Chase tapped his head. “Built-in emotional homing device.”
“Forgot about that.” Archer plopped exhausted into the armchair.
“What on earth happened?” My curiosity was piqued, but my maternal instincts overcame me, and I began to pamper him. I wrapped him in a blanket, made him tea, and put on soup as he explained the attack by Zelus.
I was appalled. I was disgusted. How could Zeus attack without a warning or an ultimatum? He promised us time with the Callie situation, but here he was, sending Zelus to assassinate the mortal. We all were similarly astonished.
“This is unacceptable,” Chase growled, standing up and taking out his cell. He dialed a number and walked into the other room.
“Is Callie okay?” I asked Archer, running my hand through his hair. He felt a bit warmer, the heat eradicating the last remnants of Zelus’s poison.
“Uncle D and Mnemosyne wiped her memory clean and fabricated new ones. So, I guess she is technically okay and still ignorant of the truth,” he said quietly. I could tell he wasn’t happy at all about altering Callie’s mind.
“It’s what’s best.”
“How so? She knows nothing, and he still tried to kill her.”
Before I could give him feigned assurances that everything would be fine, Chase’s angry voice distracted both of us. With his voice raised, we could hear a muffled but intelligible side of the argument.
“C’mon, Dad, you expect me to believe that? I may not be Athena here, but I do have a brain. You had Zelus deliberately attack her in broad daylight, in front of mortals… He attacked my son! You should see the state of him!… Lies! I’ll believe it if you tell that story to Apollo… Yeah, I didn’t think so… You promised me time to sort all this out… I am sorting it out… You aren’t to hurt a hair on that girl’s head, you hear me?… If anything happens to my son again, there will be a war like Olympus has never seen.” Then Chase’s voice was quiet and muffled, but I had a feeling the conversation turned to my son.
Archer’s eyes went wide, frightened.
“Only your father can talk to Zeus himself that way and get away with it. He will sort everything out, Archer. If anyone can, he can.” I tried to convince myself of the same. I could not believe the gall Ares had in standing up to his father, even going so far as to tell him what to do. It made my blood heat up with passion, thinking of how utterly powerful a being he was. He could defeat Zeus himself; I was sure of that.
Chase came back out, ranting about how Zeus claimed he’d sent Zelus just to spy, not to attack, and that, apparently, Zelus’s attack was unsanctioned. “I know now what he is up to here. I accused him of it, and he was livid. He’s agreed to not attack the girl unless given a reason, and thankfully, he has agreed not to send any more spies.”
“What was he up to?” Archer asked, perplexed.
“The Charities, your…siblings, and then Zelus, they were sent under false pretenses; Zeus was counting on them to expose themselves to Callie,” Chase explained.
“So, then he’d have a reason to…” Archer swallowed hard.
Chase finished for him, “Zeus sent them all, while Lucien and I were occupied, in hopes to expose Callie to our world and therefore have a reason to kill her.”
I wanted to know why on Mother Gaia he’d want her dead, but the question that came out instead was, “Why does he need spies?” After all, Zeus was omniscient, always keeping tabs on where we were and what we were up to.
“That is the real question isn’t it? Dad’s sight is waning, apparently, but what that means, I have no idea,” Chase said.
The day after Archer was attacked, I found a note in my locker, which was simply Sappho’s “Hymn to Aphrodite,” signed by my “secret admirer.” Each day from then on, I received poems. Then the flowers came, little presents, and chocolates. Chase was really going all out. It became the talk of the school, and the attention from everyone was euphoric. Everybody had a guess as to who it could be, but only Dan suspected the real culprit. Dan hated Chase’s guts, and he made it clear to everyone and anyone who would listen.
Dan took me to the wretched, ridiculous homecoming dance with the cheesy gods theme. I went as myself, of course, and Dan went as Ares. Chase was livid at the imposter, but to irritate me, he took Emily, who really wasn’t too bad looking for a mortal. Emily also was a desperate flirt, and I was unsure how far Chase would take that flirtation. He might use her to anger me.
The dance was like any other of the modern hundred or so I had been to, except that the decorations were nicer, the punch was never spiked, and the coatroom was make-out central.
I was dancing cheek-to-cheek with Dan toward the end of the evening. It was utterly romantic, and I was still waiting for Dan to kiss me, since of course, I wasn’t supposed to make the move—Zeus and his silly rules to try to cut back on our mortal children. I didn’t understand him. During our days in Greece, he spoke of making more gods, of expanding, always urging us gods to have children together, and even making our halfbreeds immortal. Then he suddenly stopped. Whatever control he had over us spread to our fertility. I never heard of a full Olympian god born after the fall of Rome. And now, he offered us a baby if we complied with the Archer situation. It was tempting, yet it rankled me. Why was he so bitter that my son had found someone? In the past, he had always urged Archer to find a new love, promoting the Charities each time, but now he wanted Archer to be forever alone. Asking me to give up one child’s happiness to have another was utterly cruel and impossible to choose.
Archer was home with Callie, which worried me, but I tried to focus on the mortal in my arms. Dan licked his lips nervously. “Kiss me, you fool!” I nearly shouted. It would drive Chase mad. Maybe he’d start a scene. It was taking the warmonger longer than usual to start a fight. I attempted to make myself look even more appealing, but Dan pulled me closer to him, forcing me to rest my chin on his shoulder. So much for a kiss at the moment. For how adorable the boy was and how much he talked to the boys about his conquests, I was beginning to think it was all talk and no walk. Not that I intended to take it that far.
Suddenly, Dan let me go and turned to someone behind him. Chase stood there, his hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail. He must have tapped Dan on the shoulder.
“May I cut in?” Chase asked Dan politely.
“No, you may not,” Dan mocked him.
“Dan, play nice. It’s just a dance,” I soothed, taking up Chase’s hand.
He was so strong, so appealing in a chitóniskos, sandals, and his hoplite armor and shield. He dressed more realistic than anyone else there. Most of the boys appeared foolish, wrapped in cotton bed sheets, but Chase looked as he had over 3,300 years ago—give or take—when I first saw him in this same situation. I was at the festival Aphrodisia, the celebration held in my honor. I couldn’t help but love to see all of Athens rejoice in my splendor. I was still within my first century and was with my husband Hephie at the time, dancing with many different mortals, none of whom knew we were gods. Hephie, being lame, allowed me my fun, but then I saw Ares from across the courtyard, and I knew instantly that he was one of us. He didn’t stop staring at me as I danced, and then finally cut in to dance with me…
“How is my father?” he asked in the present, replicating the day we met as closely as possible. I clutched his arm, realizing what he was up to, pulling at my heartstrings with the past.
“Your father?” I asked, playing along, trying to recall the words from such a long-ago scene. I found, because it meant so much, it had been ingrained in my memory. “You must be the elusive Ares.”
“And I know who you must be. They didn’t lie,” he whispered.
“Who, and what did they say?” I stared at him, mesmerized as I had been when I was still naïve in godly terms.
“Everyone, and how you are the most beautiful being to grace this earth.”
I didn’t blush as much as I had back then. I looked deeply into Chase’s eyes; the soft glow was building within them
, the trait that stole my heart—to see, to actually see the love he had for me without having to wait for words. It was the same trait my darling boy had. I remembered how his eyes had glowed during the first hours of his life as he beheld his mother with filial love. I knew then that he was Ares’s child, and I never knew a love stronger than being loved by the product of love. I swallowed the guilty lump in my throat. I had given my son’s girlfriend a hard time, when Callie must’ve felt this love when his eyes lit up, just like I felt staring into the depths of Chase’s eyes.
I turned away from those enticing eyes. He chuckled, pulling me tightly to him.
“Your puppy looks awfully angry,” Chase whispered.
“That’s not in the script,” I bantered.
“Adjustment of terms for different times and significant others. What had I called Hephie then?”
“Mmm…my minotaur troll, was it? You were mean,” I pouted.
“Aroha, you should leave all this behind and run away with me…again.” He smirked, his eyes even brighter.
“Give all this up? Never,” I mocked. Back in the day, I’d meant it. I’d loved my ugly little broken husband. Poor Hephie. He had adored me, worshipped me, and given me everything I ever wanted at the time. But it had been Ares who’d made me a mother and introduced me to lust and longing.
“It’s not working, is it?” Chase dropped the charade.
“It’s not exactly the same,” I told him. “But I wouldn’t say it is completely failing.”
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
“Here?” I asked, astonished. Dan was staring at me.
“Later then?” Chase asked, disappointed.
“Go to the apartment. Wait for me there. I’ll ditch the mortal,” I told him, trying desperately not to kiss him as his eyes glowed a bright amber. “Enough.” I pushed him away.
“What’s wrong? Can’t you take it?” Chase smiled smugly, well aware I couldn’t, that he drove me crazy.
I could hardly pay proper attention to Dan the rest of the evening. After the dance, a bunch of people were headed to a late-night breakfast diner. I lied to Dan, telling him I felt sick, so he took me home. He pulled up outside my building and put the car into park.
“Aroha, do you like Chase?” he asked. From his tone, I could tell it took all his courage to ask it.
“What?” I played confused.
“Do you like him? ‘Cause he likes you.”
“What, are you promoting him or something?” I teased him. “I like you, Dan,” I lied to see if he’d ever step up to kiss me. After it was all over, I’d get Archer to make him love someone else; for Archer’s sake, he should choose Callie and save himself. Something told me if we hadn’t been in NY, Dan and Callie would’ve made a good couple.
Dan leaned over and finally kissed me, a slobbery, terrible, hormonal kiss. I kissed him back, regardless of being completely turned off. He went for more slobbery kisses, but I pushed him away gently.
“Don’t push your luck, Dan,” I told him coolly, climbing out of the car. He sighed in frustration.
“Thanks for tonight. See you tomorrow,” I told him, walking inside. I was leaving him angry and frustrated, but I’d end the relationship tomorrow.
I opened the door to see Chase sitting patiently on the sofa, carving something over the trashcan. He smiled and held up his finger for me to be quiet. He put down the knife, blew the dust off a little marble figurine, and stood up.
“The kids are asleep,” he whispered, nodding to Archer’s room. His bedroom door was ajar, the television still on, the light flickering against the walls.
Chase walked into Archer’s bedroom like it was his own, with the completed figurine in his hand. It was the shape of an archer with his bow poised for action. I stopped in the doorway as Chase went all the way in. Archer was asleep, still fully dressed on top of the sheets, his arms around a sleeping Callie. They looked like two beautiful angels asleep. I hated to admit it, but Callie was a beautiful girl. They were peaceful and innocent. Perhaps my Archer was being a good boy after all.
Chase placed the figurine on Archer’s nightstand and touched his head gently. Archer stirred a little, burrowed his face in Callie’s hair, and sighed, not waking up. Chase tiptoed to me, shut off the TV, and then closed the door on them.
“What time is her curfew?” Chase asked.
I shrugged, taking a guess. “Midnight?” She usually left around then on weekend nights. “He’s not a child you need to protect anymore. He’ll get her home or deal with a measly, frail mortal father.”
He sighed, pulling me into his arms. He stopped abruptly. “Are you crying?”
“No,” I said sheepishly, wiping away the evidence. I hadn’t realized I had gotten emotional until he said it.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.
“I don’t know.” I tried to suppress my silly tears. “You playing the family man, I guess.”
“I’m not playing anymore,” he said seriously. He grabbed my face gently in his hands and leaned in to kiss me.
I backed away.
“What?” he entreated me.
“Dan kissed me.”
“He couldn’t have done it right, or you wouldn’t be up here with me.” He smirked confidently and wrapped me in his arms. His kisses were like coming home, and I couldn’t refuse them, kissing him back.
“Stay,” I pleaded, my weakness for him bubbling to the surface. I was crumbling to his every whim.
“That was a short hunt,” he teased. “Easy prey.”
“Not if I refuse to make it public,” I bantered back, walking toward my bedroom. I looked over my shoulder at him, seeing his eyes smolder with their amber light.
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee and frying bacon. I stretched in my bed, not wanting to get up, but the smell was intoxicatingly inviting. I rolled over to see if Chase had stayed. He was gone, and there was no note. I smiled regardless and smelled the pillow he had slept on—musky earth and sweet nectar, the smell of a god. He had wowed me last night and not in the naughty way. We cuddled and kissed and talked until the sun was about to rise. Chase claimed everything had to go in the right order, the right way; he truly believed we never worked out because Archer had been born from our affair, the child before the marriage. He could have said the same about the other children, the ones we lost, but he didn’t bring them up. He wanted to do it right this time. He would woo me, remarry me, and then the baby. I had never seen him so sentimental, so restrained, so…in love with me. No, he had always loved me to distraction. What was missing was his love of war, conflict, fighting. He was a lover right now, not a fighter.
I padded barefoot out into the living room, expecting to see Miss Whittle cooking breakfast. Instead, I saw Chase, clad in sweat pants and a T-shirt that were much too tight for his large muscles, ones belonging to Archer, I assumed. He glanced up at me and smiled.
“Cooking?” I was skeptical. He had never been known as a good cook. In fact, he was challenged in all that was culinary.
“Bacon sandwiches?” he asked innocently. “Can’t manage eggs…yet.”
“It sounds perfect.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and kissed his cheek gently. I sat at the table. “Where’s Miss Whittle?” I mused.
“Called her, pretending to be your father, and told her to have the day off because you two would be at my place,” he told me, picking bacon out and burning his hand. He hesitated, waiting for it to heal, and did it again.
“Darling, use some kind of utensil,” I scolded.
“Oh, yeah.” He pulled a fork out as if I were a genius. How did he ever manage on his own? Lots of servants, I supposed.
“Are we spending the day at your place?” I countered.
“If you’d like,” he mused in an easygoing tone. This felt so easy, so right, like a perfect household. For the first time, I began to feel optimistic about this venture. It could work this time.
Archer came groggily out of his
room, clad in his pajama pants, looked at me, then at Chase, turned, and went back into his room, slamming the door.
“What was that about?” Chase asked me.
“Just because we’re starting up where we left off, I hope it doesn’t mean he is. He was a nightmare through the first set of teen years.” I sighed, sipping my coffee.
Archer came out, his face astonished. He gawked at me, then at Chase, opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and went back into his room. The door didn’t slam this time.
“How much nectar whiskey did Dionysus give him the other day? It’s like he’s still drunk,” Chase asked, his tone only half joking.
“Of course he’s not.” I laughed. “Archer!”
He took a second but came out.
“It’s not what you think,” Chase told him.
“Yeah, sure.” Archer sat down uncomfortably at the table.
“I told you your father and I were going to start over again. I warned you,” I said.
“I didn’t think you were serious,” he muttered, put out about something.
Chase began, “And you’re going to have a brother or sister—”
“I see you didn’t waste any time,” Archer interrupted.
“Archer, shut up for a second,” I scolded him.
“Here, put that in your mouth as a muzzle.” Chase put a plate of food in front of Archer.
He squinted in bewilderment at the sandwich, then at Chase but picked it up and took a bite out of it.
“No brother or sister yet. Perhaps a few years from now,” I told him. I didn’t want to think about it. Chase and I hadn’t truly talked about it. I should’ve told him the baby hinged on getting my men in line, keeping him from Afghanistan and Archer from Callie. “I’m not blind, Archer. You’re restless. You’re getting ready to leave again.”
Chase sat down with our food.
Archer swallowed. “I don’t know what I’m doing now,” he murmured, not meeting my eyes.
“What do you mean?” I searched his features for answers and, finding none, waited for him to speak.
Quiver Page 22
