“I can’t believe we didn’t find anything,” Artemis grumbled from the ledge next to mine. The three windows were set so deep into the wall overlooking the miniature golf course that they made pretty good benches, despite the inward slant.
“That’s good, right?” Persephone sat tucked into the ledge on my other side. Not that I could see her very well around Hades, who leaned on the wall between us. “It means there were no more weapons.”
“Maybe.” Athena raised her voice to be heard over the air rushing around us. She leaned against the white rails of the ship, an entire person-length away from Poseidon and Ares. “But on this whole ship, someone should have known something. We didn’t even pick up any stray power signatures. Whoever is behind this might have found a way to circumvent our shields.”
“Either way, they know we’re on to them.” Poseidon’s gaze focused on the sea.
“Pretty sure that cat was out of the bag before they attacked us with Olympian Steele.” I wondered if I should broach the topic of my missing powers and the possible loss of my immunity. They couldn’t count on me right now, and allowing them to think otherwise would be a bad idea. But before I could speak up, Persephone leaned around Hades, extending a hand. “Where to?”
I blinked at her hand, unsure what she wanted from me. “What?”
“You’re done here,” Poseidon said before Persephone could clarify. “You can go home. I don’t need you anymore. They know I’m on to them. I no longer have reason to be subtle.”
“You were going for subtle and you sent her?” Ares shook his head and flashed me a grin. “No offense, Aphrodite, but you stand out.”
I accepted the compliment with a shrug, turning my attention back to Persephone. “I’d like to stick around.” I leaned against the cool glass of the window. “I’ve already established a rapport with the demigods. I think they’ll tell me if something—”
“You charmed an entire room full of people into protecting us, nearly broke the charm affecting the attacking passengers, then charmed a ship’s worth of passengers into staying in their rooms while we searched,” Poseidon said, sounding impressed despite himself. “I think it’s safe to assume you’re no longer under cover. No one is going to assume you can be charmed into forgetting anything.”
“Which means they’ll be focused on her. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Artemis said. “I could keep an eye out, see if anyone is watching her too closely.”
“You guys do see her, right?” Ares waved an arm at me. “Everyone is going to watch too closely. Every head in every room turns when she walks by. That’s what Zeus was going for when he made her.”
“This is bigger than some missing demigods. Zeus said something was coming, something bigger and armed. I, for one, don’t want to be caught off guard.” Artemis looked at me. “Do you mind? Being our diversion?”
“Uh . . .” I needed to tell them. If I could be charmed, I was completely vulnerable. But could I risk them sending me away? Adonis and the other demigods were in danger. He wasn’t wrong in his estimation of their importance—or lack of—to most gods. I glanced at Poseidon for guidance, but he pointedly ignored me, scowling down at the waves.
“How much time do we have?” Ares asked, crossing his arms.
“I’m not sure exactly.” I wiped at the salty beads of water coating my face from the damp sea breeze. “If the patterns hold, the demigods will go missing somewhere between midnight and six a.m.”
Ares glanced down at his watch. “It’s already seven.”
Artemis sputtered with laughter but I just stared at him, waiting for him to catch on.
He closed his eyes. “You meant next midnight . . . Yeah, I gotcha.”
“And this is why we don’t bother waiting on your input,” Poseidon muttered, his navy eyes churning in time to the waves. “So, we need to—”
“Let it happen,” Athena suggested.
“What?” Hades jerked forward in surprise.
Athena’s grey eyes went flat, and her face took on that passive patient look I’d only ever seen in her expression when she grew super annoyed at having her advice questioned. “We need to know more about what is being done to the demigods, who is using them, and where these weapons are coming from. The surest way to do that is—”
“Use them as bait?” I didn’t like the sound of that any more than I liked the idea of me being a diversion. But I wasn’t surprised.
“No. Be the bait,” Athena explained. “There are four demigods. Let’s replace them. When they take them, they get us.”
Huh, who would have thought Adonis and the goddess of wisdom would be on the same page, idea-wise?
“What do we do with the real demigods?” Persephone asked.
“Hide them in the Underworld until this is over,” Athena suggested. Demigods were the only living beings who could go to and from the Underworld uninvited.
“Adonis and Elise can’t be charmed,” I added. “They might not go for it.”
“I think we can leave Adonis.” Athena mused. “If we do all get taken, it might be good to have a real demigod on hand who can do the talking.”
“You mean the lying.” If Persephone tried to mask the disapproval in her voice, she failed.
“Precisely.” Athena touched her hair as though checking to make sure the wind hadn’t damaged her severe style. As if a bun that tight could be dislodged by anything less than a tornado. I made a mental note to give her some tips later. Practical beauty was a thing. “Adonis has proven he can hold his own and is trustworthy. Those of us with charm will need to replace the demigods, and one of us will have to replace this assistant woman. From what I’ve observed, she’s close enough to notice minor changes in Narcissus’s behavior. As for the rest of us, we can use glamours to blend in with the passengers.”
I looked up. There was no way I could keep up a glamour. “I—”
“Oh, not you,” Athena clarified, smoothing her taupe power suit. “You’ve already been seen on this ship. It would be suspicious if you vanished. I think Artemis has the right idea. Let’s let whoever’s behind this waste their time watching you. With any luck, they’ll never see us coming.”
“I could replace Elise.” Artemis’s dark eyes were narrowed in thought. “The height difference is going to be a pain. What is she, five-seven, five-eight?”
“Wait, we can glamour height?” Persephone sounded so excited that we all paused to look at her.
“The further we are from our original form, the more power a glamour takes to maintain,” I explained. “Height is a big one, because it impacts your entire skeletal structure. It wouldn’t be practical day to day.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll replace Tantalus,” Ares said, getting us back on track with a wicked grin.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Poseidon objected.
“Do you have a better plan?” Persephone asked him.
“Yeah. Sink the boat. Get the weapons safely out of human hands. If whatever is behind all of this survives drowning, then we’ll have learned more about the nature of it. If not, you and Hades can sort it all out in Tartarus.”
Persephone stared at him for so long that Poseidon shifted, and rubbed the back of his neck. She turned, not saying a word to him. “Athena, your idea sounds wonderful. Ares, Artemis, thank you for volunteering.” She looked to me. “I’ll check in as much as I can, but for now—” She cast Poseidon a stony look. “If you dare—”
“You’re not queen of this realm,” Poseidon reminded her. “This ship is scheduled to reach your realm in two days—”
“Tomorrow,” I corrected. “Well, like in an hour.”
Poseidon shook his head. “At a private island, small enough to shield. But this ship will make port at Nassau in two days and that is an island too large to monitor every inch of. R
ight now, we have whatever is responsible for the missing demigods and these weapons trapped on a boat. I’m not letting it escape from my realm. Two days, and this ship stops moving. In the meantime, I can play Narcissus. I don’t think he’s one of Zeus’s. Have you ever seen him use charm?”
I shook my head. “But every other demigod on the ship can. And I’ve heard some things that indicate there’s a good chance he can too.”
“Just in case, I’ll be Narcissus’s assistant,” Athena said, bringing us back to the focus of the conversation. “I can charm if necessary. We’ll make the exchange after the shoot today. That gives us time to observe their mannerisms.”
“Does everyone have a phone?” Persephone asked. “We might need to reach each other without waiting around for a dreamscape.”
“I’ve got one,” Ares said.
“Me too,” Artemis chimed in.
Athena, Poseidon, and I said nothing.
“Be back soon.” Persephone vanished.
After we’d worked out a few more of the logistics, she reappeared with a handful of smart phones, secure in their boxes. “The guy at the store swore they were fully charged and ready to go.”
The store? What time zone did she teleport to?
“I programmed all of our numbers into the phones, so all you’ll have to do is charge it every now and then and keep it on. Don’t hesitate to text me with any questions. Uh . . . do you all know how to text?” She handed a silver phone to Athena, who scoffed.
“We might not be as young as you, dear, but I can assure you, cell phones are not beyond our comprehension.”
Persephone looked doubtful, but handed Poseidon a black phone without argument, then handed me a gold one. “I should have picked up some cases,” she worried.
“We can shield them,” I reminded her. “Thanks, though.” I pocketed the phone.
After nailing down a few last-minute details, everyone was ready to move on to their assigned tasks.
“Ares,” I called, running after him before he could get too far away. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Of course.” He followed me across the deck, out of sight of the golf course. We stopped walking when we reached a glass wall looking down to the next deck. “Is everything with Poseidon—?”
“Handled. But now I need a favor.” When his expression went guarded, I laughed. “I just need to test something. Can you turn on your charm?”
I hated to ask him, but Persephone was too strong—her charm might have worked on me even if my powers weren’t fading. I didn’t trust Athena with my weakness, and I didn’t know Artemis that well.
“Maybe. What do I get for this favor?” he teased.
I gave him a playful shove.
“Ouch.” Ares laughed. “Not the payment I was hoping for. But yeah, sure.” He waited a beat. “Happy?”
I frowned. “I can’t feel anything. Charm me.”
“Really?” Ares gave me a mischievous grin and met my eyes. “Yeah, okay. Take off your top.”
Gods, this sweater felt itchy. I reached for the bottom of my sweater and his eyes widened, mischief shifting to alarm. “Stop.” He grabbed my hands. “That wasn’t supposed to work.”
What wasn’t supposed to work? I looked down at his hands wrapped around mine at the bottom of my sweater. “Ares, seriously?” I jerked my hands free and shoved him. “That’s where your mind goes?”
“Of course that’s where my mind went.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I stopped you,” he reminded me. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t—”
“Are you blushing?” The tips of his ears, just visible through his mop of curly hair, were bright red.
“That’s not a line I would—” he continued babbling. “Not with you. Not with anyone, but definitely not with—Are you—” He paused. “Are you laughing at me?”
I stopped trying to hold back and burst out laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. I clutched my stomach, trying to suck in air between giggles. He laughed for a moment, despite himself.
His laughter trailed off when he realized I wasn’t stopping.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, still giggling, gripped by the sheer absurdity of my situation. “It’s not this funny, I just—I just—” I couldn’t stop. I’d made the frickin’ god of war, battle, and bloodshed blush. I could be charmed. There was a distinct possibility I was dying. I’d been attacked and harassed and insulted and become a model, and—
I could be charmed.
And I was probably dying.
My laughter was no longer audible, though my shoulders shook with my hysterical gasps.
Ares hesitated. “Aphrodite . . .” He draped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him in an awkward embrace.
Despite myself, I leaned into him, clinging to his cold jacket. Once my laughter stopped and shifted into deep, shuddering breaths, he pulled away. “How come I can charm you?”
I hesitated for all of a second. But I was in way over my head, and I needed an opinion on this from someone who wouldn’t benefit from my death as much as Poseidon. Shivering at the cold, morning wind biting through my sweater, I filled him in on everything that had happened since I boarded the ship, and Poseidon’s theory. When I got to my encounter with Tantalus, Ares clenched his jaw, but didn’t comment. “Do you think Poseidon’s right about me having an expiration date?” I asked, after I finished the whole story.
“I think it’s possible,” Ares admitted. “The way Zeus made you . . . it’s like nothing any of us have ever seen before. Maybe you just weren’t built to operate outside of your realm. I mean, there’s got to be some reason Zeus tossed you into Poseidon’s realm right after he made you. Maybe he was keeping you weak until he moved everyone else into place.”
I narrowed my eyes, thinking that through. Zeus would have known placing me in Poseidon’s realm would bring my existence to the attention of one of two gods. Poseidon, of course, who at the time would have used a land-based deity popping up in his realm as an excuse to talk to Demeter, and everyone knew it. But Poseidon wasn’t the only one who would have noticed. Hades would have, too. After all, he had access to a prophet. Either way, all roads led to Persephone, who at the time had no built-in resistance to my charm.
“He didn’t teach you to control your powers,” Ares reminded me. “So you were weak in the ocean realm, but the second your feet touched land—”
“Wham.” My powers came back without any thought or direction. Persephone had tried to drown herself to get away from me. Hades had to transfer more power her way, just to return her to sanity. “That might explain why my powers are harder to access on the ship, but . . .” I frowned. “This doesn’t feel like I’m just disconnected from my powers. I had a full-scale panic attack last night. I’ve been getting claustrophobic, and crazy emotional. Something’s wrong with me. I can feel it.”
Ares drew in a deep breath and leaned against the glass wall. “I mean . . . you’ve been traumatized. What Zeus did to you, the way he used you—” He worked his jaw, his eyes distant as if he was searching for words. “That doesn’t go away just because you heal. It’s always there, hence the nightmares. With your powers in place, you could wake up from that and be fine in a matter of seconds. But without them . . .”
“I’m getting the physical side-effects.” I considered, rubbing my arms for warmth against the cold wind. I wanted to argue, but if any god knew trauma, it was War. “That tracks. Well, with any luck, your theory is right and I’ll be good as new once I get to the island today, and—” I stopped when I saw Ares shaking his head. “What?”
“This island’s too small to be considered fully outside of Poseidon’s realm. You may improve a bit, but the real test will be Nassau. In the meantime—” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped the garment around me. “See
if this helps.”
The gesture felt oddly intimate. Ares and I had progressed way past hugging on our road trip last year, but having his jacket around my shoulders felt really good on a different level. Reassuring, somehow. The inside of the jacket retained Ares’s body heat and smelled a bit like burnt cinnamon. I felt grounded for the first time since I’d stepped onto the ship. Almost like I was back in my realm. “This is your token,” I realized.
Tokens were objects from a god’s home realm that could act as a kind of conduit. Instead of struggling to draw power while in a foreign realm, a god could channel their power through their token, neatly avoiding all the yucky side-effects I’d felt since I set foot on Poseidon’s turf. Unfortunately, Zeus had held back my ability to create one. I’d tried.
“Ares, I can’t—”
When I started to slip my arms out of the sleeves, Ares tugged me toward him using the edges of the jacket, and zipped it, his fingers never deviating from the tiny piece of metal. When he reached the hollow of my neck, he paused. I tore my gaze from his hand and looked into his eyes.
“I can make another one. You, I can’t replace. Be careful?”
My heart stuttered at the words unspoken, the silent promises in his eyes. I’d been so mad at him, and it was easy to stay angry while he was gone because he wasn’t around to object. But I couldn’t hang on to my rage anymore. “Gods,” I managed to whisper. “You make it hard to hate you.”
“I try.” His lips twitched up in a smirk.
I leaned into him, tension easing out of my shoulders when his arms wrapped around me. “I miss this,” I admitted, keeping my gaze fastened to his shoes. “Us. Can we just go back?”
He squeezed my shoulders. “Aphrodite . . .”
“I don’t have expectations,” I said, hurriedly, unable to stop talking now that I’d already stooped to desperation. I couldn’t sink any lower, so why not keep drowning? “I know I’m a mess. So if it was just a fling . . .” I waved my hands. “So what? It was a great fling. You didn’t need to—”
Aphrodite Page 16
