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And then all I can do is cling to her, her name spilling out of me like a mantra, like a prayer. “Janie, Janie, Janie.”
She laughs and hushes me through her own tears. “Pen, it’s okay. I’m here. You found me.”
I’m distantly aware that there’s some kind of uproar going on around us, magic still dancing through the air, but I really can’t give two shits about it. I know Adonis has my back, he’ll make sure no one pulls anything. And I honestly just can’t bear to let go of Janie right now, not even to take a full breath.
I do try to pay attention when Adonis makes a little sound in the back of his throat, and I look up in time to see Aphrodite starting to slip away in the confusion, probably trying to distance herself and hope everyone forgets about her sending me into the Underworld.
A little bit of icy calm manages to creep back through me, and I wipe my tears away hastily because I can feel Ares—his power pushes against the ether of Olympus and I know he isn’t far away.
“Don’t go just yet, Mother. There’s actually someone here who wants to have a word with you.”
I can tell the exact moment that she recognizes the terrible thunderstorm pressure of the aura pushing its way into the acropolis, because she goes very, very still. I would have thought it would be satisfying, to see all the blood drain out of Aphrodite’s perfect face, but abruptly the whole spectacle leaves me feeling a little sick to my stomach.
The uproar around me swells to a peak, gods and goddesses leaping to their feet, shouting loud enough that even Zeus’s thunderous command for order can’t seem to shut them up.
Because for the first time in a millennia and more, Ares, God of War, sets foot on Olympus.
Ares’ presence creeps across the floor, his power riding the air before him like a vanguard of crashing metal and the iron and flesh smell of blood. His shadow stretches, long and lean, the darkness of it draping over Aphrodite like a shroud where she stands, her chin tipped up, trying to use arrogance to mask her obvious fear.
“Hello, Aphrodite.” Ares smiles at her. There are far too many teeth in the expression for it to be anywhere close to friendly. “We need to talk.”
SEVENTEEN
PEN
After everything I’ve gone through, after everything I’ve seen, I kind of expected my apartment to feel incredibly small.
Especially with an extra person in it.
But after walking in, I spend twenty minutes just drifting around, touching the pillows that Janie and I picked out, running my hand over the drapes, opening my cupboards, and staring like the boxes and cans inside are all lost artifacts from an ancient civilization.
Then I plug my phone in—simply out of habit. The thing must have gone dead about twenty-nine days ago, because when it gets even a smidge of electricity in it, it just about starts vibrating off the counter. I notice I have literally hundreds of missed calls from my agent, Renfield, as well as a couple photographers, and also some business man who makes a lot of thinly veiled hints talking about a ‘professional opportunity’ he wants to talk to me about.
I delete them all, most without even reading or listening to them.
I’ve already decided I’m going to get into a new line of work.
Adonis looks totally out of place in the middle of my downtown apartment, still in his armor with a sword belted to his hip. But I’m just so glad to have him here with me that I can’t keep the smile off my face.
He and I slipped away from Olympus while Ares was confronting Aphrodite. I don’t know how that whole thing turned out, and I’m not sure I want to know. What Aphrodite did was despicable, for sure. That’s the kind of shit someone like Azhrea would have pulled. And I do agree she deserves to be punished, to face consequences for her actions. But she’s still my mother, even if she is a terrible one. I can’t wish for her to be harmed.
“So. What now?”
Adonis’s question snaps me back to attention, and I realize I’ve been staring at my TV like I’ve never seen it before—and for a solid five minutes.
I cross the floor between us and give his hand a squeeze. “That sort of depends on you.”
His expression is somewhere between confused and concerned, but he happily laces his fingers through mine.
I hurry to reassure him. “I mean, I’m happy to have you here with me, and I’ll be sad if you want to leave, but I won’t try to keep you here if that’s what you want. The world has changed a lot, since you last saw it, Adonis, and I get it if you want to go out and experience some of it. I’ll help you, anyway I can.”
It would hurt to see him walk away. Like someone carved out a chunk of my heart. But I’d never try to guilt or manipulate him into staying. He’s had way too much of that already.
Adonis pretends to consider it, but I can see him fighting a smile. “Hmm. I don’t suppose there’s much demand for a sellsword these days?”
“Ah, no. Not so much, I’m afraid.”
“Well, I’m not sure what I’ll do with myself then.” He smiles at me, wide and brilliant, his left cheek dimpling. “Perhaps you’ll be able to put up with me, while I figure things out.”
