Venus Rising: Book 3 Aphrodite Trilogy (The Daughters of Zeus 6)

by Kaitlin Bevis

  The door burst open.

  Chapter XXV

  Medea

  “THIS IS RIDICULOUS, Medea,” Otrera muttered darkly beside me as we made our way to the courtyard. Without the storage buildings lighting the way, everything on the island disappeared in a shroud of darkness. We relied on flashlights to navigate up and down the steep path leading to the cabins. “The last thing these guys need is alcohol.”

  I still felt cold inside from my talk with Narcissus. But when we stepped into the circle of light surrounding the broken dining hall, it was like coming home. The music blaring out of the speakers in the corner was familiar and upbeat, a welcome change from the soundtrack of agonized moans I’d grown accustomed to. Golden people milled around in clusters, laughing and smiling. With a drink in hand, we could ignore the rubble we dodged, we could avert our eyes from the shell of the dining hall, and we could pretend this was the same island we’d all grown to love. Gods, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this. “Maybe he’s just trying to keep up morale.”

  “If they weren’t directing their anger inward, I’d agree with you.” Otrera shook her head, her ponytail swinging gently with the motion. She’d changed into jeans and a Wonder Woman sweatshirt in concession to the cold. But it didn’t stop her from shivering when the wind blew.

  Inward. My eyes flickered toward the darkened path leading back to the cabins. Guilt stabbed at me for teleporting Aphrodite with the island. I could have left her behind. Or I could have just come back long enough to grab Otrera and teleport away. Now we were all stuck here, on a sinking island. “I’m worried about her.”

  “Me too.” Otrera lowered her voice as we neared the throng of golden people.

  “Ladies!” Zeetes, a tall, lanky demigod, offered me a Solo cup, and Otrera a bottle of water. “Welcome to the party.”

  “Thanks.” I took a cautious sip of something, cold, fruity, and extremely alcoholic. A pang went through my chest. He knew exactly what we liked, everyone did. You didn’t spend over a year as part of a community this small without getting to know one another.

  And we were going to abandon them.

  “Not a problem.” He pitched his voice loud enough to be heard over the music and leaned against one of the tables we’d salvaged from the dining hall. “We weren’t sure you were going to make it. Is Elise coming?”

  “She didn’t think it’d be a good idea.” Otrera’s gold eyes glittered in accusation.

  I didn’t understand the way everyone was treating Aphrodite. They’d always had anger toward the gods, sure, but the entire climate of the island had changed. At least Zeetes had the grace to look ashamed.

  The thin cup dipped with the pressure of my fingers. “Can I ask you something?”

  Zeetes tilted his head as if he were trying to puzzle out the words behind my accent. “You had a question?”

  I nodded.

  “Shoot.”

  “I’m really struggling with the shield.” I followed his gaze upward where raindrops rolling down the outside of the shield cut clear paths through the condensation. No rain could reach the surface of the island, but no water could escape either. A chilling mist that grew thicker by the hour hung thick in the air, casting all the lights in a fuzzy glow, which was pretty, but it also gave off the odor of stagnant ocean water so strong, I could practically taste dead fish. “Glauce could keep it going without even thinking about it, but I’m just not there yet. Do you have any pointers for me?”

  Zeetes brightened at the chance to be useful, and launched into an enthusiastic explanation of shield work that I’d heard second-hand from Jason over a dozen times. I smiled and nodded in all the right places, taking an occasional sip from my fruity drink. But my attention never left the red, plastic cup in his hand.

  The shield did weigh on me. I felt bone-weary in a way I hadn’t since the cluster surgeries back in my mother’s hospital. But that didn’t mean I was completely powerless. It took almost nothing to ‘port the crushed-up sleeping pills sitting back home on the coffee table into his drink.

  One down, seven to go.

  “Zeetes! My man,” Melas called from across the shattered courtyard. “Quit flirting and get over here.”

  Zeetes flushed. “Um . . . yeah. So, did that help?”

  “It did.” The lie felt sticky and foul emerging from my lips. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problemo. I’ve gotta . . .” He inclined his head toward Melas. “But hey, you know who you should talk to? Idas.” Zeetes lifted his arm to point toward the makeshift bar. “He’s way better at this than I am.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  The second he walked away, Otrera snatched the red, plastic cup out of my hand. “Never accept any drink you didn’t see made, or make yourself.”

  “I can heal.” And it wasn’t like anyone would risk drugging me with Steele.

  “Still!”

  Despite my ire, I warmed at the concern in her voice. Otrera had been my friend before Aphrodite’s arrival on the island, but the craziness of the past few days had drawn us much closer. That, and your shared grief over Glauce.

  I studied the athletic demigoddess out of the corner of my eye. The determined set of her shoulders, the fierce flicker in her golden eyes as she met the gaze of each demigod that passed us. Otrera was a force to be reckoned with. If she ever found out I was behind Glauce’s death, she’d hate me.

  You just need to make sure she never finds out, I thought, plucking the red plastic cup from her hand. Her biting retort couldn’t compete with the loud music, so I just grinned at her and took a sip. Then everything will be fine.

  Fine? Our entire friendship, well, at least the strongest parts of it, were built upon the foundation of a massive lie.

  And my skills with foundations had already proven rocky at best.

  It wasn’t a matter of if she found out. When she found out, we’d shatter like this festering island.

  Oh well. I took a deep pull from my drink. The alcohol stung my throat, and I blinked, eyes watering. Best enjoy this while you can then.

  “Idas,” Otrera yelled as we ambled over to the “bar.”

  We’d found a few salvageable tables inside the ruins of the dining hall. Most were scattered throughout the courtyard, surrounded by groups of demigods. But three had been pushed together and topped with every surviving bottle of alcohol and fruit juice left on the island.

  The muscular demigod was in a deep conversation with Deucalion just beside the table. His arms swung wildly as he argued some point. Given the tense set of Deucalion’s shoulders and his crossed arms, it wasn’t going well.

  “Idas!” It took a few tries to get his attention over the blaring music, but eventually Idas turned when we called his name.

  “Medea, Otrera, hey. Whoa, watch out!”

  My foot slipped on a thin layer of mud. I managed to catch myself instead of crashing into the table, but my drink splashed on my purple shirt, bathing me in sticky fruit juice and rum.

  “You okay?” Deucalion steadied me as Idas dug under the table for the paper towels.

  “Yup,” I managed, my face hot with humiliation. “Sorry about that. Idas, got a minute?”

  Idas glanced to his left where Deucalion hovered at his side. “Um . . . we were actually . . .”

  “No, no. Go ahead,” Deucalion shouted to be heard over the music and dropped a quick kiss on Idas’s cheek. “I’m done talking about this. Why don’t you come back to the cabin when you’re willing to let it drop.”

  The muscular demigod drew in a sharp breath like he was going to argue. But before he could utter a single syllable, Deucalion slipped through the crowd. Idas glared after him, working his jaw, before turning back to me. “What?”

  “Um . . .” Nervous laughter bubbled up my throat as I accepted the
paper towels from his outstretched hand. I dabbed at my shirt, then at my lips. Though I tasted blood, the napkin came back white. If I’d bitten my lips or tongue when I stumbled, I’d already healed. “Zeetes suggested I come to you for shielding advice.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure. What do you need to know?

  I launched into my questions, feeling optimistic despite my guilt. This was a great plan. The shield casters couldn’t sense power like I could, but they’d notice if their shield was tampered with. I knew they’d sensed me adding power to the shield to extend it around the island, so it stood to reason they’d feel one another drop away. But there were eight shield casters left. Too many to attempt to knock out at the same time. So, we were piggybacking off happy hour. If they got drunk and passed out after an onslaught of traumatic events, maybe no one would get suspicious enough to raise an alarm.

  My stomach twisted with guilt when Idas lifted the red cup to his lips. Aphrodite had guestimated a safe, yet strong, dosage for each demigod based on her estimate of their height and weight. She knew pretty much everything there was to know about medicine, so they couldn’t have been in safer hands. But she’d been clear that mixing the sleeping pills with alcohol could have negative results. Still, it wasn’t like they could die if the mixture went south. That’d be bad enough. But they’d just linger, in endless pain, screaming for the mercy of death.

  Regardless, we were running out of time.

  I was running out of time.

  When I’d cast the shield around the island, I’d felt strong. Powerful. For one second, I’d realized that I was the strength on this island. That I could control my own destiny.

  Then the shield slammed down, trapping everyone I cared about on a stinking pile of dying rock, and I’d realized something important. I could have all the power in the world, but it didn’t matter if I didn’t know how to use it. The price for my stupid mistake had been far too dear. At least with someone else in control, I had somewhere else to lay the blame.

  “Doesn’t it bother you,” Otrera interrupted Idas’s helpful, if terse, suggestions, “being used like a resource? A thing? Without you guys, this island literally falls apart. Has Narcissus even acknowledged that?”

  Idas blinked. Though he’d been helpful in his answers, I could tell his mind had left when Deucalion did. Now his gold eyes focused on Otrera, startled into attentiveness.

  “People are resources. If I wasn’t using my power to help out this way, I’d be using my strength, my time, my mind, my something to help in some other way. That’s just how the world works. Besides . . .” Idas shrugged, setting his now-empty cup down on the dented table behind him. It lasted for all of two seconds before the wind snatched it up and slammed it against one of the liquor bottles in a crunch of plastic. “If the shield falls, I drown too.”

  Was Idas right? Would I always be a tool to someone, with or without powers? Was everyone? I didn’t know if that made me feel better or worse.

  When I spotted Typhys pushing his way through the crowd, I forced the disturbing thought from my mind. I could dwell on it later. For now, I had a job to do. Two down, six to go.

  Chapter XXVI

  Aphrodite

  “OH, COME ON, Elise,” Calais slurred, dragging me toward his cabin. His breath reeked of alcohol. The tall, muscular demigod didn’t even seem to notice my struggle to escape his iron grasp. “You’re willing to whore around with the Pantheon, so why not hang out with us?”

  “Yeah, what’s wrong?” another voice called. “Not divine enough for you?”

  Darkness swallowed the path between cabins. Ahead, Calais’s porch light bled into the mist, growing brighter as we grew near.

  I refused to pick up my pace, so he dragged me along. My feet slid through the mud with a sickening, sucking sound. When we reached the wooden porch of Calais’s cabin, he shoved me in front of him up the short flight of stairs. His sycophants crowded behind me. There couldn’t have been more than ten demigods in total, but they felt like a much larger group squeezed onto the narrow porch. I couldn’t breathe. Bile bit at my throat as I squeezed into the corner. If I went through the screen door leading into the cabin, I wasn’t getting out.

  “See, that wasn’t so hard.” The muscular demigod flashed me a malicious grin and motioned for one of the other demigods to hand me a beer. “Thank you for joining us.”

  My hand clenched around the glass as I studied the snickering man before me. How much damage could I do?

  Calais had been nice once. A bit overeager maybe, but nice. He’d offered to show me around the gym when I tagged along with Otrera, Medea, and Glauce. Then he’d about killed himself working out to impress me and the other girls. A mere week ago, I wouldn’t have thought him capable of the rage smoldering in his eyes.

  He lost friends in that quake, I reminded myself. Sort of. They all had. I knew better than anyone how enraging it felt to be powerless and backed into a corner, aching with loss. Maybe I would have lashed out at anyone convenient, too. Too bad I’d never had so handy a target.

  “Noticed you weren’t at practice today,” he said, referring to Narcissus’s horrible training sessions with the Olympian Steele. “Figured you’d be itching to get back at the gods after what they did to you.” His eyes gleamed when he looked me over. “Unless you enjoyed it.”

  Rather than dignify that with a response, I bolted forward, trying to get past his massive frame. The other demigods shoved me back, hooting and making derisive sounds.

  “What is this?” I fought for control, meeting each of their eyes. At least Neleus, one of the youngest demigods on the island, had the decency to look away, ashamed.

  “You’re still asking for mercy,” Calais spat. “Still begging us to stop our campaign against the gods. Asking us to surrender.” He moved closer to me, anger radiating off his muscles with a palpable tension.

  Okay, I was out of bravado. I could understand why they were lashing out, but that didn’t make it easier to be their target. It didn’t make it less intimidating. Swallowing hard, I backed up and bumped into a sweat-slicked demigod built like a brick wall.

  “Cal.” My voice went hoarse with panic. “Come on.”

  “You know, I felt sorry for you.” Calais stepped closer, nearly erasing the space between us.

  I hefted the bottle in shaking hands, but a set of fingers locked around my wrist before I could swing it. Sour barley sloshed down my sleeve as I stumbled into the demigod behind me. Sandwiched between Calais and a wall of human flesh, I panicked. All thoughts of coping mechanisms fled as I lashed out in a tangle of limbs and suppressed shrieks.

  I couldn’t count the number of hands restraining me.

  “We all felt sorry for you,” Calais added, plucking the bottle from my sweaty fingers and tossing it over the edge of the porch.

  The others murmured their assent as I gasped for breath.

  “Getting stabbed like that over a miscommunication? That sucked. But you let them get into your head. Brainwash you.” His eyes raked over me. “Now you’re here, acting like you’re too good for mortal men?” Calais moved forward again, pressing the length of his body against mine, laughing when I tried to squirm away

  “Stop.” My voice broke.

  “Oh.” Calais dragged his hands all the way up my arms in a sickening caress. “You’re worried about that? Well I’ve got news for you, sister.” He jerked me forward, his hands crushing my shoulders. His palm bit into the still-bleeding scratch left by Steele, causing me to yelp in pain. “You couldn’t pay me enough to touch a god’s leftovers, you disgusting slut.”

  He shoved me, sending me sprawling down the mud-caked steps hard enough to knock the wind out of me.

  “You failed to answer my questions back at the hospital.” Calais hopped off the steps. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”

  I cried
out as his foot slammed into my middle again and again.

  The world tilted when he yanked me to my feet. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Not . . .” I spat in his face, horrified when I tasted blood, “ . . . yours.”

  He growled, his fist rearing back, but before it could connect, an entirely new kind of pain exploded through me.

  Adonis.

  Slicing, poking, prodding. Pushing too much, too fast.

  I let out an agonized scream as phantom hands massaged my heart. Electricity pulsed, once, twice, three times. Calais’s fist crashed into my face with a blur of golden skin.

  “Are you working with them?” the muscular demigod demanded, yanking me forward by my shirt. Fabric tore, but I was too far gone to notice. “Did you know?”

  “Hey,” Narcissus called.

  Calais dropped me to the ground. I writhed, twisting in agony as phantom needles burrowed into my skin, stitching Adonis back together. My own face throbbed, my ribs screamed in pain, and a new sensation filled me. Power. It was coming back.

  Pain sparked along every nerve ending as my power met the residual Steele in my system and washed Adonis away. What did it mean? Gods, what had they done to him? Was he—?

  A sob tore from my throat. I should never have brought him back. He would have been better off if I’d just left him bleeding.

  Narcissus yelled indecipherable words as I scrambled back in the stagnant mud, trying to get to my feet, but I couldn’t coordinate my limbs enough to cooperate.

  “Come on.” Narcissus’s golden hand reached down to help me up.

  “Do not.” My vision blurred and the ground slid to the side. I hunched over, coughing up a mixture of blood, mud, and whipped cream flavored vomit.