The girl was named Kristen, a sophomore who was studying to be a social worker. She worked at a place called Barberitos and was off tonight if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee at the Two Story Coffee House.
“No, thanks,” I said without explanation.
Her face fell. “Not a coffee drinker? We could go get something stronger. Ever been to Trapeze?”
“No, I like coffee.” I glanced at the map. Were we going the right way? I looked up to ask and noticed her glum expression, then thought over our conversation and sighed, hearing the unintentional, unspoken qualifier. Just not with you. Damn. I was normally good at human interaction. Then again, the dead weren’t all that flirtatious, so this was new territory for me. “It’s not...” I hesitated. “You seem nice.”
Kristen brightened.
“But I’m married.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at my left hand. “I don’t see a ring. Oh wow, I actually just said that out loud.” Her face colored. “Uh, um... My sister didn’t do the ring thing either. She told her fiancé she’d rather they spend the money on traveling somewhere cool.”
What did rings have to do with anything? Right. Humans and their marketing traditions. Some Greek idiot believed the ring finger on the left hand had an artery that led straight to the heart. And they bought it. How such an intelligent species could be so uninformed about their own physiology for so much of their existence was beyond me. Humans scoffed at the idea of gods and turned their backs on us, leaving us all to die. Yet some ridiculous notion that wearing a chunk of metal on a certain finger bound two souls until death stuck. Figures.
Wait a minute, should I have given Persephone a ring?
“This is it,” Kristen announced, startling me out of my reverie. I jerked my head up, surprised by the sudden appearance of a brick building. She pulled a notebook out of her backpack and scrawled a number onto a piece of paper. “In case you change your mind.”
Ignoring the piece of paper, I thanked her and climbed the stone stairs. The heavy wooden door thudded closed behind me as I scanned the room numbers for Athena’s lecture hall. Her room was packed. I slipped in with a group of students who somehow managed to look studious and sloppy at the same time. Athena’s back was turned while she wrote on the board. Very little conversation buzzed around me while I found a seat in the back and settled in. The students near me didn’t talk or look at each other much. Instead, they all had their heads bowed over their desks as they stared down at their laps with laser-like intensity.
I frowned, wondering what kind of class Athena was teaching when the boy next to me solved the mystery.
“Classic.” He spoke with a slow drawl, seemingly unbothered by the greasy chunk of dark hair hanging in his eyes. He flicked his gaze from me to the board. “You’ve read it, right?”
I must have looked confused because he drew his cell phone from beneath his desk and waved it at the board.
I glanced at what Athena had written.
Do androids dream of electric sheep?
His fingers moved across the screen of his phone. “She posted it on ELC this morning, so you should be able to download it.” The boy started to add more but stopped when Athena turned to face the class.
“What does it mean to be human?” Athena asked. The entire room fell silent. Heads popped up, looked at her straight on, every eye glazed over with reverence. Subtle waves of charm washed through the room, commanding attention, drawing their worship, and likely opening their minds to her lecture. I couldn’t decide if I was disgusted or impressed. I’d never liked charm, but this seemed like a good use of it. The students hung on her every word, open, engaged, and learning. So long as Athena taught halfway decent material, this was one of the more mutually beneficial uses of charm I’d ever seen.
Athena hadn’t changed since the last time I saw her. She tucked her carefully coiffed brown hair behind her ear and looked out at the class with emotionless gray eyes. “We’ll talk theories in a moment, but I’d like to know your opinions. What makes you human? What makes you different from every other creature out there?”
“We can think?” a boy wearing a loose button up shirt and khakis called from the front row.
“We have emotions?” a girl asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her pinkie.
“We’re self-aware? Like, we think about thinking and time and stuff?”
Gods, when had college kids become so uncertain? All their replies ended with an upward lilt like they were asking a question instead of supplying an answer.
After a couple of students gave faltering answers, I called from the back of the room, voice strong and certain, “They can lie.”
Athena jerked her head toward me, panic flashing in her eyes as she scanned the rows of students. When her gaze locked on mine, the color drained from her face. “Class dismissed.”
The students looked at her in confusion. Athena didn’t look away from me, but her voice took on a panicked edge. “Get out, now.” Her charm was in full effect.
The room filled with noise. Chairs scraped across the blue carpet as they were pushed back from the desks. Papers rustled as they were gathered and shoved into folders. Hushed whispers whipped around me as the students filed out of the classroom. A few glanced my way.
I stretched my legs and folded my arms over my chest. When the last student left, I curled my lips in a grin. “Philosophy?”
“I didn’t know about Zeus. I didn’t.”
“You know about him now. Did your message get lost in transit, or did you have the impression I wouldn’t be interested in the news?” I could see her pulse pounding in her neck.
Athena pressed her elbows to her sides like she was trying to make herself smaller, less threatening. All she accomplished was wrinkling her gray power suit.
“Where is he, Athena?”
Her chin trembled. “I don’t know.”
I unfolded myself from the tiny desk and stood, keeping my stance casual, then walked through the row of desks. Athena tensed. She looked ready to run. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I stopped at the edge of the first row, leaving her the front of the room.
She inched away until her back met the white board. “All I have are theories.”
“I’m going to need more than theories.”
Chapter XV
Persephone
“PERSEPHONE.”
My eyes fluttered open. Hades. It was his voice. My vision blurred then focused. He knelt in front of me, his eyes marred with dark lines of worry.
“You’re here.” I threw my arms around him.
His lips found mine and he kissed me, pulling me to my feet.
“How are you here?” I asked, breaking off the kiss. My head was pounding and the room swirled around me in indistinct colors. I swayed on my feet, and his grip on me tightened.
“You’re dreaming.”
“Right.” Closing my eyes against the crushing disappointment, I leaned into Hades, drawing on his strength as that spark of hope sputtered and died. Of course it was just a dream. Dreamwalking was one of many forms of communication the gods could use. I sucked at it, which explained the room swirlies.
“I don’t know how long we’ve got until you wake up.” His voice was urgent. “Persephone... Did you—”
“No.” I slid my necklace back and forth on the chain and started to explain how I couldn’t swear fealty, but Hades interrupted me.
“I have a plan.”
All my worry fell away. Yes, this situation was bad, but Hades would find me. Yeah, it would be better to save myself, but I was in over my head here. He could fix this. “I knew you were going to get me out of here.”
Hades looked down. When his dark hair fell into his face, I pushed it off his forehead. He jerked his head up, seeming surprised, then closed
his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t promise that, but...” He hesitated and fumbled for my hands.
Looking down at our entwined fingers, I frowned. There was something...
“Do you trust me?” His voice was subdued, as if he weren’t sure how I would answer.
I looked up at him. “Of course.” I trusted Hades absolutely.
“If you swear fealty to me, then you can’t swear to him. It’s not a perfect plan... But... “
I frowned. “Will that work? Thanatos swore fealty to me after he swore fealty to Zeus.”
Hades’ thumb moved back and forth on mine. “That’s different. You and Zeus are in the same bloodline.”
I stared at our hands, a feeling of unease creeping through me. “Why can’t I hear you?”
“What?”
“In my head, you said once we hit equilibrium—”
“Persephone, this is really important.”
I pulled my hand out of his grip. Annoyance flickered over Hades’ face, so I moved away from him, unnerved. “Why can’t I hear you?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Maybe it was the lightning?”
“Is it permanent?” Voice quavering, I fiddled with my necklace. “I couldn’t even hear you when we kissed. That... I mean... We’ve always—Did it sever everything? I mean, are we even still married?”
Hades drew back, looking surprised. “I’ve never heard of anything breaking a marriage like that.”
At least the idea seemed to worry him, too. I was painfully aware of the fact that Hades only married me to save my life. It was supposed to be permanent, but if it wasn’t... would he want to marry me again? Even if he did, would he insist on waiting until I was older or some other nonsense? We’d just gotten over the age debate. If it started again...
“Persephone.” His voice was gentle. “This is really important. If the marriage still holds, then Zeus can use you to get into the Underworld. The Underworld needs to be protected. We can figure everything else out later.” He gripped my hand again. “Please?”
His grip felt wrong. It was like our hands didn’t know each other. Most of the time, when Hades and I held hands, it felt natural, like he was an extension of me. I looked up and met his eyes. “You want me to swear fealty to you?”
He nodded.
“So... What do I do, just say your name and—”
“Nothing formal. Just telling me you swear fealty is enough.”
I pursed my lips. “If we’re not married anymore, I’m pretty much useless to Zeus, right?”
He seemed to consider. “Zeus is still after your mother’s realm.”
“Is he?” I stood and put some distance between us.
“You seem remarkably unconcerned about this.” Hades’ voice was tight with anger.
“And you seem remarkably unconcerned about me. Not even going to ask if I’m okay, Hades?”
Surprise flashed in his eyes, but not regret. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He sighed. “Persephone, I’m sorry. I know this is a lot, but I really need you to—”
I walked farther away. “You’re not Hades.”
He sneered. “You’re pathetic. You should have been left to Boreas. You’ve been nothing but trouble. Do you honestly think you’re worth it?”
I glared at Zeus. He knew that I knew, but he was trying to make it hurt more. If everything went his way, I’d never see Hades again. I refused to let this be the last thing I remembered of him.
“You’re a novelty. A goddess who acts human. But you’ll outgrow that and then what will you be? Do you really think you can compare to Hera? I’ve been with nymphs who have more depth than you. You... “
Adios, I thought. Nothing happened.
I frowned. That should have booted him out of my head and closed it to visitors.
Maybe it didn’t work if you were knocked out? I did my best to ignore him. But that didn’t stop him from talking.
And talking.
And talking.
I ignored him, or tried to. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to force myself into a deeper dreamless sleep by sheer force of will. I failed. And he kept on talking. Threatening.
Over the next few days, we fell into a routine of sorts. I’d wake up, and he’d torture me until I hit my breaking point. Then he’d knock me out before I could close my mind, and he’d wear different faces, mostly Hades, sometimes my mom. And he’d talk.
Constantly.
Saying terrible things. Things Hades would never say to me.
The words cut me like knives, but they also brought me a twisted sense of joy. As long as he was spending every spare moment trying to break me, he wasn’t watching them.
Chapter XVI
Aphrodite
DEMETER’S HOUSE was full of Muses, minor deities, and priestesses when Melissa, Adonis, and I got back. Her house wasn’t small, but it wasn’t built to be a conference hall either. Blinking, I tried to take them all in. Deities crowded on and around the sectional sofa, perched on the hearth of the fireplace, and sat on the wooden stairs leading up to the bedrooms. My head spun trying to match all the names with faces. I didn’t realize there were so many gods left. A priestess on her way out of the kitchen with a tray of finger foods tripped over a god—Thalia, I thought—lounging on the bottom step.
“Oh good!” Melissa’s mother, Minthe, hurried out of the kitchen, dodging the off-balance priestess with aplomb. She wore a white apron with red flowers on it. If I never saw floral patterns again, it would be too soon. Good gods, the thing had ruffles. “I was just about to go looking for you.”
Beside me, Melissa attempted a contrite expression but didn’t quite pull it off. She still looked entirely too happy about getting into trouble.
But come to think of it, Mrs. Minthe didn’t seem nearly upset enough. She looked relieved. And not, “yay, my daughter’s alive. I don’t have to file a missing persons report” relieved. Just “ooh, an extra set of hands” relieved.
“Can you grab the nice plates? You know, the ones in the box downstairs?”
Melissa tilted her head in confusion. “Don’t you want to know where I’ve been? What I’ve been doing?”
Now it was Minthe’s turn to look puzzled. “Did you leave?” An oven beeped in the kitchen, pulling the already distracted priestesses’ attention off her errant daughter. “Oh! I’ll just—” She moved toward the oven, looking more frazzled than concerned. “Uh, the nice plates, okay? You know the ones?”
Melissa nodded, looking shell-shocked. “Excuse me,” she murmured, stomping off toward the basement door. She threw it open with so much force it crashed into the horn Pan kept strapped to his back. “Sorry.”
I heard her foot hit every single step down to the basement.
“Would you like one?” Laurel, one of Demeter’s priestesses, asked.
“What?” I looked at the woman and then noticed the platter she carried of assorted vegetables interspersed with pineapples cut into the shape of flowers. The platter was white with delicate paintings of even more fricken flowers. “Sure,” I replied, grabbing a piece of celery and dipping it in ranch sauce.
“What’s with Melissa?” Adonis asked around a mouthful of a pig in a blanket.
I leaned against the front door—it was the only patch of unoccupied wall left—and took a bite of my celery, enjoying the crunch almost as much as making Adonis wait for an answer. “We’ve been gone for over twenty-four hours, and her mom didn’t notice.”
“Oh.” Adonis’ voice went solemn in understanding.
I wished I understood. Big deal if Melissa’s mom didn’t notice she was gone. Wasn’t not getting into trouble a good thing? But Melissa had sounded happy at the prospect of getting “killed” by her mother. Like doing something as
extreme as flying to another city, stealing a car, and vanishing with no word of where she’d gone would force Minthe to notice her.
Weird, I didn’t think humans needed worship to survive like we did. But maybe teenagers were different.
“Who are you?” A gray-eyed goddess asked.
I blinked, jolted from my reverie. “Aphrodite.”
“You’re new,” she observed. She didn’t introduce herself. “I’ll let you guess.”
I nodded, taking in her studious look. Charisma radiated off her in waves, subtle, but powerful and well controlled. I ticked off the short mental list of Zeus’ known daughters. “Athena?”
The name clicked into place, sending an onslaught of images and information through my head. Goddess of wisdom, liked horses, tended toward neutrality but never quite managed it. Thousands of details flickered to life in an instant. Knowing everything kind of hurt sometimes.
Still, it was better than a cold introduction. By allowing me to guess, she’d given me the chance to pull up most of the information on my own, so recovering from the knowledge dump wasn’t as brutal as it could have been.
“Good guess.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said with a grimace.
Athena gave me an understanding smile. “And you are?” She motioned to Adonis.
A flare of jealousy flashed through me, but I dismissed it. Adonis’ opinion of me came across crystal clear on the trip home. Rejection didn’t come easy for me, but I wasn’t about to get worked up over some lowly demigod.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Adonis said with a grin.
Irritation flickered across Athena’s face, and I smiled, happy to know I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like him. Melissa had hung on his every word all afternoon. It was annoying.
Athena saw my look and gave me a warm smile in return. My grin broadened. I felt a sense of kinship with her because she didn’t seem to wish I’d never been born. That pretty much made her the nicest person I’d ever met.
The doorbell rang, and since no one else moved to get it, I turned and pulled the door open. A man wearing a black leather jacket stood on the porch.
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