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

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Heart of Fire: (Blood of Zeus: Book Two) Page 12

by Meredith Wild


  “Tell me, then, what are the rules on sending your minions across the river to deflower half-blood demons on earth? I must have missed that in the fine print.”

  Hades tightens his jaw. “Maybe you missed it while you were deflowering humans all over creation.”

  Z laughs halfheartedly, avoiding my eyes. “My dear black-hearted brother, you’ve spent too much time keeping your subjects’ endless sorrow on a steady churn. You have no appreciation for spontaneity. You need to live a little. Is Persephone out of town again? Is that why you’re so sour over this?” Z uses that moment to loudly hail another round from Honey.

  “You’d be very wise to leave Persephone out of this,” Hades levels. “And for the record, your spontaneity has caused you nothing but trouble for eons.” His stare is fixed on me then, the obvious result of one of Z’s many indiscretions. “Does Hera know about him?”

  Z chokes awkwardly on his last swallow of mead. “Of course not. You know she’d lose her lid if she—”

  “She knows.”

  All eyes shift to Po and the threat he’s just knelled in the tense air. I swallow hard because being on Hera’s radar is pretty high on the list of things I don’t want or need in my life right now.

  “She knows about me?” I challenge, my posture clenching. “How?”

  Z’s shoulders are equally stiff angles now. “They were hidden. Nancy was safe. I made sure of it.”

  “How could you be sure? Even you can’t be everywhere at once.” Po starts twisting his trident again. “And when you were away, threats were made on their lives.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Z’s loud challenge marks a rare break in his composure. “Hera is my problem, not yours.”

  “Some would even call her your wife,” Hades mutters.

  Z ignores the comment and rises to his feet, his breezy exterior decidedly shed. “You should have come to me, Po. I knew you were involved. I knew it.”

  “Enough!” Po bangs down the base of his cane, and the sea beyond the patio responds with twenty-foot breakers. “Just take a breath and listen, Z.” Just as swiftly, the waves mellow out. “I did what I felt was best under the circumstances. And the circumstances were such that it was better for you not to know where they went.”

  “He’s my son.” Z stabs a finger at him, the tip alive with small but angry blue sparks. “You had no right.”

  Po swings the trident forward, tilting its gilded tines toward Z. “And you were idiotically in love with his human mother who had absolutely no place anywhere near Olympus. To think you could keep them truly hidden from anyone, let alone your wife and queen, only proves how blinded you were—and frankly still are—to the dangers of keeping the mortal in your life.”

  Z openly seethes. “They were my responsibility!”

  “And they’d be dead if you’d kept on assuming that responsibility. Even her keeper didn’t think you were up to the task. She reached out to me because she felt it was a matter of life and death. What was I supposed to do?”

  While Po speaks, a strange instinct fires in the depths of my brain. Something here is feeling familiar, but my mind won’t zoom the memory into focus.

  “Keeper?” I latch on to the word that first fires the sensation.

  Everyone looks to me, their expressions suddenly full of chilling gravity, as if they’ve just remembered that I’m here. The silence becomes heavier than all their heated words combined. It’s not comfortable. I still don’t care.

  Po pulls the trident back in, along with a deep and measured breath. “I believe, my boy, that you know her as Regina Nikian.”

  “Reg?” My shock-struck throat practically chokes it out. “What the hell does she have to do with—”

  “She’s a soldier of Olympus.” Po ignores Z’s censuring glare. “Was, anyway. Even though you were kept out of sight of the gods, she was the one tasked with your and your mother’s safety when Z decided to raise you in his world. The choice wasn’t Nancy’s, of course, so Regina was in part hired to keep you and your mother in Olympus, as well.” He finally acknowledges Z by raising an accusing brow. “He needed the assistance, since he was often gone, taking care of other…affairs.”

  “Fuck you, Po.” Z drops down angrily in his chair when Honey brings the second round.

  Po shrugs. “The boy has a right to know.”

  “Say whatever you’d like. I was faithful to Nancy.”

  Hades hums playfully. “No wonder Hera was in such a fury.”

  My father rears up with a curled fist but falls back just as fast with a taut glower. I’m certain my features are arranged similarly.

  Out of all the revelations I’ve had, this new truth is the most astounding. But the deeper I consider it, the more it all makes sense. Reg’s steadfast protectiveness. How she often knows me better than I know myself. How she’s always been there for Mom and me.

  But with the tidal wave of astonishment, there’s anger too. And confusion. More of that than anything—which comes as a blessing at the moment, helping me focus on forming new words.

  I exhale a breath that’s felt clamped in my chest for too long. “Why can’t I remember anything?” I claw a hand through my hair. “None of this…”

  Po settles a thoughtful gaze on me. The dark-blue monsoons in his eyes sock me square in the chest. Something else is stirred now, whipped into life by this intense contact with my uncle. But again, it’s maddening and elusive. I know it’s something that’s part of me but buried deep. So goddamned deep…

  “Because we knew you were never going back,” he answers calmly. “And if you were permitted to remember more, you’d likely push for deeper answers and risk being discovered on earth. Perhaps not just by the gods, either. It was all for your own safety.”

  There’s another long moment of silence, weighted and thick, in which Z and Po study me with different degrees of intensity. I have no idea what they’re thinking. I have no idea what I should think right now.

  Po draws his lips into a regretful line. “I am sorry to have done it. I hope you know that. I believe your childhood was a happy one.”

  “It was,” Z adds, slamming his emptied glass onto the table. “Some of the most joyous days of my existence.” Z’s comment is hoarse yet tender. He points to Po again. “You and me. We need to talk.”

  Po’s nostrils flare. “I suppose I deserve that much. Let’s try to keep our elements to ourselves, though. Earth has enough to face right now without two gods at war, breaking all the china in the house.”

  Z mutters something I don’t catch on his dash to the door. Po rises too. His huge shoulders strain at the confines of his jacket as he leans hard on his staff and limps unhurriedly after Z.

  I look to Hades. “What’s with the limp? He’s a god.”

  Hades doesn’t lift his attention from studying his tidy fingernails and positioning his rings. “A fish out of water, so to speak. We’re all a little out of sorts outside of our own realms, which is another reason I’d love to get back to mine. My brother gets rather chatty after the mead, though, so I’m afraid we’ll be here a while.” He tips his chin toward the still full glass before me. “Try some.”

  “I’m all set.” I keep my tone and my posture guarded. The fewer flanks I expose, the better.

  “No memories of Olympus and you’re turning away the magic mead?” He tsks. “You’re just missing out on the best of everything.”

  I push out a hard huff and mutter a soft curse. Something about the god’s good-natured challenge needles me now—to the point that I give in. I take a short sniff of the rich, dark liquid in my tumbler. It’s got to be one-eighty proof, maybe more. I toss back a swallow of it. The alcohol is pungent, piercing, but delicious. Yeah, I’ll have to go slow on this. As in, not any more at all.

  I try to parse out the flavors and compare it to something I’ve had before, but before anything clicks, I’m hit with the one thing that has always evaded me. A buzz. An instant blanket of warmth and…happiness? The heaviness
of my own body is just a little lighter. Hell, I almost feel like laughing, until I suddenly catch Hades boring a hole in me with his stare.

  A cloak of dark energy takes over the air. It reminds me of stepping into an air-conditioned building. It smells like humid dirt, and it’s accompanied by a mocking sigh.

  “Shall you and I have a chat, then?”

  The question mark at the end is the most unnecessary punctuation since we got here. This face-to-face with the demon is exactly what I’ve come here to accomplish. All the rest of this crazy shit—Mom, Reg, my past, my memories—can wait.

  For now, I hope Z and Po take their time so I can get this right, even if my brain is swimming a little more than I’d like. This could be the only chance I have to convince the brooding god to spare the life of the woman I love.

  But I don’t dare give the thought another second to gather steam, especially when Hades speaks up again.

  “Let’s go see what Honey has on special, hm?”

  He grabs my shoulder and guides me toward the bar. And I let him.

  Is it because my body feels a hundred pounds lighter? Or because I’m starting to latch on to the twisted truth that we’re related? Worse, that I’m already feeling more connected to him and Po than I ever expected to?

  But is that the absolute worst?

  I’ve been seeking this my whole life. The revelation of my roots. The knowledge of my family. Maybe I’m just uncomfortable with having to actually accept those concepts now. Maybe, with time, some of this will feel a little less crazy.

  Says the demigod strolling up to the fire bar with the king of hell…

  We take two stools at the back end of the O-shaped bar. The only light source continues to be the tower of endless flames at the core of the area. They’re not contained behind any glass or barriers, yet their heat is still subliminal at best. It’s not so gaudy and bold back here, where the fire cone drenches everything in an amber and orange glow.

  “What can I get you?” Honey’s not mirroring Hades’s slanted smile. He looks like he’d rather be drowning in the waves past the windows instead of waiting on our drink orders. Back here, his hair and tats seem to gleam brighter. But that doesn’t mitigate the darker, more disquieted side of his demeanor.

  “You have any more of the Ninth Circle Rye?”

  Hades’s blunt query has Honey responding like an on-duty sentry. “Yes, sir. Two glasses?”

  Hades looks to me.

  I shake my head. “Water for me.”

  Another drink of anything else in here will put me soundly on my ass. Not acceptable. Not right now.

  The dimmed light should help hide my discomfort from Hades’s long scrutiny. It doesn’t. I continue feeling like a science experiment as he stares his fill of me. But I let him take all the time he needs. I hate it, but I do it.

  Thankfully, Honey is speedy about delivering the drinks. Clearly the guy wants to drop the booze and move on from our atmosphere completely.

  I lift my glass. “Cheers, I guess.”

  Hades collects his own tumbler without ceremony. “Toasts are for the hopeful.” He slugs back a swallow. “Which probably brings us to why you’re here. Z must have thought meeting you would soften my position about my little rebel.”

  I hesitate. “Has it?”

  “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not that sentimental. Not even about family.”

  “You seem pretty interested in what I’ve been up to.”

  An appraising smirk breaks across the god’s angular face. “Oh, you still think all that’s about you?”

  I frown. “Why else would you and Po be following me around LA? Certainly wasn’t a coincidence.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  I take a guarded gulp of my water. “All right. Enlighten me, then.”

  “Po’s eagerness to see you in the flesh dovetailed nicely with my interest in seeing her in the flesh.”

  I’m certain the fire has swallowed all the oxygen in the room, because I can’t breathe right for a few counts.

  Shit.

  “Kara,” is all I can manage, though the sound is a little broken past my lips.

  He was watching her, not me. Not even us. Because who cares about us when he’s already convinced she belongs to him?

  “Why do you want her?” I finally get out from between my teeth. “Why is she so important?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, Maximus. Why do you want her? Why would you defy me, and the very edicts of hell, to keep her?”

  I tilt the glass back and forth between my hands, frowning. Want has never been a word I’ve associated with Kara. Does a tree ever just want sunshine? Does a page simply want for words? Is a fire okay with merely wanting kindling?

  The metaphor knocks me back to what’s in front of me. The play of the fire cone’s glow on the water in my glass. The mix of liquid and light is mesmerizing. I’m thankful for the modicum of mellow it lends. I’m everything but mellow right now.

  Hades taps his fingernails against the bar. “You’re fully aware of what she is and what she’s done, yes?”

  “I am.”

  He swallows down more of his rye, which sends a waft of it in my direction when he exhales again. “She’s defied the decrees and requirements of her ancestry.”

  “Yes. I know.”

  “Risked her entire family’s standing in both of their worlds.”

  “Yes, damn it. I get it. And I don’t care.”

  He pauses, studying me with a hard coal squint. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Why?”

  “If you’re looking for me to convince you of all the ways she’s stitched into me now, I won’t. I just…can’t. Some things are beyond words. Words are what I’m good at, and I have none that come close to describing what exists between us.”

  He hums softly. “Words fail the poet. How romantic, I think.”

  “I’m no poet.”

  He pauses thoughtfully again. “And she must share this inexplicable attraction as well. Since she’s done all of this for you.”

  “For me,” I return, too torturously. “I’m aware of everything she’s done and every rule she’s violated, for me. Now that we’ve beat those facts to a pulp, let’s cut to the main point here.” My knuckles are still white against the bar’s edge. “You haven’t tried to take Kara yet. That means you want something else.”

  “Perhaps.” Hades motions to Honey for another hit of the alcohol. “Perhaps not.”

  I don’t buy it, but I wait until Honey’s finished with pouring him some more Ninth Circle and walks away.

  “What. Do. You. Want?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure when all this started to unfold, but now I’m beginning to want what you want.” When he grins, his canines show. “Greed and envy and complicated sibling rivalry playing no small part, I’m sure.”

  I grab the bar’s ledge and twist hard. The gold lip gives up a noisy creak beneath my grip but nothing else. Great. I finally find a place that can take the abuse of my strength and I can’t wait to get out of it. And what I’m feeling in it.

  “Name your price. Anything.”

  He answers with a mild chuckle that perplexes and enrages me in equal measures. He’s laughing at my agony. At my desperation.

  What else should I expect, though?

  “How can I put a price on something so fascinating?” He tilts his head one way and his smirk the other.

  I scrutinize him harder. “And that’s a reason to laugh?”

  As quickly as it’s hit, his humor fades. “To be honest, I haven’t been fascinated in a while.”

  A while. I hear it for the understatement that it is, though I’m nervous about fathoming the extent of it. Does he mean a couple of years? A hundred? A thousand? And what does that mean for Kara and me?

  After another refill, he gulps down his third glass as swiftly as the first two. Though his eyes glass over, none of his discomfort disappears. He’s allowed me to step behind his magic curtain, se
eing the maudlin truth beneath his surly shell. He’s the ruler of the most frightening empire there is, the overseer of every sin committed. He’s seen it all, from the mild infractions to the truly evil—and now, nothing is new anymore. In any other circumstances, the revelation might have me pitying him.

  But being the center of his new puppet show is worse than adhering to Veronica’s Tinseltown merry-go-round. Worse, because Hades is more opaque about his end game. There’s no itinerary, flow chart, or wardrobe stylists here. When I’m longing for Mama Valari’s control factory, something is definitely wrong.

  “So what does that mean, exactly? You’re fascinated. Where does that get us now? You want a medal? A statue out in front of the bar?”

  I’m playing with fire again. Literally. Tiny, raging hurricanes of it whorl from the ruthless centers of his eyes. But there are new quirks along the ridges of his jaw too. Maybe some levity before he tries to kill me. I can’t tell, and I’m not sure if I want to.

  He cuts into the thick pause with a determined murmur. “I just want…”

  He falters.

  “You want what?” I press.

  He stares at me even harder. Deeper. “I want…to understand.”

  I’m tempted to try bending the bar again. This time, aided by wrath and confusion, I’d probably succeed. To understand what? I’ve never been further from the verb in my life. My senses are all over the map. My thoughts are a million live wires, neurons yanked from their ground wires.

  Until he reaches out, molding his hot palm over my shoulder as he did before. This time, his clutch keeps me motionless—or maybe it’s the deep burn in his eyes that’s stunning me into this unexpected paralysis.

  What. The…?

  His grip tightens and he closes his eyes. Like he’s concentrating. Like he’s searching for something in the darkness behind his eyelids. Then suddenly every synapse in my brain comes back online. But I’m in no more control than I was before. Before the mead. Before this strange and terrifying contact.

  Contact that’s bringing a rush of Kara into my thoughts. Not like they’re normally hard to summon, but this is different. Very different. It feels…forced.

 

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