Desperate Housewives of Olympus

by DeWylde, Saranna

  “And he wanted you to ask me if I was, and I quote, getting any?”

  “No.” He hung his head. “Yeah.”

  Nyx took a deep breath and rolled her eyes skyward. “That friend wouldn’t happen to be Apollo, would it?”

  “No, it was Artemis.”

  “Does everyone know my business?” Nyx complained as she dropped the batter for the cakes in the pan.

  “You know how it is on the Lane.”

  “Is that why you never come see me anymore?” She couldn’t resist one little jab.

  “Don’t start. You know I’ve got work. If you want me to let you make those fig cakes, you’ll knock it off.”

  The kid had a point. She was more than happy to cook for him and he knew even with his smart mouth he still had her wrapped around his little finger.

  “Fine, you win.”

  “You should really go see what Apollo is up to.”

  “I know exactly what he’s up to. 6’4 and it’s no surprise they stack bullshit that high.”

  “Harsh, Ma. Totally harsh.” He shook his head at the indignity.

  “When you say ‘totally’ like that, you sound like some kind of sick hybrid of goth surfer.”

  “Cool.”

  “Not so much. Blows your cred.”

  “My cred can take it.” He sat down at the table to wait for his fig cakes. “Are you really not interested in the sun god, or is it because you think he’s too young for you?”

  “He’s one of your friends, Thanatos. That would be weird.” She putzed around the kitchen with a few more busy-work chores. Something to keep her hands busy.

  “If it doesn’t bother me, why should it bother you? You were old when the Dead Sea was sick.” He snickered.

  “One more age joke, just one more,” she warned.

  “And you’ll what? Get younger?” Thanatos didn’t simply laugh this time, he cackled like an over-caffeinated hyena.

  Nyx threw a pan at him and he easily dodged it.

  “You’re off your game. You could practice by throwing them at Hypnos.”

  “He doesn’t come over unless he and Hermes are fighting. You know Hermes travels so much and he likes to take Hypnos with him and I understand. Although my aim suffers.” She gave a long suffering sigh as if she bore the travails of the world on her shoulders. “They’ve promised to come for Brumalia.”

  “Ma, keep up. It’s Christmas now.”

  “I didn’t like that Saturnalia fad.”

  “Again, Ma, when the Dead Sea was sick…”

  “Christmas. Fine. Whatever. Call it whatever you want, all I care about is my boy coming to visit. You’re coming too, aren’t you?” Ha! She’d snuck in the invite while he was there in front of her. Thanatos had no problem telling her no on the phone, but in person? She owned his ass.

  “Ma, you know Christmas is always busy for me. I have to work. So many unhappy mortals.”

  “You’re upper management. The peons work the holidays. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”

  “They have families too.”

  “Just for a bit of ambrosia wine and a few canapés? Really, when was the last time you saw your brother?”

  “Uh,”

  “See? It would make me very happy, Thanatos. And I promise, no nagging if you have to leave.”

  “Okay, but only if you’ll talk to Apollo.”

  He was picking up some of her better tricks. She’d have to try harder.

  “Were you even listening?” No, he probably hadn’t been. Thanatos had always had a strong will and he heard exactly what he wanted to. Selected deafness seemed to be something all children suffered from, whether they be mortal or godling. It was enough make her pull out her hair.

  “Good, so it’s okay I told him to pick you up tonight at eight.”

  “You’ve lost your damn mind.”

  “No, just wait before you whip out the crotch puppet.”

  “I don’t have a crotch puppet, son. Do you need an anatomy lesson too, because I thought we had this discussion when you were much younger? Though, given my advanced age, I could be mistaken.” Her words dripped with sarcasm like honey from a hive, but definitely not sweet. Maybe honey that had been made from the nectar of the Corpse Flower.

  “Look, it’s a good idea. He even agreed to take you out at night. When it’s your time. You’ll be in charge.”

  “As if I need the cover of darkness to protect me from Apollo. Please.” She almost said bitch, please. Nyx was always in charge.

  “He’ll bring his horses and the chariot. He even said you could drive at dawn.”

  Now this appealed to Nyx. She loved the dawn and watching his fiery horses streak across the sky. She watched every morning before she fell asleep. Not that she’d tell her son or Apollo that little tidbit.

  “I guess, but it’s just this one time.”

  “What if you have fun?”

  Nyx didn’t discount it was a possibility. “Then I’ll have fun the one time. I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

  “So don’t have one.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Nothing says you can’t hit it and quit it.” Thanatos gave a pragmatic shrug and tried to goad her further.

  “Still not having this discussion.”

  “Whatever, Ma. What are you going to wear?”

  “This?” She motioned down at herself.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure Hypnos is the gay one?” She didn’t see what was wrong with what she had on. Jeans and a soft, cotton t-shirt were her favorite things to wear.

  “Bisexual, Ma.”

  “Whatever. He’s a brand snob like Jean Pierre. I’m surprised they don’t shop together and take you with them.”

  “You can call me gay until the golden sheep wander home, but that won’t change the fact you’re not leaving this temple to go out with my friend in that.”

  She had to fight a smile. It was odd, but in the old days, none of the gods or goddesses labeled themselves or their orientation. During the time with the Greeks, it was a free for all. The same with the Romans. And then modern civilization happened and suddenly, orientation was a big deal. It pleased her to see that her son wasn’t one of those. And it totally blew that stereotype out of the water—Thanatos was as straight as they made them and he had an impeccable sense of style. Although, from his own attire, it wasn’t immediately obvious.

  “And what would you suggest, Mr. Makeover, The Olympus Edition?”

  “The red Dolce.”

  “No way.” She put her foot down. Nyx wasn’t wearing that dress on a first date with Apollo or anyone.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t have any shoes.” It was true. She didn’t.

  “You could borrow something from Hera’s closet. Her new look is hot.”

  “Isn’t she? I am so proud of her.” Nyx clucked like a proud mama.

  “Ma, while we’re talking about Hera, you should know I’ve seen that my work will take me very close to her. You too.”

  “What do you mean?” Nyx knew damn well what he meant, but she had to hear him say it.

  “I don’t know what you guys are planning, but someone is going to die.”

  “I’m a titan. I can’t die.”

  “Zeus could kill you. Or make you suffer. Don’t do that to me. Don’t make me escort you to Elysium.”

  “Son, I am the night. I am eternal. Not like some of the others.”

  “Persephone’s on the list too,” he said quietly, pushing the fig cake around with his fork.

  “She can’t die either. This is crazy.”

  “You know if a goddess chooses her own end, or… It doesn’t matter. I won’t take her. So she won’t die. Problem solved.”

  Nyx kept her mouth shut about his responsibilities and how he couldn’t simply pick and choose which souls he did the job for. Thanatos had been Death for a very long time. He knew what his job required and what his responsibilities were. He also knew the conse
quences if he failed to do his job. He’d decided. Changing his mind was like trying to bail the Aegean with a thimble. She knew better.

  “If you’re sure that’s the wisest course of action,” she said in her “mother” tone that told him she knew better than he did and she’d meddle even if the words coming out of her mouth were conciliatory.

  “I am.” His jaw was a hard line and Nyx knew from the look on his face, he was set on this course of action regardless of what it bought.

  “I’ll visit you in Tartarus,” Nyx sighed.

  “Glad you understand.”

  “I have to say one thing,” she began hesitantly.

  “I knew you would.”

  “No, really. It’s important. I’m your mother. You’ll allow me this and you’ll listen.”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  He stopped pushing his food around and looked up at her expectantly. His dark eyes were so earnest and in that moment, he looked like his father, Nod. He was long dead to the sands of time and memory, but it comforted her to see that bit of him in her son. At least that part of Nod. The bastard part was well-lost and she hoped it was never to be found again.

  “You’re a good boy,” Nyx said as she pulled herself out of her memory.

  “Was that what you had to say?”

  “No, I was just thinking you looked so much like Nod there for a moment.” She worried her lip to keep from saying anything else too emotional. Nyx wasn’t a sniffly sort of goddess. She was more balls to the wall, pedal to the metal and only cried if no one would ever see her or those who had seen it weren’t only dead, but obliterated from existence.

  “Hades had Persephone for centuries. Do you understand what that means?”

  “She’ll be in her comfort zone if I kidnap her?” He cocked his head to the side.

  A dark thundercloud gathered above them.

  “Sorry, it was there. I had to take it.” He held up his hands. “Okay, not funny. I get it.”

  “You don’t know what happened between them. But Hades let her go because he loved her. She may have feelings for him, Thanatos. Even if you give up everything to save her, she may want to go back to Hades.”

  “I know that.” He looked down at his plate.

  “Do you? Do you really?”

  “I wouldn’t want to cause her any pain. Or Hades. He’s not a bad guy. Dresses a bit like an Alice, what with all the velvet and whatnot. Chicks seem to dig it though.” Thanatos scowled.

  “Oh, you’re bringing it too with your Matrix trench and shades.”

  “You think so?” he said as if he didn’t know it.

  “It’s already obvious Persephone likes dark and tortured. Just don’t let her make you any more dark and tortured, okay? I get that you like the dark, you’re my son. But don’t get lost in it.”

  “I won’t. You taught me well.” He crammed the last bit of cake into his mouth. “So it’s a no on the red Dolce?”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonished. “Gods, Thanatos. Do you remember to brush your teeth when I’m not there?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “They say for the mortals it’s when boys start liking girls they remember to do things like shower. It seems that’s not the case with you.” Nyx shook her head.

  He grinned and showed his teeth. “They’re perfect.”

  “All but that bit of fig you’ve got stuck in the front.” She pointed at the offending fruit.

  Thanatos snapped his mouth shut. “We were talking about you.”

  “I guess.”

  “Wear something besides black.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Ma, you’re a chick. In case that slipped by you. We like to see females dressed, well, feminine.”

  “Are you implying I am not feminine?”

  Thanatos shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Sometimes. Black has gotten to be your muumuu,” he said as if he were almost afraid to say it where she could hear.

  “WHAT?” Nyx wasn’t a muumuu sort of goddess either. In fact, she’d see herself strung up in Tartarus before she’d ever run around in a muumuu.

  “It’s your standard house wear, it’s no better than PJs.”

  “Still not wearing the Dolce.”

  “Fine. What about that silver dress you used to wear to the Fairy Ball?”

  Eh, she could do that. It was comfortable, a little jazzy, kind of like a Disney princess dress—which she secretly adored. A little sexy too. It would look great with her hair.

  “I’ll take that, but I’m wearing flats.”

  “Good. Apollo is only 6’2. It would be tacky if you were towering over him like some Boudicea.”

  “Only if he’s not secure in his godhood.” She flashed a smirk at him. In fact, it was the same one he’d been giving her all day. They were two peas in an immortal pod.

  “Why must you be difficult?”

  “The same reason you are, I imagine.”

  Thanatos looked for another cake and promptly shoved the whole thing in his mouth. “I’m staying the night, so if you want to bang him, do it at his temple, okay?”

  “If you’re all good with Mom shacking up with your friend, it should be fine if she does it in her own home, shouldn’t it?” Nyx said just to be perverse.

  “And this is what I’ll be telling my shrink next week,” he shot back through cake crumbs.

  “You have a shrink?”

  “No, but I’ll probably need one after this.” Thanatos sounded certain.

  “Good. I haven’t done my job as a mother until you need therapy. I’m sorry it’s taken this long, darling.”

  “Wouldn’t it be more romantic in the back of his chariot?”

  “I should smack you in the mouth. You better not ever have a girl in the back of your chariot.”

  “I ride a pale horse, Ma.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Are you going to get ready or he is going to see you in your muumuu?”

  “It’s not a muumuu.”

  “You look like shit.”

  “Thank you.” She employed her long-suffering mommy tone.

  “Tell it to your shrink.”

  “I just might, Thanatos. I just might.” She nodded seriously before turning to go to her room to change. “By the way, your room is just like you left it. If you really want to stay.”

  “I’ll be here when you get home in the morning.”

  “Awfully presumptuous of you to assume I’ll be gone all night,” Nyx said as she shut the door behind her.

  “Common sense. You’re going to drive the chariot, right? Not until dawn. Hello, were you listening?” He taunted her through the door.

  Oh. Right. Did she really want to hang out all night just to drive some stupid horse across the sky?

  Hell yes.

  DEMETER

  Demeter awoke to the sound of a male voice outside her window. Rather than darting to the glass to look outside, she lay quietly in the shadows and listened.

  “Heard melodies are sweet, yet those unheard are sweeter. Therefore, ye soft pipes play on…” His voice faded for a moment. “All breathing human passion far above—,”

  Keats. He was reciting Keats to Persephone. Ode on a Grecian Urn. That had been a favorite of hers. She remembered how the muses had danced when he’d written it; they’d been so bright, so powerful. He’d fed them well and died young. Demeter remembered that too, seeing them ghost around Olympus in their black flowing gowns, their mourning veils and their wails of sorrow.

  To be the object of such devotion to inspire such poetry. She wondered if Hades had whispered poetry to Persephone as well, if his words were sweet with soft touches. Demeter was dying anyway and Persephone’s misery hadn’t saved her. She hated her more for that, but hated herself too.

  “Golden absinthe mist will forget, Hemlock whispers passed to these love stained lips.” He’d begun another poem, this one she didn’t recognize and slipped from the bed and stood in the shadow, peering out into the dark
ness.

  It was Eros as she’d suspected, but he wasn’t speaking to Persephone. He was outside of her window reciting from memory, looking up at her window. She closed her eyes against the sensation it wrought in her. A strange, bitter hope, fleeting touches of warmth and a sadness so deep she could drown in it. Until she reminded herself he was nothing but a silly godling.

  No, a part of her protested. He was a godling no more, but a god in his own right. Virile and male in every way. He wanted her enough to whisper sweet words outside her temple window where anyone, even her daughter could hear. Demeter knew she should shoo him away, bid him to be quiet and keep such silliness to himself, but she couldn’t. One more verse couldn’t hurt.

  “Folly strings her harp with silver spun tears…”

  Oh, but it did hurt. His words struck home like an Amazon’s spear and pierced all of her soft places. It was folly, all of it and now Demeter would have to pay the piper and the sounds of sorrow would be the only music in her ears.

  “An invitation to Lethe’s hearth, to drift eternal in the black sea. Eyes luminous like twin stars, overfilling their cups of sorrow and wrath.”

  Did he know her so well? How could he have looked inside of her; seen her sorrow and wrath and still want her? It wasn’t possible. What did a virgin know about the secret depths of a woman’s heart, even if he was the God of Love?

  The timber of his voice slid over her in a caress. Her fingers were on the window sill, ready to fling it open and invite him in, but something stayed her hand. Her time was over, did it really matter if she took this one bit of pleasure for herself, this one moment out of time to touch and be touched? Yet still, she didn’t move, she was frozen.

  “Can you hear me, Demeter, or do you sleep still? I don’t need to look into your heart to know what’s there.”

  She pressed her palm to the glass and suddenly, his hand was next to hers on the pane. He stood behind her, her body molded to the contours of his. His breath was warm on her neck and the heat of him infused her. His cock was thick against her backside and it was impossible for Demeter not to tilt her hips against him.

  His arm slid around her waist to anchor her to him while his other hand explored the length of her thigh and the curve of her hip while hitching her gown out of his way. She didn’t speak, she didn’t want to shatter the moment, but so many questions burned on the tip of her tongue.