by S. E. Babin
My gaze met his. I prided myself that I didn’t cry. I didn’t pout. I didn’t even blink. “Deal?” I said in a firm voice.
“Fine,” he said. His tone was clipped and angry. “I will respect your wishes.”
“Good. Please send me back to the party.”
With a nod, Hades waved his hand and I was propelled back into the room where I’d just caught my former lover making out with his new one.
Legendary probably wasn’t the word I’d use for this particular Dionysus party.
Chapter 4
Wherever Cupid had gone, he’d done a good job of disappearing. No one saw him enter and no one had seen him leave. Perhaps copious amounts of mescaline had something to do with that. Once I found Artie, I was swearing off anything that had the ability to mess with my senses. I was going straight and narrow. No funny stuff. No matter what happened or who made me angry.
Of course, I always said that when crazy things happened as a result of something like this. Perhaps the mescaline had taken it a little too far.
I reexamined the bedroom as if I were the female equivalent of Sherlock Holmes. Or I pretended to. I had no idea what I was looking for, if anything. He came, he saw, he took. I knew Cupid was a squirrelly sort but I didn’t think he was the kind of guy who would intentionally place someone in danger. Especially someone like Artie. But I didn’t know him that well. I don’t recall there being a grudge between them, but I could be wrong. Sometimes our grudges went back thousands of years until they were merely fuzzy memories in my head.
Cupid was a bit of a loner and I guess with a job like his, maybe I would be too. While I was more involved in the day to day operations of love, or I used to be, Cupid was the guy who shot people with arrows. It required good aim, patience and the ability to stay concealed. The first person the intended target saw after being shot with the arrow would be the person the victim fell in love with. After a few times of being the recipient of some seriously strange stalking, Cupid had gotten a whole lot more careful about his hiding spots and his anonymity. I had gotten the better end of the stick with that one. I had no magical arrows and I had no compulsion to make people constantly fall in love. For me it was more if I felt like it...which when I thought about it might have been more dangerous than Cupid’s compulsions. I’d had some pretty terrible matches in my day and when I thought about them they’d all occurred when I’d been lonely, depressed or in a particularly sour mood. Good thing I hadn’t done that in awhile.
The only thing I could find in the room was Artie’s fake wand. That did me absolutely no good so I made one more sweep before I left the bedroom and went out to do some more investigating. Dionysus was my first target, but I found him slumped against the wall halfheartedly making out with Ariadne. I stifled a snort when I saw them. Even mescaline couldn’t solve all your problems, I guess.
With a limp wave, he motioned me over. Ariadne leaned against his shoulder when she saw me and gave me a sour look.
I held my hands up. “Sorry about the glamour. It’ll take a day or so to fully wear off.”
Ariadne glared. “Great. I can’t have sex with my guy because he’ll be thinking about you for the next 48 hours.”
Crimson spread across my cheeks and down to my neck. A burst of laughter erupted from Dionysus as he ruffled Ariadne’s hair. “I suspect she didn’t think that one through before it happened.”
I avoided eye contact. I couldn’t even think about Dionysus in that way although it did make me feel eons better to know the odds were good that Hermes was thinking about me while he was making out with Dike.
I couldn’t help the small smile that found its way onto my face.
Dionysus’ grin widened. “I see you figured that one out. The best revenge is silent, eh girl?”
Even Ariadne smiled at that even as she commiserated with Dike. “Poor girl.”
I sobered as I thought about something else. Hades. So that explained it. Never once had he approached me in that way and never once had I felt like he’d been flirting with me or wanted something else between us. The only blame for what happened lay upon my shoulders.
I was no better than any of these other people around here forcing others to do things for them. I’d compelled Hades to kiss me. He hadn’t stood a chance.
Dionysus’ gaze narrowed. “Abby?”
I shook myself out of it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, but I was wondering if either of you saw Artie recently?”
“Not since I saw Hades dump her in a room.” Ariadne straightened and attempted to brush some of the tangles out of her messy hair.
“Cupid?” I asked hopefully.
Dionysus snorted. “Please don’t tell me they ran off together.”
I blinked. “Not quite.”
He straightened to his full height. “Everyone is as safe as they want to be at my parties. If something has happened, I need to know about it so I can make sure it never happens again.”
I grimaced as I thought about his justice versus mine. “I can handle it.”
“It’s my responsibility.” Anger darkened his face.
I tried another tactic. “I would take this as a personal favor if you allowed me to handle it.”
Interest sparked. I had him.
The gods never liked owing anyone else favors, even though favors were our currency. I watched him as he worked it out for himself. If he kept this discreet and allowed me to handle it, he would no longer feel an obligation toward me for saving his life.
“And people say you aren’t clever.”
I huffed out an annoyed breath. “I’m blonde. Not an idiot.”
He tugged Ariadne closer to him and kissed the top of her head. She was still annoyed with him...and me, but a soft smile appeared on her face as she snuggled into his massive chest.
“Very well,” he said. “I shall endeavor to stay out of this, but I will ask that you report to me once the situation is under control.”
I nodded. “Deal. Now, have you seen Cupid anywhere?”
Both of them denied even seeing Cupid enter the party much less swipe a goddess out from underneath their notice.
Great.
I thanked them for their time and began to make my way through the crowd, discreetly asking people who looked so whacked out they wouldn’t remember any of my questions later. Of course, this made it likely their recollections would be altered, but the consensus was no one had seen either Artie or Cupid.
It appeared this winged little cherub had been watching us and waiting for the right time to swipe her. Time to figure out what his motive was and what in the world it had to do with my best friend.
Chapter 5
The lore on Cupid was vast and most of it was false. I was not his mother, nor did I hold any true grudge against him. I’d only dealt with him a handful of times and nothing serious for that matter. He annoyed me, it was true, but I hadn’t even spoken to the guy in probably two thousand years so it was possible he had changed and maybe for the better. The gods knew I had.
Who did I always turn to when I didn’t know who to turn to? The tiny bells whispered a cheery tune as I pushed through the door of Curiosities and Brambles, my favorite Fate’s shop. We weren’t exactly friends, but we were kind of friends. We were the kind of friends who told each other the truth so we couldn’t hang out together for very long because when we did one of us would inadvertently want to murder the other one. As long as Clotho wasn’t spouting out prophecy, which was pretty often mind you...she was, after all, a Fate, then we were good.
I hoped today was one of the good days because every time her eyes went all weird, I knew shit was about to get real. And I was real tired of shit getting real.
Clotho burst out laughing as she rounded the corner to greet me.
Befuddled, I stared at her. “What?” I asked as I looked around.
“You made the Asheville Courier main Facebook page,” Clotho pointed out, her eyes crinkling in amusement.
“Facebook?�
� I sputtered. “You use Facebook?”
She tutted at me. “Everyone is on Facebook these days. It’s how I keep up with my people.”
My jaw dropped in disbelief.
Clotho rolled her eyes and motioned me toward her. With a wave of one hand, she produced a wall-length mirror. I stared at myself in all my Princess Leia glory.
“Well, crap.” I’d forgotten to lower my glamour and change my appearance back.
Clotho snorted and pointed out to the window of her shop. A small crowd of mostly males had gathered outside, their faces pressed to the window all trying to catch a glimpse of me.
“Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly.
The window shades slammed down and the locks on her doors whooshed shut. “Be calm, child. There’s obviously something that has you so distraught you forgot normal protocol.”
I had forgotten. And I was lucky Zeus or Hermes hadn’t caught wind of it yet. Using my glamour around mortals was enough to earn me a severe punishment. Even though I wasn’t working for him anymore, he still seemed like he was kind of in charge. I’d have to ask Hades about that later.
Hades’ magic had fixed my hair for the most part. I focused on shortening my limbs to their normal stature, lightened my skin and changed into a pair of black leggings, a cheery teal and white flannel shirt and a pair of riding boots. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun and plopped down onto the couch Clotho had produced for me.
She offered me a cup of tea and in the past I would have refused it. She hadn’t tried to poison me yet, so this time I gratefully accepted it.
I sipped in silence and waited for Clotho to get comfortable. Once she’d adjusted her broom skirt around her folded legs, I pounced.
“What do you know about Cupid?”
Her brow furrowed. “Of all the people I thought you’d be here about, Cupid never crossed my mind.”
I drank my tea and waited.
Clotho twirled a long light brown curl around her finger. “He was an impulsive lad. Bright, cheery and intelligent. Or...he used to be.”
I perked up at that. “Used to?”
Clotho nodded and blew on her tea to cool it down. “Before he got tired of his powers.” She slid her silvery gaze my way. “In fact, he reminds me a lot of you.”
The tea burned my lips as I jolted when I was about to sip. “Me?” I asked in disbelief. “How is he similar to me?”
One of her eyebrows rose. “Let’s see.” She raised one finger. “Hates authority. Check. Has a love-hate relationship with his powers. Check. Hates responsibility. Check -”
“I do not hate responsibility!”
The side of her mouth quirked up. “Truly? You live on your own. You’ve shunned Olympus and almost all of the immortals. You had to be threatened with imprisonment before you agreed to assist Zeus. You - “
I groaned. “I get it. Stop.”
“You asked.” She lifted her pinky up primly and took a sip.
“I don’t know why I like you sometimes,” I grumbled.
“Because I am wise and helpful,” Clotho responded.
“But mostly a pain.”
“That too,” she agreed.
“I can’t figure out a reason he would take Artie.”
“Child, sometimes there is no reason or motive.”
“What does that even mean?” I set my cup on the table and lay back on the couch, careful to keep my feet off it for fear of suffering her wrath about proper guest manners.
“Have you ever wondered if maybe he’s just lonely?”
I snorted. “You don’t kidnap people just because you’re lonely.”
Her gaze shuttered. “You have no idea the lengths people will go to for companionship when they’ve been starved of it.”
I sat up slowly and stared at her.
The silence fell dark and gloomy. I’d been remiss in many things. I’d never taken the time to wonder about my relationship with her, to realize that I hadn’t quite treated her like a friend, only a tool. I’d taken her prophecies. I’d used her for help. I’d barged in on her shop.
I’d taken, taken, taken from her.
But had I given her anything back?
Regret swelled inside me and filled me with a sense of self-loathing the likes of which I’d never before experienced. The Fates had no friends that I knew of. They were the prophets, the soothsayers. They terrified us even as they fascinated us. We traveled to them. We asked for their guidance. We feared them. But none of us that I knew had ever given anything to them.
I was a terrible, selfish person.
And I knew that Artie could take care of herself.
At least for a little while.
“Do you like cookies?” I asked Clotho.
The look of confusion that stole over her face was worth the possibility of death I was taking with what I did next.
I stood up and before she could figure out what was happening, I grabbed her by the arm and teleported us both out of there.
A ball of fire magic was pointed at my face when we stopped. Clotho’s chestnut hair spun out around her head making her look like the poster child for a Poltergeist film.
I let go and stepped away from her. My hands were held up as I backed away. “Easy, Clotho. Easy. I took you to my house.”
Hilarious confusion settled over her expression, but she didn’t extinguish the fire. I prayed to all the gods I didn’t like that she wouldn’t set yet another house on fire. I was beginning to feel decidedly unlucky in that aspect.
“Your house?”
I nodded.
“Why?” The ball flickered slightly.
“Because I wonder if you’ve ever baked before.”
The ball flickered even more and dimmed a little.
I blew out a slow breath.
She stared at me in suspicion. “Why?” she asked again.
“Because everyone, no matter whether they’re human or immortal, should have the chance to experience certain things. And today I think you should experience baking. With a friend.”
Something that looked suspiciously wet appeared in her eyes. The ball of flame extinguished in her hands. “I like cookies.”
I put my hands down and wiped the wetness away on my leggings. Perhaps I should have warned her, but it was one of the few times I’d ever seen her let her guard down and I couldn’t let the moment pass. “Good. Follow me.”
I led her through the house and pointed out some things along the way. I’d lost most of my belongings a few months ago and hadn’t had the chance to start replacing many things yet. Clotho stopped in my living room and noticed my lack of decent furniture.
“I know a place you may like.” Her mouth curled at the state of my hand me down couch. “Perhaps we can go together sometime.”
I kept walking so as not to spook her. “I’d like that very much.”
When we stepped into the kitchen, she let out an ooh of appreciation. I grinned. I felt the same way every time I stepped in here.
One thing I had to admit about Hades is he knew his way around a comfortable home and he never batted an eye at any of my suggestions for my kitchen even though he was footing the bill for it. I had a massive slab of granite for my kitchen island. A Viking stove, a commercial refrigerator, massive sink and cabinets out the yin yang. Now that I’d been on my own for so long I’d learned to cook, bake and even love it. The kitchen was my little haven and I’d found baking anything lowered my stress levels tremendously.
Even though Hades lived in the Underworld, the parts of it he kept for his personal quarters were done in his style. He didn’t begrudge me my own little slice of Heaven. A pang of regret zinged through me.
I owed him an apology. A big one.
I went to the walk-in pantry and gathered the ingredients we needed to make chocolate chip cookies. Flour, sugar, brown sugar, baking soda, the works. I took the special, expensive chocolate chips out because it was Clotho and she deserved them. I tossed her an apron and tied one around my neck.
“What about the Huntress?” she asked.
“She will be fine for a little while,” I said and I knew in my heart that it was true. We were survivors and even though Zeus wasn’t high on my favorite’s list right now, it was still against the law to harm another immortal. It was a law I knew Zeus would enforce. Plus Artemis was his daughter and he was the one who’d alerted us to it. Of course, he could always risk his life and go after her, but he wouldn’t go that far. Woe to the person who messed up his hair. Or blew up his house.
She was tougher than me in a lot of ways. And I knew she would appreciate the reason for my delay even though she probably wouldn’t believe it.
Clotho slipped the apron around her neck and secured it. I gathered the rest of the tools and mixer and set them down on the massive island.
I picked up a wooden spoon and waved it at Clotho. “Ready?”
Her silvery eyes sparked with genuine excitement. “If you are!”
Baking with Clotho was fun in a slightly terrifying way. Her genuine enthusiasm for my kitchen was infectious, but she handled the cookie dough with all the aplomb of an NFL player trying ballet for the first time. By the end of it, we had some passable cookies and I needed a drink.
Clotho was covered in flour and pieces of cookie dough but the grin on her face was exhilarated. “We should do that again. When we can we do that again?”
I snorted with laughter. “Maybe after I find Artie.”
“And Persephone,” she murmured.
I lifted my head from the island and pushed a few stray curls out of my face. “How’d you know that?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you keep asking me that.”
“Right.” I didn’t take my eyes from her. “We’ve never talked about the management switch.”
She laughed merrily. “Aphrodite, I promise you, you almost make being a Fate worth it.” She shook her head. “Management switch. Like this is a sitcom.”
“Wasn’t sure what else I should call it,” I grumbled. I picked up a cookie and shoved half of it in my mouth.
