Moused? Davyn mouthed the word to Urian, who shrugged and then made the hand gesture to remind him that Artemis was a bit crazy.
Acheron cleared his throat. “I think she means idioms.”
She turned a peeved glare at Acheron. “No, this time, I got it right. Modern idiots. Anyway, my mother hated her because she coveted Bathymaas’s powers and because Bathymaas didn’t stop Hera from being such a bitch to us and leaving us with the blood-sucking curse…”
Yeah, how nice of his grandfather, who hated the fact that he was damned to drink blood from his sister, to put that off on them.
Effing bastard.
For that alone, Urian wanted to cut off his head and deliver him up to Helios.
But Artemis continued her explanation. “So when Apollo fell in love with Bathymaas and she refused to have anything to do with him, he was furious. When he found out she was not only in love with the Atlantean Aricles but sleeping with him, he went crackers.”
“Nuts.”
“What. Ever.” She growled at Acheron and his continued corrections. “Apollo’s the one who tricked her into killing you,” she said to Styxx, “just like he did me with Orion. Bastard bitch that he is. It destroyed her. But you swore to her if it took you ten thousand lifetimes, you’d find your way back. And I’m glad you did, but Apollo won’t be so happy once he realizes you’re you.”
Urian was confused. “Wait. Bethany isn’t Bathymaas. Bathymaas was born of the primal source. Bethany wasn’t.”
“Yes, she is. She’s born of Set.”
“Set?” Urian still didn’t see the connection.
Artemis nodded. “She went”—she passed an evil grimace toward Acheron—“insane. Rather similar to what Apollymi did when Apollo killed Acheron. But her off knob—”
“Button or switch?” Acheron really didn’t seem capable of stopping himself from correcting her. Urian was beginning to think his boss did it just to get underneath her skin.
She wrinkled her nose at him and kept talking. “Off switch was a lot harder to find than Apollymi’s. The only way to stop Bathymaas was to have her reborn without the memory of her life and love with Aricles. It’s why her mother was Symfora—the goddess of sorrow—and why Bethany wouldn’t marry or really dabble much with men until Aricles was reborn. But weirdly, she’d always go fishing where the two of them used to meet all those centuries before. Like she was waiting for Aricles to come back, even though she didn’t remember you or him.”
Urian let out a heavy sigh. Fate will out. It was what his father had always told him. No matter what you do, some things couldn’t be changed. Urian got that.
“And that’s why I didn’t throw a fit the day I met you that first time.”
Urian turned toward Set as he joined them in the room.
“As soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew you were Aricles. That somehow, you’d managed to keep your word and find her again, and I’m pretty sure it’s what drew Apollo to you, too. Why he was so hell-bent on making you suffer.”
“No.” Artemis let out a bitter laugh. “That was my idiot other brother who pointed Styxx out to him. I always hated Dionysus. You give Apollo too much credit. He’s like a spoiled toddler … pretty … shiny … gimme. Kind of like Acheron’s demon.”
She met Styxx’s gaze. “Bathymaas was my brother’s first love and her rejection emotionally crushed him—at least that’s what he claims. Because of that, my mother cursed the two of you to never be together.”
“Is that why Bethany can’t wake up?”
“In part,” Set said with a heavy sigh. “But mostly it’s because she only has half her heart. To bring her back and allow her to be sane and not the soul of vengeance she became after the death of Aricles, I had to remove the part of her heart that had you in it and wipe all knowledge of you from her memory.”
Acheron frowned. “That’s biologically impossible.”
“No. You forget, boy, we’re gods. Bath isn’t human in any way, nor was she born of a mother’s womb. She was a gift to me from the Source to teach me compassion for others. As the Mavromino allowed the birth of the first Malachai to calm your mother, the Kalosum created her to keep me from turning my back on what I’d been born to do. It’s why she was never supposed to know the love of any man. Her duty was to stay pure and remain the order to my chaos. She was justice. Cold and unyielding, without any personal interests or the ability to play favorites. Aricles changed all that. When her heart broke in half over his death, her tears are what transformed her into ruthless, uncaring vengeance. She lost all balance and nothing mattered except to make the world pay for the wrong it’d done her and Aricles. Ironically, it was that more than anything that showed me why I needed to keep a handle on my own powers. As bad as she was, I would be much worse should I ever let the Mavromino control me.”
Styxx glanced back to Bethany. “So how do I wake her?”
“You have to return her heart to her.”
“And that is where?”
Set sighed. “Last I heard it was given to Epithymia. The ugly side of desire is covetous jealousy. Epithymia wanted Apollo and thought that if she stole that part of the Bet he once loved, it would help her to seduce him.”
Artemis scoffed. “Didn’t work. She was too big a slut for my brother. He does have some standards.”
Not that Urian had ever heard of. Apollo was about as fickle as they came. He cared for no one and nothing.
“Then she’s the one we use the necklace on first.” After kissing Bethany’s hand, Styxx pulled the covers up over her. He stepped back and swept them with a determined grimace. “Let’s do this.”
Urian nodded. They’d all suffered enough. It was time to take back their lives and make the gods pay.
*
“You know this isn’t going to work, right?” Styxx asked Acheron as they teleported to Ash’s bedroom in Katateros.
“I’ve had worse odds.”
“So have I, but most didn’t work out well for me.”
Urian didn’t comment on that. He’d been there too many times himself. Most of which, lately, had come from Ash throwing his ass to the wolves, gallu, dragons, and just about every other demonic entity the gods had ever created.
So it was a good thing he was suicidal.
Bitterly amused, Urian glanced around the room that had changed about as much over the years as he had. Before Acheron’s marriage, the room had been sparsely decorated in black and brown. Now it was powder-puff blue with dancing circus animals on the walls and a canopied crib within easy reach of the large bed … a holdover from Acheron’s paranoia and guilt about his nephew Apollodorus, who’d been killed by the soldiers Urian’s grandmother had unleashed on him, thus causing the original curse against all Apollites.
Acheron’s son, Sebastos, was never left to sleep alone. The baby had been almost a year old before Acheron had allowed him to sleep anywhere other than his father’s chest.
But Urian couldn’t fault him for that. He’d been almost as bad with his own children.
Can you hear me?
He frowned as Acheron’s thoughts intruded on his, then nodded.
Good. I think it best if we communicate like this for a while.
Styxx nodded again.
Ash turned toward Urian. You hang back.
He saluted him to let him know he’d heard him.
Styxx went to the door and listened for the others. Seth’s “bird” spirit had shown them that the gods were all gathered in the throne room, where they bragged about what they intended to do once they had Apostolos or Ash, rather, in their custody.
None of it was pretty and it made Urian glad he wasn’t his boss and even gladder that they’d reconsidered sending Styxx in as his double.
Acheron joined Styxx at the door while Urian stayed by the windows. They’ve sensed our powers.
Something they wanted the Atlanteans to do since it would throw them off.
Ready? Styxx asked.
Absolutely not.
Urian bit back a snort at Acheron’s sick humor.