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“My room?”
“The other goddesses have concrete basement rooms like this one. But you, you’re above that. As am I. Artemis and Apollo. Once we reach Olympus, you and I will sit at Gaia’s feet and the others will serve us.”
Others? Sloane had to fight to keep the hopeful leap her heart gave under wraps.
“Who are these others?” she asked carefully.
“They’re the lesser goddesses. The ones who’ll be accompanying us on our journey.”
“I see. And they’re all here now? None have gone on ahead of us?”
“Certainly not.” He seemed astonished that she’d even ask. “No one precedes Gaia. All the goddesses, and myself, must wait for her to lead the way. Until she passes, which I expect will be in a day or two, each and every one of the lesser goddesses will wait right here with us. You, as a supreme goddess, are my last addition, the perfect complement to my role serving Gaia. Now we’ll be ready, whenever she is.”
Thank God. That meant the kidnapped women were alive. Including Penny.
Sloane squelched her relief. She was itching to probe deeper. But her negotiator’s instincts sensed that Luke was becoming emotional, and that he was already at the edge of his comfort zone. So she’d wait, stick with more basic, noninflammatory questions, and revisit the gray area later.
“Apollo. Is that what I should call you?”
“Not yet.” He visibly relaxed. “Not until our ascent. Here I’m Delphi.”
Delphi. Sloane racked her brain. If she remembered her ancient history correctly, Delphi was a sacred Greek temple or shrine, probably dedicated to either Apollo, Artemis, or Gaia. It made sense. Luke saw himself as the central vessel through which they would ascend to Mount Olympus.
“You’re angry.” Luke either made that assessment from her silence or her pensive expression. “And I know why. Professor Lyman. I’m truly sorry for your pain. But I’m not sorry I killed him. He deluded you. He made you believe he was your friend. He wasn’t. He was Python’s messenger, an evil serpent sent to destroy the purity of our upcoming journey. I had no choice but to kill him.”
This was the toughest moment of Sloane’s performance. She wanted to gouge out Luke’s eyes for what he’d done to Elliot. But what point would there be to lash out? It wouldn’t bring back her friend, and it would only condemn her and the rest of the women here to a certain death.
“I see your dilemma,” she said calmly. “And I’m not angry, just confused. I believe you about Python. But these other, lesser goddesses—who are they?”
His expression hardened, and Sloane realized she’d pushed one of his buttons. “You know who the other goddesses are. You’ve been tracking them, and me, for weeks now. Don’t toy with me, Artemis. I won’t tolerate it.”
“I’m not toying with you,” Sloane assured him. “I just wasn’t making the connection. Are you saying that the lesser goddesses are the women we classified as kidnapped?”
“They weren’t kidnapped. They were rescued. All except that bitch Tyche, who spurned the gods and will be condemned to a lifetime of hell. I wanted to make her pay for what she did to me. But the gods chose to handle it after I’m gone. So be it.”
Tai Kee. They’d all assumed it had been a Mandarin or Fukienese phrase. But it was just what Tina had said it sounded like—a name.
“Again, forgive my ignorance,” Sloane said ruefully, “but what is—Tai Kee, did you say?—the goddess of?”
“It’s Tyche,” he corrected her pronunciation, then spelled the name for her. “And she’s the goddess of fortune, prosperity, and luck. Or rather, she was. Now she’s just a dirty slut like the rest of them.”
It was the first time Sloane had heard or seen the brutal Luke, the man capable of being a serial killer. His gaze darkened to near black, and his features twisted with a rage so intense, it seemed to vibrate through him. The transformation was terrifying.
“If this Tyche is really that unworthy, it’s good that she’s not joining us and the others in our ascent,” Sloane said carefully.
“You’re right. I communed with the gods and they said the same thing.” As Luke spoke, the serial killer receded, replaced by the hollow-eyed Delphi.
“It sounds as if the gods have treated you well.”
“Always. It’s the demons sent by Hades who forced me to do those dirty, sickening things.” Luke pressed his hands to the sides of his head, gave it a few hard shakes. “I won’t think about that. The demons are gone now. They’ve lost this hard-fought battle.”
Luke was talking about the prostitutes he’d raped and killed. It didn’t take a psychologist to figure that one out.
Sloane took the opportunity to probe an area that Luke might now be receptive to, if only to supplant the dark voices in his head with something he considered light and beautiful. “Can you tell me the details of our ascent? The process sounds intriguing.”
“The process is secondary. The destination is everything.” Luke lowered his hands, but he was still shaking from whatever emotional upheaval had just taken place inside his mind.
“You mean Mount Olympus.”
