Bullshit. I’ll show them.
“Hey, Artemis!” I call. “How would you like a competition?”
She turns curious eyes to mine. “What kind of competition?”
“I bet you can’t drink as much as me before you pass out.”
Triton grasps my shoulder. “Thor. The pair of idiots said that to get a rise out of you. Don’t humiliate her.”
“I heard that!” retorts Artemis. “Nobody’s humiliating me.”
“Girls can’t drink as much as guys,” replies Triton.
“No, let her try,” says Loki, and a rumble of agreement spreads around the now-silent room.
Artemis leans across the table and picks up my mug, then sniffs. “You’re drinking mead. We’d need to drink the same thing to make this fair. I prefer wine.”
Dion tastes the mead and pulls a face. “True. Thor, pass me a glass. I’ll pour you some wine.”
I hate wine, rarely drink the stuff because it tastes terrible, but I relent. “Fine.”
“Awesome!” Dion slaps both hands on his legs as he sits forward, eager to watch.
Eyes fixed on Artemis, I knock back the contents of a glass Dion pours in one gulp.
She copies me.
Dion tops up our glasses.
This time, Artemis lets me drink first and I nod at her. “Don’t slow down already.”
“I’m not.” She drinks, then picks up another glass beside her and sips that too.
When Venus and Fulla snicker, I’m riled and shoot a reproachful glance at my cousin. She smirks in reply, already having changed alliances to her new friend. “Three glasses.” I snap my fingers at Dion.
“Slow down, man. You’ll make yourself ill.”
I make a derisive sound and pick up the first glass he fills. Our eyes remain on each other, hers amused and not awash with alcohol as they should be. The wine gurgles in my stomach, mixing with the mead, and I pause.
Artemis finishes two of her glasses and pauses too. “Everything okay, mountain god?”
“Yeah.” With my words comes a loud belch, causing more laughter around.
With a sweet smile in his direction, Artemis sips her third. “This really is good wine, Dion.”
“My pleasure,” he purrs, and when she shifts her attention from me to him, placing a hand on his knee, jealousy seethes in my queasy belly.
Does Artemis want a real man who knows how to fight and protect her, or one like Dion who’d be too distracted by the pleasures around him to do anything useful?
Dion stares at her lips in an attempt not to gawk at her tits swelling above her tunic. I should be in his position. Maybe I should’ve challenged Dion and then I could take his place once he sank under the table.
“Pay attention,” I growl.
Artemis looks back and drains her glass. “You sound drunk, Thor.”
I snort. “He might be the party boy, but I’m famed for my ability to eat and drink.”
“I’m worried,” she admits and bites the edge of her lip.
“Don’t be, we’ll look after you if you need help to get back to your room.” I take the bottle from Dion and swig. Screw glasses.
“No, Thor. I’m worried about you. How will we carry your glorious, muscled body to your room when you pass out?” She looks to Triton. “Do you think you can manage? Or is he too heavy for you?”
I grit my teeth—at her sizing him up with an appreciative smile, and her stupid comment.
Neither of us reply and I swig again, shocked when she takes another bottle and gulps back half the contents. Artemis wipes her mouth, which tips into a half-smile.
I catch Fulla’s eye, who’s staring in shock at Artemis. What did they expect from the girl who rips apart hens with her fingers?
Fulla’s face blurs as I look at her.
Shit.
“Thor?” Loki waves a hand in front of my face and I blink as his fingers morph into ten. “You’re looking a bit out of it.”
“I’m fine.” I hiccup. For fuck’s sake.
“Maybe we should stop?” suggests Artemis. “I told you I’ve had a lot of practice drinking wine. You obviously haven’t.”
“S’no different to mead.” I take a deep breath as another hiccup threatens.
“Thor, this is much stronger.” Dion waves a hand. “Just ask the girls.”
“Yeah, they can’t handle it either,” sneers Eros.
Artemis sets her bottle down. “I think we should stop. We had too many, too quickly. When it catches up, you’ll be sick. You’re already paler than usual.”
“I’m fine,” I mumble, then hiccup again.
The amusement increasing around me, in the room that’s begun to spin, contradicts my words. Shit. Do I save face and stop or keep going? How strong is this bloody stuff—I should’ve insisted we stuck to mead.
Artemis leans across the table and closes a hand over mine. Her fingers are warm and soft and I bet all of her skin is too and hell, look at those amazing tits and oh shit I’m staring and too fucking drunk to get up and walk away and she’s saying something and I need to stop hiccupping.
I shake my head, attempting to dislodge my dumb internal rambling in case the words spew from my lips.
Spew. I pull my hand away and place it over my mouth. Yeah, Thor, the god famed for his eating, ate too much. The extra helping of cream-covered dessert does not agree with this activity.
“Thor?”
I blink at her. I always win drinking contests. Always.
How do I get out of this one?
“Stop, Thor.” Triton’s voice whispers in my ear, disconnected from my surroundings.
I twist my head. “What the fuck did you put in my bottle, Loki.”
He touches his chest with his fingers, an insulted innocence I’ve seen many times before crosses his face. “Me? Nothing.”
“The fuck you did,” I growl.
“Face it, she outdrank you,” says Skoll with a laugh. “A new story for the history books.”
“Fuck you,” I snap and rub my temples. “Loki put something in the wine.”
All eyes turn to my trickster brother. “I did not! Don’t blame me for your poor performance.”
Underneath, I know he’s telling the truth. Usually Loki only tricks me if I piss him off about something; he knows better than to cross me. One accidental broken arm taught him that.
“Thor?” Artemis repeats my name and genuine concern troubles her brow.
Oh, man, I need to lie down.
My head hits the sofa arm and I close my eyes.
12
DION
Once Thor passes out and everyone realizes he actually lost to Artemis, the crowd dwindles. “Should we move him?” Triton says, looking warily at the enormous man.
“And risk breaking our backs? No. Leave him. I’ll tell the servants to wake him for breakfast.” I gulp down the remains of my wine. “We should probably call it a night. Tomorrow, the judges give out instructions for the next trial.”
The others agree and stand. Artemis hops to her feet quickly, only to sway a little. How the hell is she upright? Few people can drink that much and stay conscious, especially a girl. I know; I’ve seen enough drunken debauchery in my time.
My kind of girl.
I slip my arm around Artemis’s waist and she leans into my side. A group of partygoers pass by on their way to the door, some sharing my wonder at Artemis’s ability to walk. Eros, one of our competitors, stops with his friend Adonis. Both of their eyes linger on Artemis a few seconds longer than I or any of my friends like. Even Triton stands.
“Looks like I need an introduction to your friend,” Eros says.
“Artemis, this is Eros.” I hold my glass to the man next to him. “That’s Adonis.”
The first man nods his chin at her. He’s not much to look at, but underneath his clothing, Eros is stocky with powerful legs and a barrel chest. He’s a fierce competitor. “Apollo’s sister?”
“That’s me.”
“Fitting that Apollo’s sister would drink Thor under the table.”
A rattling snore comes from Thor across the room in confirmation.
“Why’s that?”