I barely manage to get my hand around the grip before they grab my elbow and slam the gun back into the holster. Then they punch me in the stomach. My breath whooshes out, but I manage to keep from doubling over.
Then I get a good look at my attacker. The rage I’ve barely been able to keep contained flares white hot. “Hermes.”
“In the flesh.” She kicks out my knee, and this time, I can’t keep my feet. I topple against my desk, and the bitch steals my gun. She ejects the clip and checks to make sure there’s not a round in the chamber in a practiced move so smooth it’s almost beautiful.
If she weren’t a fucking traitor.
I shove back to my feet. “You have a lot of nerve coming here.”
She tosses the gun away. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.” She looks different than the woman I’ve come to know, at least superficially. Hermes is a short, petite Black woman with dark-brown skin and a penchant for glitter and bright colors. Today, she’s wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, her hair in box braids pulled away from her face. “We could sit here for days and argue which one of us is the true traitor to Olympus, but there’s no time. Circe is in the city.”
“I’m aware.” My knee is a throbbing mass of agony, but I learned how to mask evidence of pain on my face a long time ago. “How doyouknow? You’ve missed every meeting I’ve called, and you sure as fuck weren’t putting your neck on the line last night out on the water.”
“I wasn’t invited last night,” she says primly. “You were engaged in a law-breaking coup that at least half the Thirteen will be ready to riot over when they find out.”
My face flames at the reminder of how I’ve likely made things worse instead of better. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes, yes. To answer your question: I know Circe.” She waves that away as if she didn’t just drop a conversational bomb. “She’snot one to get cornered, and she saw you coming a mile away.” Hermes makes a cutting motion. “You’re wasting time.”
“I’m. Wasting. Time.” I clench my fists, fury making my head feel like it’s about to explode. I advance on her, ignoring the twinge in my knee. “Yousponsored Minos.Yousold him your house to host the party that started this all. You have betrayed the position of Hermes, betrayed the Thirteen, and betrayed Olympus. Tell me why I’m supposed to listen to you instead of arresting you right here and now for working with the enemy?”
“Ibetrayed Olympus? Please.” She actually has the audacity to roll her eyes. “You’re so busy worrying about me that you’re not doing your fucking job.”
If a person could die from anger, I would have done so years ago. My siblings found their own way to survive growing up in our father’s house, but none of them held the dubious blessing and curse of being heir. Of being our father’s primary focus when he was home. Of being the one he was determined to sculpt in his image.
So, yes, I learned to deal with my rage at an early age, to shove it down deep where it couldn’t touch me, couldn’t make me weak.
All of those learned behaviors have nothing on what I’m feeling right now. I move toward Hermes. “I have had enough of your antics. You will have your title removed, and—”
“Gods.” She erupts in harsh laughter. “You think I care about the fuckingtitle, Perseus?”
The shock of hearing my actual name slaps me out of this fury. Almost. “You fought for it, didn’t you? All you had to do was steal one item, but you went so far beyond that you created a legend foryourself. Hermes, the untouchable. Hermes, the ghost. Of course you care about the title.”
“The title was a means to an end,” she snaps. “And that end is coming faster than anyone is ready for.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, you absolute dolt. It’s the truth.” For once, she isn’t wearing her jester’s smile. She glares at me as ifI’vedisappointedher.“This system—the system that created your father, the last Poseidon, the last Ares, the last Apollo, the list goes on and on—is broken. It’sbeenbroken. It’s never going to stop being broken because even the people who may have wanted change are chewed up and spit out into perfect little Olympian citizens. The Thirteen isn’t the only rot in this fucking city, but it’s the worst of it. We both know that.”
I open my mouth to refute her but can’t quite make the words come out. I know exactly what kind of monsters the Thirteen can be, and how little they face in the way of consequences when they hurt those who don’t have the power and money to object. “I’m trying to protect this city.”
“I know,” she says softly. “But who is going to protect it fromyou?”
I can’t stop myself from dropping my gaze, an instinctive avoidance of the point she’s making. That I’m one of the monsters. That I’ve hurt this city and will hurt it more before my time as Zeus is done. When I look up, she’s gone.
4
Hera
After the disastrous night with my husband, there’s no escaping reality. This entire situation has spun out of control. I waited in the spare bedroom for him to leave for the day. A strategic retreat, or that’s what I told myself as I listened to his footsteps pass mere feet from the door. Once he left, I took my time getting ready, hoping the familiar process would ground me. It didn’t.
I pace about the penthouse, fielding texts from my sisters—Psyche reassuring me that she’s fine, Persephone and Eurydice steadfastly refusing to consider evacuating to the countryside—and trying tothink. Poseidon isn’t returning my calls. Athena and Ares are very much Zeus’s people. Hades will look to the lower city first, second, and last. He’s only concerned with protecting his people there, andhisbarrier is still intact. The rest of Olympus can burn for all he cares.
As for the rest of the Thirteen? I can’t trust them. If they get a chance to help themselves, they’ll have no problem throwing me to the wolves to see it happen.
My opportunity to get ahead of Circe’s rage is rapidly dwindling. In truth, it might already be gone, but that’s a defeatist way of thinking. It’s not over until it’s over.
I don’t know that Circe intends to sack the city, or if she’s even capable of it with the people she has. If I were her, I wouldn’t bother with civilians. History has shown that they’re more than willing to be swayed by clever words and a pretty face. Circe has both. If she removes the Thirteen, then the path to the city is clear.
