15. Pandora

15

PANDORA

I don’t mean to go to Aphrodite.

After that disastrous conversation with Theseus, I actually follow him down the hall to apologize…which is when I overhear Minos’s not-subtle threat. Theseus doesn’t challenge him, doesn’t tell him to fuck off with that nonsense. He rolls over and shows his stomach. I hate that. Minos doesn’t deserve his loyalty.

But telling Theseus that will just result in a continuation of our fight.

He thinks I don’t understand why he follows Minos around like a whipped dog. I do. I was in that same orphanage he was. I suffered the same punishments, ranging from skipped meals to forced isolation to beatings. I am the reason Theseus committed the act of violence that brought us to Minos’s attention.

I never faulted Theseus for taking Minos’s deal, but we aren’t fifteen anymore. We don’t have to stay with him. That’s what Theseus doesn’t seem to understand.

I flee before they finish their little meeting. I just need some air. That’s all. Maybe that will help me find a way out of this impossible situation. Minos sees Theseus as a pawn; he always has. And what’s a pawn good for but sacrifice? Being Hephaestus won’t save Theseus if Minos decides he’s outlived his usefulness.

The worst part is that I’m not sure Theseus would fight. He might just kneel, bow his head, and accept his punishment as if that’s something he deserves.

I’ve known the man my entire life. I should be able to come up with the right sequence of words to get him to listen to me. Except every time I try, we end up in the same damn fight. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt so fucking helpless in my life.

I leave Minos’s penthouse and walk the streets. I’ll never get used to this place—or at least the city center where the rich and powerful make their homes. It’s all metal and concrete and glass. Soulless. Back on Aeaea, the rich don’t congregate in one place. It’s a point of prestige to have a massive house with even more massive grounds, all hidden away behind stone walls.

Gods forbid one of the rabble should dirty up the space with their presence.

It was one of those homes that Minos brought us to after slipping enough money to the right people to ensure he got exactly what he was looking for—two teenaged boys, their strength only matched by their rage. It’s just his bad luck that one of them came with me attached, but he wanted Theseus too badly to balk at my presence.

And now look at us.

We’re the bad guys. I might not have committed any violence with my own hands, but I stood by and let it happen. How could I do anything else? If the Olympians knew Minos’s plan to insert Aeaeans into the Thirteen through the assassination clause, they would have killed Theseus outright, and that I won’t be party to.

I slow and stop in front of familiar glass doors. Walking through them is in direct conflict with what Theseus wants, but at this point, I don’t know that he’s thinking clearly. I don’t know if any of us are. Things have changed too quickly, and despite all the preparation, it’s clear Minos didn’t actually know the full extent of what becoming one of the Thirteen means. He has his end goal, whatever it is, but he’s not offering Theseus any support in the meantime.

If I could get Theseus out from under his thumb…

I’m moving before I can think of how flimsy that excuse is. The lobby is exactly how I remember it from the other day—just as soulless as the rest of downtown. I smooth down my shirt and walk to the desk with the snooty-looking white woman behind it. She eyes me as if I’m a piece of trash that blew in off the street, but her expression changes as recognition rolls over her pretty features. “You’re Pandora.”

This is something I’ll never get used to. I might not be in the spotlight as much as the rest of Minos’s household, but strangers are still starting to recognize me. I don’t like it, but I manage a smile all the same. “Is Aphrodite in?” It’s on the tip of my tongue to spin some lie about why I’m here to see her, but overexplaining won’t do me any favors. This woman isn’t the one I need to convince to help me.

“I can check. Just a moment.” She’s perfectly polite now, though I catch her watching me beneath her fringe of blond bangs. A few seconds of murmured conversation later, she carefully hangs up. “You can go on up. I’m assuming you know the floor number?”

“I do. Thanks.” Now’s the time to turn back, to put a stop to this impulsive urge to see her. Aphrodite is not my ally, and she’s all but admitted that she’s using me to hurt Theseus.

But… What if she could be an ally?

That’s the question that drives me to walk slowly to the elevator and take it up to her floor. Or that’s what I tell myself. The truth is far more tangled.

Aphrodite meets me at the door. She looks similar to how she did the morning after her wedding, her hair hanging in careless waves, her face with only the barest hint of makeup, her long legs in fitted lounge pants. Her sweater looks comfortable, thin and soft; I have to clench my fists to keep from testing it for myself.

I don’t understand the hold this woman has on me.

“Well, don’t just stand there. You look like you could use a drink. Tea or tequila?” She steps back and holds the door open for me.

“Um. Tea would be great.” I step into the penthouse and follow her into her kitchen. I fully expect her to launch into an interrogation as to why I’m here, but she busies herself getting an electric kettle going and pulling out a tray with the most bougie tea setup I’ve ever seen. I eye it. “No store-bought brands for you, I see.”

“I’m a spoiled brat.” She shrugs. “I like my indulgences, and tea should always be an indulgence.”

I slide onto one of the barstools and watch her brew the tea. She doesn’t ask me what kind I want, which is just as well. I’m more of a coffee drinker normally, but I can’t deny how relaxing it is to watch the almost ritualistic way Aphrodite moves through the process. By the time she slides a cute little cup and saucer in front of me, along with a tiny tray with milk and sugar, most of the tension has melted out of my body.

“How do you do that?” After the slightest hesitation, I dose the tea liberally with both milk and sugar.

“I find it calming.” She doesn’t add anything to her tea. She just picks up the cup and leans against the counter across from me. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why would anything be wrong?” The words are too sloppy, too quick. “Maybe I came here to seduce you.”

Her smile is knife-sharp. “I’d love to be seduced by you, Pandora, but the fact remains that you seemed almost afraid when you showed up on my doorstep unexpectedly, and as much as I want you in my bed, I don’t want fear driving you there. So why don’t we try this again? What’s wrong?”

It’s so tempting to spill everything. There’s something about this woman, about the connection strumming between us even now, that makes me want to trust her. I’m not so foolish as that, though. “I don’t want Theseus hurt.”

She makes a face. “Oh. Him.”

“Yes. Him. He’s my best friend, Aphrodite. I love him, and I hate seeing him dragged through all this.” I take a cautious sip of my tea and am surprised to find that I like it. It’s not as bitter as coffee, but it’s got a delightful layering of flavors. “This is good.”

“You don’t have to sound so shocked. I made it; of course it’s good.” She sips her tea for several long seconds and finally sighs. “Look, I like you.”

“Yes, you’ve said that.”

“But it changes nothing. The man you came all this way to defend is a violent murderer. You can’t spin some tale about him being a good person who’s in over his head. He would have killed my sister in the Ares tournament without hesitation, and he did kill Hephaestus at that cursed house party. He’s been an active participant in Minos’s plans every step of the way, and if he has his way, he’ll destroy the city I love.” She sighs again. “I feel for you. Truly, I do. I know it’s not easy to be subject to a family ruled by a man who puts ambition above all else. But the fact remains that my husband has made his choices. I have to make mine, too.”

She’s being remarkably frank in a way I find refreshing. But then, she’s always seemed to be frank and downright honest when we speak. Maybe that’s all a ploy to gain my trust, but my instincts don’t think so.

I sip my tea. “You’re talking about your father. The last Zeus.”

Aphrodite hesitates, almost as if she’s arguing with herself. Finally, she shrugs. “My father wasn’t much different from Minos, best I can tell. Ambition and power didn’t turn him into a monster, but they gave him the ability to be monstrous without worrying about consequences. He formed me and my siblings into tools the same as Minos has done with his children and foster children. So, as I said, I sympathize.”

I hadn’t given much thought to the last Zeus, seeing how he’s dead. But it’s impossible to escape his shadow in Olympus. People still talk about him in whispers, and when I got curious and looked him up in MuseWatch, I was a little shocked to find rumors that he killed three of his wives.

Including Aphrodite’s mother.

“That must have been hard for you having a father like that.”

“I survived.” She’s obviously trying for an irreverent tone, but she doesn’t quite pull it off. “He didn’t break any of us, though he drove one of my brothers out of this city and now he’ll never return, even though the old bastard is dead and gone.”

This openness has to be a tactic of some kind, but if I want Aphrodite’s help, I have to offer her something. I drink half my tea while I debate how much to tell her. I know Minos—or his benefactor—has put significant resources into burying any mention of them and their history…which includes records of us and the Minotaur from before he fostered us.

That history can’t touch us now, but it might not hurt to share to see if it tips Aphrodite in a more sympathetic direction. “Theseus and I were both dropped at the same orphanage when we were babies. It was…” I stare into the remains of my tea. “It was bad. It could have been worse, I suppose, but we learned early to watch each other’s backs and that we could only trust each other. I’m not proud of some of the things we did to survive, but the alternative?” I shrug, fighting to keep tension from my shoulders. The alternative was death or being forced to barter body and soul to those more powerful for protection. Drugs ran rampant through the older kids, an intentional funnel between getting them hooked and then feeding them into the underground of Aeaea.

Theseus and I managed to evade that fate, but I can’t help feeling like he bartered body and soul, just in a different way. For me. “I can’t regret what he’s done to secure our safety.” Regretting it means devaluing his sacrifice, and I won’t do that.

“I’m sorry.” Aphrodite sounds like she even means it. I can’t help checking her expression, searching for pity I don’t want.

It’s only the absence of it that keeps me going. “We were fifteen when Minos heard word of us and came calling.” Gods, this shouldn’t be so hard. I clear my throat. “The reason he found out about us was, well, one of the adults at the orphanage was taking too keen an interest in me. He came to my room one night and Theseus beat him nearly to death.”

“Pandora…”

I keep going. I’ve committed to this, and I’ll see it through. “He kept me safe. Against all odds and even though he was just a kid himself, he’s always kept me safe. Minos seemed like a gift from the gods, but neither of us was naive enough to believe it came without strings. That’s why Theseus negotiated to ensure Minos took me, too.”

It’s my fault he took that deal.I don’t say the words. I’ve never said the words. Theseus would argue me to a standstill if he knew I felt like that. To him, protecting me is second nature. He never counts the cost to himself.

“So, yeah, I won’t argue that Theseus —or I—are good people. I know we aren’t. But surely you can understand why he’s given Minos his loyalty. If you could offer something even greater, you might win his loyalty for yourself.” It’s a long shot, an impossible ask. If Theseus won’t turn away from Minos for me, what can she possibly offer that would sway him?

Aphrodite considers me for a long time. “I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through. I’m even sorry for what he’s gone through, though Theseus hardly has the market cornered on suffering. But, Pandora, you have to understand. My first loyalty will always be to this city. I’ve sacrificed people I like and people I…love…for Olympus. Theseus—Hephaestus—doesn’t even rank. I can’t afford to hesitate or let my emotions make choices for me. As long as he’s a threat to Olympus, I’m a threat to him.”

“But—”

“I appreciate your loyalty to him.” She smiles a little. “He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

I could lie, but I have a feeling she’d see right through it. “No.”

I expect her to gloat. Or make a snide comment. Something to celebrate this little victory over her husband.

She doesn’t. Aphrodite’s dark eyes are sympathetic. “Would you like some more tea? I was just about to settle in for the night and read a book. You’re welcome to join me.”

Longing hits me hard enough that I sway. I shake my head, trying to focus. “No cavorting around town and making a fool of Theseus?”

“Ah, but there’s a method to my chaos.” She grins. “You have to give the press time to rest in between rowdy, scandalous acts. Otherwise, they lose their impact.”

I stare. Always three steps ahead. No wonder Theseus is struggling so much with her. None of the weapons he’s trained with work in the arena where he finds himself fighting. “You’re terrifying.”

“It’s been said before. It’ll be said again.” She shrugs, but the move is a little too tense to be fully uncaring. “Choose, Pandora. Stay or go?”

I drain the rest of my now-cold tea. Really, there’s no choice at all. I desperately don’t want to go back to Minos’s place, and I have nowhere else to go.

Excuses to take what you want.

I ignore the little voice inside me and set my cup down on the saucer. “I’m staying.”