A link appears. I already know what I’ll find before I click it. If someone’s always watching in Olympus, MuseWatch is always reporting. We knew that early on, of course, but even Minos underestimated its power initially.
The citizens of Olympus treat it as gospel, and they’re the ones we need on our side if we don’t want to get knifed as news of the assassination clause spreads like wildfire. Minos is riding that wave like he’s born to it, and why not? He’s the most charming motherfucker I’ve ever met. He could sell a drowning man water, and the public seems to adore him.
Unfortunately, manipulating public opinion isn’t a lesson Minos saw fit to teach me during all my training.
It’s even worse than I feared. The top headline splashed over the site screams:
HEPHAESTUS: DISAPPOINTING OLYMPUS AND HIS NEW WIFE.
“Fuck,” I breathe. It doesn’t get better as I read the actual text of the article.
Hephaestus and Aphrodite might have left their reception together, but they didn’t stay there. After what we can only assume was an underwhelming performance, Aphrodite was seen slipping into a certain club in the lower city. If you know, you know! Then this morning she posted a sultry pic with a mystery lover in the background who’s most assuredly not her husband. Can anyone blame her?
“Fuck,” I say again, this time with more force.
“She brings out that reaction in people.”
I don’t startle, but it’s a near thing. I glance up to find Adonis standing over me. This morning, he’s not dressed to perfection, wearing a plain white T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. For all that, they’re clearly expensive. He’s the kind of man who clothes himself in wealth thoughtlessly because it’s all he’s ever known. He’s got nothing to compare it to. He’s never gone hungry, never gone without. His privilege is written all over his perfect features and easy smile.
It’s enough to make me hate him, except hating him is exactly what Aphrodite would want.
With that in mind, I try for a smile. “I didn’t realize it’d be like this.” There. That’s a nice neutral statement.
Adonis, of course, takes the bait. He sinks down gracefully next to me on the bench. “It was cruel of you to invite me to the wedding.”
I consider and discard several responses. After what Aphrodite pulled with Pandora, I want to strike back, to put her in her place. The one thing I’ve always been shit at is dancing the careful choreography of speaking in layers. It’s easier to scare people into doing what I want, and that won’t work with Adonis.
Instead, I tell the truth.
“Yeah, it was.” I lean back until our shoulders brush. “But I didn’t choose to get married and I wanted to hurt her.” My wife doesn’t have many obvious weaknesses, but this man is one of them. I learned that well enough at the house party Minos hosted a few weeks back; the one that ended in blood and death. During one of the headfuck games Minos played, Adonis won a “date” with me.
I never did get a chance to collect on that.
“It’s just like at the party,” he says, mirroring my thoughts. “You’re both using me as a bone to taunt the other with.” Adonis shakes his head. “I came here to check on her, to make sure she’s okay. But after seeing that social media post, I feel naive. It’s not a comfortable feeling.”
I eye him. “You just called me cruel and now you’re oversharing.”
“I guess I am.” His smile is bright and as false as fool’s gold. “I’m very angry with her right now, and I suppose I’d like to give her a taste of her own medicine.”
Surely he’s not playing right into my hands and calling it his own idea? I’ve never been lucky, and it seems to defy belief that he’d present me with such an opportunity. I hold perfectly still. “Meaning?”
“Do you want to go get a drink, Hephaestus?”
When I took the title from the last fucker who held it, I never thought I’d miss my own name. Hearing his name on everyone’s lips makes me feel invisible. It’s too late to go back, though. I’ve made my devil’s bargain and now I have to live with it.
I nod slowly. “It’s ten in the morning.”
“As if that’s enough to stop us. I know a place.” He rises to his feet. Gods, he’s a handsome fucker. Smooth dark-brown skin, cheekbones sharp enough to cut, and broad palms that speak of strength beneath the polished exterior. He holds out a hand. “What do you say?”
Even knowing this is an opportunity I’d be a fool to pass up, I can’t help eyeing his face for any sign of the pity or derision I’ve come to expect from the people in this cursed city. It’d be hard enough to adjust to my new mobility limits without them seeing my fucked-up knee as an unforgivable flaw. They react more to that than to the fact I’m a proven murderer.
It could be a trap. The Thirteen have promised to leave me alone if I married the witch, but there’s nothing stopping Adonis from taking matters into his own very capable hands. He seems like a genuinely nice guy without a murderous bone in his body, but that doesn’t mean it’s the truth.
Going with him is a risk, but the potential gain is too tempting to ignore.
Adonis merely maintains his smile and waits.
Ultimately, what decides me is the trio of people all but pressed against the glass, watching us. My knee has started to stiffen up, and if I try to get up on my own, I’m going to give them something to laugh about.
I slip my hand into Adonis’s. I’m a good four inches taller and have to weigh quite a bit more since I’m not built lean like him, but he pulls me to my feet with no apparent effort. He keeps my hand for a beat too long and then steps back. “Come on. My car is out front.”
He easily matches his stride to my slower one, and ignores the people snapping pictures of us as we step through the door and out onto the sidewalk. I can’t tell if he’s just that used to being a tiger in a cage or if he’s got a better poker face than I realized. Each click of the cameras make me want to smash them into a thousand pieces. I can’t. I know enough to recognize that, even if I chafe against the constraint.
Adonis presses a hand to the small of my back. Not urging me faster, just angling his body between mine and the press. It shocks me enough that I’m still processing it a few minutes later when we’re safely in the back of his town car.
He…protected me?
I shake my head sharply. No, this is another game. There’s no way this guy is as guileless as he seems. This fucked-up city would have eaten him alive if that were the case.
Not to mention my wife would have chewed him up and spit him out without missing a step.
He gives an address that’s only a few blocks away. When he catches my glare, he shrugs. “I’m not going to make you walk it when you’re obviously in pain. I don’t think I like you very much, but cruelty for cruelty’s sake isn’t how I operate.”
Again, I search his expression for pity or some kind of judgment, and again there’s nothing. He states it as fact and that’s that. I don’t know how to feel about it, so I ignore it completely. “You seem like a nice guy.” He huffs out a laugh, but I continue before he can get a word in edgewise. “What are you doing chasing after that witch?”
“Eris is a lot of things, but she’s hardly a witch.”
My wife’s birth name fits her far better than her title. We did our research before coming here, so I know what the last Aphrodite was like—blond and gorgeous and selling an image of perfection. She’s nothing like the woman I married. My Aphrodite is all too happy to be messy in public and make a spectacle of herself, all to humiliate me. Yeah, Eris fits her a whole lot better than Aphrodite, but I’ll never call her by that name. It feels like a capitulation, though I can’t begin to say why.
I shift on the seat. I can’t stretch out my knee in this position. “She’s doing a damned good impression of being a witch right now.”