabouttodo.
Itdoesn’tmatter.I’llbearthatpriceandgladlyifitmeansIsparehimfromcarryingtheweightofharmingoneofthefewpeoplehecaresaboutinthisworld.
Iscrambleformyphone,nearlydroppingitinmyhaste.There’sonlyonepersonIcancalltopullthisoff,andit’sagambleofthehighestorder.Itakeadeepbreathanddial.
Whensheanswers,Helensoundslikeshe’sbeensleeping.“Hello?”
“Helen,IneedAphrodite’snumber.”
“Hi,Psyche.Sonicetotalktoyou.I’mdoinggreat,thanksforasking.”
Iswallowdownmyneedtoscream.“Helen.”Ispeakslowly.“Erosisintrouble,andIneedAphrodite’snumber.Idon’thavetimetoexplainwhy.”
She’ssilentforabeat.“Ilikeyou,Psyche,butAphroditewillskinmealiveifshefindsoutIgavehercontactinformationtoyou.AskEros.”
“Helen!”Myvoicespikesdespitemybesteffortstostaycalm.“ErosisgoingtokillAphrodite.”
“What?Hewouldn’t.Theyhaveatoxicasfuckrelationship,butshe’shismother.”
“Iknow.That’swhyIneedhernumberandneeditnow.”
Anotherpause,shorterthistime.Finally,shesays,“Ifthisisallsomeploythatwillhurthimintheend,I’llgrindyoutodust.TherewillbenothingleftofyouwhenI’mdone.”
“IfIfailwithwhatI’mabouttodo,you’remorethanwelcometotry.Thenumber,Helen.Please.”
Shecursesandrattlesoffthenumber.Ihangupwithoutsayinggoodbye.Timeisoftheessence,butIstillallowmyselfafewsecondstotakesomebreathsandgetmyheadonstraight.Ionlygetoneshotatthis;Ican’taffordtoscrewitup.
Myheartbeatisn’tanywherenearnormalasIdialAphrodite’snumber.It’sjustaswell.Shewon’tbelievemeifI’mtoocalm.She’ssmartenoughtosensethatthere’smoretothisthanitseems,soit’smyjobtoensureshe’stoofocusedonthepossibilityofgettingtometoworryaboutatrap.Oratleasttooarroganttothinkthatanytrapofminecouldholdher.
Whensheanswers,she’sascoldasice.“Aphroditespeaking.”
“I’vechangedmymind.”Idon’thavetofakethequiverinmytone.“Ididn’tsignonforallthis,andIwantout.YoucangetmeoutofOlympus,can’tyou?”
Shebarelymissesabeat.“Psyche?Howlovelytohearfromyou.I’lladmitI’msurprisedyou’vereachedout.”
Damnit,Ineedthistomovefaster.Itakealoudinhale.“Iwantout.Youwantmeout.Thisservesbothofus.”
“AndhereIthoughtyouwereinalovematchwithmyson.”Herwordsdripacid.
“Youknowbetter.”
Aphroditelaughs.“Yes,Ido.YoubitoffmorethanyoucanchewwithEros,butthat’sneitherherenorthere.Whatareyouproposing?”
“Meetmeat…Idon’tknow,thegardensintheuniversitydistrict?Ifyoucansmugglemeoutonthenextshipmentfromthedocks,you’llneverseemeagain.”Thequiverinmyvoicegetsstronger.“Ididn’tsignonforthis.Idon’twanttodie.”
“Ofcoursenot,sweetgirl.Noonewantstodie.”She’ssilentassheseemstoconsiderthis.“Iwasundertheimpressionthatyouhadnoplanstoleavethecity.”
“It’snotexactlyeasytoleaveOlympus,”Isnap.
“Mm-hmm,that’strueenough.”Anotherpause.“I’llgetyouout.Meetmeinthegardenstonight.”
“No!”IrealizeIwastooloudandsilentlycursemyself.“Eroswentouttorunanerrand.Ithastobenow.IfIdon’tleavebeforehegetsback,he’llkeepmehere.”
Aphroditesighs.“Yes,mysonisrathertenaciouswhenhe’sgothismindsetonsomething.IsupposeIcanshiftmyplansfortheday.I’llmeetyouinthegardensinanhour.”
Barelylongenoughformetogettherewithtimetospare.I’malreadymovingtothedoorandyankingonmycoat.“Okay.Thankyou,Aphrodite.”
Icanheartheevilsmileinhervoice.“Notaproblem,dear.Motherknowsbest,afterall.”31
Eros
I’mnotsurewhatsomeoneissupposedtofeelwhenthey’reontheirwaytothreatenandpossiblykilltheirownmother.Ifeelnothingatall.Instead,IkeepgettingflashesofmemoriesIthoughtlongburied.
Ateight,findingmymothercryingonthecouch.Howshesobbedandtoldmetheentirecitywasouttogether.IpromisedherthatIwouldalwaysprotecther.
Atthirteen,beingabletoperfectlydetailallofmymother’senemies,theonesshetoldmewantedherdead.Iparrotedtheirpersonaldetailsandsupposedsinsbacktoher,andshesmiledatmeasifIwasherfavoritepersonintheworld.
Atseventeen,whenmymotheraskedmetodoherafavor,justatinylittlething.ItwassogodsdamneasytoasktherightquestionsthatledtothetruthaboutApolloandDaphne.Andthensheshoweredherattentiononmelikethesummersun.
Ateighteen,thefirsttimeItoldherIwouldn’tdowhatsheasked.Howquicklyshewithdrewherattention,herverypresence,fromme.Howruthlesslyshepunishedmebywithholdingherselffordays,weeks,untilIfinallybuckledanddidassheasked.Mymothermightbeamonster,butshe’stheonlyfamilyIhave.Iwasn’tstrongenoughtowithstandhericingmeout.Ihadnooneelse.
Attwenty-one,whenIrealizedthelessonIshouldhaveyearsearlier:shedoesn’treallyloveme.Idoubtshe’sactuallycapableofit.Sheseesmeasaconvenienttooltopickupandsetdownasthesituationcallsforit.Allthesoftmoments,thetears,thehurtfeelings,theywereallweaponsshewieldedagainstme.Understandingthatkilledsomethinginme,somethingIdidn’tthinkI’deverreclaim,notuntilImetPsyche.
Afterthat,AphroditeresortedtostrongermeasurestobringmebackinlinewheneverIpushedbackagainsther.
Evenwithalltheyearsofloveandresentmentthatslidrightintohate,thetruthisthatshe’sbeentheoneconstantinmylife.Foilorguidinglight,she’salwaysbeenthere.Itneverreallyoccurredtomethatonedayshewouldn’tbe.
Thatonedayminewouldbethehandthatbroughtherdemise.
Ittakesmefortyminutestomakeittoherbuilding.ThoughmymotherspendsmostofhertimeintheareaaroundDodonaTower,sheactuallylivesintheoutskirtsofthetheaterdistrict.I’veneverbeenabletofigureoutifsheactuallylikesthetheaterorifshejustlikesbeingapatronandmusetoperformers.Eitherway,itwasherdraggingmeouttoshowsthateventuallyledtomefindingtheBacchae.
ShelivesinatownhouseratherthanoneofthemanyskyscrapersthatlitterOlympus.Itevenhasasmall,fencedyard,andthat’showIentertheproperty,lettingmyselfinthroughthegatethatbordersthebackalley.Thereshouldbesecuritypeoplewatchingoverthespace—atmyinsistence—butitseemsshe’sdismissedthemagain.Shehateshavinganentourageofarmedpeople,andsosheslipsthemoffeverychanceshegets.Itusedtofrustratemetounspeakablelevels.
Now,itworksinmyfavor.
Ipauseintheyard.Inthespring,it’sanexplosionofcolorandflowers,allperfectlycuratedandpicture-ready.Ineverunderstoodthat.Aphroditeentertainsendlessly,butsherarelydoesitinherhome.Shebarelypostspicturesofthisspace,either.It’salmostasifallthisbeautyisjustforher,butIcan’tthinkaboutthatnow.
Iusemykeytounlockthebackdoorandslipinsidewithoutannouncingmyself.It’sSunday,sosheshouldbehome.Aphroditeascribestonochurch,andshelikeslazySundayswhereshe’snotondisplaytothepublic.
Exceptthehousefeelsstrangelyempty.
Iwanderfromroomtoroom,hatingthecascadeofmemorieseachonebrings.Thiswasmychildhoodhome,andifthatchildhoodwasoftendevoidofsoftnessandsafety,itwasn’tallbad.Ipauseinthedoorwaytomyoldroom.It’sarelicfromthepast,exactlythewayIleftitwhenImovedoutateighteen,desperatetoputsomespacebetweenmyselfandmymother.Aking-sizedbed,ridiculouslyhigh-thread-countsheets,exactlyonepillowoccupyingthegreatexpanseofmattress.
Despitemyself,Istepintotheroomandlookaround.Therearenopostersonthewalls,butIdohavetwoframedpaintingsthatmymothergiftedmeduringaparticularlyangstystage.Theirartist’smonikerisDeath,whichfeltparticularlyaptatthetime,andtheyshowclose-upsofbatteredhandsdrenchedincolor,givingtheimpressionofviolencejustcommitted.
Mydeskholdsascatteringofpapersandpicturesandrandombullshitthatteenagersaccumulate.NotesfromHelen.OldschoolassignmentsthatInevergotaroundtotossing.Notebooksfilledwithcommentsandinsightgainedduringmyfirstfledglingattemptsatsurveillance.
Iopenmyclosetandeyethegunsafetuckedwithin.That’ssomethingI’dwagermostteenagersdon’taccumulate.Icrouchdownandkeyinthecombinationmorethroughforceofhabitthananythingelse.WhileIkeepvariousweaponsandpoisonsinmypenthouse,usingthestashAphroditekeepsunderherroofisbetterforthisscenario.Mymotherwon’tfeelathing;she’lljustgetsleepyandthenknownothingatall.
Ican’tthinkaboutthefactthatit’sthesamepoisonIintendedtouseonPsyche.
TherearealotofthingsIcan’tthinkaboutrightnow.
Iopenthesafeandfrown.“Whatthefuck?”
Oneofthegunsismissing.Ihovermyhandovertheemptyspace.ItwasheretwoweeksagowhenAphroditerequiredmypresencefordinner.Wherethefuckisitnow?
Thesmallhairsonthebackofmyneckstandonend.Something’sverywrong.I’veletmyemotionsgetthebestofme,andthey’vecloudedtheonethingIshouldbethinkingabout.Or,rather,thequestionIshouldbeasking.
WherethefuckisAphrodite?
MyphonebuzzesinmypocketasIpushtomyfeet.Ifishitout,seeHelen’sname,andrejectthecall.I’lltalktoherlater.ExceptmyphonestartsvibratingbeforeIcanputitbackinmypocket.Helenagain.Ifrownandanswer.“I’mbusy.”
“Eros,IthinkPsycheisintrouble.Ormaybeyourmotheris.I’mhonestlynotreallysure,butsomething’sgoingonandyouneedtoknowaboutit.”
Thefeelingofdreadweighingmedownonlygetsworse.“Slowdownandexplainproperly.”
Shetakesalargebreathasifshe’sbeenrunning.“Likeanhourago,PsychecalledmeandsaidsheneededAphrodite’snumbertokeepyoufromdoingsomethingyoucouldn’ttakeback.Which…Ithoughtshewasgoingto…Gods,Idon’tevenknowwhatIthought,butMuseWatchjustreportedseeingPsycheintheuniversitygardensinonepostandAphroditedrivingtowardtheuniversitydistrict,lookingdressedtokill.I’msosorryItooksolongtoputtwoandtwotogether,butIthinkthey’remeeting,probablysoon.”
Shewouldn’t.
Except,asIpicturethedeterminedlookonmywife’sface,Irealizeshemostdefinitelywould.“Yougavemymother’sphonenumbertoPsyche.”
“Ididn’tknowwhatelsetodo.Yourmomisabitch,butshe’syourmom.Youcan’t…Ican’tsitbyandletsomethinghappentoher.You’llregretitfortherestofyourlife.”BecauseHelen’smotherisdead,andthere’snocomingbackfromthat.“IthoughtPsychehadaplan,butIdidn’trealizetheplanwouldbeconfrontingAphroditedirectly.”
“There’snowayyoucouldhaveknown.”
“IsthereanythingIcandotohelp?”
Ibitebackthesharpretortthatshe’sdoneenough.It’snotHelen’sfaultPsycheandIareinthismess.Shejustdidwhatshethoughtwasbest,andIcan’tblameherforthat.“KeepaneyeonMuseWatchandletmeknowifthereareanyupdates.”
“Iwill.”Shehesitates.“Eros,Ireallyamsorry.”
“Iknow.”Ihangup,thinkinghard.
IfPsychewasseenattheuniversitygardensandmymotherisheadinginthatdirection,that’swherethey’llmeet.I’llhaveonechancetocontrolthissituation,andbringinginmorepeopleaddstoomanyuncontrollableelements.Iconsidermyoptions.IfIdrive,therearegoingtobeaddedminutestryingtofindaparkingspot,anditwilltaketimeIcan’tafford.
Idraginabreath.Nodoubtmymotherisdriving.Sheneverwouldhavewalkedtherefromherhouse.Thatgivesmetime.
Istarttorun.
Asmypoundingstrideseatuptheblocksbetweenmeandthegardens,Ican’thelpthefranticcirclingofmythoughts.WhywouldPsychedothis?Whywouldsheriskthis?
Except…Iknowwhy,don’tI?
Lovemakesfoolsofusall.Ineverrealizedthatwouldbesoliteral.We’rebothsointentonsavingeachotherfrompainandharm,we’rethrowingourselvesrightintothoseverythings.Psycheiscunningandsointelligentitdrivesmeupthewalls,butmymotherisadifferentbreedentirely.Andshehasagun.Ineverwouldhavethoughtshe’dgosofarastodirtyherownhands,butPsychehasoutmaneuveredherateveryturn.Whencornered,Aphroditewon’thesitatetostrikeout.
TostrikePsyche.
Ican’tloseher.Ijustfuckingfoundher.
I’mpantingandsweatingbythetimeIreachthegardens.WherewillPsychehavegone?Ifranticallythinkbacktowhenwewalkedthem.Wasthatjustafewdaysago?Itfeelslikealifetime.Wewalkeddeepenoughdownthepathsthatwecouldn’tbeseenfromthestreet,towhatshesaidwasherfavoritepartofthegarden.Ibetthat’swhereshe’sat.
MybodyachesasIpickupmypace.Myshoesweren’tmeantforrunning,butIbarelyfeelthepain.EspeciallywhenIroundacornerandfindPsychefacingoffwithmymother.Aphroditehasmygunheldintwohands,herstanceshittybutit’snotlikeshecanmissatthatrange.Mywifeisallbutcoweringagainstthosefuckingtwigsshetoldmeareflowers.
Iforcemyselftostop,toslowdowntoavoidsurprisingmymotherintopullingthetrigger,andliftmyhands.“That’senough,Mother.”
Shedoesn’tlookatme.“Turnaround,Eros.Ihavethisperfectlyundercontrol.”Hervoiceissoperfectlycontrolled,shemighthavebeencommentingontheweather.
“Ican’tletyoudothis.”Ican’tthink,don’tknowhowtoplaythistoensuresheputsdownthegunwithoutpullingthetrigger.AllIhaveispanic,andpanicwillgetPsychekilled.Iinchcloser.“Gohome,Psyche.I’lldealwiththis.”
“Shehasagun!”Hervoiceshakesandshe’shalf-crouched,herarmsliftedasifthatwouldbeenoughtostopabullet.She’spanicking,too,andthere’snotadamnthingIcandoaboutit.“She’sgoingtokillme!”
“Shewon’tkillyou.Iwon’tlether.”IdesperatelyhopeI’mnotlying.
Itakeanotherslowstepforward,butAphroditeshakesherhead.“NocloserorIpullthetrigger.”
Thatstopsmeshort,myheartlungingintothebackofmythroat.Ihavetofindtherightwordstosay,butmybrainispurestatic.I’mnotcloseenoughtolungeforthegun,though,soIhavetotry.“You’driskZeus’sfuryforthis?”
“I’ddothatandmore.”Shedoesn’ttakehergazefromPsyche.“ButI’mnottheonekillingDemeter’sdaughter,Eros.Youare.”
UnderstandingdawnsasItakeherin.TheoldcoatthatIhaven’tseenonherinyears.Theleatherglovesthatwillremoveanytraceofgunresidueifshefires—andherfingerprints.Whichmeanstheonlyfingerprintsonthegunregisteredtomearemine.
Fear,truefear,coatsmeinice.She’sreallygoingtodoit.She’snotbluffing.“WhywouldIshootmywife?Iloveher.”
“Don’tlietome.”Herprettyfacetwistsintosomethinghorrible.“Youdon’tlovethislittlebitch.You’renotcapableoflove.Shewassupposedtobedead,Eros.Herheartonafuckingplatter.Whatthefuckiswrongwithyouthatyouwouldmarryher?”
Psycheisn’tcrying,butshelooksdamnclose.“Whywouldyouwanttokillme?I’veneverdoneanythingtoyou!”She’sshakingsohard,shehastoclutchherhandsinfrontofherchest.
Aphroditeturnsherbodyalittletokeepmeinherlineofsightassheglaresdownatmywife.“Yourmother’sdoneplenty.Sheneedstobetakendownafewnotches.Shedoesn’tgettopickthenextHera.Ido.”
Psychesniffles.“Butthathasnothingtodowithme.”
“Ithaseverythingtodowithyou.”Sheleansdown,sneering.“Demeterreallythinksthatyou’regoodenoughtobemarriedtoZeus.Lookatyou.You’renothingbutafatgirlplayingpretend.”
“Ididn’taskforthis!”
“Wakeup,littlegirl.NooneaskedforitinOlympus.”Shelaughs,thesoundwildandunhinged.“Youdon’tgettoswimwithsharksandthencryaboutgettingeaten.Youtriedtoplaythegameandyoulost.”Sheshiftsherstance,liftingthegunaninch.“Nowyou’regoingtopaytheprice.”
“That’senough.”Istartforward,butshestopsmewithherfingeronthetrigger.Ifshewerepointingitatme,Iwouldn’thesitate.I’dtakemychances.ButIwillnotriskPsyche’slife.“Youdon’tgettotalktoherlikethat.Youdon’tgettoattackherbecauseshe’sbetterthanyou,prettierthanyou,bothinsideandout.Putthefuckinggundown,Mother.”
“We’redonetalking!”
Psychesighs.“Yes,Isupposeweare.I’vegotmorethanenough.SohastherestofOlympus.”Allthequiverisgonefromhervoice,herfeartuckedawayasifitneverexisted,leavingonlycoldcalmandsteelydeterminationinitsplace.Shereachesintotheflowerbedandextractsaphonefromthespacebehindher.Sheholdsituptoherface,andjustforamoment,thecalmflickersandshegivesatremblingsmile.“So,yousee,everythingisnotokay.It’snotokayatall.Aphroditewantstokillmeandframemyhusband.”
Aphrodite’sjawdrops.“You’relivestreamingus.”
“Onehundredthousandviewersandcounting.Beforetheendoftheday,allofOlympuswillhaveheardyouconfesstotryingtokillme.”Psyche’stremblingsmilegoessharp.“Sharksaren’ttheonlypredatorsintheocean,Aphrodite.”
Holyfuck.Holyfuck.Therewillbenosweepingthisundertherug,nopretendingitneverhappened.She’sjustpavedthewayforabloodlesschangingofpowerwiththetitleAphrodite;there’snowaymymotherwillretaintheroleafterthis.Reliefmakesmegiddy.“It’sover.There’snocomingbackfromthis.It’sfinallyover.”
“It’snotoveruntilIsayit’sover!”AphroditeturnsfullytofacePsyche,herexpressiongoinguglyandhateful.“IfIgodown,you’regoingdownwithme!”
“No!”Isprintforward,movingfasterthanIeverhave.EvenasIdo,IknowIwon’tbefastenough.There’stoomuchdistancebetweenmeandAphrodite,toolittledistancebetweenherfingerandthetrigger.
Idon’tcountonPsyche.
Shesurgesup,grabbingAphrodite’swristsandshovingthemuptowardtheskyasthegungoesoff.Shestompsonmymother’sfootandyanksthegunfromherhands,flingingitintheoppositedirection.Aphroditecurses,butPsycheshoveshertotheground.Thewholethingtooktwoseconds.
IgrabPsycheandpullherintomyarms.Iknowshedidn’tgetshot,butIcan’thelpsearchingherbodyforwoundsdespitethat.“Areyouhurt?”
“I’mfine.I’msafe.We’rebothsafe.”
“Thankfuck.”Ipointdownatmymother,currentlytryingtositup.“Donotmove.”
Inthedistance,sirenssound.Psychepressesherforeheadtomychestforalongmomentandthenmovesaway.“Now,it’stimeforthefinalact.”32
Psyche
Thingshappenquicklyafterthat.Ares’speoplearrive.HalfofthemcartAphroditeoffinablackvan;theotherhalfactasourescorttoDodonaTowertofaceZeus.Good.Ihavesomechoicewordstosaytohim.
Erossitsnexttomeinthebackofthecar.Hehasn’tsaidawordsinceAres’speopleshowedup.He’sstayedclosetome,butIcan’treadtheexpressiononhisface.He’sicedmeout.Iopenmymouthbutdecideagainstspeakingbeforeanywordsescape.Wearen’talone,andthisneedstoplayoutbeforewecanhaveanythingresemblinganhonestconversation.
Idon’tknowifhe’llforgivemeforlyingtohisfaceandgoingbehindhisback.
WereachDodonaTowerandareescorteduptoZeus’soffice.He’swaitingforusinnearlytheexactsamepositionhewasduringourlastmeeting.Heglancesupaswewalkthroughthedoors,hisgazelandingonthesoldiersbehindus.“Leaveus.”
Theyobeyinstantly.I’veneverhadmuchdesiretohavepowerforthesakeofpower,buthisabilitytostatecommandsandhavepeopleleaptoobeyissomethingthatwouldbeuseful.Especiallyrightnow.
Zeusrubshistemples.Foramoment,healmostlookstired,butitpassesandthenhe’stheimplacablecoldmanhe’salwaysbeeninmypresence.“WhenIsaidIneededevidence,Ididn’tmeanIwantedyoutostreamthatevidencetohalfofOlympus.”
“TheentiretyofOlympuswillhaveseenitbydinnertime.”Iclaspmyhandsinfrontofme,hopinghedoesn’tnoticethewaytheyshake.“EspeciallyonceMuseWatchpicksitup,whichwebothknowtheywill.AhomicidalAphroditemakesforjuicyheadlines.”
“She’llbeexiled.”Hesitsback,blueeyescold.“Butthen,that’swhatyouwanted,isn’tit?”
It’sexactlywhatIwanted.KillingAphrodite,whethersanctionedexecutionorno,willhurtEros.He’sshoulderedenoughhurtforalifetime.IknowIcan’tshieldhimfromitforever,butIcandothis.“Yes,that’swhatIwanted.”
ZeusshiftshisattentiontoEros.“Andyou.Thereareplentyofcrimestolayatyourfeet.Ishouldexileyouaswell.It’snotonlytheThirteenwhowillpaythepriceforbreakingoneofourmostsacredlaws;it’salsoanyonetheyloopintotheplot.”
“No!”IcryoutbeforeIcanstopmyself.
Zeusshakeshisheadslowly.“Iwouldhavedoneit.However,thesituationhaschanged.”
Theshiftistoounexpected.Istareathimblankly.WhatcouldhavepossiblychangedthatsavesErosfrompunishment?“Becauseitwaslivestreamed?”
“No.”Hegivesmealonglook.“Becauseyou’refamilynow,andunfortunately,thatallowsyou—andyourhusband—someleniency.Assuch,Iwillnotbepursuinganysortofchargesagainsteitherofyou.However,thisisyouroneandonlywarning.Ifyoucontinuetoplotandschemeandmakemylifedifficult,Iwillmakeexamplesofbothofyou.”
Family?Ifrown.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Heleansforwardandpressesabuttononhisphone.“Sendherin.”
Behindme,thedooropensandfamiliarfootstepssound.Horrorkeepsmyfeetplantedinplace,butitdoesn’tsavemefromthetruthasmyoldestsisterroundsmeandErosandmovestostandatZeus’sshoulder.Callistoiswearingablackdress,thesheersimplicityofthecutonlyservingtohighlightherstarkbeauty.Shedoesn’ttouchZeus,standingacarefulfootaway,butthere’snodenyingwhat’shappened.
It’swrittenthereonthegiantdiamondonherringfinger.
“No,”Iwhisper.
Forhispart,Zeusdoesn’tseemoverlysmug.Hejustlooksboredwiththisconversation.“Theengagementwillbeannouncedinafewdays.Theweddingwillbethisspring.Undernocircumstancesareyoutodoanythingtoendangerthat,orIwillexileeverymemberofyourfamily.”HisgazeflickstoEros.“Aswellasyourhusband.”
“But—”IchokebackmyprotestwhenCallistoshakesherheadveryslightly.Whenshesaidshe’dtakecareofit,Iwasafraidshe’dtrytomurderZeusorsomethingequallyviolent.Ididn’tthinkshe’dagreetomarryhim.Herwordsfromyesterdaycomebacktome.
YouandPersephonehavebeentakingcareofuslongenough.I’llhandlethis.
Ihavetorespectherchoice;evenifIdon’tunderstandit,IknowCallistotoowelltobelieveanyoneforcedherintothisdecision,notifshedidn’twanttodothis.
Iclearmythroat.“Welcometothefamily,Zeus.”
“Better,butIexpectsmilesandhappywordswhenweofficiallyannouncetheengagement.Youwillbenothinglessthaneffusiveandsupportive.”Helooksoutthewindowforalongmomentandthenbackatus.“Thatconcludesthings.Youwon’tbeallowedcontactwithAphroditeuntilshe’sremovedfromthecity.TherewillbeapressconferenceinthemorningthatIdonotwantyoutoattend.”
“You’regoingtospinthestory.”
“OfcourseI’mgoingtospinthestory.”Heshakeshishead.“Gohome.Staythere.Keepmakinghearteyesateachotherforatleastamonth.Idon’tcarewhatyoudoafterthat,butyouwillkeeptothistimelinetoavoidpeopleaskinguncomfortablequestions.Doyouunderstandme?”
“Yes,”Iwhisper.
ZeusturnsthatcoldgazeonEros.“Andyou?”
“Loudandclear.”
“Good.Nowgetoutofmyoffice.”
Idon’tknowifI’dhavearguedfurther.Erosdoesn’tgivemeachance.Heturnstomeand,withahandatthesmallofmyback,guidesmeoutoftheroom.It’sasmalltouchbutnolessdominantforit.Wedon’tspeakastheelevatorgoestothegroundfloor.Onlythendoeshehesitate.“Areyouupforthewalktoourplace?”
Ourplace.
Hesaysitsofreely,withouthesitationorstumbling.Asifthepenthouseisreallybothofours,ratherthanjusthis.Asifthismarriagewasanythingbutacon.Amonth.Amonthisallwehaveleft.Afterthat,we’llhavenoreasontostaymarried.Noreasonexceptforthelovethat’sthreateningtoripaholeinmychest.
Erostoldhismotherhelovedme.Hetoldmehecaredaboutme.Butwe’vebothspentsolongpretendingforotherpeople,Idon’tknowwhat’srealandwhat’snotanymore.
“Icanwalk.”
“Okay.”Heloopshisarmthroughmineandturnsusinthedirectionofhisbuilding.
Ittakeshalfablockformyfeelingstogetthebestofme.“Eros—”
“Nothere.”
Right.Notoutonthestreetwhereanyonecanoverhear.IshouldbesmilingupathimlikethenewlywedIam,butIcan’tmanageit.
AslongasI’mmoving,I’mokay,butthesecondwegetbackintoEros’spenthouseandheclosesthedoorbehindme,mykneesgiveout.
HecatchesmebeforeIhitthefloor.Ofcoursehedoes.Erosscoopsmeupandtakesmeintothebedroomthat’sbecomeours.Onlythendoeshesitmeonthebedandcrouchbeforeme.Theiceisstillpresentinhiseyes,butthewayheholdsmyhandsissoftandsweet.“Breathe,Psyche.”
“Iambreathing.”Exceptmyvoiceistoohighandthready.AndIcan’tstopshaking.“What’swrongwithme?”
“Adrenalineletdown.”Herubsmyhandsgently.“Itwillpass.”
Ofcoursehewouldknow.He’sbeenindangeroussituationsoverandoveragain.I’veonlydoneittwice,andthefeelingbubblingupinsidemeaftertheassassinationattemptintheparkinglotwasnothingcomparedtothis.
Mythroatistootight,butIhavetogetthewordsout.“I’msorry.”
Hefrowns.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“I’msorry.YoutoldmetostayhereandIcouldn’t.Icouldn’tletyoubeartheburdenofhurtingher.She’syourmother.”
“She’samonster.”
“Thatdoesn’tmeanyoudon’tloveher.”
Hesighsandmovestojoinmeonthebed.“No,thatdoesn’tmeanIdon’tloveher,ifyoucancallitthat.I…”Hecurses.“I’mfuckingfuriouswithyou.Youputyourselfindanger.Youdidn’tfuckingtalktome.IthoughtIwasgoingtoshowupandfindyoudead.Ican’t…Psyche,Idon’tcarewhatburdensIhavetobear;they’remorethanworthitifyou’resafe.”
Ireachouttentativelyandsinkmyfingersintohiscurls.“Ihadthingsundercontrol.”
“Inhindsight,I’mawareofthat,butthereweresomanyvariables.”Heshakeshishead,themovetuggingonmyholdalittle.“Youwerefakingit,weren’tyou?Beingthatscared.”
IshuddertothinkbacktothemomentIwascrouchingontheground,staringdownthebarrelofagun.“Onlypartly.”Iswallowhard.“Sheneededtothinkshe’dwon.She’stoovainnottosayalltheuglystuffoutloud,andIneededthatonthevideo.”
Erosstaresatme.“You’reterrifying.Doyouknowthat?Absolutelyterrifying.”
“Ican’ttellifthat’sacomplimentornot.”
“NeithercanI.”Heleansdownandpresseshisforeheadtomine,agroundingtouchthateasessomeofthetensioninmychest.“So.Amonthleft.”
Justlikethat,it’sback.“That’swhatZeussaid.Iexpecthedoesn’twantanythingtodetractfromthenarrativehe’sgoingtospin,andonceheannouncestheengagementwithCallisto—”Ibreakoff.“Ican’tbelieveshedidthis.”
“Really?Ican.”Hecarefullyextractsmyhandsfromhishairandlinkshisfingersthroughmine.“YoursisterisgoingtobeHera.”
“Itseemsthatway.”Icanbarelycomprehendwhatthatwilllooklike.ThelastZeuswentthroughthreeHerasoverhistimewiththetitle.Rumoristhathekilledatleasttwoofthem,butnochargeswereeverleveledathim.Asaresult,thetitleofHerahasbecomesomethingofanemptyone.IttechnicallystillhasdutiesandanareatorulelikealltheotherThirteen,butthelastthreepeopletoholditwereovershadowedbyZeus.Idon’tknowwhatmysisterwilldowiththetitle,butIcanguaranteeshewon’tbetheeasy,biddablewifethatthisZeusisnodoubthopingfor.
ButIdon’twanttotalkaboutCallisto.
Itakeaslowbreathandstareatourlinkedhands.“Somuchofthishasbeenpretend.Fromtheverystart,we’vebeenlyingtothepublic.”
“I’llgiveyouadivorce.”
Thatstopsmeshort.Iliftmyheadandblinkathim.“What?”
“Adivorce.”ThewinternightoutsidethewindowiswarmerthanEros’svoice.“Youmarriedmetokeepsafefrommymother.She’snolongerathreat,andIknowthisisn’twhatyouwouldhavechosenforyourself.Whenthemonthisup,I’llgetthedivorcepaperswrittenup.Youcanhavewhateveryouwant.You’vemorethanearnedit.”
IhavetotakemyhandsbackfromhimtoavoiddoingsomethingI’llregret.“Eros.”
“Yeah?”
“Willyouletmefinishbeforeyousprinttoleaponyourownswordtosavemefrombig,badyou?”
Nowit’shisturntoblink.“I’masmuchamonsterasmymother.That’sempiricalfact.”
“Didyoumeanwhatyousaidtoyourmother?Doyouloveme?”
“Idon’tseehowthatmatters.”
Gods,thisman.Igrabhisfaceandbringitdowntomine,nearlycloseenoughtokiss.“Answerthequestion.”
Hishuffedbreathghostsagainstmylips.“Yes,Imeantit.Iloveyou.Butthat’snotagoodenoughreasontokeepyouchainedtome.I’maselfishbastardandIthoughtIcoulddoit,butIcan’tbearthethoughtofyoutrapped.Notevenbyme.”
Iclosemyeyes.It’sthatorstartcryingalloverhim,whichhe’llmisinterpret.“Youmightbeamonster,Eros,butyou’remymonster.Iloveyou,too.Idon’twantagodsdamneddivorce.Ijustwantyou.”
He’ssilentforsolong,Iopenmyeyestofindhimstaringatme.Hereachesupandcupsmyjawwithahandthattrembles.“Ifyou’reserious—”
“I’mserious.”
“Besure,Psyche.Ifyoureallymeanit,besure.Ican’t…Idon’thavethestrengthtoletyougotwice.”
Iturnmyheadandkisshispalm.“Youdon’thavetoletmegoatall.”
“Thankfuck.”Heyanksmeintohisarmsandholdsmetightly.Thesametremorsthatshookhishandworktheirwaythroughhisentirebody.
Ikisshisthroat,hisjaw,thecornerofhismouth.“I’mhere.I’llalwaysbehere.”AndthenI’mkissinghimproperly.Hehugsmetighter,asifhecan’tgetcloseenoughtome,andIfeelthesameway.Thingscouldhavegonesowrongtoday.Theydidn’t,butthatdoesn’tchangethewayIneedthisman.Rightnow.Tonight.Forever.Ibreakthekisslongenoughtosay,“Eros.”
He’salreadymoving,pushingtohisfeetandyankingoffhisclothes.“Ineedyou.”
“Yes.”Ilethimpullmydressovermyheadandtossitaside.Thenhe’sthere,bearingmebackontothemattress,hishandsmovingovermybodyasiftoreassurehimselfthatI’mwhole,thatI’mhere.Ipushonhisshoulders,andheletsmerollhimontohisbackandclimbuptostraddlehiswaist.
Gods,thewaythismanlooksatme.
Hegripsmyhips,devouringmewiththosefieryblueeyes.“You’reenoughtomakemewanttogetintophotography.”
Thatsurprisesalaughoutme.“Eros,surelyyou’renotsuggestingtakingdirtypicturesofme.”
“That’sexactlywhatI’msuggesting.”Hecupsmybreastsandleansuptolavishkissesoverthem.“Justforus.Onlyeverjustforus.”
Itstrikesmealloveragainthatwehavetime.Wecanactouteveryfantasy,exploreeverynuanceofthethingthat’sflaredtolifebetweenus.Irollmyhips,rubbingmyselfalonghislength.“Onecondition.”
“Nameit.”
Igrindownathim,sohappyIfeeldownrightbuoyant.“Takemeinfrontofeverymirrorinthishouse,Husband.Let’sputthemtogooduse.”
Hepullsmedownintoadevastatingkiss.“Thatwilltakeyears,Wife.”
“Good.”
Hesmilesagainstmylips.“That’smygirl.”Erosreachesbetweenus,andIliftmyhipssohecannotchhiscockatmyentrance.IkeepkissinghimasIworkmyselfdownhislength,guidedalongbyhishandsonmyhips.
It’sonlywhenhe’sseatedfullyinsidemethatIsitupandbracemyhandsonhischest.“Iloveyou.”
Hissmileiswideandhappyandfreeofanyshadows.“Sayitagain.”
Iridehimslowly,reassuringbothofuswithtouchandpleasurethatthisisreal,thatit’snotgoinganywhere.“Iloveyou.”
Erosslidesahanddowntopresstomyclit,sothateverystrokewindsmypleasuretighter,hotter.“Again,Wife.”
“Again?Really?”Imoanandpickupthepace.
“I’llnevergettiredofhearingyousayit.”Hetightenshisgriponmyhip,urgingmetomovealittlefaster,chasingtheorgasmIcanalreadyfeelbuildingdeepinsideme.“Iloveyou,too.Psyche.Sofuckingmuch.”
Betweenhiswordsandhistouch,I’mlost.Myorgasmcrashesthroughme,drawingacryfrommylips.“Iloveyou!”
Erostopplesmetothebedandthenhe’sthrustingintome,harderandfaster,hisexpressionamaskofneedandlove.Hewrapshisarmsaroundme,holdingmetohimashegrindsintome,chasinghispleasure.Idigmynailsintohisasstopullhimcloser,needingthismomentofconnectionasmuchashedoes.Whenhecomes,heburieshisfaceinmyneck.
Hegoestoslideoffme,butI’mhavingnoneofit.Iwrapmylegsaroundhiswaistandholdhimclose.“Notyet.I’mnotreadytoletyougoyet.”
“Youneverhavetoletmego.”Hepressesakisstomyneckandleverageshimselfupsohecanlookdownatme.Erosgivesmeacrookedsmile.“Lookatus.BeautyandherBeast.Happilyeverafterandeverything.Maybefairytalesdoexist.”
“You’remuchprettierthantheBeasteverwas.”
Hegivesaroughlaugh.“Andyetmuchmoreofabeastthanhecouldeverbe.”
“Idon’tcare.Beast,monster,man,itdoesn’tmattertome.You’remine,ErosAmbrosia.”Itiltmyheadupandbrushakissoverhislips.“AndI’myours.”Epilogue
Eros
“Areyouready?”
“Almost.”Ifinishbuttoningupmyshirtandcheckmyappearanceinthereflection.Ilookfine.Betterthanfine.Thisisanewsuit,oneofJuliette’sdesigns,andthefitissodamnsuperior,Iseewhyshechargeswhatshedoes.Thedeeppurpleshouldberidiculous,butitlooksgreat.Onewouldn’tknowbylookingatmethatmystomachisamessofnerves.
Psycheleansagainstthedoorway.She’saspicture-readyasalways,wearingabrightfloraltopwithadeep-pinkskirtthatbellsouttostopjustbelowherknees.“Stopstallingorwe’regoingtobelate.”
“Wecouldalwaysskipit.”Istalktowardher.“Icouldstripyououtofthatcuteskirtthingandlosetrackoftime.”
“Eros.”Shesmiles,thoughherhazeleyesareserious.“Youhavenothingtobenervousabout.It’sjustdinneratmymother’s.”
“It’sSundaydinneratyourmother’s,withyourentirefamily.”It’salsothefirstonewe’vemanagedtomakeinthemonthsinceAphroditewasexiled.AsZeusfeared,mymothercreatedmorethanenoughtroubleonherwayout.ShenamedErisasherheir,whichsenttheentireuppercityintowaveafterwaveofwhispers.Ihadn’tevenrealizedEriswasworkingbeneathAphrodite,thoughapparentlyshe’dbeendoingitforyears.HerappointmentmeanstwooftheThirteenarefromtheKasiosfamily,whichhaseveryonespeculatingonhowthatwillaffectthepowerbalancegoingforward.
Eris,ofcourse,hasn’tseenfittoreassureanyone.Isuspectshe’sthrivingoffthechaos.
DemeterhasbeenbusyputtingoutpoliticalfiresandcirclingthenewAphroditewarily,tryingtofigureoutwheretheystand.AndnowAresissick,andit’snotlookinglikehe’llrecover…
Yeah,shithasbeenfuckedupinOlympus.
Ironicthatit’sbeenthehappiestmonthofmylife.
AsIfollowPsycheoutofourroomandintothekitchentograbthewineIboughttobringtodinner,evidenceofthathappinessiseverywhereIlook.ThekeybowlPsycheboughtatthewintermarketinthelowercitywithitsjauntycolorschemeofpink,yellow,andteal.Thematchingpersonalizedglasses—atumblerforherandawineglassforme—onthedryingrack,thestylizedscriptetchedintoitreadingHersandHis.Shehasentirelytoomuchfuntakingphotographsofusdrinkingfromthoseforhersocialmedia.
Thediningroomtablealwayshasfreshflowersonit,andtheyalwaysseemtomatchwhateverPsycheiswearingwhenshebuysthem.EventhoughIteaseheraboutbeingvain,Iloveit.Itfeelslikesheleavesalittlepieceofherinthepenthousewhenshe’sout.
Everyroomhaslittlethingsadded.Extrapillowsinourbedroom.Aknitthrowblanketinthelivingroom,alongwithastackofbooksthat,judgingfromtheirbrokenspines,she’srereadmanytimes.
Istopinfrontofmyfavoriteaddition.Psycherollshereyes,butshe’sfullygrinningnow.“Everytime!”
“Welookgood.It’sashamenottoappreciateit.”Onthewallinthefoyer,there’salarger-than-lifeprintofthephotofromourwedding.It’smypersonalfavoriteofthebunch,oneofourfirstkissasamarriedcouple.Hermesdidusasolidandduckedoutoftheway,thoughIdidn’trealizeitatthetime.
“Youaresuchasap.”Shenudgesmewithhershoulder.“Comeon,Husband.Wedon’twanttobelate.”
Iloopmyarmaroundherwaistasweheaddowntheelevatortotheparkinggarage.It’ssofuckingeasybeingwithPsyche,listeningtoherdetailherplanstochampionanewdesignerJulietterecommendedwhospecializesinplus-sizedclothing,thatIforgettobenervousuntilwe’reparkingoutsidehermother’sbuilding.
MychestgetstightasIstareatthefrontdoor.“Whataretheoddsshedecidestopoisonme?”
Psycheraisesherbrows.“Wecanpretendthatyou’reactuallyworriedaboutthatifyoulike.”Shereachesacrossthecenterconsoleandtakesmyhand.“Orwecantalkabouttherealissue.”
“Don’ttellmeDemeterisn’tcapableofpoisoningsomeone.”
“Iwouldn’tdreamofit.”
Igiveheralook.“Isthatsupposedtobereassuring?You’reenjoyingthis.”
“Onlyalittle,”sheadmits.“It’ssoraretoseeyounervous.”
“Psyche.”
“Eros.”Shesqueezesmyhand.“Iloveyou.Mymothermighthaveresistedtheideaatfirst,butshe’smadeherpeacewithit.Shewon’tbemoredifficultthannormalatthisdinner,andhomicideisstrickenfromthelistofpossibilities.”
Psyche’sfamilyisimportanttoher.Themostimportantthingtoher.Shelovesme,buthersistersareherbedrock.Evenhermother,forallthattheyclash,holdsavitalroleinherlife.IfIcan’tmakepeacewiththem,truepeace,itmightbecomeawedgeinthefuture.Itmighthurther
Iswallowhard.“Let’sgo.”
Shereleasesmelongenoughtogetoutofthecarandthenreclaimsmyhandasweheadintothebuilding.Icanpretendit’ssimplyforthejoyoftouchingme,butit’sobviousshe’sofferinghersilentsupport.Iappreciateit.
I’vefaceddowninnumerabledangeroussituations.I’vekilledpeople.I’veswumwiththeworstpredatorsOlympushastoofferwithoutblinking.
Ofcourseitwouldbeafamilydinnerthathasmesonervous,I’mindangerofbeingsick.
Demeter’sapartmentisidenticaltowhatitlookedlikethelasttimewewerehere,oneofthemanytripstotransportallofPsyche’swardrobetoourplace.Thesparebedroomalreadylookslikeaperfectreplicaofhershere,soI’vecommissionedacontractortoremodeltheentirespaceasacloset.It’sasurpriseforherbirthdaynextmonth.Oncesheapprovesthedesign,we’llstartconstruction.
IexpectPsychetoleadthewayintothekitchenwhereIcanhearDemeterandPersephonetalkinginlowvoices,butsheveersawayfromthatdoorandhaulsmeupthestairs.IcursewhenIcatchmytoeonastair.“Ifyouwantedaquickie,wecouldhavedoneitinthecarinsteadofyourmother’shouse.”
“Ha-ha,veryfunny.Iwanttoshowyousomething.”
“Isityour—”
“Eros,”shehisses,butshe’sobviouslytryingnottolaugh.“Focus.”
“I’dsayI’mremarkablyfocusedrightnow.”Thebantereasessomeofmytension.Nomatterwhatelsetodaybrings,thisisthesame.IletPsychedragmealonglikeherfavoritetoyuntilshestopsinfrontofthepicturewall.“Look.”
Thisisn’tthesameaswhenIwasherethefirsttime.Therearetwonewadditions.Thefirstisablack-framedphotoofHadesandPersephone.She’swearingawhiteweddinggownthatlooksremarkablytraditional.There’sevenaveilcoveringherblondhair.He,ofcourse,isinablack-on-blacksuit,buthe’snotwearinghiscustomarydourexpression.Instead,he’sstaringdownathisbridewithanindulgentsmileonhisface.She’sbeamingathim,practicallyradiatinglight.It’ssosweetitmakesmyteethache.
Psychetugsmyarm.“Yes,yes,mysisterlookslovely.Thisone.”Shepointstothesecondaddition.There,nexttothephotoofHadesandPersephone,isoneofmeandPsyche.Thisoneisn’tfromtheceremonybutfromthephotosweposedforafterthefact.I’mholdingPsychecloseandhaveonearmwrappedaroundherwaistandtheotherhandtippingherchinupwiththeobviousintentionofkissingher.Shelookssoftandhappyandperfect.
Andme?
Myheart’sinmyeyes.
Idon’tmissthesignificanceofthisphotobeinghereamongtheseotherhappyphotosoftheDimitriouwomen.Demetermightnothavewelcomedmetothefamilywithopenarmsandsweetwords,butbyhangingthisphoto,sheiswelcomingmeintothefamily.
Ilaugh,mythroatalittletight.“Well,fuck.”
“What?”
Ican’treallyputthisstrangesensationintowords.I’veneverhadafamilybefore,oratleastafamilywhereeveryinteractionisn’ttransactional.Awarmwelcome,eventhissmall,makesmefeelstrangeandawkward,likeIdon’tknowwhattodowithmyhands.“Yourmotherhasapointedwayofwelcomingsomeoneintothefamily.”
“Shedoes,doesn’tshe?”Psycheleansagainstmyarm.“Hey,you.”
“Yeah?”
“Iloveyou.”
Ipressaquickkisstoherbright-pinklips.“Iloveyou,too.Nowlet’sgodownandgreetyourmotherproperly.”
WefindtheentireDimitriouclaninthekitchen.AndHades,whichsurprisesthefuckoutofme.Heliftshisbrowswhenheseesmebutotherwiseseemscontenttooccupyacornerawayfromthewomenmovingaroundoneanotherlikeaterrifyinglywell-oiledmachine.Psychegivesmyhandonelastsqueezeandjoinsthemseamlessly.
EurydicestirswhatappearstobemarinarasaucewhilechattingwithPersephone,whoremoveshotrollsfromtheoven.Demetertipssteamingnoodlesintoastrainer,givesitagoodrinse,andweavesaroundPersephonetodumpthemintothesauce.Callistoischoppingvegetablesforasaladwithaspeedthatmakesmystomachshrivelup.Psychewashesherhandsandthenstartstransferringthechoppedvegetablesintothegiantsaladbowlfilledwithlettuce.
IinchbackuntilI’mevenwithHades,safelyontheothersideofthepeninsulacounter.“Aretheyalwayslikethis?”Imurmur.
“Yes.”
Noonebumpsintoeachother.Nooneevenhesitates.Andtheymanageitwhilealltalkingatonce.It’soverwhelmingintheextreme.Notjustthesheercompetence;it’sthefactthatIcanfeeltheirloveforeachotherineveryword,everymovement.
“Sothisiswhatfamilyreallylookslike.”Idon’tmeantosaythewordsoutloud.Isureasfuckdon’tmeanforHadestohearthem.
Hehuffsoutadrylaugh.“Yeah,itshockedthefuckoutofme,too,thefirstfewtimes.Yougetusedtoit.”Hehesitates.“It’sevenkindofnicesometimes,especiallywhentheyletyouhelp.”
ItstrikesmethatHadesisanotherpersoninOlympuswhowouldn’thavemuchinthewayoffamilyexperience.Hisparentsdiedwhenhewasalittlekid.Iglanceathim.“Bravetostepintothattornado.”
“Justwaituntilyou’reinthemiddleofit.”
Strangelyenough,Ican’twait.
Withintenminutes,thewomenhaveushaulingfoodtothetable.Dinnerisjustasmuchawhirlwindasthepreparingseemedtobe.Psycheandhersisterstalkovereachother,withDemeterinterjectingdrycommentsatregularintervals.It’schaoticandmorethanalittleoverwhelming.
ButHadesisright.It’s…nice.
Icanfeelthelovetheyholdforeachother,evenwhenPersephoneandCallistostartbickeringoveramisrememberedinstanceofsiblinginjustice.I’mcontenttopickatmyfoodandsoakuptheenergy.Thisiswhatfamilyfeelslike.Whathomefeelslike.
Ilikeit.
Onceeveryone’seatentheirfill,Hadesclearshisthroat.“We’lldodishes.”
“Smartboys.”Demeter’ssmileisknife-sharp.“We’llbeinthelivingroom.”
Hadesheadsintothekitchenandthewomenwhiskoutoftheroom.AllexceptPsyche.Sheglancesafterherfamilyandtakesmyhand.“Areyoudoingokay?Iknowwecanbealotatfirst.Ifweneedtoleave—”
“I’mgood.”TheloveIfeelforthiswomanaboutburstsoutofmychest.Ofcourseshe’dpausetocheckinonme,tooffertoleaveearlyeventhoughshe’sobviouslyenjoyingherself.Isqueezeherhand.“Betterthangood.Goenjoyyourmotherandsisters.We’llbeinoncewe’vefinishedthedishes.”
“Ifyou’resure…”
“Iam.”
Shefinallynods,herlipscurvinginaslowgrin.“Oh,bytheway,Ialmostforgot.Ihaveasurpriseforyouwhenwegethome.”Sheleanscloseandlowershervoice.“Iboughtsomenewlingerie.PlayniceandI’llletyoutearitoffmewithyourteeth.”
“Youlittleasshole,”Ibreathe.Ihavetoadjustmypantsalittle,whichmakeshersmirk.Evenherdamnsmirkissexy.“Justforthat,Iamgoingtotearitoffwithmyteeth,stripbylacystrip.”
“Ohno,notthat,”shesays,deadpan.
Ilaugh.It’sbigandfreeingandbanishesthelastofthenervesthatclungthroughdinner.AbeautifulwifewhoiseverythingIneverdreamedofdeserving.Alovingfamilythatseemsalltooreadytodrawmeintotheircircle.IreallyamtheluckiestsonofabitchinOlympus.
WantmoreKateeRobert?
OrderWickedBeautyAcknowledgments
Amassivethankstoallmyreaders.Iwouldn’tbeabletodothiswithoutyoursupport,andIamconstantlyhumbledandsoincrediblygratefulforyourresponsetothesexylittlestoriesIenjoywritingsomuch.
HugethankstomyeditorialteamatSourcebooksforhelpingmecraftElectricIdolintothebestversionofitself.MaryAltmanandChristaDésir,yourinsightwasexactlywhatIneeded!ThankstoJessicaSmith,RachelGilmer,JocelynTravis,andSusieBenton.
ThankyoutoDawnAdamsforthedesign!Thisbookfeelssospecialbecauseofit.Big,BIGthankstoStefaniSlomaandKatieStutzforyoursupportwithmarketingandPR.You’vegoneaboveandbeyond!ThankstoLizOttefortalkingupthisseriessomuch!
Thankyou,asalways,tomyagent,LauraBradford,foralwaysbeinginmycorner!
Thankstomyteamintheveryunofficialsense.PiperJ.Drake,yousuggestedhavingaliteral“taketheheart”momentanditreallymadeallthedifferenceinthisbook.ThankstoAsaMariaBradleyandJennyNordbakforalwaysbeingonlyatextawaywhenIgetstuckorjusthaveabonkersidea.BigappreciationtoAndieJ.ChristopherandNishaSharmaforkeepingmefedonTikToks.Many,manythankstotheWordMakersgroupforwritingwithme,dayinanddayout,andalwaysbelievingmewhenIsay“It’llbeFINE”evenwhenI’mbarelyreininginmyscatteredchaos.
Lastbutneverleast,thankyoutomyfamilyforkeepingmetetheredtoreality,oratleastsomeapproximationofit.Thankstothekidsforweatheringtrulyunprecedentedtimes(really,wouldlovetogetbacktosomethingresemblingprecedented)withallofusstuckunderoneroofforthirteenmonthsandcounting.AllmylovetoTimforbeingthebestpartnerapersoncouldeverdreamof.Yoursupportandbeliefinmehaskeptmegoingthroughupsanddownsandloop-de-loops.Youreallyareromanceheromaterial!AbouttheAuthor
KateeRobertisaNewYorkTimesandUSATodaybestsellingauthorofcontemporaryromanceandromanticsuspense.EntertainmentWeeklycallsherwriting“unspeakablyhot.”Herbookshavesoldoveramillioncopies.ShelivesinthePacificNorthwestwithherhusband,children,acatwhothinkshe’sadog,andtwoGreatDaneswhothinkthey’relapdogs.Youcanvisitheratkateerobert.comoronTwitter@katee_robertWickedBeauty
byKateeRobert
Olympushasneverfeltsowicked…
WhenAchilles’smotherfelloutoffavorinOlympus,hevowedthathe’ddowhateverittooktoclawhisfamily’swaybackintotheinnercircle.NowthattheformerAresisgoneandthecovetedrolehasopenedtoanyonewiththestrengthtoclaimit,heandhislover,Patroclus,plantobothcompeteanddoubletheiroddsofwinning.NeitherexpecttheinfamousbeautyHelentobepartoftheprize…orforthesparksthatflywhenthethreeofthemreuniteaftersomanyyearsapart.
ZeusmayhavedecidedHelenishistogiveaway,butshehasherownplans.SheentersthecompetitionasamiddlefingertothemeddlingThirteen,effectivelyvyingforherownhandinmarriage.Theonlypeopleshecantrustaretheonesshecan’tquitekeepherhandsoffof.ButeventheymightnotbestrongenoughtohelpherfacetheworstOlympushastothrowatthem…
“Deliciouslyinventive.”
—PublishersWeeklyStarredReviewforNeonGods
FormoreinfoaboutSourcebooks’sbooksandauthors,visit:
sourcebooks.comAPromiseofFire
byAmandaBouchet
Afiercewomancursedwithpowerfulmagic,abductedbyadangerouswarlorddeterminedtosavehiscountry,ignitingaforbiddenattractionthatwillmakethemburn.
CatFisaisn’twhoshepretendstobe.She’sperfectlycontentlivingdisguisedasasoothsayerinatravelingcircus,avoidingthedestinytheGods—andherdangerousfamily—havesaddledherwith.Asfarasshe’sconcerned,themagichummingwithinherbloodcanliveanddiewithher.Shewon’tbeapawninanyone’sgame.
Butthenshelockseyeswithanambitiouswarlordfromthemagic-deprivedsouthandherillusionofsafetyisshatteredforever.
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