“No.”
“Then why do you look like you slept in those clothes after drinking a half gallon of kerosene?”
I work my lips together. My mouth is still a dry husk, and my mind is still a casserole of confusion. Now that I’m here, I have no idea how to plunge forward. Nothing’s going to be the same with Reg after this. Inside, I cling to our normalcy for a few seconds longer.
“It wasn’t kerosene,” I finally force myself to say. “Something called Ninth Circle Rye. Or, as my father likes calling it, ‘Honey’s good stuff from the back.’”
Regina grips the bar before dropping her head between her shoulders. For a long moment, I wonder if she’s preparing to be sick in the sink. Instead she rasps, “Bloody. Fucking. Hell.”
“Not exactly.” I use the weighted moment to finally slide onto a stool. It’s less about my comfort and more about the proximity that now feels like a necessity. “Unless that’s where they really park Labyrinth. I doubt Po would have much fun swimming in the Styx, though.”
Through another long moment, she still says nothing. A louder laugh from someone in the book club crowd brings her head back up, but not swiftly. “You know, then? All of it?”
“All of it?” I echo. “Is that an accurate phrase for any of this, Ms. Nikian?”
It’s a strange but pleasant experience to watch her bust out a soft laugh. “Fair question.” She doesn’t hang on long to the humor. “As fair as anything is in all this, I suppose.”
“Fair.” I engrave that one with harder sarcasm. “Now there’s something the gods definitely don’t recognize.”
Her demeanor changes. Though she doesn’t move from her forward hunch, there’s new purpose in her face. “The gods haven’t endured centuries by being fair, Max. What they’ve had to do to keep each of their realms whole…”
“Is that made up in your mind, then?” I meet her stare with just as much determination. “To serve the world of the gods instead of just—”
“We all serve the gods, Maximus.” She pushes back to her full stance. “Some of us are just more aware of our function than others.”
As she states it, she seems to roll her shoulders back even more. I blink, regarding the woman with new eyes, as hers fill with a specific sadness. I get it now. She’s used to hefting weapons and a shield, not coffeepots and book boxes.
I have a hundred questions for her now, but ninety-nine of them have to wait. I have to get out the most important one. “So when you chose to hail Po…and secretly sought out his help, behind Hades’s and Zeus’s backs…who were you serving then?”
Regina doesn’t hesitate a single second about her answer.
“You.”
I take advantage of the chance to do my own leaning back. The outer action aside, I’m not taken aback. Like so many parts of my new normal, this revelation actually brings new light on so much of my history with the woman. A reality that feels so much more right—because now it’s the truth.
Right…but not complete.
There’s still something missing.
Someone who should be here and deserves to be here as much as Reg, if not more. Someone who might be able to help, even more than Reg.
I pull my phone out and push the speed dial button for Mom.
Chapter Sixteen
Kara
Past the kitchen table, which is presently littered with notebooks and homework papers, the dusty hills glow amber in the afternoon light. Our multimillion-dollar view hasn’t changed since Kell and I picked out this house years ago, but so much about our lives has. Very little looks the same these days. And it sure as hell doesn’t feel the same.
Maximus hasn’t been gone long, but I’m distracted by his absence. Strange, since I normally revel in this kind of silence, which was always a rarity in a Beverly Hills compound crowded by siblings, stylists, assistants, and housekeeping staff. But my thoughts are hopelessly muddled, my mind swimming toward some unknown point.
Only one thought bangs at me with aggravating clarity. I should have pressed Z more on details about last night’s meeting instead of assuming Maximus would fill in all the blanks. Because right now, there are a lot of blanks. The cryptic way Maximus left this morning, his brain a very different kind of muddled, makes me think there’s something he’s not telling me.
But I have to trust he will. It’s just that trust, in any of its variations, has never been a favorite concept of mine. When I was little, perhaps, and the word meant taking my first steps to Gramps or sharing silly secrets with Kell and Jaden. But as the years went on, trust became a stand-in for much different things. Like risk. And exposure. And vulnerability. And weakness. Concepts I couldn’t afford to indulge. Humanity I couldn’t admit to having.
I shake my head, banishing those moping musings before refocusing to my laptop and typing out the closing paragraph on the cantos summary that was due yesterday. I date the assignment for Friday, smirking as I do because I am more than willing to accept favoritism when it comes to this seminar. Of course I’m sleeping with the professor, but that’s not my justification. If sex and steam were the only things happening here, I’d have turned in the paper yesterday or accepted the consequences for my tardiness today. But Maximus knows, more than anyone, how taxing it’s been to keep up with anything school-related. I’ve scarcely had time for any of it until now.
I try to concentrate on the assignments for next week but end up staring out the window instead. Once more, my brain cells seem to drift like the motes on the canyon breeze across the patio. Nothing’s secure or solid. I need something to ground me.
I need someone.
But he’s not here.
My eyes land on the thick tome at the edge of the table. With a lack of anything better to do, I pick it up and flip through the Comedy until I get to the next reading assignment. It’s silly and I shouldn’t be in the mood to read about hell, of all things, but I convince myself that somewhere in these pages I’ll find some truth. Even better, some connection with my beloved’s mind in the absence of his body.
I let myself get lost in the poetry. In the strange budding friendship between Dante and his guide. In their faith and protectiveness and determination. Somewhere there’s hope, even as they take their first steps into the deepest recesses of the underworld.
“Rarely do any of us enter here,” I murmur, tracing my fingertip along the lines as I speed through the stanzas. “Take heart, that is the last depth and the darkest lair and the farthest from Heaven which encircles all.”
The front door slams closed, startling me away from the text. It can’t be Maximus. He promised to text when he was heading back. And Kell left an hour ago, mumbling something about a spa appointment to prep for tonight.
“Jaden,” I gasp with surprise.
My little brother saunters in like he owns the place, a sly grin painting his easy expression. He doesn’t need to own the place, because for nearly as long as we’ve been grown, he’s managed to get nearly everything he wants. The joys of being the baby demon in the Valari family, I suppose.
He strolls closer, his moves drenched in practiced grace. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a crisp white shirt unbuttoned enough to show a glimpse of the artwork tattooed on his chest. He’s got the kind of look that sells millions of gossip magazines whenever he graces the cover. To me, he’s just the kid who still steals my fries and coaches me about fidgeting too much. Jaden’s never fidgeted a day in his life.
“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in forever.”
He slips his mirrored aviators up into his dark-brown hair, its waves overgrown but sleek and unruly in that bad-boy way that makes him “perfect for the big screen,” according to our mother. His deep-amber irises swirl with mystery and mischief that perfectly match his playboy reputation.
“I was in Cabo with some friends. I needed a break.”
I laugh. “A break? Jaden, you don’t even work.”
He takes a chair, slouching casually into it. “Oh ye
ah? What would you call getting taxied all over town, taking meetings that Mom’s obsessed with setting up?”
He’s got a solid point. Not that I’m going to say that out loud. “Some people might be grateful to have such a dedicated agent working on their behalf to achieve maximum fame and fortune.”
He rolls his eyes. “Right. I forgot you’re the expert in gratitude.”
I wilt a little. It’s not a secret that I’ve never embraced our lifestyle—at least not to the degree that Jaden and Kell have. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice the nerve he’s hit with fighter-pilot precision. If he does, he pretends not to.
He nods toward the mess of schoolwork in front of me. “What’s all this?”
“Just catching up on some homework. Things have been busy, so I’m trying to catch up.”
His gaze lands on the Comedy opened in front of me. He leans in, getting a glimpse of the text. “Dante, Kara? Really?”
I close the book with a clap. “Yes, really. Why do you care?”
He answers with a bored shrug. “For someone who hates being a demon, you’re weirdly fascinated with it, big sister.”
I pause. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? You’ve spent the past few years basically nerding out on our ancestry.”
“Classics is much broader than that.”
He lifts a brow in challenge.
I keep my lips pinched shut, but I’ve had the same internal discussion with myself more than once. Something drew me to the classics. The fairy tale histories. The actual histories. Like a strange puzzle of myth and truth that no one will ever be able to truly piece together. But trying to is half the allure. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so dedicated these last four years. And now I have an even better reason than most.
“So,” Jaden cuts in, interrupting my thoughts. “I stopped over at Mom’s when I got back and heard a very interesting story from Gio.”
I huff. “You can call him Grandfather, you know.”
“Uh, right. Anyway, this obviously explains why you’re getting more Page Six real estate than I have lately.”
“What?” I frown hard but finish with a huge eye roll. “That is so not true.”
“Actually, it is,” he replies. “But it’s not a competition. I hate those guys. But still…”
“What?” I prod.
“Damn, Kara.” His chuckle is dry and only half humorous. “What kind of mess are you in?”
A sigh pours out of me. “A pretty big one, I guess.”
He nods, his expression a little more solemn. “A demigod, huh?”
I twist my lips. “That would seem to be the case.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Are you implying I went out looking for this kind of trouble?”
“Of course not.” He tackles the mess of his hair with one hand, scrubbing haphazardly through it. As the strands fall back into their same artful mess, he lifts his wrist to glance at his diamond-studded watch. “Anyway, I just thought I’d check in and see how you were doing, but I’ve got to run. I have plans tonight.”
“So do I. And a ton more of this.” I wave my hand over the mountain of reading I still need to catch up on.
Jaden’s back on his feet and jabs his hands into his back pockets and shrugs with purpose. “So…are you going to be all right with all this? Can I help with anything?”
For a second, I’m not sure how to respond. His halfhearted query is more concern than he’s probably ever shown me, but it’s dripping with how much he doesn’t want to have to offer up any actual help, which would interrupt his streak of carefree living.
“I’m good.” I smile kindly, grateful that Jaden thought to stop by at all. Then I think of Kell…and last night’s friction between us. “Hey, before you go, can I ask you something?”
He slips his phone out of his pocket with a small sound of acknowledgment.
“When we were little… Do you remember when Gramps would help take care of us?”
He nods slowly, clearly taking care not to make eye contact. “A little.”
I pause, weighing my next words. Not for Jaden’s sake but so I can get the answer I’m looking for. I already know Jaden doesn’t care.
“Do you think that Gramps favored one of us?”
He snorts out a laugh, finally lifting his gaze all the way up to mine. “So now that he’s escaped the backyard bungalow, you’re getting insecure about who he likes best?”
I frown. “No.”
He laughs again. This time, there’s real humor in the sound. “Then what? I don’t get it. Why do you care after all this time? If he were playing favorites, it’s pretty obvious who would be at the top of that list.”
I sigh and shake my head. “It’s nothing. You’re right. It was a stupid thing to ask.”
He studies me for a long moment and seems to reach some inner resolution for his effort. “Listen, I don’t remember much about him. By the time I could start latching on to memories, he was out of the picture for the most part.”
He’s right, of course. I have more memories of Gramps than the others, but even those early ones are few and sketchy. For the first time in my life, the realization has me asking myself why.
Why was Gramps entrusted with us as children and then suddenly exiled from our lives? Why were we threatened with my mother’s wrath if we dared show him any kindness? Why weren’t we ever given the causes for the threats?
What happened?
I ruminate on that as I walk Jaden to the door. His canary-yellow Lamborghini is parked in the drive. He jostles his keys in his hands a few times, pausing at the threshold before turning back to me.
“Okay, now I have a question for you,” he ventures.
I fight to school my features. Knowing Jaden—though I really don’t anymore—this might be anything. “Hmm?” I answer noncommittally.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Oh.” My surprise is evident as my brain scrambles through the agenda. “I’ll be at the university’s Gold Circle Dinner.”
He clucks his tongue. “Right. Forgot about that. Thankfully I got out of that one.”
“Lucky you,” I tease, even though I have plenty of good reasons to suffer through it.
He chuckles. “I’ve got a callback for some angsty new show they’re putting together at Fox, but afterward I’m headed to a little get-together at Rerek’s place.”
I stifle a groan. Barely. “You’re still hanging out with Rerek? Does Mom know?”
“She knows what she needs to know,” he replies while finger combing his hair via his reflection in the window. “Besides, Rerek’s mellowed out a bit. I swear.”
“Define ‘a bit.’ And define ‘a little get-together.’” Because in Rerek’s world, that means a head count anywhere between fifty and five hundred.
“It’ll be fun.” More of his calculated subject dodging. “And it’s going to be a nice night. We’re hoping to have a bonfire on the beach, since Rerek’s place is right on the sand. You should stop by after the dinner if you want. Bring the new guy.”
I find myself warming at the offer. More because I can feel him actually…trying. I’m not entirely sure why he is, but I’m happy that he is. Because only days ago I chose Maximus over a life that I would have shared with Arden but also with my family. Now it seems like maybe I can have Maximus and keep my family, strange as they all may be.
I smile and give Jaden a hug. He’s tense for a second before returning the embrace.
“Thank you for the invite. I’ll be there,” I promise.
Chapter Seventeen
Maximus
I nod up at Reg in gratitude as she sets a second cup of coffee in front of me. Without words, she knows how much I need a liquid recharge of what she calls the “Sleepless in Maximus Special.” It’s appropriate on days after I’ve slept three hours and then gone to the gym just as long. This is the first time she’s ever dosed me for the opposite. I’m learning, with fast and furious agony, tha
t god-booze hangovers are not consequences to tempt.
Does Z feel this way too?
I don’t want to know the answer to that. Not that I can spare an extra brain cell for the duty.
With the remaining three cells that are actually functioning, I focus on what to say next to Reg. We’re settled on a couple of couches in the shop’s back corner, the spot they cleared so Piper Blue could hold court with fans and press a few weeks ago. I can’t believe it’s really been less than a month since the night of that party. Those first moments I pressed in on Kara over in the classics section and realized that our chemistry was more than a fluke thing were undeniable—and incredible. At once, I saw that she recognized the same thing. That was the first night I felt her spirit tug on the middle of my soul, waking me up to how incomplete it really was.
Those memories are my strength now. Reminders of the destiny we’ve honored despite the costs are validation that we’ve embarked on the right climb together—and though the summit is still shrouded, it’s there. And when we get there together, there’ll be light. So much blinding, beautiful light.
I have to keep believing that…
“So the father god finally sussed it all out.”
Though Reg’s remark drips with dread that actually makes me feel a little defensive for Z, I’m thankful she’s spoken first.
“I’d been afraid of that,” she grumbles and downs a big chug from her own mug.
From here, I can smell the bourbon she’s added to her tea, affirming how wise the woman really is.
“From the moment I saw how dotty you were for the demon…and then on Sunday night, when the freak storm hit…”
“You figured it out then?” I lean forward as she drops her head into a hand. “And you still decided not to talk to me about it?”
She straightens quickly. “What should I have said? ‘I hope you’re enjoying this fine weather, love. Oh, and PS: You’re a demigod who likely just screwed a demon.’”
I bristle. “I didn’t screw her.”
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