She pinned him with a glare. “That’s blackmail.”
“It would only be blackmail if you didn’t want to marry me.”
Hermes glanced back and forth between them as understanding dawned on him. “Wait, wait, wait... She hasn’t accepted the proposal yet? This is rich.”
“Because he only asked after I made an offhanded remark about wedding nights!”
“That’s not terribly surprising. Wedding nights are the best part of a marriage. Everyone knows that,” Hermes added not-so-helpfully.
“She will accept.” Ariston offered.
“Uh. She will decide that, thanks.” Lily rolled her eyes.
“Liiiiiiilllllly, come on now, look at ‘em.” Hermes pointed. When Ariston only blinked, Hermes elbowed him in the ribs and whispered that he needed to look dashing and not stoned.
“What about him?” Lily asked.
Ariston cleared his throat and straightened his posture. He attempted to smile but felt idiotic, so he left it at a lopsided smirk.
Hermes droned on, “He’s handsome, and honorable, and really damn tall. I’ve had the misfortune of seeing him naked, so I know he’s packing. He needs a haircut, which can be done while he’s sleeping and can’t do anything about it in the morning. What’s not to love?”
Ariston did smile then as Lily flung her arms up and let out a frustrated, “Ugh!” before she stormed back to the cabin.
“I think she’s coming around,” Hermes told him.
“Maybe.”
Pegasus took the opportunity to sneak off, thinking neither of the men noticed, but Hermes’ issue with him had been addressed. Ariston personally couldn’t care less about what he did as long as it didn’t involve biting his backside again. He said from the start Pegasus wasn’t fit to “guard” anyone, and low and behold, he’d been right. Off making pint-sized, flying menaces rather than watching for Boeotians.
Ah. Can’t really blame him with all the pheromones Lily and I are throwing off constantly? The air must be thick with it. At least someone is getting laid.
“Pan and Kat will be here soon. Kat wants measurements for a dress and suit. She said not to expect too elaborate, but she refuses to allow you guys to wed in ‘normal’ clothes.”
“And the rest of what we discussed?” They’d need rings, documentation, and a priest.
“Got it covered. With me in charge, what could go wrong?”
***
Adonis groaned and clutched his head. Sweat beaded against his brow, and he shuddered. Feeling like shit already, he almost wished he could die when Hermes landed in front of him, posed for a lecture. Hermes crossed his arms and leaned against a tree. “I thought you’d be gone by now. You don’t listen very well.”
“You’re not my father and not my boss, so quit nagging me every time you show up to deus ex machina Ariston’s life.”
“A god from the machine? Really, Adonis? Really? What are we, a Shakespeare play? I suppose the forest is our Globe Theater, and you are the treacherous villain of this piece. Oh, please grow out a villain-stache, and twist up the ends diabolically. Please.”
Adonis growled. “I’m serious. I’ve been watching them all week.” When he wasn’t incapacitated. “And every time there is a problem, it’s ‘call Hermes!’ What is it this time? Is the nymph being forced to watch the grass grow? The lot of you are becoming predictable.”
“First of all,” Hermes said, “Anyone with half a brain would call me of all the gods when they need divine interference. I’m, like, super fast.” He snapped his fingers, demonstrating the quickness. “And made of awesome. Secondly, if you’re bored you could always, oh, I don’t know... Go. Home. I could transport you. We could be there in literally two minutes.”
“You don’t even know where I live.”
Hermes immediately rumbled off his address, and Adonis snapped his jaw shut a minute later.
“Messenger of the gods, dimwit. If there is somewhere I need to locate in order to deliver a message, object, or person in some instances, I can find it. Remember when I used to escort souls to the banks of the river Styx so that the ferryman could take them into the Underworld?” And he sounded damned smug about it.
“Whatever.” His head had been splitting all day, even before Hermes graced him with his presence. His skin was clammy, and he’d even trembled throughout the night as though he’d come down with a fever. He’d not had one since he’d been human. Something was seriously wrong with him. Maybe the stress from his fight with Ariston fueled it. His temper had gotten out of hand, and though he wasn’t sorry for destroying the stupid rock, he regretted being such a dick about it.
If Hermes really could locate anything, that meant he could find things hidden. “Here’s the deal. If you take me to the syrinx, I won’t have a reason to hang around.”
“You disappoint me, Adonis.” Hermes tsked. “That would be cheating.”
“I wasn’t aware it was a game.”
“Of course it is a game. Think about it,” Hermes said, waving his hand in front of him to gesture to something unseen. “Dionysus sits prettily upon his corporate throne with his little Boeotian satyrs at his feet to do his bidding. Pan is slowly bringing the Arcadians together. He started with Ariston, who will play his hand, become human, and step out for good. It’s cool though, since we located Evander.” Hermes concluded smugly.
“The prince,” Adonis remembered him. He’d respected Evander. After the curse, though, Adonis had lost his concern for anyone but himself. No one would keep him from preying on innocent people except himself. Sure, Dionysus had attempted to bring women to them who didn’t care about their appearances, but that hadn’t worked out so well. The maenad experiment had gone horribly wrong. Those bitches ended up batshit crazy. Adonis shuddered.
“Yes, Prince Evander. Pan may not want to wear a crown—even if that crown may be metaphorical—but assuming there was one... What happens when a king concedes his reign?”
“Uh, the heir takes the throne. But wouldn’t that be his unborn child?” He’d noticed the redheaded woman was very pregnant when he saw her. And why was Hermes going on about thrones and crowns?
“The baby isn’t born yet, and would take years to prepare for such a role. No, it is time for the prince to become a king at last.” He steeple his fingers together, tapping the tips gleefully. “Figuratively, of course. I doubt there will be an actual crown or the word ‘king’ thrown around and all that.”
Dionysus would flip his shit when Adonis relayed the message. Did Hermes mean to imply Pan and Evander would conspire against the Boeotians? “Why are you telling me this?”
The corner of Hermes’ mouth hiked up in a knowing smirk. “To see where the cards lie. If you tell Dionysus, he’ll have an advantage. Pan doesn’t even realize what path he is on. But Evander already has three knights in his court.” Hermes scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “Why in the name of Hades am I using medieval terminology? We’re Greek. Time to cut back on the HBO.”
“All the Boeotians are on Dionysus’ payroll. We have meetings and live in the same city. Our number is larger.” Adonis couldn’t believe Hermes was openly spilling Pan’s secrets. There had to be a catch.
“Paid soldiers are happy soldiers, but loyal soldiers are trustworthy.”
Okay. “And what does this have to do with the syrinx?” he asked.
“To return to my random medieval analogy, the syrinx is the Excalibur of the Satyroi, or the Holy Grail. Take your pick. Though I’m sure you knew that. The ‘king’”—he air-quoted—”who wields it has the potential to do great good or great harm.”
“And you know who has it.”
“I always knew.”
“What are you going to do with that knowledge?” Obviously, he’d help his own son in whatever it was he was planning, but why brag about it?
“Nothing.”
“That’s stupid. You could control everything, knowing where it is.”
“I could, but I only interfer
e when I won’t affect the outcome. I gave you information that holds no keys. Dionysus may already suspect Pan will gather the Arcadians; otherwise, he wouldn’t have sent Melancton, his strongest foot solider, to babysit you and extract a problematical human. Think about it.”
Adonis bristled. “He’s not babysitting me. I haven’t seen him in days.” He brushed a fly off his arm with a shaky hand.
“Because Melancton is your shadow. You only see him if you know he’s there.” When Adonis started scanning the trees around him, Hermes chuckled. “Or if he wants to be seen. He heard all I told you as well, by the way.”
His head started to throb more rapidly than before, and Adonis pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and groaned.
“Are you feeling okay?” All the mockery left Hermes’ voice, and if Adonis didn’t know any better, the god was actually concerned for him.
“Leave me alone!” He turned his back to Hermes, focused on regaining his bearings.
“You don’t look okay.” Hermes changed the subject when he ignored him. “Ariston’s marrying the nymph. I came out here to ask you one last time not to interfere. Leave them be. Go back to Dionysus. Tell him what I told you if you think it will spare his wrath about leaving her behind. Just don’t do anything you will regret later.”
So that was what the medieval heavy spiel was about. A handout to spare him, to make him leave the nymph. Adonis supposed it was a fair trade off. Dionysus would be pleased to have intel on the Arcadians, Pan specifically. However, Adonis didn’t like being manipulated by gods, and he definitely didn’t want their pity. He lived with it daily with Dionysus, and Aphrodite had ruined his life the day she dropped her alabaster robes and beckoned him with a curl to her finger.
“I’ll leave,” he told Hermes. “When I decide I want to.”
Chapter Fourteen
“This is a disaster.”
“Oh?” Pan questioned as Ariston tugged at his hair and took a seat beside him on the porch steps. “Why’s that?”
“She refuses to consent!” Ariston couldn’t figure out how to make Lily cooperate. He’d asked again before lunch, having kissed her until she’d whimpered against him. Didn’t work. Then he’d asked again when she’d sucked in a breath having seen him wearing the suit Pan and Lily had brought for him. Didn’t work. She wouldn’t let Ariston see her in her dress, and she refused to admit she’d even be wearing it. The infuriating woman had tried it on anyway, giggling with Pan’s fiancée, but wouldn’t spare him a damned response.
He’d attempted again, moments ago, by walking in on her while she showered. Which resulted in her squealing like a stuck pig when the new curtain—another gift from Kat—was yanked open, and trying to hide attributes she knew he’d already seen before calling him a pervert. In retrospect, he could understand why that attempt didn’t work.
Pan chuckled. “At least she hasn’t said no.”
“She wants to, say yes I mean, but she won’t. Why won’t she say it!”
“How do you know she wants to?”
“Don’t make me punch you.”
“If you value your life, you wouldn’t dare,” Pan said.
Lily and Kat strolled out of the cabin, arm in arm, both casting scathing glares at Ariston as they passed. They headed to where Pegasus and Hermes were gliding above the trees. To build that damned No-Ariston-Clubhouse, I’m sure.
“What did you do?” Pan asked, catching the expressions on the women’s faces.
“I tried to startle a yes out of her. Didn’t work so well.”
“Yeah...I can tell you, from experience, scaring them doesn’t do anything but make winning them over more difficult. You officially started back at square one.” Pan clapped Ariston on the back. “Good luck with that.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“Listen, is there anything she’s wanted you to do or tell her about since she’s been here that you’ve held back?” Pan seemed thoughtful.
“I have been rather vague when it comes to talking about Adonis, especially since seeing him yesterday. She wanted to know what happened, and I closed down.” What else could it be?
“You haven’t even told me about yesterday. That hurts.”
“To be fair, I haven’t seen you since the day you left Arcadia.”
Pan grimaced. “Touché.”
“Why’d you leave? Don’t give me that bullshit about needing to be alone. You left us all with your syrinx and expected us to keep it safe.”
Pan rubbed his face with both hands and then glanced at him. “The truth? I didn’t think you guys needed me anymore. You’d learned to play panpipes and understood the dangers of the syrinx enough not to use it. None of you had any more slip-ups where you weren’t fit to be around humans. I’m not cut out to be a leader, Ariston. I don’t want to make choices for people. I don’t want to be the deciding factor. All of you were good men, and I didn’t leave until I knew you’d all remain as such. What Dionysus does to the Boeotians, subjugating them with the thyrsi? It’s not me. I wanted all of you to have your own lives, and none of you would have with me there.”
“What of those who wanted their friend back? You didn’t call, you didn’t write...”
“What are you, a girl?” Pan teased, but his grin lasted barely an instant before he became somber once again. “I did go back once. But none of you were in Greece anymore. By the time I ended up in the Pine Barrens, I gave up looking. Just wanted to be on my own, the way I was before it all.”
“I didn’t know.” Ariston muttered. Maybe he’d been too hard on Pan, but when everyone he’d known went their separate ways, there was a part of him that had always resented them for it. I’m not so different from Adonis after all.
No. Adonis lashes out because he’s selfish. You were lonely for too long. There is a difference.
“How could you know? You weren’t there. Anyway, that was a long time ago. This is now. Adonis. Spill.”
Ariston shot him a look. “I’m fine.”
“Bull. You’re traumatized.”
“Well, what do you expect? He’s my brother; we’re supposed to be there for each other and all that sentimental crap.”
“Adonis never seemed to be the sappy type. At least not from the few times I’ve spoken to him. Rude, conceited, and unapproachable would be the words I’d use to describe him.” Pan stretched his long legs out, laying his back on the porch. “Don’t know what dear ole’ auntie Aphrodite saw in the guy.”
“You don’t see it?” Ariston batted his eyelashes. For good measure, he fluffed his hair. Pan chuckled.
“So you’re saying she thought he was pretty. Gotcha.”
After laughing with him, pleased to have lightened the topic, Ariston added, “Do you think telling Lily about Adonis would really make her say she’d marry me? It’s not really the kind of thing to set the romantic mood.”
Pan shrugged. “Dunno. It might. If that is the only thing you haven’t told her, she’d realize, ‘hey...this guy isn’t holding back from me. He’ll talk about his feelings, and then later, he’ll let me braid his pretty blond hair.’”
Ariston shoved him. Pan only laughed harder. “Seriously though, try it. Oh, and look really sad while you do it. Maybe shed a tear. She’ll want to comfort you and giving you an answer may be the only way,” he stressed the point.
“That’s sneaky.”
“There’s a reason I’m known as a trickster god.” Pan sounded smug, sitting up again.
Ariston snorted and pointed at Hermes as he flew in circles over and around Pegasus, hooting and hollering at the women below who clapped at his antics. “Yeah, because anything that came from that guy would be an absolute joke.”
Pan threw his head back and guffawed. Once he regained composure he shot Ariston an unamused glower. “You’re an ass.”
Thunder boomed, and without further warning rain began to pummel them. Yet the sky above remained clear, even in the waning light.
“It wasn’t me,” Lily yelled, eye
s wide. “I swear.”
Ariston and Pan stood while Pegasus and Hermes descended. Pan rushed to Kat’s side to help her waddle through the rain. As Ariston approached Lily, Hermes opened his mouth to make a retort but paused, tilting his head to the side as if listening for something. He nodded. “Zeus awaits us inside.”
“Excuse me?” Ariston asked.
“The Zeus?” said Kat.
“For real?” Lily added.
Pegasus stomped a hoof, tossing his head in a whinny, not to be left out of the series of dumbfounded reactions.
Pan’s brow furrowed and Ariston recalled that Pan hadn’t ever been his grandfather’s biggest fan. Too much sneaking around on his wife. He found it dishonorable, and for every good act Zeus took part in, another two or three followed that were anything but.
Nobody made a move to greet the Olympian, and it didn’t take Zeus long to notice.
“Are you going to stand in the rain all afternoon?” a deep baritone boomed from inside, “I have much to discuss with the nymph.”
***
All her life, Lily pictured Zeus as a Sean Connery-type figure with a Santa Claus beard. In reality, Zeus appeared to be somewhere around forty to fifty, and aging very well. His dark hair was short and well groomed. A hint of gray dusted his temples. He didn’t even have a beard. For some reason, that disappointed her. Zeus was supposed to have a beard...wasn’t he?
To further throw her expectations down the drain, Zeus wore a sharply pressed pair of black slacks with a crisp white button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbow—no toga. He could have passed her on the sidewalk in town and she wouldn’t have looked twice at him. Well, she might’ve done a double take; he was very handsome.
Pan was the first one through the door. Without a hint of enthusiasm, he opened his arms and exclaimed, “Grandfather.” Zeus didn’t embrace him. He merely inclined his head and gestured him inside to take a seat. Pan stood there, thunderstruck, before Hermes patted him on the shoulder and pushed him past. Hermes then vanished and reappeared with arms full of towels so they could dry off from the rain. How thoughtful.
The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection Page 46
