by Staci Hart
“Don’t, Jon. Just don’t.”
“Please, Josie. Let me in.”
“Never again. Leave me alone,” was her answer, and she flew out of the station, her red hair swinging behind her like a pendulum, marking every step until she was out of sight.
Jon’s mind twisted around the exchange as he made his way toward the exit. None of it had gone as planned. In fact, he once again found himself sitting in the middle of the worst possible outcome. That conversation had set him back who knew how long. His eyes were on the ground, so focused on her that he slammed shoulders with a cop walking by. When he snapped to and noticed who it was, he realized that the collision was no accident.
Josie’s brother, Paul, glared at him. “What’d you say to her?”
Jon smiled cheerfully. “Hey, Paul. I’m good. How are you?”
Paul’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t be a dick, Jon.”
Jon took a wild shot, hoping he’d catch Paul off guard. “Who’s Rhodes?”
Paul folded his arms across his chest. “Corey Rhodes? Did she tell you about him?”
Bingo. “A little. What have you got?”
“Like I’d tell you, asshole.”
“Look, I don’t want to upset her, but she won’t even talk to me.”
Paul pointed at him. “You don’t have any right to talk to her.”
Jon shook his head. “Everyone keeps telling me that. Thing is, that won’t stop me from trying.”
Paul paused for a beat, watching him with suspicious eyes. “What’s your angle, Landreaux?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never fought for what you wanted, Campbell. I’m trying to give her space, but I’m not gonna give up.” It was the honest truth, the only way Jon figured he could ever win back everyone’s respect.
But Paul only laughed. “It’s too late for you, man. You may as well pack it up and go home. Josie doesn’t change her mind once she’s set it to something.”
Jon slapped him on the arm with a wink. “Thanks for the tip.”
Paul only scowled as Jon turned and left the station.
Corey Rhodes.
Jon whistled as he headed down the sidewalk. He had a name.
Josie made it all the way to her car before the hot tears in her eyes spilled over. She gripped the top of the steering wheel and rested her forehead on the back of her hands, unable to stop the sobs that fought their way out of her.
She’d been trying to keep Jon away, knowing he would press her, knowing he would eventually push, and knowing she couldn’t handle it when he did. All he had to say was Anne’s name, and the house of cards fell. That single question threw her off her axis, and she felt like she was flying into the sun.
Why did he have to come back?
It had been three years since he left her, three years of hating and hurting. On the outside, she was fiery and irreverent, but in her heart she was broken, hurt far worse than she could even admit to herself. She hadn’t been able to understand how he could do it, why he would leave her so cruelly. But buried even deeper was the truth. She believed she’d found love, a forever love to carry her through the end of her days, just to discover that her love wasn’t returned.
All of her old memories, things she thought were dead and buried had climbed out of their graves and were out for blood. She could fight them with every weapon she possessed, but they wouldn’t stop. They’d never stop.
Seeing him again shocked her, but learning the truth about why he’d left cut her off at the knees. She felt betrayed and angry, but worst of all, she felt like a fool. Her anger had cooled over the years, turned hard and black as stone, but his return split her open again, and she found that the pain had never left her. It was there all along, just under the surface, boiling and rolling and waiting for the time it could break out and take her over.
Josie took a deep breath and sat up, wiping her tears away with the flats of her index fingers.
Jon didn’t really want her. If he had, he would have handled things differently. Maybe he wouldn’t have left her so easily, wouldn’t have chosen someone else. It didn’t matter that he and Tori weren’t together. The bottom line was that he left. He made a choice, and that decision left her no choice at all. She had no say, only had to deal with the fallout on her own, alone.
If he had only told her from the beginning why he left. If only she’d had a choice. She imagined how different things could have been, but it only broke her heart again.
Josie sniffled and turned on her car, then pulled away and took off across the river to tail Rhodes, hoping that the routine would give her some purchase against the muddy hill her memories dragged her down.
———— Olympus ————
Apollo’s eyes were on the stars that evening as he sat on Artemis’ stone perch, waiting for her. He hadn’t seen her, or anyone really, not since Daphne was returned to him. When Artemis and Aphrodite competed, it was always tense, though he was usually standing right behind his sister. He didn’t know his place anymore, caught somewhere between the two goddesses, his sister and the one who gave him back his love.
He produced a lyre from the air and lay back, considering how much his life had shifted. After thousands of years, Daphne was his again, released from the curse that kept them apart. His rivalry with Dita was dead and gone, but she paid a high price for her decision to help him. The guilt he felt over being the cause of her pain, the reason that she ultimately lost both her lovers was more than he could bear.
Apollo owed Aphrodite so much and was determined to pay that debt, in full, with interest. Bridging the gap between the goddesses was the least he could do.
He pictured Dita’s face as Ares pinned her to the wall with her eyes closed, her face dark, the shade of her skin sick and wrong. Ares, bulging and red, the look on his face saying he would tear her apart before he would lose her. There was fear in her eyes when she spoke of him still, and the whole circumstance was Apollo’s own doing.
“Brother.” Artemis laid a hand on his forearm, and he jumped. Tears filled her dark eyes. “Are you all right? Your song …”
Apollo took a breath and sat, laying his lyre beside him, running his fingers down the strings before turning to her with a smile, his heart still heavy in his chest.
“I’m fine. Just thinking, that’s all.”
Artemis sat next to him and leaned back to look at the moon. “Have you been waiting long?”
“No, just a little while.”
“I have not seen you of late. Is all well?”
“Quite.” Apollo answered. “I just wanted to check on you. How goes the competition?”
“Well enough. Josie wants nothing to do with Jon, and each time they see one another, her agitation grows and festers. He set himself back today by pressing her. I do not believe that Aphrodite will have enough time to convince Josie to overcome her feelings.”
Her certainty irritated him. “You’d be surprised.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
He redirected her. “What’s your plan for Josie?”
“Watch. Do my best to keep her away from Jon. I can get her out of New York if he should happen to gain any ground with her. But I care little for the humans or their relationship. My only motivation is to beat Aphrodite.”
“You never have liked her.”
“No, and until recently I was not the only one.” Artemis didn’t look at him, but shot the words at him still. “I cannot understand how you can forgive her. She kept Daphne from you for eons.”
“Because I killed Adonis.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did by proxy,” he volleyed.
“He was a thorn in my side.”
“Still, he didn’t deserve to die. Aphrodite gave Daphne to me and at great cost to her. She did right by me, knowing she would lose in the end.” He wanted her to look him in the eye, to see the truth. To convince her, though he knew better.
Artemis said nothing, only scowled up at the
silver moon.
“What else do you blame her for?” Apollo asked, though he already knew the answer.
Her lips pressed together, and he wished she could be honest with herself. With him.
“Orion?”
“Please.” She finally glanced over at him, though her words were full of contempt. “It’s been thousands of years.”
“That wasn’t really an answer.”
“Love is a ridiculous sentiment, fueled by hormones. It compromises you, creates a weakness that wasn’t there before. No,” she scoffed, “I have no need for love.”
“Some would say that love is instinctive, which is something you value quite highly.”
Her lips bent in a frown. “I do not wish to discuss this, Apollo.”
“I know you don’t, Artemis. But I think you should.”
She sat and hooked her arms around her knees, turning her eyes back to the stars. “He was taken from me, and when I lost him, I lost a part of myself. The part that loved him. Had I never loved him, I would not still feel the sting.” Her eyes were empty when they met his again. “So forgive me for not feeling as you do about Aphrodite. Her pithy games do not interest me, but I will beat her and be justified.”
He shook his head, trying to understand. “What good does it do to blame Aphrodite?”
“It gives me comfort.” She stood and looked down at him with an outward calm that he knew to be a façade. “I can see where your loyalties lie, and they are not with me.”
“Artemis, you are my sister. Nothing will come between us.”
“That is not a promise you can make.” She turned and climbed down the rock, and he watched as she nocked an arrow and disappeared into the wood.
Apollo stood and tilted his face to the moon. He knew each ring and shadow that marked its surface by heart, just as he knew his sister, the bull-headed creature who lived in a self-imposed prison under the illusion of happiness in solitude. But he remembered another Artemis, the goddess before Orion who was joyful and compassionate, full of youth and life, and he wondered how he didn’t notice until far too late that she was gone.
Artemis pushed through the brush, not caring how much noise she made.
She was betrayed by her brother.
As grateful as she was that Apollo had Daphne again, she mourned the loss of her partner against Aphrodite. Artemis couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom how thousands of years of anger could be wiped away with a single act, no matter how noble. It should have been set to rights thousands of years before, though that infraction was forgotten by all but her, it seemed.
And Aphrodite. They were as separate as the sea and the sky, the two goddesses. Neither valued what the other held dear. Aphrodite put her stock in love, which was nebulous and vague. Artemis believed in logic, what she could see, smell, touch. But logic rarely applied to love.
At least she still had the competition. Aphrodite had been absent, and Artemis could only hope that the goddess of love was obsessing over the mirror. Somehow still, she nudged Jon into the station, but that ultimately worked to Artemis’ advantage, sparking a fight, pushing Josie over the edge. Jon had no chance, and neither did Aphrodite.
If the tide did change, though, Artemis would be ready.
Dita shifted on the couch, resituating herself in an attempt to get comfortable. She had barely moved for almost twenty-four hours and had run the gamut of emotions from joy to tears to tear-inducing joy as she watched Adonis live his ghost life, moving from one task to the next, all the things he loved.
Except her.
She touched the mirror where Adonis lay in the sun, his skin wet from the dip he’d taken in the river. His eyes were closed, a content smile played on his lips, and his hands were tucked behind his head. The broad muscles of his arms and chest were perfect, and she could see every ripple and line.
It was the perfect distraction, really. It scratched two itches, her loneliness and her denial.
Her neck ached, and her stiff legs burned when she flattened them out. She wondered absently when she had eaten last. She hadn’t slept, only nodded off a few times to be awoken by her nightmares, but she couldn’t bear to put the mirror down, couldn’t even tear her eyes away.
Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food, then lurched when she considered going upstairs to get something to eat. A feeling of disconnected unease hung over her, the kind that accompanied a binge, especially one that was forbidden. The feeling of knowing she was wrong, but deciding to do it anyway in private, in secret. Knowing that if anyone knew, she would be judged, and with good reason. But she couldn’t leave, didn’t want to miss anything. Didn’t want to face anyone, afraid that they would somehow know what she’d done, what she was doing.
Even more than that, she didn’t want to see Ares. She hadn’t seen him since the first day, and the stress of that had been too much, the anticipation leaving her shell-shocked. If he got her alone, he would corner her. She knew he would, the first chance he got. She was definitely not ready for that.
What if she found that she still wanted him? How could she live with herself? And if they fought, if she tried to walk away, would he hurt her? She didn’t know for sure, and didn’t want to find out. But she had to eat, and by the noises her stomach made, it would need to be soon.
It’ll just be a few minutes. Just eat, and then you can come right back. Maybe the break will do you good.
Dita took a long last look at Adonis before she laid the mirror on her coffee table, tossed her blanket off, stood, and made for the elevator. She stepped inside, and her finger hovered over the lobby button as she contemplated heading to the underworld to ask Perry to go with her.
It’ll be fine. I’m sure he won’t be there. And if he is, I’ll just leave and come back later, so stop being a pussy, and hit the fucking button. She rolled her eyes and hit the L.
Dita didn’t remember a time where she’d been more needy, and was doing her best to handle her shit. Her best was not even close to good enough.
The elevator opened up to the lobby, and she made it to the refrigerator just as her stomach folded in on itself. She walked to the island with a plate of ambrosia, turning it into a huge hamburger and spicy fries. She was salivating. Until the elevator dinged.
Her eyes flew to the door where Ares and Hera stood chatting. Dita froze for a nanosecond, then grabbed her plate and hauled ass around the corner, just outside a small sitting room.
The sound of her heart in her ears was almost deafening, and she took a deep breath, annoyed with herself for being so anxious. She felt like she was strung out, though she supposed in a way she was.
I have got to get sleep and food before I have a heart attack.
She caught another whiff of her burger, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Figuring that the sitting room was unoccupied, she hoped she could get a few minutes to hide and snarf her food, and that in that time, Ares and Hera would have moved on, and she could slink back to her room in peace.
As she neared the door, she heard her name and stopped dead.
“You don’t say.” Pistis, the goddess of trust and good faith, sounded appalled.
“That’s what I heard. Ares was mad because she was banging Apollo,” Zelos, god of jealousy and zeal, said, and Dita could hear that he was smiling.
“Get out,” she heard Pistis gasp. “Poor Daphne.”
“One of the maenads told me that Dita’s been going to the big orgies they have in their quarters,” Zelos added.
“Oh, I heard that too. Those parties get so weird,” Pistis replied.
“Well, Dita always has gotten around,” Pheme, the goddess of fame and rumor said with a snicker. “I mean, with everyone except her husband, that is.”
Zelos giggled. “And I heard that she’s been sneaking up to Ares’ room ever since she came back from Greece.”
Pistis sounded sad. “How could she ever be with him after what he did to her?”
Pheme laughed. “Have you seen him? He could take h
is anger out on me any day of the week.”
“Maybe she’s just not woman enough for him.” Zelos’ voice dripped with contempt.
That’s it. Dita stepped into the threshold. “For fuck’s sake, you assholes don’t honestly believe that, do you?”
Three faces turned to her. Pistis turned the color of a spring bloom. “Gods, Aphrodite. No, of course not, not if you say it never happened.”
“It never happened,” she said through her teeth.
Zelos crossed his long legs and pursed his lips, eyeing her.
“You don’t believe me, Zelos? Because I will wrath that look off your face so fast—”
He pointed at Pheme. “Pheme started it.”
Pheme shot him a look before she stood and flipped her glossy, blond hair over her shoulder. “You know how it is, Dita. The rumor mill never stops.”
“How could it when you’re fueling it with your fat fucking mouth?”
Pheme gave her a tight smile. “I’m going to assume that your distress made you say that—”
“I know you’re not about to threaten me, because I will end you.”
“Now, now,” Pheme reneged and patted Dita’s arm, her face soft and tone soothing, “let’s not be hasty.”
Dita looked down at Pheme’s hand, then met her eyes. She was certain her own were glowing, and a breeze smelling of roses blew through the room. Pheme dropped her hand and took a step back.
“Listen up, all three of you. And especially you two.” Dita made a ‘v’ with her fingers and pointed at Pheme and Zelos. “You had best shut your mouths, or I will seriously make your lives miserable. Zelos, don’t think I don’t know about your little penguin phobia.”
He turned to Pheme, whose mouth hung open. “What? Penguins are unnatural. It’s like a fish-bird.” He shuddered.
“I can make them look really sexy. I mean really.” Dita watched him swallow.
“And, Pheme, just remember that I can make you fall in love with anyone. Like maybe Priapus?” Pheme’s eyes went wide. Priapus had the biggest penis, proportionally, of any god or beast. It actually dragged the ground. He couldn’t even wear pants. Dita watched her reaction and continued. “I’m pretty sure his giant dick would split you like a melon. What would the rumor mill think of that, I wonder?”
