by Raye Wagner
Hope listened with a growing sense of dread.
“It’s all an act?” Her mortification spread over her skin in bright scarlet.
“I don’t know. I don’t know exactly what he says or does. Several years ago, he brought in a couple female demigods that became distressed when he left, one in Europe and Obelia in Africa. Both had quite an emotional adjustment. But not everyone he brought in had a problem. And none in the last couple of years.” Thenia paused as if contemplating her next words. “He may not have meant for there to be such an attachment. That is something better answered by Athan.” Her weak smile and soft tone were pure sympathy.
Hope absorbed the words and meaning of what was said, and a sharp tearing sensation ripped through her chest. She stifled a scream. She wanted to punch something, kick someone. Athan came to mind. And Xan. And yet, part of her was insistent that it was different with her, that he had to have meant it.
She stood up. “I’m sorry, Thenia. I need to leave now.”
Thenia stood, too. “I understand.”
Hope walked from the room, stopping in the foyer to grab her keys on the way out of the house. It was time to go anyway, she reasoned, as she walked to the detached garage. She’d need to be on the road at some point today. Now was good. She started the car and pulled out onto the drive.
She needed to clear her head. She needed to fly. She needed to get out of the city.
And so she did.
HOPE SPENT THE BETTER part of the first day as a Sphinx uprooting trees on a mountainside in the Cascades. She kicked, pulled, and punched, splitting the wood and the skin of her hands over and over and over again.
Late that night, guilt about the destruction ate at her, and she flew a large percentage of the pines to a lumber mill near Arlington. She rationalized that she was helping the loggers, that it wasn’t anyone’s personal property she’d destroyed. But the hollow twinge of shame continued to nag at her conscience. It wasn’t until the first rays of sun streaked the sky that she collapsed amid the remaining ruin. Exhausted by the exertion, she slept.
The late afternoon sun beat warmth through the feathers and fur on Hope’s back. She let consciousness seep into her, stretched in the bright light, and then lay back down. The tantrum had left her strangely purged of her pain and anger. The hurt remained, but it was the dull ache of a healing wound, still there, but no longer pulsing with her heartbeat. She would be okay.
The sun dropped, now low in the sky as evening overtook day. Hope took a cathartic breath. It was time to be done. Time to focus on what she could control. Move on from the hurt, find a way to break the curse, and then really live her life. Athan was gone, and she would let her feelings for him go.
As Hope drove south on I-5, back toward the conservatory, she cringed. Had Xan told her there were rules about leaving? Would she be able to get back in? She’d checked her phone on the drive out of Seattle. The only messages, and there were fifty-six, were from Priska, and Hope deleted them all.
Half the cars were missing when she pulled behind the conservatory and into the massive garage. Another one of those impossibilities. Ten cars in what appeared to be a two-car garage. Well, usually ten cars. Perhaps it was a shopping day, which might make it easier to sneak back in. And gods, she was starving.
Having not eaten for the past two days, the kitchen would be first. Food took precedence over cleanliness, regardless of how bad she must have smelled.
She stepped through the glass back door, and someone screamed.
“Hope? By the gods!” Dahlia grabbed her and shoved her into one of the tall bar chairs. “Where in the name of Hades have you been?” As Dahlia’s voice got louder, she jabbed a finger at Hope’s face.
Hope frowned and took a step back. “I needed to get away.” Even with the distance, she leaned away from her friend, and the anger that radiated from her. “Why are you so—?”
“Worried?” Dahlia cut her off and took a deep breath. She muttered to herself while she paced the length of the kitchen and then came back to stand in front of Hope. “Seriously? Xan has half the house scouring the city, looking for you.” Dahlia shook her head. “I need to call him.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed as she continued yelling. “You can’t leave like that! I mean, what were you . . .” She stopped yelling and addressed the phone. “She’s here, Xan. No, I don’t know. Just walked in the door. No. Right.” She tapped the screen then glared at Hope. “Where was I?”
Hope blew out a noisy breath. “I’m sorry, Dahlia. I didn’t mean to worry anyone; I needed some space.”
“Well, next time tell someone.”
Hope jumped in before Dahlia could say anything else. “I did. I told Thenia I was leaving.”
“You told Thenia you had to go. She thought you meant leave the room, not leave the conservatory. Zeus and Hera. You really need to—”
“All right!” Hope yelled. She was tired, hungry, and emotionally beat. “I get it. I’m sorry. Can’t you let it go?”
Dahlia crossed her arms and growled, “You are in serious trouble, Hope.” She sniffed the air and grimaced. “You smell”—she sniffed again—“like an animal. Where were you?”
Hope shifted from foot to foot. “I went hiking?”
Dahlia flicked her hand back and forth in front of her nose.
“Well, take a shower. You stink.” She walked out of the kitchen, muttering about animals.
Hope slathered peanut butter and jelly onto bread, eating the first sandwich while making a second. Then a third and fourth. She drank a pint of milk and was munching on an apple when Xan strode through the door.
He stopped when he saw her. His cold eyes locked on hers. She stopped chewing and forced a swallow.
Something gripped her stomach, and fear ran down her spine. “Xan?”
“Don’t. Just . . . don’t.” He took a deep breath, his eyes skimming over her as if making sure she was really there. After another ragged breath he said, “Finish eating and then come to the study. We need to talk.” His gaze bounced around the kitchen and then back to her. “Please. Please, come to the study when you’re done.”
“Okay.” She felt very small. “I’m sor—”
“No.” He cut her off. “You don’t even know what you’re saying. Come talk to me when you’re done.”
He didn’t sound angry. Tired. But not angry. The niggling fear abated. She’d finish her apple first.
HOPE LOVED THE STUDY. Overstuffed, worn leather chairs sat in front of a real wood-burning fireplace. Perfect for reading. A picture of a cat curled up in the midst of a loaded bookshelf hung over the mantle. The lighting came from two torch lamps and a side lamp on the end table between the two chairs. There was a desk of dark mahogany in front of the windows, and rows of bookshelves extended floor to ceiling. There was even a ladder that slid along the wall of books. Despite there not being a door, the sounds of the house always seemed muffled and distant from within the study. Maybe the magic of the conservatory was like at Myrine’s house.
Hope stepped into the small, and apparently uninhabited, room. “Xan?”
“Hope?” His voice came from behind the chairs facing the fireplace. He stood and pressed his palm to his heart. “Zeus and Poseidon.” He crossed the room in two strides and wrapped her in a hug. “Where have you been?”
She was all kinds of nervous to be this close to him, but mostly because he’d notice how she smelled. She took a step back.
“I’m sorry I took off without telling anyone. I didn’t know it would cause a bunch of problems. I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. Anyway, it won’t happen again.”
Xan nodded but said nothing. His fists hung clenched at his side, and his lips were pinched.
The silence dragged on, and Hope’s guilt pushed her with it an urgency to fill the void and placate the irritated demigod. “I shouldn’t have freaked out. I went up to the mountains, did some hiking, and I probably should take a shower. I’m really, really sorry.”
“I know you didn’t mean anything.” He took a deep breath, and the corded muscles of his neck relaxed. “Come over to the fire, and let me tell you a story.” He tugged on her hand.
Hope followed him to the overstuffed chairs, and they each took one. Hope watched Xan while Xan watched the fire.
“You know, it doesn’t seem that long ago.” He met her gaze and blinked repeatedly before turning away. “But it was before you were even born.” He stared into the dancing flames. “We had a young demigod brought to the conservatory. She was . . . amazing. Beautiful doesn’t even describe her. She was striking and incredibly talented, too. She sang, danced, and was a great actress. She was Aphrodite’s daughter, and she oozed sexuality. Men and demigods were falling all over her.” He fell quiet again.
Hope wasn’t sure what this had to do with her. She glanced back at the doorway, wishing for a shower. His next words drew her focus back.
“One day,” he continued, “she took off. Just like you, she left without a word to anyone. She had big aspirations. Big plans. She talked about them all the time, but I didn’t really take her seriously. It was dangerous, and I didn’t . . . She moved to Hollywood and climbed to the top. She became famous. Really famous.” He stared at Hope, his hard gaze piercing. “Always dangerous for a demigod, it makes you such an easy target for Skia.” He sat back in the chair. “I tried to protect her. I couldn’t help it. We fought a lot about it. And then I couldn’t take it. I decided not to be involved.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I stopped checking on her. Several months went by, but then she called and apologized. It was impossible to stay angry with her. Impossible to stay away from her.” He looked up at Hope again. “She was amazing.”
Hope frowned.
“You said that.” An ugly feeling pierced her heart. It wasn’t fair to compare Hope to this girl.
“Yeah, I know.” He dropped his head again, and took two ragged breaths.
She knew it was bad. Of course it was bad. But she still wanted to know. “What happened?”
“Skia got her. I couldn’t be there all the time. I mean, I tried to be there, but she traveled a lot. She’d want me around and then refuse to see me for weeks. One day, she demanded I come be with her. I couldn’t go. We’d just found a new demigod. I can’t even remember who it was now.” He pinched his lips and ran his hand through his hair. “I wasn’t with her, and they got her.”
He seemed like the kind of guy that would blame himself. Terrible. And an actress? “Would I know her?”
“Aye. There are songs, stories, and books about her. She’s still considered one of the best actresses, ever. She was born Norma Jeane Mortenson, but you would know her as Marilyn Monroe.”
Hope thought her eyes would bug out. “Marilyn Monroe was Aphrodite’s daughter?” How had she missed that in her reading? “The Marilyn Monroe? As in ‘Story of my life. I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop?’”
“Aye. You like Some Like it Hot?” He chuckled. “That was a good one.”
Hope struggled to make sense of what he was saying. It seemed preposterous. And what about . . . “I thought Skia took the bodies or burned them or—”
He shifted in the seat, the leather creaking in protest. “I was supposed to meet her that night. When I arrived, they’d killed her. So, I killed them.” He flattened his lips into a grim line. “Just not in time.”
The thought of Xan fighting Skia made her stomach lurch, but she could see him filled with anger and obliterating anything that stood in his way. And the Skias’ bodies would have disappeared after he killed them, but Marilyn Monroe’s didn’t. “You made it look like suicide? Why would you do that?”
“It was probably rash, but at the time I didn’t want Hades to know he’d won. We’d lost several demigods, and Skia had become the equivalent of the boogeyman, even to mortal adults. There were rumors they were killing humans. I was trying to hide what had happened. I had no idea it would create that kind of sensation.”
“Why wasn’t any of that in the notes Obelia gave me?”
Xan shrugged.
“You thought—”
“What I thought was that you had left.” He shifted his body, and the conversation, back to Hope with an even stare. “Maybe it was what Obelia had told you; maybe it had been something else. All I knew was you were gone. You need to stay until you’re trained. At least that long, Hope. Until you can defend yourself. I don’t want . . .” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”
Hope’s breath stuck in her throat. What? No, no, no! She did not have time for this. She couldn’t even open the door to those feelings.
“What? Did I say too much too soon? I’m not trying to pressure you, and I’m not asking for any kind of relationship besides friendship. I’m sure Athan messed up your head, and that kind of thing takes time to get over. I don’t have any ulterior motives, either. I like you. I like your strength, your perseverance, and I understand your mistrust. I don’t want you to mistrust me, though. I’ll be honest with you, about everything. Always. I . . .” His eyes plead with her, saying far more than his words. “When you think you’re ready, think about me, ’kay?”
Hope took a deep breath. “I can’t, Xan.” If he was going to be honest, it was the least she could give back. “I can’t go there right now.”
“Yeah, I understand.” His eyes were bright, and he rolled his shoulders. “But someday you might.”
Hope sat, contemplating what he had said and what he’d done. He’d organized a search party for her as soon as he knew she left. He’d gone out hunting for her the last two days and into the night, because he was worried about her. He was a fabulous teacher, and so patient. Her heart warmed. He was the closest thing to a best friend she had since leaving Goldendale. But her heart didn’t melt. And that was the crux of it. She wasn’t ready to open her heart again. Not like that.
“I can’t promise—”
He held up his hand. “Seriously, I’m not asking for anything. Knowing what you said before, and what Obelia told you, I’d expect now to be a terrible time to be hitting on you.” His dimple flashed for the first time that night. “And don’t run off like that again, all right? If you want to leave, let me know. We can figure something out if you need to get out.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“That’s it, really. I wanted you to know why we don’t run off.” Xan leaned back in the chair and watched the fire flicker and flame.
The tension dissipated, and the silence was no longer uncomfortable. Hope leaned back in her chair and let her gaze fall to the flames. Several minutes passed, and exhaustion seeped into her body. Warmth and comfort seeped from Xan’s hand to hers.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The question poked at something she wanted to bury away and never acknowledge. “About what?”
“About what happened with Obelia? About what happened with Athan?” He crouched low until he was eye level with her.
Her shoulders dropped. Of course, he wouldn’t let her.
“Not really.” But she kept going. “I thought he was sincere, and it turns out he’s a liar.” She glanced back into the flames.
“Yeah. That sucks hard. He’s pretty messed up, though. Not that that’s an excuse for what he does.” He made a sound low in his throat. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I wish it had been different. Especially for you.”
She sagged into her seat. Somehow Xan’s pity made her heart ache. But the pain of Athan, his betrayal and lies, while still tender, it wasn’t fresh, not so raw, more like a two-day-old bruise. “Yeah, me too. But I’ll be all right.”
“I know you will be.” Xan stood up. “Oh, by the way, I’m going to have to go out of town tomorrow. I need to go to the coast.”
Hope frowned. “Why?”
He sat on the arm of her chair. “There’s a group of Mer-people off the coast of California causing problems. They’re luring boaters into shallow water.”
&n
bsp; For real? “There are mermaids?”
Xan laughed. “Aye. You didn’t know?”
“I thought the monsters had almost all been destroyed.” By demigods like you, actually. But the thought of Xan killing anyone was nearly impossible to believe. Not that he wasn’t capable, but more that he had such restraint. Like what had happened with Braireus.
“No. And the Mer don’t consider themselves monsters. They’re Poseidon’s people.” He made air quotes. “There’s a sanctuary in the Mariana Trench. Their numbers aren’t very big, so they’re pretty secretive. But every once in a while a group of adolescents will do something stupid.” He waved his hand as if dismissing youthful antics, then rested his elbows on his knees, and his eyes became somber. “If it were just a boat or two being sunk, I wouldn’t intervene. But two human children drowned yesterday, and some teen boy the day before. That’s not right.”
“That’s awful.” And it was, but her thoughts went to the library. With Xan gone, she would have almost free rein for her research. “How long will you be gone?”
“A couple of days.” He narrowed his eyes. “You know, on second thought, you probably should come with me.”
“What?” He couldn’t be serious. She needed to stay here. “You and me on a trip? But—”
He smirked. “Right. We’ll take Dahlia, too.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand.
“I don’t want to leave you here with Endy and Obelia. Especially not when Ty and his brothers could be here any day.”
