“Actually—”
Psyche continues as if I haven’t spoken. “Then again, I suppose it’s not that simple. She and my mother have been feuding for a decade, and she won’t like that Demeter is stepping on her toes. The why doesn’t matter. The bottom line is she’s got nothing to ruin me with. I have no skeletons in my closet. Which means she’ll make some up.” She folds her arms on the table beneath her breasts. “So what’s on the agenda? Will you fabricate some seedy sex scandal? Maybe even attempt to exile me, though good luck with that. My mother won’t stand for it.”
She’s obviously not taking this seriously, and I suddenly need her to be. I don’t know why. My job would be significantly easier if she thought this wasn’t literally life or death. And yet I find myself telling her the truth. “Aphrodite doesn’t want you ruined. She wants you dead.”
Psyche goes pale.
I expect tears. Begging. Maybe even for her to try to run. She does none of those things. After taking a moment to collect herself, she merely squares her shoulders and holds my gaze. “Eros, you strike me as a not-unintelligent man.”
“Thanks,” I say drily. Experience had given me a map of how this conversation would go, and Psyche hasn’t performed to expectations at all. Against my better judgment, a sliver of curiosity wedges itself through my determination to see this through. I knew she was different from anyone I’ve dealt with previously. I suspected she was formidable, but she’s even more than I could have guessed.
“You must realize who I have in my corner. If you do something to me, Persephone will rip you into a million pieces, and Hades will stand by to ensure no one stops her from doing it.” She leans forward, and I can’t help glancing at where her impressive cleavage presses against the V of her sweater. “That’s not even getting into what my mother will do. Unlike Aphrodite, Demeter has no problem getting her hands dirty when the situation calls for it.”
“Are you saying your mother murdered the last Zeus?”
“Of course not.” She snorts. “That’s an unsubstantiated rumor and you know it. Let’s not pretend your mother wouldn’t have pounced on the story and run with it if she had even a shred of evidence.”
She’s not wrong. Still, I find it interesting that she didn’t flat out say Demeter is innocent. The official story might be that Zeus somehow accidentally broke the window in his office and accidentally fell to his death, but everyone knows it’s fiction.
None of that matters, though.
This is quickly spiraling out of control. “Psyche—”
“I’m not finished.” She eyes the drink I ordered for her, the one containing the sedative that will knock her out and ensure she feels no pain. “There’s one additional element that you need to consider before we go any further. My mother is arranging a marriage between me and Zeus. I can’t imagine he’ll thank you for killing the future Hera.”
Understanding dawns, bringing with it frustration hot enough to burn me to ash. “If that were settled, this would already be squashed.” Not even Aphrodite would dare go after the future Hera.
“Maybe, but it’s still a very large risk to take. As I said before, you strike me as a smart man, so you must have considered this already.”
That’s quite the backhanded compliment. Against my better judgment, admiration snakes its way through me. She came in here expecting one thing, but she’s pivoted with barely any hesitation at all and is well on her way to outmaneuvering me. “If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be all that smart, would I?”
“Exactly.” Psyche tilts her head to the side. “With all that said, I have a question for you.”
I sit back with a curse and wave my hand. “By all means, don’t let me stop your brilliant monologue.”
“Thank you.” She gives me a small smile that almost combats the fear lurking in her hazel eyes. I had a lot of assumptions about this woman when her family first appeared on the scene ten years ago, and those assumptions only seemed to be confirmed in the intervening years. Between her helping me at the party and this conversation, I’m forced to admit that I might have been dead wrong.
She’s not a vapid social influencer whose only hobbies include spending her mother’s money and taking pretty pictures for her followers. There’s a cunning brain in that pretty head, and she’s using every bit of her intelligence in an attempt to get out of this situation alive.
Psyche tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “If stability is so important that Demeter, Hades, and even Zeus are all invested in seeing it happen, do you really think that they’ll stand back and let your mother’s petty feud go unchecked? They might be willing to look the other way when her targets are outside their immediate circle, but I am not some poor socialite who no one has ever heard of. I’m Demeter’s daughter. If you harm me, they will take action. They’ll crush her, and you with her.”
She’s not wrong. When the majority of the Thirteen get on board and agree with one another, they’re nearly an unstoppable force. It’s too damn bad it won’t make a difference for the woman sitting across from me. “Cute story. Even if it’s true, it won’t matter.”
At that, her smile dies. “What are you talking about? I just named a good number of the major players in this city, and I imagine Poseidon will throw his support behind them as well since he seems to hate all the jockeying for position. That’s all three of the legacy titles. Surely your mother is smart enough to know when she’s been outmaneuvered. Surely you are. No logical person would continue down this path against these odds.”
I bite back a sigh. That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? “Bold of you to assume my mother and logic have ever been on speaking terms. Do you know her at all?”
She opens her mouth, seems to reconsider whatever she was about to say, and finally frowns harder. “I thought the petty, vengeful thing was an act.”
My life would be so much simpler if it were, if my mother didn’t live to see the downfall of anyone who crosses her, even in passing. “She’s more than capable of dealing with the fallout.” One way or another. I don’t know how she’ll manage it, but I already know what she’d say if I brought this to her.
Your job isn’t to think, Son; it’s to punish who I tell you to punish.
Kill the girl and carve out Demeter’s heart in the process.
Psyche goes even paler. “You really mean that.”
“I do.”
“I just came here and told you that I can marshal a good number of the Thirteen against you, and it doesn’t matter how many moves I make because the person giving you orders cares more about her personal vengeance than she does about her son’s life.” She stares up at me, searching my face for something that she’ll never find. “She’s the reason you were hurrying to the party, isn’t she? That you didn’t go to a doctor first? I bet she was furious you were late.”
Psyche’s hitting a little too close to the truth. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. You were hurt. Even my mother, with all her machinations and ruthlessness, would care if one of us were injured.”
I give her the look that statement deserves. “I would say that supports my point, not yours. But it doesn’t matter, because no one will pin this on me. You made sure of that.” I pull my phone out, find the app I want, and open it. Then I set it on the table between us. Psyche leans over and scrolls through a few posts, going paler and paler. I already know what she’ll see. Hermes and Dionysus and a curvy brunette apparently having the time of their lives on the town. The brunette’s face is never quite in the picture, but she’s close enough to Psyche’s body type and hair style that everyone will believe it’s her. “These photos are all tagged and time stamped. No one even knows you’re here.”