“You should know better. I don’t drive anywhere.” I force my expression into an irreverent smile. “I’ll be fine. I have my team with me.”
Instead of looking relieved, she only seems more concerned. “I know they mean a lot to you, but you’ve only had them such a short time. They aren’t your family.”
“I know.” And, frankly, that’s part of the attraction. I don’t wish any ill on my team, but the fact remains that they can take care of themselves. If it were a choice between them and my sisters, it would be no choice at all. That makes me a monster, no question, but I’m willing to live with it. “Stay here. Stay with him.” I jerk my chin at Eros. “Stay safe. Please.”
“I will, but we have to talk about—”
“Later,” I cut in before she can speak the truth of my current predicament aloud. “And until we do, I don’t want anything we discussed to be shared. Promise me, Psyche.”
I’ve never seen my sister look so conflicted. She worries her bottom lip and finally nods. “Okay. I promise to keep your confidence, but only until the day after tomorrow. Then all bets are off. So don’t be late when you come out to us again.”
As threats go, it’s efficient. If my mother finds out I’m pregnant from anyone but me, especially in such a tumultuous time, she’s liable to go on a rampage. No one wants that. “I’ll be here. I promise that, too.” I turn around and walk away before either of us can say something we’ll regret. I know Psyche doesn’t like this, but I don’t, either.
A fucking sex tape.
Even as I tell myself not to, I pull my phone out and look. Texts from Ares, from Persephone, from Eurydice. Not from my husband. If those three and Eros have already seen the video, then it’s all but guaranteed he has as well. There’s no reason for it to hurt that he hasn’t reached out to make sure I’m okay. Of course I’m okay. It’s a fucking video…showing me in an incredibly intimate moment I never would have shared publicly if I had any choice in the matter. But it’s sex, and no matter how vulnerable I was in the moment, Olympus has seen its fair share of sex tapes. Surely this won’t hold water when held up against the threat of Circe and the evacuation to the countryside. Surely our people have better things to worry about than me fucking my husband in a semi-public place.
Surely…
But I know better, don’t I? It’s written there on Ixion’s, Nephele’s,and Imbros’s faces when I approach the car. They’ve all seen it, and even though they stood outside the building while it was happening, it still clearly affects the way they view me. It’s going to affect the waythe entire cityviews me.
Nephele opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand before she can get a single word out. “I don’t want to talk about it. I would like to go home.”
Home. The very idea is laughable. That penthouse I share with my husband is no home to me. It’s a prison to be endured until this sham of a marriage is at its end, preferably with his death. And yet the closer we drive to the city, the more my heart rate can’t decide whether it wants to ease or pick up. The more the memories of what happened earlier today—and now writ large in grainy video for all the city to see—echo through my body.
It’s disastrous to still want him after everything. It’s horrific to crave his lips forming my true name, even when I hate him with every fiber of my being. It’s absolutely unforgivable to want his cold steadiness to calm the inferno inside me.
No doubt he’ll come to me with accusations instead of comfort. And what use do I have for comfort? If that’s what I craved, I should have stayed in the gentle embrace of my sister and mother. Or at least Psyche. My mother may play gentle for the public, but there are thorns beneath the facade. There always have been.
“Fuck,” Ixion breathes. “We have a problem.”
That’s absolutely not what I want to hear right now. I lean forward and press my fingers to my temples, hard. “What problem?”
I see what he means the moment I ask the question. The road ahead of us was empty, but now there is a single nondescript blackSUV blocking the way. Circe? But why would she bother to move so publicly when her threats are best made in the shadows?
I get my answer as we coast to a stop a short distance from the blockade. A familiar Black woman steps out of the SUV and stretches, her warrior’s form on full display. Atalanta. What the fuck is she doing here?
She strolls to my window as if completely unaware of the fact that every single person in this car, barring me, is reaching for their gun. I motion for Nephele to roll down the window and barely manage to get my expression locked down before she obeys. “Is there a problem?”
Atalanta smiles tightly. “You could say that. Athena would like a word.”
I make a show of looking around, of motioning to the empty fields on either side of the road. “She’s in the city, and I’m heading to the city. Why bother with all the theatrics?”
“Cute.” She jerks her thumb to indicate the car. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. It’s your choice, Hera.” It’s hard to tell because she’s so naturally charming, but I swear there’s a hint of derision in the way she says my title.
I glance at my team, each doing their damnedest to convey the fact that they are willing to fight their way out of this. But what’s the point? Fight our way out of this and…go back to the city where we’re still surrounded by enemies? Not to mention that Athena’s people are all, to a person, trained assassins. Atalanta may have started with Artemis, but that makes her no less fearsome.
There’s only a single car, but…Athena is not to be underestimated. If she’s determined to talk to mehere, out in the middleof nowhere, then she’s not going to let me go without having that conversation. It will mean a fight, which might end in my people being hurt.
I must care more than I previously thought, because the possibility leaves me cold. “Fine. Let’s have this conversation.” I glance at Ixion. “If they move, follow them, and we’ll reconvene back in the city.”
No one looks happy with this—at least no one except Atalanta. I step out of the car and walk side by side with her across the short distance to the SUV. Even as I tell myself not to show weakness, I can’t help but sneer. “What? No cute little quip about my newfound fame?”
She rolls her eyes. “No matter what you might think of me, I’m not a fucking monster. So no, I’m not going to ridicule you about a video that was obviously taken without your permission. Shove off with that nonsense.” We reach the SUV and she holds open the door, waiting for me to slide in the back seat.
There’s no going back after this. Athena could shoot me in the head and dump my body in the middle of the countryside, and no matter how hard my team fights, they’ll end up joining me in some unmarked grave. With all the chaos, it might be ages before someone finds our remains. I wonder if my husband would feel relief at being rid of me.
No. That’s defeatist thinking. If Athena wanted to kill me, she’d do it in the dead of night when it couldn’t possibly be traced back to her. This is a conversation, plain and simple. I willnotshow weakness. That doesn’t stop me from palming my switchblade as I slide into the back seat.
