Psyche
Helen Kasios lives in the same building as the rest of Zeus’s family. I’ve never been there before. Usually when the past Zeus entertained, he did it in Dodona Tower. The new Zeus has entertained plenty since he took over, but it couldn’t be clearer that he’s just going through the motions. He doesn’t crave the spotlight the way his late father did. Even when he was still called Perseus, he seemed more focused on the business aspect of things than his father ever was. The forty-day mourning period has come and gone, and people are already whispering about how resistant he seems to marrying someone and finally filling the Hera title. The last Zeus might have been monster incarnate, but he was charming and charismatic. He left large shoes to fill.
Of his four children, his youngest son, Hercules, managed to escape Olympus entirely. Perseus is now the new Zeus. And Helen and Eris are, as Eros said, insular. They’ve never crossed me that I’m aware of, but we haven’t gotten close enough to each other to create friction.
That changes tonight.
Tonight, when Eros wants me to try.
Does he realize what he’s asking of me? I glance at him in the elevator next to me, perfectly put together in a dove-gray suit and cream button-down shirt that offsets his golden skin. He catches my eye and gives our linked hands a squeeze. Yes, I suspect he knows exactly what he’s asking of me.
I’ve survived—thrived, even—in Olympus because I kept my distance and trusted no one outside my family. I took the lessons I learned in the first year here and never looked back.
Now I’m swimming in deeper waters than I’m comfortable with. As the elevator doors slide open, revealing a classy hallway with lush gray carpet and soothing blue walls, I have to acknowledge that I’m not a shark at all. I’m a minnow playing dress-up.
I hope I can survive the night without getting eaten.
“Breathe,” Eros murmurs.
Right. Breathe. Relax. Smile sweetly. Don’t let them scent weakness.
I’m sure that’s not what he intends to say, but I take it to heart all the same. Between one step and the next, I box up all my fears and insecurities and tuck them away. They’ll still be waiting for me at the end of the night. I can ignore them until I’m back in the penthouse, those strong walls between me and the rest of the city.
The hallway contains four doors, and Eros leads me to the one at the end. He barely knocks before it’s flung open by a glittering Helen. Literally glittering. The golden stuff coats her exposed skin—and there’s a lot of exposed skin around her tiny dress of the same golden color—and even her long light-brown hair. It turns her beauty otherworldly, as if a literal goddess has wandered into our presence, but the squeal she gives when she sees us shatters the illusion. “You’re here!”
She bounces up onto her toes to give Eros a kiss on the cheek, and I barely have time to process the hot flash of jealousy before she grabs my hand and pulls me forward to give me the same treatment. “I’m so happy to see you.” She all but drags me into the apartment, leaving Eros to trail behind us.
I get flashes of the place. Elegant people in evening wear draped over equally elegant couches in the living room. A color scheme that makes me think of the stormy ocean—gray wooden floors, moody blue walls, lots of white and sandy-colored furniture. It’s completely at odds with the shining woman attached to my hand.
She hauls me into a spotless kitchen with a full bar set up on the counter. “Pick your poison.”
I almost say red wine, almost fall back to some sweet drink that will make my teeth ache. But I promised Eros I’d try, and so I take a tiny leap of faith. “Bourbon.”
The smile Helen gives me is just as dazzling as her glitter-adorned body. “That’s my girl. I knew I liked you.”
“Correction, Helen; that’s my girl.”
I nearly breathe a sigh of relief when I realize Eros has joined us. He’s got a strangely indulgent smile on his face, and I can’t tell if he’s faking it or not. Just like I can’t tell how much of Helen’s enthusiasm is really her. Persephone does a beaming sunshine thing when she’s in public, and this kind of reminds me of that. But it’s less soft warmth and more lightning in a bottle. I get the feeling she might explode at any moment in frenetic energy that is as likely to harm as it is to entertain.
Helen waves Eros’s comment away as she pulls out a bottle of bourbon that’s outstandingly expensive. “She might be wearing your ring—it’s gorgeous, by the way—but you’re practically a brother to me, so that makes her family.” She beams at me. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”
I blink. “You have a sister. She’s standing right there.” I point at Eris, who’s wearing an ink spill of a dress and has her head close to a Black woman in a gorgeous—and tiny—red dress. I belatedly realize I recognize her as well. Hermes catches me looking and gives a cheery wave.
Helen snorts. “Eris isn’t a sister. She’s chaos personified.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “I have one of those, too.”
“Callisto.” She says the name like she’s savoring it. “I wish she’d come around more. She seems interesting. You all do.” She passes me the bourbon and pours a glass of red wine without asking Eros what he wants. Helen presses it into his hand and rounds the counter to stand a little too close. I’d take it personally, but I get the feeling that it’s just how she is with everyone. She rakes her gaze over me. “You look outstanding. You always look outstanding.”
I glance down at myself. I chose my dress carefully tonight. It’s a deep-green wrap dress that makes my breasts look great and maximizes my curves. “Um, thanks.”
“Oh, I’m obviously not telling you anything you don’t already know, but it’s still nice to hear, right?” She waves it away. Someone knocks on the door before she can continue. “I’ll be back. Enjoy the party!” And then she’s gone, trailing glitter behind her.
I feel like I’ve just been tossed around by a tornado and deposited somewhere completely different than where I started. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience, but it was disorienting in the extreme. I take too large a drink of my bourbon, but my nerves are in danger of getting the best of me. “Is she always like this?”
“No.” Eros shrugs. “When she entertains, she ramps up.”
Easy enough to read between those lines. She’s got a public persona the same way we do. From what I’ve observed, she likes people to underestimate her, and they see a happy, pretty fool and don’t look beneath the surface. I just hadn’t realized her energy level was so…high. “I see.”
Eros shifts close and pulls me into his arms. It feels horribly natural, as if we’ve been embracing much longer than a few days. I don’t tense and I manage to smile up at him as if deeply in love. The warmth on his face never ceases to set me back on my heels, but I manage to mask my response. He leans down to speak in my ear. “An hour or two and then people will drift off to other parties or clubs.”
Honestly, it’s not a big ask to play this role with him for a few hours. This party might be filled with people I’ve spent years avoiding, but Hermes is the only member of the Thirteen in sight, and so it’s still better than the events at Dodona Tower my mother insists on dragging me to.
I turn in Eros’s arms. He doesn’t let me go; he simply tucks me back against his chest and rests his chin on the top of my head. I don’t understand why this feels as intimate as the embrace, but I’m not going to break his hold just because my heart is racing as if I just ran up a flight of stairs.
And then my attention lands on the man across the living room, and I forget all about Eros. “That motherfucker.”
His arms tense around me, tugging me back a step when I would break free. “I didn’t know he’d be here.”