Paper Fools (Hearts and Arrows Book 1)

by Staci Hart

  She shifted her weight to roll him over, and they did roll … straight off the bed. Their arms and legs flailed, and they landed on the floor with a solid thump and a burst of laughter.

  Perry and Dita laughed so hard, there was no sound, only a couple of wrenched faces and hysterical tears.

  Perry tried to talk, but could barely catch her breath. “He … Gods … he’s … whew. Oh Gods, that is the best ever.”

  Dita wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “So awesome.”

  “I can’t believe I almost missed seeing that. I haven’t laughed like that in forever.”

  “I know.” She picked up the remote and turned the television off. “From here, the rest of it is pretty standard.”

  Perry let out a satisfied breath, her cheeks pink. “They’re a fantastic secret weapon.”

  Dita leaned back in her chair. “I’m cautiously optimistic. Roe and Kara have been busting their asses to try to figure out how to get Lex and Dean in the same room again. If they can pull it off, I think I’ve got this.”

  “Do you think Apollo has any more tricks up his sleeve?”

  “I don’t know. But if I lose here in the last leg, I’m going to go primordial.”

  Perry shrugged. “You could always use one of your stockpiled tokens.”

  “No way. Not until I’m out of options. I’ll never hear the end of it if I call in a favor, but I’m not going to sacrifice Lex and Dean.”

  “Aw, Dita. You’re such a mush.”

  “They’re meant for each other. And I should know. I’ll do what I have to do to make it happen.” She looked back in on Lex and hoped the pieces would all into place.

  Apollo sat on the floor of his bathroom, digging through the trash can, rummaging through toilet paper and Q-tips, looking for a token. It was the last room to search in his apartment, and he was desperate.

  His plan had hinged on Dita not figuring out that Travis was the object of the prophecy until it was too late, never even considering that she would make the prophecy come true. But, as usual, she’d managed to turn it all around on him, he had been dumb enough to let it happen.

  So all he had left was a Hail Mary.

  He needed a favor, but tokens weren’t easy to come by. Not only was it decades between his turns, but he just wasn’t deceitful enough to pull it off when his time came. He took most things in life at face value because that was what he gave, which was why he lost. A lot. And almost all the tokens he had earned, he’d spent, though he knew he had a few spares, if he could find them.

  So far, he’d found two.

  The first he’d found in his couch cushions. When he’d reached between the cushions, he’d grimaced as crumbs stuck under his nails. But when his fingertips had brushed a token, “Aha!” bubbled out of his mouth, and he’d grinned.

  Until he’d seen it.

  Glowing molten white lava swirled inside. Apollo had rolled his eyes. So much for that. Heff would never help him beat Dita, no way. Apollo had stuffed the useless thing into his pocket.

  He’d found the second token when he dumped out the magazine rack in his bathroom. The glass sphere had rolled across the floor and hit the floorboard with a clink. Black fog swirled inside, and his lips had pressed into a flat line as he reached for it. Hades. He’d closed his fist around it, resisting the urge to throw it at the wall. With Perry being Dita’s best friend — and Hades being Perry’s bitch — there was no way he would help either.

  He reached the bottom of the trash can and glanced around the bathroom. He’d checked everywhere he knew to look, so he hastily cleaned up the garbage and stood to make his way back to his bedroom. Apollo looked around, his mind muddled, as he tried to remember exactly where he had already searched. He scanned the bed and the white sheets and pillows, deconstructed and lying in a heap on the floor.

  On a whim, he knelt down and pressed his cheek against the cool hardwood floor to peer under his bed. An orb rested among dust bunnies and feathers from his bedding, and his heart flipped — he reached out and inched his way under the bed with his hand outstretched, only mildly appalled by the dust getting all over his clothes.

  Inside the glass orb floated an ornate set of flapping golden wings. Hermes. Apollo slinked out from under the bed and stood. Of all the tokens he could have, these three were practically useless to him.

  As he looked at the token in his hand, he realized his plan was never going to work. But he had to try. He dusted off his sweater as he made for the elevator, looking for Hermes.

  Apollo found him in the kitchen with his Chucks propped up on the bar, texting. He didn’t look up as Apollo approached, but when Apollo placed the token on the granite bar, his flying fingers froze.

  One eyebrow rose. “And what would this be?”

  “This would be a favor. That I need. From you.”

  “Are you trying to cash this in for help in the game? Because you know how I feel about that.”

  Apollo’s face tightened. “Hermes, come on.”

  Hermes slapped his phone down on the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “Listen, the heist challenge was it for me. You assholes all helped Heff, almost every single one of you. None of you refused, so none of you get my help.”

  He sighed, knowing it was a lost cause. “You have to admit that you play dirty. It was only a matter of time until we retaliated.”

  “Well, then, I guess it’s my turn to deliver paybacks.” Hermes turned back to the phone to bang out messages with his fingers a blur.

  There was no messing with Hermes when it came to games — since he ran them — not with him being the patron of thieves and wit. Once he decided something, that was it. They’d all have to wait until his tantrum was over to get any help from him.

  Apollo picked up Hermes’s token and put it in his pocket as he turned for the elevator. Heff was next on the list of long shots.

  As he waited in the elevator, he caught his reflection in the shiny wall and frowned. He still had dust smudged on the front of his white sweater, and his blue-checkered collar poked crookedly out of the neck. When the elevator doors slid open, he smoothed his mussed hair and begged the Fates for a break.

  His heels clicked on the concrete floor of Heff’s foyer and echoed off the walls as he walked by the dark leather furniture.

  Heff came out to greet him with a greasy rag in his hand. “What can I do for you, Apollo?”

  He wore a pleasant smile as he wiped his hands on the towel, but Apollo knew right then that it was going to be impossible, despite the warm welcome.

  Heff gave Apollo a sideways look when he held up the warm, glowing token between his fingers.

  He chuckled. “I don’t suppose you want to use that against Dita, do you?”

  “I do.” He put on the most depressed face he could muster, which wasn’t hard.

  “You know I can’t help you.”

  Apollo closed his fist and dropped it to his side. “I know. Had to ask.”

  Heff inspected his fingernails as he ran the rag under them. “She’s not unbeatable, you know. But it’s not easy, and I most definitely will not stand against her. Do you have any other tokens?”

  “One more. I’m on my way there now. Hades.”

  “Ah … well, good luck with that, Apollo. You know Perry is his kryptonite, and Dita is Perry’s.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Apollo crammed the token back in his pocket and turned for the elevator.

  “Good luck,” Hephaestus called after him.

  When Apollo reached Hades, he stepped off the elevator and walked the long black marble hallway of the underworld to the living room. Apollo looked around for Cerberus. The three-headed dog’s excessive drool was murder on his clothes.

  Hades sat reading by the fire in a black pin-striped suit with his legs crossed. He looked charming, which was part of the reason he was so dangerous. You never saw Hades coming, even when you knew he was coming.

  “Apollo,” Hades said.

&n
bsp; “Hades.” Apollo sat down in the chair opposite him. “I have a favor to ask.”

  Hades set his book down in his lap. “Let’s hear it. I love a good bargain.”

  Apollo pulled the token from his pocket. The black smoke swirled fiercely inside within such close proximity to its master.

  “Ah, my token. I suppose you are looking to earn a favor for the contest? What do you have in mind?”

  “Waters of Lethe.”

  “Clever boy.” Hades’s fingers steepled as he leaned forward in his seat, his dark eyes attentive. “But there’s one problem. Waters of Lethe erases the memories of a dead soul’s life on Earth, and will work on living humans, but it’s usually only temporary. In some humans, it only lasts a matter of hours. For others, it’s permanent. Are you sure you want to use your token on something so uncertain?”

  “It’s my last shot.”

  “All right. I will give Dean the Waters of Lethe tonight.” The orb disappeared from Apollo’s hand, and Hades smiled slyly. “Anything else?”

  “Thank you, Hades.”

  “Mmhmm.” Hades had already picked up his book.

  As the doors closed on Apollo, Perry stomped into the room where Hades sat. “You did not just agree to help him, did you? Because if so, this,” she gestured to her hips, “is off limits. Indefinitely.”

  Hades rose from his chair and cupped her face, leaning down to look into her eyes with a smile. “Don’t worry. You know me better than to think I would ever do anything to upset you, don’t you?”

  She looked confused, but lit up as realization dawned on her. “Oh, you are good.”

  Dean leaned under the jackalope at The Crow Bar, wishing he were at home. Roe had dragged him out, promising that a little drink and music was what he needed. But all Dean wanted was to get back to his quiet apartment and his guitar and his solitude.

  The last time he had been to the bar was with Lex. He’d stood in that spot, and so had she — the night replayed over again in his mind, the promise of what could have been, what would never be.

  A bartender Dean hadn’t seen before took his order. The tall, devilishly handsome man wore a pin-striped shirt and suspenders, and his black hair was parted down the middle. He turned to pick through the liquor bottles on the wall and poured behind his back.

  When he turned around, he wore an odd smile. “Your drink, sir.” His words almost slid out, unnerving Dean, who reached for the offered drink.

  “Uh, thanks, man.” He turned and took a sip as he walked toward the pool table, and when he set the glass down, it was at the same wobbly table where he’d sat with Lex. Dean dropped into a chair, sagging.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over at a blond guy in a T-shirt who gave him a sympathetic look. “Still annoyed that I made you come out?”

  “I’m sorry,” Dean said, “do I know you?”

  Day Nineteen

  Dean woke slowly the next morning, blinking at his room, unsure of how he’d gotten in bed. In fact, he didn’t remember anything after getting a drink from that creepy bartender, but he didn’t feel hungover, and he wondered what the fuck had happened. He sat up fast, and his brows shot up to his hairline.

  Oh my fuck — I got roofied.

  He flipped up the covers to see if he had his clothes on from the night before. Check. A sigh blew past his lips, but he was still cautious as he slid out of bed and crept into the living room, looking around his apartment for any clues. What he found was Roe stretched out on the couch, snoring.

  Dean shook Roe’s shoulder, and he snapped to with a start.

  “Christ on a fucking bike, Dean.” Roe rubbed his eyes and forehead. Then, remembering the night before, he shot up. “Do … do you know who I am?”

  Dean eyed him, confused. “We’ve been friends since we were eight. So, yeah, I hope so.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Roe rubbed his face again. “Dude, you were wigging out last night. You kept saying that you didn’t know who any of us were and that you couldn’t remember anything. I brought you back here, hoping it would snap you out of your trance or whatever that was. I was scared shitless. I almost took you to the hospital. Spent half the night Googling spontaneous amnesia. It doesn’t exist by the way.”

  “What the fuck?” Dean sat down heavily in the armchair, his brows knitted together. “That bartender freaked me out last night. You know, the one with his hair parted down the middle?”

  “I didn’t see him. Do you think he dosed you?”

  “Was I acting dosed?”

  “No, you were acting like you’d been brained with a baseball bat and couldn’t remember how to find your ass. Man, I’m glad you’re all right because that would have really fucked up our show tonight. Do you feel okay?”

  Dean assessed himself, just to be sure, and was surprised at what he found. “I feel great, actually. Like I got the best night of sleep I’ve had in ages.”

  “I don’t know what happened, but I’m glad it’s fucking over.” Roe dragged in a breath that sounded like it weighed a hundred pounds and let it go with the subject matter altogether. “Well, you still look like shit. Will you at least take a shower today?”

  “I guess I owe you that much.”

  Roe stood and grabbed his jacket before clapping Dean on the shoulder. “Yep, you do. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Apollo cradled his head in his hands as he sat on his couch, wondering what the fuck he was going to do.

  When Dean’s memory had come back, Apollo had stormed Hades, demanding to know why the Lethe had only lasted a few hours. And Hades had replied, Because I didn’t want it to last any longer.

  Apollo could very well lose. His confidence drained out of him. And as he closed his eyes, he ran his hand over his stubbled face, trying to keep himself awake — he hadn’t slept at all.

  It wouldn’t be the first time a vision had been wrong. Not wrong, but he’d misread them before to be something they weren’t. Visions of dreams of visions, like two mirrors standing across from each other, their reflections creating an infinite corridor.

  He had come so close — but it had been so foolish to have even allowed himself to daydream. There was still a chance that the seed he’d planted in Lex’s mind would take root, but with Dita’s skills and his lack of cards to play, he wasn’t sure he could pull it off.

  And with that he knew the competition was lost, and Daphne along with it.

  Kara let herself into Lex’s apartment and walked through the living room, hoping like hell that their plan was going to work.

  “Hey, I’m in here,” Lex called from the bathroom.

  Kara found her leaning over the sink as she put on red lipstick, her hair waving down her shoulders and back. She wore high-heeled black wedge booties, and her long legs disappeared up into a flirty short black skirt.

  “Well, don’t you clean up nice? Such a pleasant change from the hobo look you’ve been working lately.”

  Lex turned to Kara and raised an eyebrow, giving her an appraising look. “Well, you’re looking mighty fine yourself.”

  Kara did a little twirl. “Yeah? Not too shabby, eh?” Her sheer tank showed her lacy black bra underneath, and her high-waisted skinny leather pants were capped off by black platform heels with tiny gold studs all over them.

  “Those shoes are killer. For real. You could do some major damage with those things,” Lex said.

  Kara laughed, and Lex turned back to her reflection.

  She tilted her head to put her earrings in and asked, “So, where to?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  Lex’s eyes narrowed as she walked out of the bathroom with her hands on her hips. “Hmm. Fishy.”

  “Oh, don’t be dramatic.” Kara threaded her arm through Lex’s. “Come on, sister. Tonight is going to be just what the doctor ordered.”

  Lex and Kara walked through the door of the club, and Lex’s brows knit together when the sound of the band hit her ears, her feet speeding up with her pulse as awareness slipped
over her.

  But when she saw him, nothing could have prepared her for the image of Dean on the stage, hanging onto his guitar like it was keeping him standing. She stopped dead in her tracks.

  Kara slammed into her. “Jesus, Lex! What the — oh.”

  Lex stood stock-still, her eyes welling with tears as she took him in.

  His eyes were squeezed shut as he leaned into the mic, his face wrenched in pain as he sang, spilling all the hurt and longing out with his hands, his voice, his heart.

  And every word was for her. Each one was hers.

  So close, reach out

  And then you disappear.

  The ghost in my mind

  I no longer fear.

  I see you, feel you,

  But you’re gone.

  So real, so far,

  I wished so long,

  But you’re gone.

  Gone, gone.

  A glimmer and then you disappeared,

  But I still see you shine

  I know you, you know me.

  Just reach out, you’re mine.

  I see you, feel you,

  But you’re gone.

  So real, so far,

  I wished so long,

  But you’re gone.

  Gone, gone.

  Her fingers pressed to her lips as a tear slipped down her cheek, her face the picture of a hundred emotions in one stunned look.

  The stone around her heart split open, cracked and crumbled, her truth flying free as she realized what she’d done, what she wanted.

  Dean.

  Even if she only had a moment. Even if she couldn’t keep him. Even if it ended in tears.

  Anything was better than nothing at all.

  When the song ended, his eyes opened and found her like he’d imagined her standing there. He was a haunted man as he set his guitar down and jumped off the stage, pushing through the crowd to run to her, to cradle her face in his hands, to reverently tilt it to his own.