But unlike Jason, I could tell I was more than a tool here. They might just see me as a naïve kid, but I mattered to them as a person. So maybe I wasn’t where I wanted to be, but I was still leagues ahead of where I left.
Last time you were willing to settle for “better than where you left”, you ended up impregnated by a lying psychopath who used your blood to torture people. Maybe it’s time to set your standards higher.
“Why not just shred the shield?” Otrera stepped back from the counter. “Medea said she could teleport through the shield protecting the island. The one protecting the hospital can’t be much stronger.”
Medea is right here, I wanted to point out. Instead, I studied myself in the mirror, searching for what they saw when they looked at me. Dark hair; strange, frightened eyes; young; small for my age. I wouldn’t take me seriously either, but at the moment, I was stronger than either of them.
Shouldn’t that count for something? My fingers itched to write in my journal. Everything was so much clearer when I wrote it down. But I hadn’t had a chance. They’d been right here all day, all night, all morning. Writing about them while they were just a few feet away felt wrong.
Today, I promised myself. I’d make time today. I had to get my thoughts in order before we did anything. When I turned my head to look at Otrera, my neck objected with a phantom pinch of pain. Scowling, I rubbed at it. Last night, I’d been unable to stomach the thought of sleeping in the bed Jason and I’d shared after I abandoned him to the Pantheon. So, I’d pulled out the couch bed. Otrera had spent yesterday afternoon rearranging Jason’s office space, also known as most of the living room, to make room for her mattress. That was smart of her. The damage from the uncomfortable night of tossing and turning on the couch had long since healed, but the memory still hurt.
Aphrodite claimed my bed. After changing my sheets and complaining about the lack of pillows, she’d sprawled out on the king-sized bed with nary a thought to me or Otrera and crashed until she woke up in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder. Otrera and I both pretended that hadn’t happened, but I desperately wanted a few minutes alone with Otrera to talk about what we’d heard last night. The way Aphrodite screamed, how long it had taken her to calm down. I’d never heard anything like it before, and I never wanted to again.
Aphrodite sighed, stepping back from the countertop, apparently giving up on her reflection. “Look, they are going to know the second we mess with the shield. But if Medea and I can get ourselves placed behind the shield, they won’t know anything is wrong until they’re disarmed.”
“It’s a matter of seconds,” Otrera argued.
“Assuming she’s back at full strength,” Aphrodite replied, like “she” wasn’t standing right next to her. “I don’t know how long it takes to recover from moving a land mass.” The twist in her lips told me what a stupid idea she thought that had been.
But it had worked, hadn’t it? It had hurt like hell, but it had worked. I arched a brow at her in my reflection.
“If we try it your way,” Aphrodite said to Otrera, “we risk alerting everyone to what we’re doing, then being stuck there with no way to ‘port ourselves or the weapons out. With my way, it’s all one shot. If it doesn’t work, no one even knows we tried, so we live to try another day.”
“It’s a moot point at the moment,” I reminded them, finally working up the nerve to speak. “I’m still pretty burnt out from moving the island yesterday.” Feeling the power missing from my body last night was part of what had kept me tossing and turning. It was like a physical ache. After a few hours’ rest, I could feel some growing tendrils within me, but not enough for what Aphrodite was talking about.
Concern flickered in Aphrodite’s eyes, and she nodded, her face dead serious. “We can’t risk draining your powers completely. So we’re going to have to wait a few days.”
“Days?” Otrera objected. “Yesterday, we were looking at escaping this island as soon as possible. Why not get out of here as soon as Medea’s recovered, then teleport back in when her powers are completely back? Hell, let’s meet up with the Pantheon and bring one of them with us if you’re worried Medea can’t manage all of that. Everyone wins! We’re safe, you’re reunited with your . . . brother.” Otrera cringed as though she’d tasted something foul.
Aphrodite glanced up at the ceiling as though she was praying for patience, and I wondered who that particular prayer would be directed to.
“I told you last night, divine genetics—”
“Don’t work that way,” Otrera said by rote. “They pass on power. The incest taboo is a human thing that makes total sense because of the way mankind works, but you’re all different and special. Yadayadayada. I’ve spent the last two and half years of my life on an island full of super inbred demigods. I’ve heard the spiel. It doesn’t mean it’s not gross.”
I fought back a smile. I’d always wanted to live out scenes from my favorite TV shows. And now, here I sat, listening to my roommates, my two best friends with wildly different personalities, who cared about each other more than they dared to admit, gripe at one another. I realized that as long as I ignored the death, the destruction, and the terrifying stakes, this was the happiest I’d ever been.
“You wanna know what’s gross?” Aphrodite challenged.
I stepped in before there could be actual bloodshed. “Otrera, if we do it your way,” I pitched my voice loud to drown out their bickering, “they won’t owe us. And you and I need them to owe us.”
“Exactly,” Aphrodite said. “An entire island popping up in Poseidon’s domain isn’t going to go unnoticed for long. Once he finds us, the rest of the Pantheon will follow. If we neutralize the threat before they get here, it will be better for everyone.”
Otrera still looked like she wanted to argue, but a glance at her watch cut her off short. “I’m on breakfast duty today.” She scowled at the watch, as if she could make it turn back time through sheer force of will. “Do not—” she held up a finger to me and Aphrodite in warning “—do anything stupid until I get back.”
Aphrodite bristled at the order, but I shot her a quelling look as I followed Otrera through the tiny cabin. I couldn’t set foot in the living room without running into bedding. The three of us living here made for some pretty cramped quarters.
I loved it.
“We won’t,” I lied.
Chapter XV
Medea
AS SOON AS OTRERA left, I led Aphrodite to the dumpsters behind the hospital. The dumpsters were housed in a wide, concrete courtyard, tucked out of sight by three short walls. Even before the oppressive rain clouds took permanent residence over the island, this area had always been shaded by the hospital, so the walls were slimy and mildewed no matter how often we’d pressure-washed.
The constant rain had definitely not helped.
“Oh my gods.” Aphrodite’s nose wrinkled as she took in the smell of garbage so pungent I could taste it.
Ignoring the odor emanating from the dumpsters, I pulled Aphrodite up to the pink, cinderblock wall of the hospital. “Feel.”
“What are you—?” When I pressed her hand against the seam where the door should have been, her golden eyes widened. “I didn’t sense this at all.”
I switched to Greek. A useless precaution, anyone would be able to understand Aphrodite’s response, even if they didn’t understand my question. “Is there a way to break the shield without anyone noticing?”
“Maybe . . .” Gold hair fell over her face as she tilted her head, studying the thick stone. “Can you sense power signatures?”
“Can I sense what?” I raised my voice to be heard over the plinking of raindrops bouncing off my plastic poncho.
“Power signatures.” Aphrodite flicked a damp tendril of golden hair off her face. “Everyone’s power has a different flavor. You should be able
to get a read on how much power is being expended, and who is using it.”
“I can sense how much power is being used.” It wasn’t much. “And I know who can make a shield.”
She waved me off impatiently when I started listing names. “You already told me that.”
My breath hitched. Gods, we’d told her everything, hadn’t we? Part of me felt upset at how easily I’d been played, but the rest of me was just relieved. We’d handed the gods all the information they needed to destroy us. And instead, they’d tried to negotiate.
I made the right choice. I let out a huge breath, relief expanding in my chest. I’d hoped as much, but so far my judgment had kind of sucked.
“What I want to know . . .” Aphrodite probed at the shield, faintly visible with the shimmer of rain water. “Is who is maintaining this shield. If it’s just a matter of making sure one person doesn’t realize this shield is down, that’s easy. Ten, not so much. Plus, you need practice with power signatures if you’re going to get all the weapons off this island.”
It couldn’t be all ten of our shield casters. It took five of them to circle the island. They rotated who was on and off shield duty to build their power reserves back up.
Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance as I tried to feel for the different “flavors” she’d described, keeping the shield casters in my mind just in case that bit of familiarity helped. Eventually, I gave up with a muttered curse. “I can’t.”
“It takes a while to learn.” She smiled reassuringly, but I could hear the strain in her voice. “We’ll keep working on it until your powers come back.”
A thud sounded beneath the shield. Startled, I jerked back. Aphrodite wrapped her long, golden fingers around my pale wrist and yanked me behind the dumpsters.
“Gods, I can’t take it anymore,” a demigod I didn’t recognize complained. Gravel crunched as the stranger walked out of the hidden wing, followed closely by one of Narcissus’s latest recruits, Amendius.
A demigod I didn’t recognize? I edged forward. The smell of cigarette smoke filled the concrete enclave thick enough to feel like I was licking the bottom of an ashtray, despite the rain. Surely I’d have noticed anyone who smelled that bad on the island.
“I thought she was supposed to be unconscious.”
“She is,” Amendius said. He leaned against the wall, getting gray grit on his standard-issue plastic poncho.
“Then why the hell won’t she stop screaming?” He kicked at the ground, sending a shower of rocks clattering against the metal dumpsters.
Beside me, I felt Aphrodite tense.
Hades hadn’t been the only god held captive in the hidden wing. There’d been a goddess as well. She’d looked emaciated, and her body was crisscrossed with scars from gods knew what had been done to her.
That’s what they’d do to Aphrodite if she gets caught, I realized, fear spiking through my chest.
“They never last long once they get to this point.” Amendius tilted his head up, allowing the rainwater to drip across his golden forehead. “The scientists will wring out every drop of data they can from her before they move on to the male.”
Aphrodite gasped, and I felt her drop to the ground beside me.
What was she doing? I reached for her, instinctively readying myself to teleport us both out of there, power reserves be damned. But before my hand could grasp hers, I heard the door slam against the cement wall.
“Get in here,” a panicked voice cried. “He’s seizing! We need—”
The two men hustled inside, the door vanishing behind them as it closed.
Aphrodite clutched the corner of the dumpster with one hand, clasping the other over her mouth. Pain was written across her face.
“What’s wrong?” My heart slammed in my chest hard enough to hurt as I glanced behind us toward the pink stone of the shielded wall. Those guys could be back any second.
Her furrowed brow relaxed, and she managed to stand, shakily. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Aphrodite!” I fell into step beside her as we headed back to the muddy, dirt road that led to the cabins. “What was that?”
“Adonis. They’re doing something to him.” A shudder wracked her frame. “And it hurt.”
Chapter XVI
Aphrodite
RAINWATER SHIMMERED on a dirt road too soaked to absorb another drop as we made our way down to the dining hall. The air tasted like wet salt and . . . sulfur? I frowned, trying to catch another whiff of the stuff.
“So,” Medea said, still trying to puzzle out the divine mess that was my life. “You can feel what they do to Adonis because you’re connected by . . . power?”
“Right. When I made him a god, it initiated a temporary connection. We’re sharing powers until his body stabilizes.”
“And . . .” Anemic sunlight fighting to break through the clouds bathed her in a sickly, yellow light. “That’s different than the way Persephone can feel everything that’s done to Hades?”
Drawing in a deep breath, I drew upon whatever patience I had left. It wasn’t much. “Yeah, that’s equilibrium. It’s a marriage bond thing.”
“Right. That makes much more sense,” Medea said, her voice making it clear that it made no sense at all.
I didn’t care if it made sense or not. Medea had been asking me question after question about how gods worked for the last twenty-four hours. I answered on autopilot, my mind still back in the hidden wing with Adonis. What were they doing with him?
“And you said Persephone’s making it do this?” Medea’s slender frame was hunched over in a futile effort to diminish the deluge of chilling rain. “Rain for all eternity?”
I nodded, tired of trying to make myself heard over the downpour. Ares and I hadn’t stuck around for the end of Jason’s meeting with Persephone, but Medea assured me Persephone hadn’t been hurt.
Poor Persephone. The demigods didn’t know about all the changes she was working to make within the Pantheon. All they knew was that Zeus was dead. To them, it seemed like a great time to make a statement. I shivered as another growl of thunder filled the air. They couldn’t know they were alienating the most powerful ally they could ever hope to make.
“Well, she can make the rain stop anytime now.” Medea threw her hands in the air, rainwater sparkling atop her purple nails. “Message received. She’s upset.”
I didn’t know if Persephone could stop without Hades to coach her. She was channeling more power than any deity had since the days of the Primordials, and she was still pretty new at it. Hades had been around during the height of Olympian power and had never grown as weak as the other gods, thanks to his never-ending source of soul worship. He had more experience maneuvering a lot of power. He was an ideal mentor for Persephone, a neophyte to having powers at all. But Persephone was strong. She’d gotten by without Hades before in way worse circumstances.
“Of course, if she’s upset now, this is nothing compared to how she’ll react if she actually feels them hurting Hades.” Medea glanced over at me, her violet eyes worried. “We need to get in there before they do that. We know who can shield. We could use that. Drug them. Knock them all out, and—”
I stepped straight into a muddy puddle, and hissed as the cold water overtook my boots. “Everyone already suspects we’re working against Narcissus. There’s no way we can get to that many people without raising more suspicion. If we accidentally kill one of them—”
The ground jerked sideways, knocking me off my feet and into the mud-slicked road with a frigid splash. A loud crack split the air. Screams and a surprised yell erupted from the direction of the dining hall.
“What’s happening?” Medea scrambled upright. “Is she doing this too? That’s not going to help!”
“No, this isn’t Persephone.” I watched the intense back-and-forth sh
aking of the ground beneath my golden hand. “It’s an earthquake.” The keyword dredged up all kinds of information.
Created deities like myself knew almost everything. The older gods had withheld some information, but not about natural laws or human stuff. Having everything floating around in my head all the time would be like living in the world’s most jumbled website. Information overload. So instead, when I thought of a particular topic, all the information, relevant and otherwise, popped up in my mind.
“Poseidon, then?” Medea struggled to her feet, balancing on the shifting ground with alacrity.
“What? No.” Shoving aside the useless facts about earthquakes of historic note, I zeroed in on the information that could help me right now.
Most quakes only lasted a few seconds at best, but this one felt like it was just getting started. There were too many different types of movement for a single quake. The ground rippled and rolled and churned all at once. Something was off.
My mind latched on to the way the sand had shifted beneath me after my near-drowning experience, and I swore. When Medea moved the island, she must have destabilized it. Without being attached to the seabed, the island was like a cracker floating in a bowl of soup, slowly breaking into pieces and dissolving by inches. We had to get out of here.
A firm lurch sent me sprawling on my face with a splash, reminding me I couldn’t go anywhere right now. Not until the ground settled. I was getting sick of feeling like a speck in a vast and dangerous world. Gods weren’t supposed to feel overwhelmed by their creations.
Medea dropped to her hands and knees as a resounding crash came from the direction of the dining hall, spurring a new volley of shrieks and screams. “Aphrodite, what is this?”
Venus Rising: Book 3 Aphrodite Trilogy (The Daughters of Zeus 6) Page 10
