“Do you still wish to kill me?”
“Yes,” I said without thought, speaking what had become rote to me by now. But the “yes” settled like anathema on my tongue, and I worried my bottom lip between my teeth.
I could almost feel the voice in my head smiling with her sharp and wicked teeth, silently crowing over me of her victory. I was starting to become as soft as she had. I curled my nose in disgust.
His smile was wistful. “Why? Have I not been a gracious host this day?”
I shrugged because he had been, but to admit that would be to admit that I’d just lied to him too. I felt the small wave of anxiety began to crest and wind through me, and my hands twitched.
He reached over and grabbed my right one, giving it a gentle squeeze. I’d just admitted to wanting to kill him, and still he touched me. Still he held me as if he did not fear me.
I closed my eyes, weary to my very core by these overwhelming and conflicting emotions that raged through me.
“I don’t know why, Hades. I’m not sure I understand anything anymore.”
“Open your eyes,” he said quietly.
I frowned, but never once entertained the thought of doing other than he’d asked. I was about to ask him what he wanted, but he was pointing behind me.
“Look,” he said.
And I did. There, trotting by us, was the most ridiculous sight I’d ever seen. A dilapidated house walked, and yes, it looked as preposterous as it sounded. But it was actually even worse because it did not walk on wooden legs, but rather on chicken legs. Large, comical looking chicken legs.
The house suddenly stopped moving and turned toward us. Its wide, boxy window eyes expanded, and the roof seemed to curve upward into a shape that reminded me vaguely of lips making an O of astonishment. Then, without a peep or a cockadoodledoo, it turned and ran like a blaze, getting lost behind a large hedge of redwood trees and vanishing from sight.
I blinked, staring at the space where it’d just been. I looked at the ground, then the sky, and then around at the trees before slowly turning back to him, my brows drawn in a tight vee of consternation.
“Was that a—”
“Chicken house. Yes, it was.” He grinned. “Do you not remember it?”
“Should I?”
He shrugged. “Seemed like it would be information you should have, considering the occupant of the house is one of the most powerful witches in all the lands.”
At those words, I suddenly recalled a memory, of a withered, decrypt hag, dressed all in green, walking around with a bag of bones swinging on her hip.
I shook my head. “Strange woman.”
He grinned. “You have no idea. You knew her once and gave her her own happily ever after.”
“That hag?” I pointed over my shoulder with a shocked look on my face. “Who in the bloody realms would even have her?”
His laughter was robust and shivered all around us, and I found myself softly joining in.
“Let’s just say he was a man who made even you tongue tied. Gave me quite a run for my money, he did.”
I chuckled. “I seriously doubt that.”
He abruptly stopped laughing, and in his eyes was a different look entirely, one that was hot and heated, demanding and coaxing.
I trembled because I wanted what I saw there. Badly. But I didn’t want this. “I don’t want this walk down memory lane.”
The fear and panic stealing through me made me suddenly angry and breathless with rage. I didn’t know why. All I knew was that this wasn’t right. None of this was right.
“What?”
I jumped to my feet, the joy of just seconds ago vanishing like fog in the sun. “You’re not taking me to my heart. This is a ploy. You accuse me of playing games, but you’re trying to ‘fix’ me.” I finger quoted. “I cannot be fixed, Death! I am as I am, and you will never again see Calypso, so if that is the game you play, then more the fool you!”
Without stopping to think, I angrily slashed my hand through the air, ripping a giant canyon in the earth beneath us, seeking the tiny dregs of water beneath. I only needed a drop, and when I found it, I released my spirit into it.
No, I would not kill him, and he could keep the bloody blade for all I cared.
But I wanted to go home.
I needed to go home.
He did not want me. He wanted her, the weak, sniveling, temperamental bitch. He’d played me for a fool, and I’d let him.
I’d let him.
Throat tight with something that felt an awful lot like rejection, I slipped into the drop and vanished from his sight.
Chapter 28
Hades
Stunned into silence, I stared at the spot where she’d been. Calypso had always had a wild and unpredictable nature. She’d hated it, called it a weakness of hers. She had told me that no matter what she did in that agitated state, she’d always love and care for me, and I should try not to take it personally. It was just part of loving an elemental, and I’d always understood that.
But this had felt like more.
She’d been in a rage, yes, but I knew her well enough to know it had stemmed from pain. But why?
What in the bloody blazes had I done?
A heavy, shivery sigh sounded over my shoulder, and the air quickened with a curl of desire.
My nostrils flared. “Why have you come, Aphrodite?”
“Well, I won’t talk to your back, so you can either turn, or we’re just going to stand here all day like two heartbroken losers.”
Glowering, I gnashed down on my molars but did as she asked.
Dressed in a gown that was fashioned from Apollo’s own rays, she shined like fire. But it was not her I wanted. It never would be.
She shook her head, glancing at the spot where Calypso had vanished.
“And still you think of her as just Caly. Don’t you get it yet, you hothead?”
I scowled. “Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Must I do everything for you two? I swear, just the other day I found a thread of silver in my hair. My. Hair!” She tapped her chest with a long red fingernail, and her face curled into a grimace of disgust.
“What do you want me to say? I’m doing everything in my bloody power to get through to her.”
“Dammit all,” she snapped and walked up to me. I didn’t know what she planned, so I stood there like an idiot until she walloped me with a peal of her power, nearly knocking me flat on my behind.
“What was that for?” I growled, rubbing at my temple, which still tingled and made even my veins ache for some sort of sexual release. I hated when Aphrodite got into a mood. She had very little control over her powers when she did.
“Because you’re such a bloody idiot, that’s why. Stop doing what you’re doing.”
“Who gave you permission to watch what I’m doing anyway?”
She popped her hand on her hips, looking like an angry Chihuahua as she bristled back at me. “Because I knew you’d screw this up, that’s why. And I was right, wasn’t I?”
I opened my mouth, and she twitched her brows as if to say, “Deny it, Death.”
I snapped it shut, but my stomach roiled with anger.
“Who do you want, Hades?”
I seethed. “I would think you above all people would know bloody well who I wanted. I want Calypso.”
All the fire burned off her, and she wilted before my eyes. Her pretty face crumpled. “And that’s the problem.”
I shook my head. “What’s the problem? That I want my wife back? Your best friend back?” I pointed at her.
She sighed and walked nearer to me. “One second you remember who she is, and the next, you’re reminding her of who she’s not and who she might never be again. Don’t you remember who she was at all?”
“I know who she was. Who she is,” I snapped. “I’ve always seen her.”
Her smile was soft but sad. “Yes, you always did. But do you still? She’s an elemental, Hades. She’s been reborn. She didn’t lose all
her memories. In fact, she remembers quite a lot of them, I’d wager.”
“And how would you know that?”
She touched her chest. “Even without it inside of her, I can still hear it sing to me. I know the deepest parts of every heart. It is my power. And I am telling you that you have to stop this before it’s too late.”
“Stop what?”
“Oh, c’mon, Hades! Don’t play stupid with me. We both know that traipsing through centaur lands and now Baba’s lands is a puny effort at forcing her to remember her life before. But so much of her already does. Don’t you see that yet?”
I spread my arms. “I’m trying. I love her. I still do, with everything inside me.”
“You love the bits of Calypso still left in her. But she calls herself Thalassa in this world. She thinks as such. She is driven by that darker aspect of herself. Instead of trying to coax the ghost from her, you should take this time to get to know her, the real her, the new her. That darkness in her shouldn’t terrify you, Death. Is it not just an extension of yourself as well? You as much as said so to her this morning, and yet you’ve already forgotten all of that. How could you?”
I glanced off to my right, staring at the wall of trees, searching for answers they could not give me.
“Will she never come back to me?” I asked, voice trembling as the feeling that I was losing her all over again wormed its way through me.
“I don’t know. Maybe. But that woman took years, even centuries, to create. This one is a new version of her, and wouldn’t it stand to reason that she, too, could take centuries to be remade? You loved her once, and all these sides of her were always in Calypso, some more dominant at times than others, but always a part of her. Deep down, you know that. So love who she is, not who you want her to be.”
I hissed and turned on her. “Why would you say that to me? You know how I feel about her.”
She shook her head. “Because we both know its true. Stop talking of the past. Stop dragging her from one stupid place to another that has no bearing on her life today. Discover who she is now. You’re more compatible than you might imagine.”
I closed my eyes. I knew Aphrodite spoke truth. I did like what I’d seen in Thalassa today. I’d loved her touch and her taste, but mostly, I’d simply enjoyed the presence of her company.
For so long, my world had been filled with nothing but gloom. But on this day, it’d been bright, overflowing with color and verve. But since she had gone, the leaves looked less green, the sky a lighter blue, and my world was turning gray again.
“What if she won’t come back to me?”
“Oh, Hades,” Aphrodite whispered, “you’re the only one she would return to. She’s as drawn to you as a moth is to flame, and that’s why she fled as she did. You scare her. You scare that darkness in her, the one that believes that love is a weakness and a torment. But all of that, all of that, stems from the pain of losing you. It is that severing in her that she grapples with. She may not even recognize that on a conscious level, but I taste the terror and panic of that loss as keenly as if those feelings were my own. It is not you that causes her to run. It’s her. It’s all her. So be there for her. Remind her as many times as you need to that love is not a weakness but a strength. Her strength. That… that is what you must make her remember and nothing more. You may yet get Calypso back in the future, but today, she is Thalassa. And if you actually claim to love her, then you must love all parts of her because that’s how love works. You don’t get to pick and choose, Hades. None of us do.”
Hoarsely, I said, “I could say the same to you, you know. Fight. Fix yours. Do what needs doing. As I recall, I’m not the only one dealing with this fallout.”
She shrugged, and a look of bitter disappointment flashed through her eyes. “Yes, well, the fate of Kingdom doesn’t hinge on my toxic romance, now does it? Fix yours, Hades, because only you can.” And with those parting words, she was gone.
My thoughts turned back to Calypso, and I cringed, stopping my thoughts in their tracks. I realized with a start that Dite was right. Much as I’d told myself I knew who Thalassa really was, I’d been trying to coax out her past.
But I’d felt the passion of her kiss, the feel of her on me, the way she’d responded to me, and how easily we could still be together. Calypso or Thalassa, she and I were still one.
And somehow, I would make this right.
Thalassa
* * *
I sat in the deepest folds of my waters, staring with eyes that saw nothing into the vastness of time and space.
Why had I done as I’d done? What in the bloody hell had made me think that acting out in such a manner would have been a good thing?
My nostrils flared as I tasted the bitter, acrid tang of my waters on my tongue. It was my own emotions that caused my waters to be dead this way.
I remembered the other life, when my waters had been full of fantastical and whimsical creations of mine, birthed from the deep-seated peace and contentment just being with him had elicited in me.
I remembered the animals that trailed behind me as a child would its mother, content merely to be in my presence. I remembered the hippocampus I’d once called sister, and the glorious opulence of my underwater home, the castle built of a giant pearl with golden overlay, and how I’d even managed to create a type of moon and sun, even down there.
I’d created such beauty then.
I sighed and looked around me. There was no disturbance of either beast or man with me. No sirens.
Seren had once sparkled with verve, but the waters here were perpetually black and empty, with no warmth at all.
I squeezed my eyes shut, contemplating who I was and who I wanted to be.
The drive, the need to find my heart, take back my soul blade, and conquer the realm was naught but a tiny spark in me now. An emotion that had once been so overwhelming in me was but a whimper of noise.
I’d not laughed since my rebirth, had not understood the simple joy of spending time in the company of someone I truly liked, mostly because I’d liked no one.
I remembered so much of the previous world—the extended family I’d built, the friends I’d made. But I’d felt no pull toward them again, no desire to reclaim that which I’d lost. And even Hades’s memories hadn’t tugged at my heartstrings enough to make me curious enough to seek him out.
I’d been nothing but antipathy and alone with my isolated thoughts, imagining that the giant void inside of me might be filled once I became the goddess I should have always been, the powerful ruler of the pantheons, the mighty Thalassa once more.
Then I’d felt him watching over me, day and night, not interfering, but always there. It had infuriated me at first, confused me even. I’d tried to hide from him, but one could not hide from a god. If they had a mind to find you, they always could.
Once I’d realized that he’d only intended to look, I’d found myself wondering about him, why he did as he did, why he seemed so obsessed with spying on me.
I hadn’t lied when I’d said it’d been easy to put two and two together. I had so many memories of Hades that I’d known he’d been someone to me in the other life. I’d seen myself kissing him in several of the memories and even noted that I’d rather enjoyed his attention and had actively sought it out.
As my thoughts became more and more consumed by him, it was like something inside of me kept urging me to go to him, to find him, to see with my own two eyes, in person, what it was about the hermit god that should draw me so.
Then I had seen him, and I’d suffered the very last emotions I’d expected to—rage and betrayal.
Those emotions had made little sense to me, but they had helped feed the fuel of my fire. They made me think that I’d been right all along, and the gods of Olympus were unworthy to even be in my presence. But he’d not been like anything I’d expected. In my waking dreams of him, he’d been warm and caring, but the reality had been shockingly different.
He’d been as cold as I.
As bitter as I. And though he’d known me well enough to know that I could break him if I chose to, he’d not had the sense to fear me. He’d spoken to me as an equal, called me out on my duplicity, and had baffled me entirely.
He left me reeling and confused, wondering if I’d been wrong all along and questioning everything I’d thought I’d known. Being in his company had opened me up in a way I’d never expected, and I found myself falling into the same trap as the other version of me had.
It scared me that I could lose my edge so quickly. Was I doomed to become merely his wife again? With no thoughts of my own other than to please and serve him? Just what kind of relationship had we had before? Had I abdicated my divinity for him? Had I given him all of me and lost myself, my true self, in the process?
All I remembered was the sense of being stupidly content, like a meek little puppet who could not think or reason for itself, doing only as its master commanded.
That was a fate worse than death for me. I did not want to be unequally yoked to another, so addlepated in the head that I actually thought myself happy when, in truth, I was just a weak caricature of the woman I’d once been.
Just who had Hades been to me, really? But more than that, what had I actually been to him?
I knew the legend of him and Persephone, how he’d tricked her into becoming his bride in the Underworld, stealing her away from Demeter and making the poor child believe, after a time, that she’d actually fallen in love with her trickster husband.
There was a name for that kind of a romance. It was called Stockholm syndrome, and it was as unhealthy as Tartarus. It didn’t matter how real the emotions felt to the captive. The truth was that their captor had manipulated and tricked those feelings of fealty and devotion out of them. They had no more free will in what they did than a slave. They simply didn’t know it.
I could not imagine a more destructive and volatile union than that. The stories of Persephone and Hades seemed like a fable though, a tall tale, because though the stories of them existed, I could not actually think of a moment when they’d truly been together.
The Greek Gods of Romance Collection Page 31
