Out of Excuses Aphrodite (The Goddess Chronicles Book 8)

by S. E. Babin

  "Then why are you looking at me like you want to drown me?"

  "Because you left without saying goodbye to me."

  "I left because I was about to get ran out of town by a pitchfork wielding crowd."

  "Not a single person held a pitchfork at the stadium."

  I sighed after I took a swallow of the most delicious beverage I'd had in weeks. "Semantics," I said and walked over to sink into one of my own chairs. "Let's chat."

  "Hermes is about to be deposed," she said matter-of-factly.

  I blinked at her, then shook my head, because I should have known she'd know everything that had occurred over the last few weeks. "Yep," was all I said. "Any way to prevent it?"

  "Magic 8 Ball says ask again later."

  A surprised bark of laughter escaped me. "Earth is making you sassy, Clotho."

  "No. Abby is making me sassy."

  I shrugged. "Fair enough."

  "How are you feeling?" she asked, her face a mixture of concern and awe. It wasn't often any of us managed to get pregnant, but I had a feeling numbers were going to start rising soon. Enough immortals died in the stadium that the pool of immortality should be darn near overflowing.

  "Grumpy. Hungry. Achy. Baby junior might be a dragon."

  One of her eyebrows rose. "A. Dragon?" She cocked her head to the side and waited for me to elaborate.

  "I might have gotten really angry at Hades and spat fire." I paused. "Then burned down his formal dining room."

  She blinked. "I never did like that room. It felt like Halloweentown."

  I cackled with laughter. "I said the exact same thing. Like a bad stage production of Dracula."

  "Fire, huh?" Her eyes whirled with interest. "Neither you nor Hades are particularly adept with fire are you?"

  I shrugged. "Besides the fires of Hell?"

  Clotho snorted. "Well I think he created them, but I don't know that he has to continue to maintain them. They are ever burning." She stared. "Have you seen them yet?"

  "The fires?" I asked stupidly.

  Clotho rolled her eyes. "Yes. The main part of your soon to be new home?"

  I shook my head. "We haven't gotten that far yet."

  Her gaze sharpened with concern. "There is trouble."

  It was a statement not a question so I decided silence was the better part of valor.

  "And this is why you're here. Not because you missed me."

  "Correction," I said with affront. "I missed you too." I waited a breath and mumbled, "Plus we had a tiff."

  "A...tiff?" she said with disbelief.

  "Yes. A fight. An argument."

  "A four-alarm fire," came an oh so familiar voice from behind. My shoulders stiffened even as I was annoyed at how quickly he'd come after me. I spun slowly affixing a glare to my face.

  He held his hands up in a surrender gesture. "I did not come to ask you to come back."

  I tilted my head in curiosity. "Then why are you here?"

  His eyes went that molten silver that I loved. "To tell you that I love you. And to tell you to come back to me when you are ready."

  Tears swelled in my eyes and threatened to spill over at any moment.

  With a nod, Hades disappeared from my kitchen.

  "Daaaaammmmnn," Clotho drew out. "I need to get me a man like that."

  I was still sighing like a forlorn teen girl when dinner time arrived. Stupid Hades and his stupid twenty second romantic gestures. Now all I wanted to do was get home and snuggle with him. I stabbed at the potatoes in the pan. I was a grown woman, damn it. I didn't need anyone to tell me what I could and could not do. I had been on my own for this long and I could be on my own forever if I wished to.

  But I didn't wish it. At all.

  Clotho snorted, stood, and took the spatula away from me. "If I wanted mashed potatoes, I'd have asked for them. She carefully stirred them and flipped them over to brown on the other side. "You know," she started, "you could do a lot worse than him."

  I sighed. "I know. I'm trying to prove a point."

  From the corner of my eye I saw her roll her eyes heavenward.

  "Clotho," I began in a warning tone.

  She shrugged. "All I'm saying is you should maybe listen to the guy this time instead of being all feminine hear me roar."

  My shoulders shook with laughter even as I was annoyed with her. "Maybe he should listen to me."

  Her head bobbed once. "I agree. Perhaps you should even listen to each other."

  I snagged a potholder from the top of the counter and slid it on my hand. With the other hand I opened the oven door and stepped away as steam hit me full in the face. I slid the second potholder over my other hand and reached in to grab the lasagna we'd spent the last two hours making. The smell of cheese and sauce hit me in the face and I inhaled it and sighed in relief.

  "I've missed this," I mumbled mostly to myself.

  Clotho shook her head. "Noncommunicative idiots," is what it sounded like she said, but I chose to ignore it because there was delicious food in front of me.

  "We can eat on this for days!" I declared as I reached in to cut a slice.

  Clotho smacked the top of my hand with her spatula and I jerked it away with a wounded expression. "What did you do that for?" I yelled.

  "Food, much like stubborn goddesses of love, needs to rest. If you slice into it while it's not relaxed, it will fall apart." She hitched an eyebrow up.

  I rolled my eyes. "Much like stubborn goddesses of love?"

  "Clever padawan."

  I withdrew my knife from the general vicinity of the food in fear of Clotho's lethal spatula of doom. "How long?"

  "Fifteen minutes."

  I wanted to flail around on the ground and bemoan my fate.

  Pregnancy was making me super annoying.

  Twenty minutes later because Clotho was a cruel, cruel mistress, I sliced into the lasagna and slid large pieces onto the plates Clotho laid out. I stopped at the third one and gave her a curious glance. "Why are there seven plates out?"

  She bit her lip just as the doorbell rang. I stood up straighter. "What did you do?" I muttered as I slid my apron over my head and went to answer the door.

  "It's going to be fine!" she yelled.

  When one of the Fates said something was going to be fine, it rarely ever turned out fine.

  With my heart beating a hundred miles an hour, I turned the knob to the front door and opened it.

  Atropos was the first to push her way in, followed by Lachesis, Hermes, Atlas, Artemis and...Hera.

  I stood by the door like a statue. What in the hell had Clotho done? We were either going to have a slumber party or there was going to be a murder tonight. And to be perfectly honest, I couldn't tell which way the night was going to go yet. Atropos gave me her freaky shark-toothed grin and even though it still scared me, now that I knew she could control it when she wanted to, I was no longer in any danger of peeing my pants. Lachesis offered a knowing smirk. Hermes came in with a tight smile. Artemis' eyes were shadowed, but she touched my arm as she passed, but Hera blew in like the north wind all I could think of as she passed by was...

  Winter had just arrived on my doorstep.

  Or in her case, it had already arrived and was currently blowing my hair back. Her attitude was frosty and the coolness of her stare could have given the tip of my nose frostbite. She said nothing as she passed by me, but the glare she gave me told me it would be a cold day in hell before she ever rewarded me with any warmth again.

  I guess that was fair. I did kill her husband after all.

  I stifled a deep sigh, set my shoulders, and quietly shut the door behind everyone. I stared at their retreating backs making their way into my kitchen and sent up a silent prayer to someone who no longer existed.

  I was going to murder Clotho, and even though I probably wouldn't succeed, I was going to come up with a backup plan and at least fill her bed and pillow with cockroaches.

  I'd like to strike the record and insert a new memo for
world's most awkward dinner. It was happening right now and I was an unhappy participant drowning in tense silences and angry glares. The Fates were the nicest. They had no real dog in this fight. I think they were merely here for entertainment purposes. Their entertainment. Hermes was here because he and I had some things to discuss.

  And Artie. My heart broke every time I looked at her. Her mortality was becoming more evident. I hadn't seen her since the games, but her magic had dwindled quite a bit. Her hair was a little more lackluster and her eyes a little less purple, but she was still a traffic stopping beauty. No thanks to me.

  I was the world's most terrible friend.

  And we both knew it.

  After all, what kind of friend stripped your mortality by lobbing a dangerous spell in the middle of battle with no thoughts other than anger and trying to save her own ass? I had to stifle the urge to raise my hand. I was that friend.

  Artie knew I was staring at her. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to say something to her. Anything. I wanted to throw myself at her feet and sob and cry and tell her how horribly, terribly and awfully sorry I was, but I knew at the end of the day it wouldn't help.

  Barring a miracle, Artie would be fully human in a matter of months. Maybe less.

  Hermes reached over and squeezed my knee under the table. I gave him a small smile and focused my attention on my potatoes. I was too worked up and heartsick to eat so all I managed was to push them around my plate and get them wet with the lasagna sauce. And then when I thought about it, who chose to make potatoes with lasagna anyway?

  Clotho and I were weird.

  Hera sat straight-backed and stiff in her chair, her cool beauty at odds with the home around her. No one had said anything except for asking for food to be passed around the table.

  It. Was. Painful.

  And as if Clotho had heard the thought in my head, she let out a long suffering sigh and began to speak.

  "I'm glad you are all here. It will give us the opportunity to speak without being overheard." At my frown, she lifted a hand and waved it over her head. "The house and the lands are warded to the gills. Anything you say in here will be kept private. My sisters and I we..." she flicked her gaze to Lachesis and Atropos and I felt my stomach clench. Nothing good ever came when a Fate said "we".

  "We have seen things," she continued. "Dangerous things upon the horizon."

  Artie's gaze narrowed as she listened to Clotho's words.

  Clotho softened them with a smile. "But we've also seen beautiful things. New immortals will be born soon." Her gaze lingered on me. "Old immortals will die. And soon there will be a hard fought unification of all of us." Her smile dimmed. "But it will not come without a price. And the price will be steep." She took a deep breath. "There is one person at the heart of all of this change."

  My heart dropped to my feet and a sick feeling rose up. Please don't say my name, I prayed. Please don't say my -

  "Aphrodite."

  Shiiiiiitttttt.

  "While at times our prophecies have seemed muddled...fuzzy even -"

  Hera gave an unladylike snort but quailed when Atropos pinned her with a glare.

  "They are no longer. We see the future with clarity we have not held for years. Abby is the catalyst." She lifted her hands and held them up by her shoulders. "And all of you are involved with her." Clotho's eyes lingered on Hera. "Some for better or for worse."

  Hera's mouth thinned and she dropped her gaze.

  "Hermes' throne is at risk and we -"

  "My throne," Hera murmured with venom.

  Hermes shoulders sank and he shut his eyes. "Hera - "

  Hera tossed her napkin down on the table. "As if it wasn't bad enough you took my throne." She pointed to me. "This...heathen murdered my husband in cold blood."

  In my defense, I had an excellent reason. I clamped my mouth shut to keep from saying that aloud.

  "Your husband was a terrible leader and an even worse husband," Hermes said quietly.

  Oh damn. Super roasted. I blinked in surprise and clenched my hands together under the table to keep from fidgeting.

  "Yes," Hera agreed to my surprise, "but I was still married to the man. For better or worse."

  It kind of seemed like most of that was worse, but who was I to judge? At the end of the day, I'd been the one to kill him. And regardless of the reasons why I had done it, she still had every reason to hate me for it. Because she was his wife and I had stolen him away from her.

  Permanently.

  "It was foretold," Atropos said, unhelpfully.

  Hera pinched the space between her eyebrows. "It doesn't matter if it was foretold," she sneered. "I will have my pound of flesh!"

  "Whoah," I finally said, "no one is getting any of this flesh!"

  Lachesis snorted in amusement.

  Clotho gave me a glare. "Abby, not helpful."

  "I know it isn't helpful, but I'm really not to keen with being threatened while I'm trying to digest my lasagna!"

  Hera lunged over the table and grabbed me by the blouse. She hauled me across the table and sneered in my face. "Only heathens make potatoes with lasagna. Your carb to veggie ratio is embarrassing."

  "I like potatoes," I screeched in her face. "And if you don't let go of me, Baby Draco is going to be angry!"

  Her grip loosened as confusion spread over her face. "Draco?"

  "Yes," I said as I tried to extricate myself from her claw-like grip. "It means dragon in Latin. Plus, I like Harry Potter. It just made sense."

  She snorted and let go of me. "You're an idiot," she said, but the heat in her voice was gone.

  "He makes me breathe fire."

  One delicate arched eyebrow rose. "That is...disturbing."

  "I know. I have mad heartburn all the time now, and I can't help but think that's why. Maybe he really is a dragon."

  A strangled laugh broke from Artemis, and my heart soared at the sound. If she thought my idiocy was funny again then maybe we were slowly heading down the right path.

  It was a start at least.

  I'd take anything from her, even if it was her disdain. I met her gaze and she offered a small smile. Nothing else. But it sent my heart soaring.

  I had to fix this.

  Hera finally settled back into her seat, her posture ramrod straight and her ever-present partial sneer back in place. Hermes' nostrils flared. He was annoyed. Very much so.

  I was just glad to be alive. And eating lasagna. At the same time.

  Clotho cleared her throat and tried to begin again. Fights to the death were unfortunately pretty common when the gods got together so the fact that this little skirmish didn't end in bloodshed was a positive thing.

  "Like I was saying," she drawled out, "Hermes' throne has to be secured."

  Hera's mouth opened to argue and Atropos slammed her hand down on the table and opened her mouth wide showing off all those serrated teeth. "Silence," she hissed.

  I pretended not to notice the hard swallow Hera made or how she shrunk back in her chair, her posture a little more stooped then it had been.

  You were a dummy to mess with the Fates. Hera was a mean dummy, and I was like a dumb, friendly puppy. That's probably why they'd let me live for so long. No one could resist a big dumb puppy.

  Clotho's gaze drifted to Hera's patrician face and lingered there. "If Hermes' rule falters, there will be war." There was no doubt in her tone.

  "War?" Hermes questioned, his brows drawing together in concern.

  Pretty and calm Lachesis nodded. "War. Like we haven't seen in millennia. Worlds will be ravaged."

  I coughed, wondering at their altruism. "In the past you guys wouldn't tell me jack crap, but now you guys are a veritable font of information." I frowned at them. "Why so willing to share now?"

  Atropos squirmed uncomfortably in her chair.

  A smirk lingered on Lachesis' face, but Clotho turned her gaze to me and gave me a dude, shut up look.

  My lips twisted and I shrugged. "Valid question
," I mumbled.

  Artie sat up straighter. "It is. What gives?"

  Lachesis is the one who spoke. "If war comes to Olympus, we will perish."

  Silence fell around the table.

  No one could kill the Fates.

  Or could they?

  After an uncomfortable few moments, Hera was the one to speak. I cringed as soon as I saw her mouth open and wondered if this was the moment they hit her with a bolt of lightning. Instead, I was surprised. The question she asked was both articulate and thoughtful.

  "So, this is self-preservation," she mused. "You are aware you are breaking multiple rules by bringing us into your confidence?" Her voice lilted up in a question, but she didn't wait for them to answer. "I ask this in all seriousness. You've never been able to see your deaths. Until now. Are you trying to make us believe this is not how Fate is supposed to go? Or are you trying to save your own skin and, in fact, change the course of the world forever?"

  Clotho blinked.

  A flash of anger blinked over Atropos' face until she composed herself. Lachesis didn't seem surprised at all.

  "For all of your faults, Hera, your intellect has always been sharp as a tack."

  Hera didn't seem to like that backhanded compliment. Her lips thinned as she waited for their response.

  The pretty Fate smiled. "You're correct. It is not in our nature to tell specifics about prophecy because they are so fluid." Her face sobered. "But there is no fluidity in this. If the palace falls and Hermes is deposed, war is inevitable. We will die." Her gaze met mine and the sadness in caused my breath to hitch. "Many will die." She swallowed hard. "Including the newest immortals to be birthed soon."

  Tears swam in my eyes, but were quickly replaced by impotent rage. "Children, you mean?" I asked, my voice deep and deadly. "Babies?"

  Clotho's mouth thinned in sympathy. "Yes. Infants, children, all of the newest generation of us."

  I swept a hand across the table. "And all of us?"

  "Dead," Atropos said, her voice without inflection.

  "I'm really glad I made lasagna," I muttered, "especially if it's going to be my last meal."

  Clotho gave me an admonishing glare.

  "I'm serious," I said. And I was. My hand lingered over my stomach, praying to someone I didn't believe in that no harm would come to my child. Plus Baby Draco seemed to like the odd combo of taters and lasagna. Smart kid, he was. With a sophisticated palate.