Heart of Fire: (Blood of Zeus: Book Two)

by Meredith Wild

  “That’s actually what my mother had in mind.”

  I lift a brow—and my full grin. “Really?”

  “She wants me to be seen there.” She tenses her jaw but doesn’t say more.

  “Okay.” I draw out the word, inviting her to elaborate. Actually, needing her to. Why does she still look like Veronica has mandated us to go get root canals instead of fresh-picked fruit? “What else?”

  “Then Piper has a movie premiere on Friday, which I’m hoping we can get out of since this is all last minute. But knowing my mother, she’ll make it happen.”

  “Wow. Red carpet. That would be my first.”

  “Thus the wardrobe assault.”

  I give in to a full laugh. “Makes sense now. I guess it could be worse.”

  “And Saturday, there’s a private dinner for the university.” She casts her gaze off to the skyline, spiking my curiosity in an inexplicable way.

  “The Gold Circle Dinner that the president hosts?”

  She nods and nibbles her lower lip even harder. After a few anxious beats, she settles her stare back on me. “You need to know…Arden will be there.”

  I pause, making sure I heard her right.

  “We’ll be there together, of course, but I figured I’d warn you now.” Her gaze darts nervously across my face. “In case, you know…”

  “In case what?”

  “Well, if there’s…friction.”

  My frown deepens. “In what world does your mother think there won’t be?”

  “Maximus.” She takes my hand with beseeching desperation. “I understand your tension. And yes, maybe the event is tempting fate, but it—and all of this—is meant to legitimize us. Being taken seriously by the university is as important as the Hollywood elite.” She swallows hard. “Beyond that, Kell is my sister, which means Arden’s going to be in our lives whether we like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it at all,” I grumble.

  “I know.” Her eyes grow sad. “And I don’t either. But more than that, I hate what this means for Kell. Tolerating him socially is a small price to pay when I think about what she’s sacrificing. For us.”

  I thread my fingers into hers, sobered by the truth in those last words. If Arden had gotten to Kara before she came to me, there would be no us. Then again, she wouldn’t be worrying for her safety at every turn either.

  I accept those facts with resigned silence and a brooding acceptance of the inevitable. In a few days’ time, I’ll be face-to-face with Arden Prieto again. The demon who wanted Kara for his own.

  I only pray, for everyone’s sake, that he’s worked on changing his mind.

  Chapter Eight

  Kara

  “Come in!”

  I step through the front door of the guest house at the sound of Gramps’s muffled call. I don’t have to venture far to find him. He’s sitting at the built-in writing desk in the kitchen, crouched over an electric typewriter, dozens of half-filled sheets littered around him. His thin hair is a mess. His cardigan is wrinkled.

  He keeps typing after I close the door behind me, shutting out most of the bright afternoon sunshine. The air is dank, like he hasn’t opened a window in days.

  “Hey, Gramps,” I say, reminding him I’m here.

  He answers with an absent grunt that I doubt has much to do with me. He reaches up to crank out another piece of paper and toss it away with the rest. Finally he turns. Through his thick glasses, his blue eyes seem to brighten. He smiles. Then all too quickly, it falls away.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, worry needling me instantly.

  He rises from the desk. “Fine and dandy,” he mutters on his way to the stove. He fills the tea kettle and sets the burner on high. “Tea?”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  Another grunt, but that’s it. I’m not sure whether to be alarmed or confused.

  “Are you writing again?” I haven’t seen the dusty typewriter in years, but I can’t deny it’s a welcome sight. So maybe I should just be happy that he’s into something else besides sitting in his chair and wrapping his mind in old movies.

  “Wasting paper is more like it. I don’t know why I bother.” He squeezes the back of his neck.

  I’m officially back to confused. “Is everything okay? You seem upset.”

  “Upset?” He lifts his eyebrows and draws his lips so tight I can scarcely see them. For a split second, he doesn’t look so different than my mother when she’s winding up for a fit of her own.

  The resemblance doubles the knot of concern I’ve been nursing since I walked in.

  “I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?” He whips off his glasses and gestures toward the nearby living room, where a flatscreen hangs on the wall. “You’re all over the news, ladybug. I haven’t stepped foot in your mother’s house in years, and let me tell you, I’ve been tempted today just to see what the hell is going on. Does she know?”

  “Of course she knows. It was her idea.” I can’t help the defensiveness in my tone. I wasn’t sure what to expect from our visit today, but I didn’t think my grandfather would be so upset the moment I walked through the door.

  His jaw unlocks enough to betray his shock. “Her idea? So she knows about this young man you can’t leave alone, even though—”

  “Even though I was destined for someone else. Yes, she knows. She knows everything. And believe it or not, she’s trying to help us make it work.”

  A shocked laugh escapes him, followed by a sudden weariness. A soft hunch of his shoulders. The unfurling of his angry fists. I twist a few fingers together, racked by regret. He’s a drastic pendulum of emotions, and it’s because of me. I was right to come today, but it’s not going to be the kind of visit we’re used to enjoying.

  “Gramps, why don’t you sit down? I can try to explain.”

  Wordlessly, we each take a chair at the little kitchen table where we’d visited not so long ago. Life had been different then. So very different.

  I fold my hands in front of me, preparing to launch into the most important details. “You remember me saying that Maximus was different, right? And possibly not even mortal.”

  He nods, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Has something come of it? Have you found out more?”

  “We both have. And it explains everything. His physical strength, his intellectual speed, his ability to heal, and even our connection.”

  He waves his hand between us rapidly. “Out with it, Kara. I’m not getting any younger here, and you’re worrying me into my grave.”

  “He’s the son of Zeus.”

  He blinks once. Twice. Then leans back in his chair with a fierce shake of his head. “That’s nearly unbelievable.”

  “Nearly. But not impossible. His mother is mortal. She’s always been elusive about his paternity, and now we know why.”

  “So you’re sure?”

  “My mother is sure.”

  If Zeus passed my mother’s appraisal, I have no doubt he is who he says he is. Plus, Kell would sniff out a fraud in our midst in no time.

  Gramps acknowledges that with a tilt of his head. “All right. So you’ve been out on the town with a demigod.” He pauses a beat. “Veronica must think this quite a coup. Her entire existence revolves around moving up in the world. This moves her up in nearly every realm. She couldn’t have planned this better.”

  I wince at my grandfather’s quick assumptions, partly because none of that ever occurred to me. My mother’s meddling and superficiality have always been so transparent. Or so I’ve thought.

  “She’s never said that,” I add quietly, unwilling to completely submit to his theory. “She seemed upset because the underworld had already sent someone for me. That obviously created a few wrinkles in her grand plan.” I pause, remembering how smoothly she transitioned into her new agenda for me. “She’s definitely approached this mission of launching Maximus into the public eye with typical Veronica Valari vigor, though. Maybe even a little extra punch of enthusiasm, but that�
�s how she is sometimes. I’m her new project. She lives for this kind of thing.”

  Like Kell’s social following. Like Jaden’s film career. She finally gets to mold me and my life the way she’s been dying to for years. More, she’s trying to keep me safe. Alive. Above the surface. I want to believe that’s higher on her priority list than moving herself further up in the world.

  Gramps doesn’t appear moved. He drags his hand over his salt-and-pepper-stubbled cheek. “Yes, well, it’s always been about the family. Turning the Valaris into a Hollywood dynasty. She’s taken the whole matter of breeding out your humanity to a different level. I can’t imagine any demon has ever participated in a human’s punishment with such self-serving bravado as she has. Even your grandmother couldn’t be bothered with the human world for very long.”

  “Maybe because that’s all Grandmother was—a pureblood demon. Sometimes I forget that Mom is more human than I am. I don’t think that necessarily makes her more compassionate or kind-spirited than the rest of us, but perhaps she feels more connected to earthly things because of it. Or maybe she’s trying to make up for the fact that…”

  I let the words die on my lips. Even if my siblings and I have thought it, we’ve never dared bring it up. Not out loud.

  Gramps frowns. “What?”

  I glance around, paranoid my mother will suddenly appear through one of the windows, even though she rarely, if ever, ventures to this part of the estate’s grounds.

  “Unless you consider concocting an international media spectacle a special gift, Mom doesn’t have any extra abilities. Not like us, I mean. I can pick up on how she’s feeling before she even knows. Kell can sniff the truth out of anyone. And Jaden can catch a conversation the neighbors are having two doors down.”

  He nods in quiet agreement.

  “Maybe that’s why she’s so determined to make a mark here. On earth. Doing what she does best.”

  “If that’s the case, she’s being incredibly short-sighted. She’ll get a few hits of splashy news, but she’ll lose far more.” He swallows hard, his expression growing tight. New tension radiates off him. “She’s not protecting you with any of this, Kara. If anything, you’re in more danger than you were before.”

  Pricklings of fear race down my spine with his words, uttered so solemnly that I’m almost compelled to believe him without further explanation.

  “Zeus is trying to work something out,” I offer, hoping to reassure him and slow my sprinting heart rate. “With Maximus being his son, he thinks we can strike some sort of agreement. Until then, they shouldn’t come for me if I’m in plain sight.”

  “If you’re talking about Hades’s minions, then you may be right. But there are others who have a far less diplomatic approach to vengeance.”

  “I don’t think this is about vengeance, Gramps. We both know they’ve been making an example of you—”

  He laughs roughly. It’s enough to cut me short.

  “You don’t think Zeus fathering another illegitimate son would spark vengeance in anyone?”

  My thoughts fly and tumble with this new rationale. I give up on smoothing out my pulse.

  Oh no.

  All this time, I’d been worried for my own survival. I’d been focused on my willful transgressions and atoning in whatever way could keep Maximus and me together.

  More, I’d been completely wrapped up in Maximus. In all the fire and magic of our romantic relationship, falling for him in every wonderful way. Taking for granted that he could keep me safe until all this was sorted out.

  It never occurred to me that he could be in danger too.

  “Hera.” I whisper the name, for fear that saying it any louder might somehow draw her into our presence.

  Gramps’s answering grimace tells me I’ve hit on the truth. Some unbelievable but equally frightening truth.

  “But Zeus knows about Mother’s plan,” I argue. “He agreed to it. I’m pretty sure he helped craft it, in fact. It’s buying him time to work things out with Hades…”

  “Are you certain Hades is the only one who needs appeasing?”

  I shake my head because I’m not certain of anything. Z is an enigma. Charismatic and powerful. Calculating and evasive. Pretending I know his true motives would only further prove my own foolish ignorance. I’m more perceptive than any human I’ve ever known, but I have nothing on the gods.

  “Past that, Zeus—myth or man—is the poster child for irrational confidence and blind ego,” Gramps continues. “How many times do you think he’s had to cover up his indiscretions over the eons?”

  “Likely more than I can count, but why act on it now? Maximus is grown. And he’s not a threat to Hera.”

  “He doesn’t have to be a threat. He exists, which means Zeus was unfaithful. Again. That’s enough for her to want to destroy all evidence of the affair or, at the very least, make Maximus suffer dearly for it.”

  I shake my head frantically. “Why would Z put his own child in that kind of danger? It doesn’t make sense. He told us he’s been searching for Maximus for years, and I believe him. Why track his son down only to risk losing him?”

  “I don’t know. But I suggest you find out what’s really going on here before Hera does.” He scrubs his hand down his face again. “Meeting you is either the best or the worst thing that could have possibly happened to Maximus Kane. Only time will tell.”

  I brace my elbows to the table as the weight of his words clamps over my shoulders. Horror and hope clang through my thoughts, and I let the noise take over—until Gramps rises with a frustrated groan. He flips off the burner under the tea kettle. Then he opens a cabinet and yanks out a small tumbler before disappearing into the living room. When he returns, the glass is half full of amber liquor, but not for long. He shoots most of it down in a big gulp, wincing as he swallows.

  “Gramps… Don’t you think it’s a little early for that?”

  I’ve seen him pour a drink from time to time, but never while he’s been so distressed. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite like this. His gestures are jerky and impulsive, every movement loud for the way he makes contact with everything around him. At once, the din in my head is nothing but a dull roar.

  “It’s a little late for it, if you ask me.” He tosses back the last of the liquor.

  “Which means what?” I ask, not hiding my apprehension.

  “It’s been years since I spoke to your mother. Really spoke to her.”

  All my rattling anxiety heightens for a painful moment as I absorb what he’s saying…what he’s implying.

  “Wait. What? You’re going to talk to her?”

  “Hell yes, I am. I’ve let her run the show around here for years. I’ve been obedient, I’ve been quiet, and I’ve stayed out of her way, but this is where I draw the line. She will listen to what I have to say.” He illustrates that last point by jabbing his index finger in the direction of the main house.

  Before I can talk him out of whatever he’s planning, he’s marching out the door. I’m tempted to tell him Mom’s not home, but I know she is. When I arrived, she was mercifully closed up behind her office doors, allowing me to sneak out to the guest house unnoticed.

  Once inside, Gramps and I intercept her just as she throws the doors wide, her three black-eyed Chihuahuas and her assistant flanking her. My mother’s nostrils flare broadly the moment she notices us.

  “Giovani—”

  “Dad,” he corrects sharply.

  She scoffs out a laugh, stepping out as she waves dismissively behind her. The gesture has Natalie drawing the doors closed again, taking the yapping canines with her. The three of us have a much-needed moment of privacy.

  My mother saunters toward one of the brassy vases holding a fresh arrangement of flowers in the center of the room. “Gio,” she coos with that saccharine tone I know too well. “What brings you across the lawn today? Are you out of rations? Can I have something delivered to you?”

  “No, Veronica. We’re going
to have a serious talk about Kara and this mess she’s in.”

  My mother folds her arms across her chest, turning toward us as she does. “Oh? And what would you know about this mess anyway?” She arrows an accusing glare in my direction.

  Gramps follows it. “You should go, Kara. Your mother and I need to speak alone.”

  My mother’s lips thin. Her posture becomes as rigid as a bow. I take it as their silent votes of agreement. For all the times I’ve tried to protect my grandfather and advocate for him, I recognize now that his acquiescence to my mother’s will has been at least partially his choice. While my fate may lie at the center of it, this fight isn’t all mine. And while the recognition is an epiphany, it also eases some of the anxiety in my veins. I can take a full breath without pain again.

  I turn to leave, but my mother’s voice lances through the silence, stopping me.

  “Kara.”

  Turning back, I curse inwardly. How bad is this going to be if she insists that I stay?

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “Arden is looking forward to your next meeting. I expect you to reach out to him at your soonest convenience.”

  My breath catches. The uncomfortable pressure slams my chest again, joined by stabs that might as well be the thorns from every rose she’s rearranging. “Next…meeting?”

  She tilts her head, gifting me with her best condescending smirk. “Oh, Kara. You didn’t think you could neglect all your commitments, did you? I’ve hired the man for our antiquities project and paid a sizable retainer. I expect him to see the project through. That means you will see it through, as well.”

  I manage an uneven exhale. “You expect me to work side-by-side with him?”

  She widens the smile, sleek and sure as a Siamese that’s just swallowed a mouse. “That’s exactly what I expect.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I’ve already told you, Arden and I have come to terms. You’re perfectly safe with him. Besides…” She glances at her father briefly before returning her incisive stare on me. “I believe you owe me a favor.”