“It wasn’t a fling. Not to me.”
“—leave.” The word was out of my mouth before I processed what he’d said, and somehow, knowing I hadn’t misinterpreted or overstepped, made me feel worse. I looked up at him so fast I almost clipped his chin. “What?”
“It was more.” He glanced down at the deck, then looked back up to me, a fire burning in his eyes. “You were more.”
“Stop it.” I moved away from him, shivering when I stepped out of his arms. “You don’t need pretty words or grand gestures. I’m a sure thing, remember? I never asked for more, never expected it from you. So don’t insult me by trying to pretend that I actually mattered. I was fine with—”
“You do matter.” He stepped toward me, then seemed to think better of it.
“I told you everything.” I couldn’t keep the raw pain out of my voice. “And you left. For over a year. Just slipped away in the middle of the night like a coward. You don’t do that to people who matter.”
“You’re right.” He dropped his hand. “You’re absolutely right. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I know,” I said unzipping the coat and holding it out to him. “So don’t do it again.”
Chapter XXII
I RETURNED TO the suite, feeling numb with exhaustion and pain. I’d never felt this tired before, mentally, physically, or emotionally. Gods, if being human felt like this, maybe those short life spans were a mercy. With effort, I pushed Ares out of my mind. I couldn’t muster up the energy to be angry with him anymore, and the alternative hurt every bit as badly. Best not to think about him at all.
To my surprise, Elise lounged at the bench near my door. “Oh, gods.” Her eyes widened when she saw me. “You look like crap.”
“Well, it was a long night.” I slid my keycard into the slot and turned the knob, pleased Poseidon had already removed the shield around the room. “Come in?”
She followed me over the threshold, careful not to let the door slam, and raised her eyebrows as she took in the suite. The wall of windows allowed bright, morning sunbeams to stretch across the carpet. “Wow. This is huge.”
I shrugged, flopping down on the white couch and putting my feet up on the wicker table, too exhausted to care about maintaining appearances. Where was Adonis? The squeal of the pipes turning on and the rush of running water from the upstairs shower answered me before I could even voice the question. Adonis’s showers could take years, so if I could send Elise on her way, maybe I could get a bit of rest in before we headed to shore. “Elise?”
“Uh . . .” Elise jerked her head away from the paintings of sea foam and turned her attention to me. “I realized I never told you where to meet us for breakfast. We were all gonna meet up in about . . .” She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. “Thirty minutes? I can tell the girls to push it back if you need more time. With all the equipment and stuff that needs to be set up, it’ll be a bit before we’re needed on shore.”
Crap, I’d forgotten about breakfast. “Yeah, sure.” As much as I wanted to rest, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to find out more about Elise, even if she would be going to the Underworld in a few hours. Plus . . . I kind of liked her. She was randomly friendly, and I knew that had nothing to do with my charm. “Just give me a few minutes once he gets out of the shower. I have to change and at least wash my face.” And either text Poseidon to reapply the shield, or drag Adonis to the Lido deck with me.
“Of course.” She moved in front of me, pushing back the coffee table so she could perch on the fragile-looking wicker. “So . . . Tantalus interrupted us before you could answer me back at the club. And then a bunch of gods searched everyone’s room last night and no one remembers. I know you guys don’t just go around doing that unless something really bad is going on, so—”
“How could you know if we do or not?” I leaned forward. “Most people forget when we charm them to. This could be a nightly occurrence and unless someone like you happens to be there, people would never hear about it.”
She frowned, glancing up the stairs when the water shut off. “Yeah, okay, maybe. But I’ve gone my whole life without seeing a god, and now I’m on a ship full of them. That makes me nervous. Should I be?”
“No, because we’re getting you out of here.” Maybe I was making a mistake in trusting her, but she deserved to know she was in danger, and I felt too tired to come up with a plausible half-truth to get her off my back. So, instead, I brought her up to speed.
“You’re . . . helping us.” She leaned back, looking dumbfounded. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you?” I suggested with a yawn big enough to crack my jaw.
“Yeah.” She had an odd expression on her face. “Thanks.”
“Elise?” Adonis stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. His hair looked strange when damp. Like liquid metal. “What are you doing here?”
She looked up at him, and in that moment, I recognized her from the magazines, billboards, and glossy posters in the mall. She modeled makeup or facial wash or something. Strange how I hadn’t remembered before.
“Adonis.” Her voice went perfectly neutral. Pleasant, yet distant. “We need to talk.” She turned to me, the fake warmth in her eyes creeping me out. “Can we have just a minute? We won’t leave the room, I promise. You can even shield it.”
“Of course,” I agreed, only slightly surprised she knew about shields. “I’ll go take a quick shower and then we can grab breakfast.”
“Uh—” Adonis protested, but I darted up the stairs and into the bathroom before he could articulate his objection. She couldn’t charm him, and she wouldn’t be able to leave if she tried anything. Plus, these rooms weren’t soundproof. If Adonis needed me, I wasn’t far.
Can you shield the room again for a few minutes? I texted to Poseidon. Something came up.
Done, he replied.
The passengers who were killed last night haven’t been noticed yet, I texted back. No way the boat would dock, business as usual, and no chance every single one of those passengers was traveling alone. Someone should have noticed by now, and my charm to keep everyone calm and in their rooms would have worn off at dawn. Is that our doing, or does that mean something else with charm is already on board making people forget?
He didn’t respond for a long moment. Be careful.
I swallowed hard, set down the phone, and turned on the water. Not us, then.
“. . . thinks we’re in danger!” Elise’s voice rose over the spray of the water I’d just turned on, whipping toward me like daggers.
“I know, okay . . . should have told . . .“
“People died! This isn’t the time for secrets.”
I stepped into the shower and their voices faded to indistinct murmurs. The scalding hot water was just what I needed to wake up and unknot the tense muscles in my back. Gods, these last few days had been brutal. Humming to myself, I scrubbed my skin with enough fervor to leave it raw. As if ridding myself of the sweat and grossness from searching all those staterooms last night would make the tension and fear wash away with it. Satisfied I was squeaky clean, I turned the water to cold. Any sleepiness I felt before fled under the freezing water. I gasped, my heart pounding, and turned off the shower, reaching for one of the white fluffy towels.
“How can you do it?” Elise demanded. “Pretend to care and then not warn—”
I scowled, finding the towel damp, and stepped out of the shower, dripping and cold to search for one Adonis hadn’t already used.
“Here we go,” I murmured, grabbing a shorter towel off the rack by the toilet. When I wrapped the terry cloth around me, it almost closed. “What is this, a washcloth?” What was the point of a towel this size? Seriously? “Oh well.” I flipped my hair and started scrunching it dry.
“I do care.” Adonis’
s voice exploded through the suite. “Do you think it was an easy decision? That I want anyone to get hurt? It’s all screwed up, and I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you. I shouldn’t have—” He took a deep breath before continuing at a lower volume. “Given the stakes, I don’t know what else I could have done.”
He had a point. The more people who knew the situation, the more likely my presence here would be noted as a threat. Of course, last night blew those concerns out of the water, but I hadn’t thought to give Adonis the go-ahead to warn his friends.
Dry enough, I opened my suitcase, searching for beachwear. I slipped into my aquamarine bikini and pulled a sheer, white swimsuit cover on over it. There was no point in doing anything to my hair beyond a quick comb-through because the stylists would be working on it in what . . . ? One hour? Two? I glanced at my phone. I’d been close. An hour and a half. Sliding into sandals, I inspected myself in the mirror.
“Not bad.” My skin still looked flushed from the shower, and my damp curls hung around my face. I teased my hair a bit, trying to achieve what Melissa groused was my “annoyingly perfect, carelessly sexy” ’do. Not as easy without a glamour but—
“Don’t!” Elise sounded near tears.
I sighed, studying the mirror in an attempt to find something, anything else that would make noise and use up some time. I was trying to give them privacy. The least they could do was keep their voices down.
“I don’t want to be a part of this,” she continued. “You shouldn’t be either. When we leave, when we’re safe, we can—”
“Oh, screw it,” I muttered, opening the bathroom door. They’d had way more than a minute anyway. “We need someone who can lie,” I explained, ignoring their surprised looks as I descended the staircase. Whatever. If they didn’t want me involved in the conversation, they should have whispered. “So if he wants to stay—” My eyes met Adonis’s. “He’s welcome.”
“Well.” Elise crossed her arms with a huff. “He certainly can lie.”
“Elise.” If Adonis was trying to keep the frustration from his tone, he failed.
“Adonis.”
By the Styx! Was this what their relationship had been like? Elise, Adonis, Elise, Adonis. This conversation sounded like something out of one of the overly emotional animes Persephone watched. I considered throwing my name in there for variety, when Adonis seemed to recover his vocabulary.
“We’re going to fix this.”
Elise’s glare could have frozen flames. “You’d better.” She looked at me, tucking her hair behind her ears again. A nervous gesture, I realized, as she spoke. “I have one shoot today, but after that, I’ll tell everyone I’m not feeling well and head straight back on board. If you meant what you said about getting me off this ship and out of the middle of all this—” She waved her hands around, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Then that’ll be a good opportunity.”
“I do,” I assured her.
She nodded. “Then let’s not waste any more time. I’ll cancel breakfast. Adonis, order room service, you know what I like. Make sure to get an energy drink for her.” She motioned to me. “No offense, but you still look like you’re about to fall out. And you should probably get whoever is going to be playing me here as well. There’s some stuff my doppelgänger is going to need to know if she’s going to have a prayer of pulling this off.”
Chapter XXIII
AFTER WHAT TURNED out to be a tense, yet informative breakfast with Elise, Artemis, and Adonis, I couldn’t wait to get off the boat and explore the cruise line’s private island. Instead, I got swept along to another photo shoot. Adonis promised it would only last a few hours before another batch of models took our place. That was a few hours ago, so with any luck, we were almost done.
I was lying on the beach, posed on top of Adonis, and feeling absolutely jittery while a makeup artist arranged my hair so my red curls didn’t block his face. The sun reflecting off the brilliant white sand hurt my eyes. At least, that’s how I justified keeping my gaze focused on Adonis’s bare skin. Despite the sun beating down on us, the cool breeze coming off the ocean kept us from breaking out into a sweat. Mostly.
What a beautiful beach. If I craned my neck, I could see the ocean, about half a football field’s length away, water sparkling like liquid tourmaline. Voices caught my attention from my other side, and I glanced over to see one of the assistants fiddling with a light board. Another noise caught my ear and I turned, earning a sharp tug from a stylist named Trish as she messed with my hair.
“Could you please stay still?” Trish asked.
“Yeah, for real,” Adonis added.
“Sorry.” I flushed, realizing I was all but bouncing with uncontained energy. The fact that energy drinks could impact me at all didn’t speak well for any chance of improvement once we hit real land, but rather than focusing on the negative, I decided to enjoy the novelty of the experience. If energy drinks could impact me now, could I get drunk? What else had changed? Could I—
“Seriously,” Adonis complained.
“Sorry.” I said again. Geez, what was with him? He’d gotten all cranky and introspective after his argument with Elise. Instead of indulging his angst, I turned my attention to Trish. “So how does this sell jeans?”
“They sell your swimsuit, too.” Trish sprayed my hair with something that smelled like a chemical version of a tropical paradise. “Not that it’s likely to be in the shot.”
Adonis and I both wore the company’s signature jeans, but where he was shirtless, as per the norm, I wore a striped bikini top that actually looked pretty cute. If they didn’t let me keep the swimsuit, I’d have to pick one up the next time I visited the mall.
Did their ad convince me to buy their product while I was in their ad? How meta.
“Okay, we’re all ready.” Trish stood, inspecting us from every angle, then made a beeline to the cabana the modeling agency had rented so we’d have a stretch of private beach.
As soon as she walked out of earshot, Adonis returned to his favorite topic of the day. “You think you’re dying.” His deep undertone brought me back to reality with a crash. “So why are you still here? If I were you, I’d want to have fun, you know? Hang out with people who . . . I don’t know—”
I flashed him a sarcastic grin. “Do more than barely tolerate me?”
Adonis winced. “Yeah.”
He had a point, but I felt too tired to dwell on it. While the energy drink certainly energized me, my head was still buzzing, and though the cuts and scratches had healed last night, my body still felt sliced and diced. A smarter goddess would probably take the hint and leave. Getting attacked went way above my pay grade, especially if my time actually was limited. But no, I’d stick around. All for one stupid demigod. Sometimes I wondered if Zeus’s programming went deeper than I thought. Deeper than even Poseidon implied. Zeus had bred loyalty into me. Subservience too, though that one had a harder time sticking.
“Near death has pretty much been my state of being since my creation.” I shifted my weight to my hands so there wasn’t quite so much skin-to-skin contact going on. Damned distracting stuff, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to mind. “I can’t just drop everything because of some theory. Poseidon could be wrong.”
Adonis propped himself up on his arms. “Your shield broke when we were on the balcony.”
“Someone distracted me,” I teased, planting a hand on his bare chest and pushing him down on the sand.
We both fell silent for a series of shots where our faces were visible, but the second we were angled away from the camera, Adonis picked up right where he’d left off. “You wince every time you charm someone or put up a shield. You didn’t used to do that.”
“Watching me pretty close there, eh, Adonis?” I wiggled my toes in the warm sand. Were they almost finished setting up? I glanced toward the photographe
r, but he looked engrossed in a conversation with one of his assistants.
“You had a panic attack last night.” Adonis’s serious voice drew my attention back to him. “I’ve never heard of a god getting those.”
“Maybe I was panicked,” I snapped, losing my patience. What did he want me to say? Everything sucked, and at the rate my powers seemed to be abandoning me, I’d be dead by dawn? What good would dwelling on the obvious do? This would either pass or it wouldn’t.
“Aphrodite, I’m worried. You stopped healing.” His hand rested lightly on my back, and I winced, remembering the patchwork of scratches I’d gotten from sliding across the broken glass last night.
I leaned into his touch, accepting the apology in his voice. “I healed eventually.”
“You stopped breathing. Do you have any idea how—” He looked away. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought—I thought you were—” He took a deep breath, jolting when I touched his arm.
“I’m breathing now. You actually kind of saved me, again.” I tilted my head and flashed him my most dazzling smile. “Thanks, by the way.”
“No!” Adonis took a deep breath and exhaled with a forced calm before adding in a much quieter voice. “No, I didn’t. So don’t thank me. And next time you might not—”
“Who said there’s going to be a next time?”
The photographer ambled over and rearranged us, moving Adonis, and talking me through the poses. By the time he finished, Adonis and I both faced away from the camera, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me. I let myself relax against him. When Ares touched me, I could feel power pulsing through him, leaving him hot to the touch. In his arms, I’d felt like a moth drawn to the fatal flame. I’d never wanted so badly to burn. Adonis lacked that heat, but his arms felt steady and firm. There was a comfort here I desperately needed right now.
When Adonis spoke, I could feel the words reverberate through his chest. “You should get off the ship. Ask Persephone to teleport you somewhere safe while we’re in this realm. Anywhere but here.”
Aphrodite Page 17
