"Well, do you think Aphrodite will like me?" Roman asked. "I really want her to." He started messing with his golden locks and straightening his already pristine clothing. Chloe noticed for the first time how good-looking he really was. A perfect match for Aphrodite. The Fates had made a good choice.
From the other side of the room, a voice said, "She'll like you for about fifteen minutes." A figure stepped out of the dark shadows. "Subtract ten for the fact that you'll still have to pay homage to Deimos and Phobos."
"Hey, it's Cupid!" Roman exclaimed. Chloe stiffened. She already knew why he was there.
"Wha' was tha' you jus' said abou' Deimos and Phobos?" Strafford questioned the young god, not surprised at all to see him.
"Ask the boy," Cupid said with a smirk.
Roman paled a little as Strafford turned an icy glare on him. "I tried to tell you earlier," He said, "Hades is not my creator. Deimos and Phobos, the war gods of fear and panic, are."
"Deimos and Phobos gave you immortality?" Swindle asked, sharing a look with Strafford. "How long ago?"
"Right after World War II. I was a fighter pilot in my mortal life."
“So you were a soldier,” Ace said, “A warrior. Like Adonis.”
“And Deimos and Phobos are sons of Ares and Aphrodite,” Strafford said, “and they granted you icey status. Wha’ a bloody coincidence.”
"But that’s the least of our worries, don’t you think?” Swindle looked between Strafford and Ace.
Chloe crossed her arms, so not in the mood for obscurity. "I hate it when ya'll do that. Can you just tell me what's going on without me having to ask you a thousand times first?"
"It's just unusual, Chloe," Swindle replied, brow wrinkled, "We didn't think anyone but the Olympians bestowed iceys."
"And? What's the problem?"
Strafford answered her. "The other gods, even minor ones like Deimos and Phobos, are bestowin' believers, which they've never really needed before. The existence of the Olympians has always been enough for them. But for some reason now, they feel the need to sustain their own existences by maintainin' their own set of believers. They know there's serious trouble on Olympus, and it’s been going on longer than we thought."
So the iceys kept the gods alive. She thought hard about this. Had the GUP triggered this too, she wondered, a need for the gods to secure their existence? Did the gods know more about the prophecy than they were willing to admit to?
What in the world was going on?
"So now that you have finally learned of Adonis, maybe I can get a little peace now," said Cupid with a smile that Chloe resented. He had known all along who Dropper was. He looked over Roman. "I'm here to escort you to the Oyster of Paphia, my mother's home, and I plan to obey her this time. She's waiting for all of you there and can't wait to chat with you, Pythia."
Nervous glances were exchanged until, as always, all eyes fell on Strafford to wait for his decision on what to do next. After a long visual exchange with Chloe, he nodded at Cupid.
"Wise decision, godling!" The god of Love said. "I would hate to have to ask twice. To Argonaut Station, shall we?"
*****
It was a while before Chloe realized she was in Paris, France.
After changing clothes, they had traveled via Whip to the Oyster of Paphia, a beautiful, white marble palace situated high above the city on a plateau of clouds. They walked through the towering marble colonnade surrounding it and gazed down on the lovely city below. The view was like the one she had seen in her dream. She could see from there, the landmarks of Paris––the Eiffel Tower, the glass pyramid of the Louvre Museum in the Cour Napoléon, and the Rue de Palle where the Arc de Triomphe found its home. At once, she could feel why the goddess would choose such a city as Paris to reside above. The passion Paris emitted was like a toxin, seeping into her skin and saturating her blood, turning it hot and steamy.
Strafford grabbed her wrist. She looked down and realized that she had been inching her hand underneath his shirt.
Embarrassment times infinity.
She gaped up at him and he let her wrist go, but didn't push her hand away. His wolfish smile spoke volumes: You can keep going if you want to.
She snatched her hand back and fell behind a few steps. Strafford's feral eyes followed, but he didn't halt her hasty retreat. Run while you still can, his body read. Knowing she got the memo, he turned back forward.
She lasted all of a minute, then sighed and caught back up with him. Taking her hand, he smiled down at her and her heart fluttered like it had wings.
"Do you think my Lady would mind much if I killed her right now?"
They stopped walking. Strafford's arm reached out for her and he pulled her behind him. Startled, she peeked from around him, and froze up like an ice cube. Under the grand archway of the main entrance to the castle, stood the two remaining Graces.
Their glares were like daggers right to the heart.
"Your temper tantrums are always such entertainment for me, Joy," Cupid snapped, "But hear this, if you lay one finger on the Oracle, I'll end you myself. You accepted a duel and you were defeated, fair and square. Underestimation of the weak often proves deadly. Now, the goddess is ready to see us?"
It looked as though Joy had to force herself to pull her eyes off of Chloe. "Yes, my lord," She replied through tight lips.
"Good. Now go on ahead and attend to her. I may be a lover, not a fighter, but I will end you if I have to. Don't push me. My mother wouldn’t like it if another one of you came up dead."
Though it looked like it pained them to do so, the two Graces bowed and said respectfully, "Yes, my lord." They disappeared in flashes of light, but not before shooting Chloe more livid stares.
"It's okay, Pythia," Cupid said, "They won't hurt you. They enjoy being alive too much."
He led the group through the great entrance and down a long corridor built with pillared arches that they walked under one after the other. Roses were everywhere. Growing out of the walls, wrapped around pillars, hanging from the arches. The jeweled sconces and chandeliers were only accents in the midst of the roses and the live doves were like ornaments perched in random places and flying overhead.
The sitting room of Aphrodite was at the very end of the corridor, hidden behind two floor-to-ceiling gold doors. Cupid waved his hand, the doors opened and they entered. It was the same room Chloe had seen in her dream, with its marble floors and endless vases of roses. The two seething Graces were glaring from the back of the parlor near the wall of windows that looked out over Paris, and even the white persian cat was present. It was lounging on a chaise and yawned when they entered, already bored with their company.
Right next to it, sat the mesmerizing beauty of Chloe's first nighttime reveries dressed in a form-fitting white mini-dress, her long legs crossed, her even longer black hair draped across the arm of her young attendant.
Aphrodite.
Cupid left them standing awkward and stiff at the entrance and forced the cat off of the chaise beside his mother to claim it for himself. "Beat it, Rose," he said. Rose the cat seemed content to leave only because she wanted the more coveted spot on Aphrodite's lap. Even when Rose pounced on her, the goddess's pure golden eyes never left them and it wasn't until after she had taken several sips from a crystal chalice rimmed in gold, that she even spoke.
"Ambrosia is such an aphrodisiac," The goddess purred, setting her chalice on a tray her attendant held out for her. Her voice was like silk ribbons, smooth and fine, but regal still. "I can hardly make do without it. Not that the goddess of Love needs an aphrodisiac." She smiled and its perfection nearly sent Chloe into shock. She felt sorry for the poor boys with her. They were smitten, even Strafford.
"Come, Roman," Aphrodite beckoned, gesturing with a seductive finger, "If you are to be mine, I must have a better look at you."
Chloe should have known they wouldn't have to twist his arm. Roman had been waiting for years for this moment and he practically ran Ace over to get
to the goddess. "Bloody wanker," Ace mumbled, rubbing the spot at his ribcage where Roman had elbowed him.
Roman dropped to his knees in front of the goddess. "My lady," he said, "I am yours to do with as you please. I am eager to serve."
Aphrodite held out her arm for her hair to be draped over it. She leaned forward, just enough not to squish Rose, bringing herself to eye level with Roman. A long, pretty finger ran down the side of his face.
"Eagerness is a virtue you will find that I never tire of," She said. Chloe thought sure Roman was going to pass out any minute, but the guy stayed conscious and she had to give him his just due for that. The goddess was mesmerizing and her touch was probably a hypnotic thrill.
Aphrodite’s gaze suddenly became fixated on her. "He is a beautiful boy, Pythia. I will enjoy him. I suspect he might even become my foremost lover if he proves himself worthy." She smiled again and Chloe found herself keeping her eyes closed longer between every blink just to keep from becoming hypnotized by it.
"Mother, please don’t start up with that," Cupid said, smiling, laid back on his chaise, "Not everyone is used to open forums on sexuality."
Aphrodite waved him off and petted Rose. "My love life has been an open forum since my husband Hephaestus trapped me in the net with Ares and displayed our naked bodies for all of the gods to see." Cupid rolled his eyes, making the goddess smile. "Ares and I conceived you not too long after," She recalled fondly.
"Ares is your dad, too?" Chloe couldn't help asking. "Hephaestus is your husband?" She remembered the ugly statue of the god from her visit to the Shrine and couldn't imagine this exquisite woman being married to such a creature, no more than she could believe that the big, brawny War god was Cupid's father. This was one big, crazy family.
Aphrodite nodded in a queenly manner. "It was the will of Zeus that I marry Hephaestus upon him coming to Olympus to release his mother Hera from the throne he had built to entrap her in. But that is a story for another time. I do not question the will of the king…except in cases where he might wish harm on a perfectly innocent girl."
Yeah right. " I was perfectly innocent when you sent your Graces to kill me and my friends," She retorted. She saw Joy's hands ball into fists, but a look from Blossom kept her from acting on her anger.
The goddess looked unimpressed by her little outburst. "As my dear daughter-in-law so informed you, you were simply in my way." There was just a touch of venom in her tone.
"So killing me for your own reasons is justifiable, but not for someone else's?"
"Red…you're killin' me back here…" Strafford mumbled, but she could tell he was trying not to laugh.
Aphrodite was not rattled, however. "Sweet Pythia, if it was truly my intentions for you to be dead, then I would have killed you myself." She snapped her fingers. "Like that. And if your triumph over Radiance had not come about from a fair duel, then I would have." Even menacing, her voice was still delightful. "I find you insignificant and least of all, a threat to my power. I wish you a long, happy life––with an above satisfactory lover."
"Mother!" Cupid laughed. "Aren't you supposed to be grieving or something like that?"
"But what is there to grieve for? The procurement of a new lover is cause for celebration, not mourning." She smiled down at Roman and ran her fingers through his blonde curls. They instantly turned thick and dark. She licked the tip of one finger on each hand and grazed each of his cheeks, leaving two dimples behind, then kissed each of his eyelids, turning his blue eyes to brown. The goddess leaned back and admired her work. She had turned Roman into Dropper, into Adonis. Chloe could not believe what she was seeing.
She felt the fury rise up in her. "Dropper was too good for you," She snapped.
"Your bloody mouth, wan…" Strafford chuckled, "As much fun as it is to watch you go off, you need to shut up now."
She ignored him. "You tried to have us killed! And you didn't even care about him!"
A flicker of annoyance crossed Aphrodite's expression. "I never truly expected him to be returned to me, Pythia. I simply wanted him out of Persephone's dark clutches. Better him dead than with her. I hope she greatly enjoys her corpse."
"Wow, tha' really is bloody lame," Ace muttered.
"You let him die for nothing!" Chloe exclaimed.
Aphrodite's eyes sparkled. "You sound quite put out, Pythia. Is that love for Adonis that I sense in your heart?" Her eyes flickered over Strafford, then back to her.
Chloe felt her cheeks flush. "No, but he was a good person and I do have a certain respect for the lives of others."
The goddess laid a hand on her chest. "As do I, Pythia, as do I.”
She was getting tired of the games. "Why did you bring us here?" She snapped, and she felt Ace nudge her with his elbow. She just elbowed him back.
The goddess's laugh was as delicious as whipped cream and strawberries. "Your tongue will be the death of you, girl. But I must say, I admire your fire. It is rare to see it burning so brightly in a mortal. Your kind frightens so easily. It is refreshing to see that even in the presence of a god, there is some courage left in your race. I only hope you will manage to keep it through the trials ahead."
"I already know of the trials ahead," Chloe snapped, "I know my coming here is causing trouble in Olympus. I know about the Great Unknown Prophecy."
"Ha! You know nothing, girl!" Aphrodite exclaimed, "The fight for your life, the fight for your very destiny has only begun! Yes, your arrival has triggered the Great Prophecy, but it was your birth that triggered the end."
She felt her chest tighten. "The end of what?"
"Why, the end of it all." The goddess remained elusive in her responses and didn't hide the fact that she was doing it on purpose. Chloe remembered what the emo girl had said about her kind of, sort of dooming all of Myth. Was that what the goddess meant?
"Adonis was just the beginning of your trials," Aphrodite continued, "Before it is all over, more stars will fall at your feet. More chants will spill from your lips. More prophecies will soon fill your head. The heavens of Myth are in peril, and some feel that to correct this, the pillar that is holding up this temple of doom must somehow be brought down into a blissful ruin of lost hope and despair. And you, my love, are the pillar to be destroyed."
"Let the gods send whoever they want," Strafford snapped, finally stepping up like a Prince should, like her guardian should. She loved how any threat against her got him all fired up. "Ask the Bane Princess or Hecate or the leftover Graces how we deal with our enemies, or any of your bloody threats. Joy looks like she's jus' burstin' with details."
Joy stepped forward.
"Do not be goaded by a half-breed," Aphrodite clipped, not even looking over her shoulder at the Grace who halted at her voice, "Especially not by a disgraced Olympian Prince. He wishes to die valiantly, so we shall let him. I would think you would be happy for this. Dead is dead."
"I would be happy to do it myself, my lady," Joy snapped.
"Your chance has passed," The goddess said. Even Chloe knew it was a declaration that Joy and Blossom's assassin license had been revoked for the time being.
"This conversation has become incredibly tiresome, mother," Cupid said, looking extremely bored.
"I agree," Aphrodite concurred, standing to her feet. Chloe swallowed. The goddess was a total Amazon with legs that were to die for. "Come, Roman. Romance is calling us."
"I swear, mother, you're going to ruin them!"
"Quiet, Eros. If you would take more lovers instead of being so devoted to Psyche maybe you could learn to appreciate my insatiable appetite." Cupid just rolled his eyes and flashed away. "Farewell, godlings and Pythia. We will meet again soon, I’m sure. See yourselves out. The Graces will not follow."
Aphrodite shot the pair a glance, then, taking Roman's hand in hers, she disappeared in a flare of blinding light.
Once the essence of Aphrodite had vanished, they just stood there, exchanging deadly glares with Joy and Blossom. They said nothing. The
Graces said nothing. Which, in fact, said everything that needed to be.
The staredown didn’t stop as they backed their way through the door, and when it seemed the Graces had decided it was wiser to obey the goddess than not, they turned to walk away.
“Our lady said we weren’t to follow you,” Joy spoke up. They froze.
Then too much happened at once.
Blossom appeared behind them and flung Ace and Swindle away like scarecrows. Gods, she was strong. They bounced along the marble floor, breaking bones and collecting bruises. Before he could react, she lunged for Strafford, pinning him against the wall with her hands like they were iron shackles. He struggled, but when he realized he wasn’t going anywhere, his eyes jumped to hers.
“Chloe...” He said her name. He’d never said her name. “Run.”
His command never registered. Joy appeared in front of her. A scream froze on her lips.
“Our lady said we weren’t to follow you, mortal, but she never said we had to let you leave.”
And then she stabbed Chloe in the chest.
INTERLUDE
*****
He sits on his throne, tall and mysterious, with hair the color of coal. He wears armor of gold and a crown of jewels.
From behind him, eyes can see the legions of believers knelt before him, shaking at the sight of him, eyes wide with the fear of him.
The King stands, commanding the attention of every soul in attendance. He raises his hands for silence.
He speaks.
*****
XXXVI. Chloe
"It’s okay, wan. I’m here."
On a sharp breath, Chloe's eyes fluttered open. She groaned as each breath after, left her in agony. Her entire torso ached, and every heartbeat was like a nail being hammered into her chest.
Her head was slammed with pain and the light in the room, though dim, made it worse. It was obvious that she'd just woken up from yet another koma––one that probably should have been her last.
She was not back at the Chateau, but knew at once the only alternative to where she could be.
Prophecy of the Most Beautiful Page 34
