21. Hephaestus

21

HEPHAESTUS

I spend the day dodging calls from Adonis and texts from Pandora. If I talk to them, I have to tell them what happened with Aphrodite, and if I do that, then there will be separate fallout to deal with.

In between those times, I try to escape the inexplicable guilt saying I shouldn’t have left her alone. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. She’s fine. A few cuts and probably some bruises, but we gave each other worse while fucking. Yes, she was still a little unsteady on her feet when I left, but I’m sure she figured it out fast enough.

Probably.

Then comes the call I was expecting. The one I can’t avoid. I stare at Minos’s name on my phone for several beats and then accept the call. “Yeah?”

“Update me.”

I’ve never been one to crave a softer touch of parental love—how can you want something you don’t even know the shape of?—but there are days when Minos treating me like a soldier wears on me. They come more and more often since my failure during the Ares tournament.

I bite back a curse of frustration. Instead, a question bursts free that I had no intention of asking. “Are you responsible for the attack on my wife?”

He pauses. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes. No. I don’t fucking know. “Answer the question.”

“Very well.” Minos sighs as if I’ve disappointed him. “I’m not behind any of the attacks on the Thirteen. They’re in a situation of their own making, spurred on by the public that loves them and hates them in equal measure.”

“What about the Minotaur?”

“What about him?” His tone goes low and dangerous. “You’ve never questioned my plans before.”

“I’m not questioning them now.” I think. “But you stopped informing me of the next steps the moment I became Hephaestus.”

“Yes, I did. I don’t need you for this part of the plan. When it’s time for you to act, you’ll know.” A weighted pause. “Stop wasting time and energy worrying about things that have nothing to do with you. Your public image continues to deteriorate. They’re laughing at you.”

“I’m dealing with the public perception thing as best I can, but it will take time.”

“Weakness will not be tolerated. Get it handled.” He barely pauses, switching to his main focus in a heartbeat. “At the next meeting with the Thirteen, propose stricter regulations over the River Styx crossings. And tariffs.”

I hold the phone from my face and stare at it a long moment. “You want me to propose we install tariffs on half the city.”

“It only makes sense. The lower city is a leech on the rest of the resources. They offer little in the way of benefits and simply take food from the mouths of those who put in the work for it.”

Best I can tell, most of the upper city doesn’t do much work for their food, either. “No one is going to go for that.”

“You’d be surprised.” He sounds pleased with himself. “Hades hasn’t made many friends among the Thirteen during his term, and now that he’s got an heir on the way and Zeus doesn’t… It’s a fault line, my boy. They might all be Olympians in our eyes, but the citizens don’t see it that way. We can exploit that. Even if they don’t like you much, there are those among the Thirteen who would agree with this move because they dislike Hades even more than they hate you.”

It’s fucked up. I’ve been here long enough to understand that the upper city sees those who reside across the river as another city entirely, but best I can tell, the only difference is that the lower city doesn’t preen and primp in public or dance to Zeus’s tune.

I’ve read the reports. Hades is a good leader. He takes care of his people, even when he’s at a disadvantage against the rest of the city. By all accounts, his people love him.

How long will that love hold once they start feeling the burden of tariffs and the like?

Something uncomfortable twinges in my chest, but I shove it down. We didn’t come here to integrate with Olympian society. We came here to bring it down. I might not know the overarching plan Minos is putting in place—he’s not one to share more than he has to—but we aren’t the good guys.

I’ve never been one to concern myself with innocents, but I’ve also never been in a position where innocents might be affected by my actions. I don’t…

I try to put it out of my head like I have every other time I’ve bumped against shit Minos says or does that I don’t like. It’s not my place to question the plan. Minos is the one who put me on this path and helped me survive and protect Pandora in the bargain. I owe him too much to question him now. But…I want to question him. I want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing. Except I already know; exactly what he promised.

Destabilizing and bringing down Olympus.

It just never bothered me before. I clear my throat. “Consider it done.”

“Good. Keep me updated.”

“I will.”

He hangs up without saying goodbye. The awful sensation in my chest doesn’t abate as I check the time. I’m due at Aphrodite’s place before too long, and for all her determination to cook or whatever the fuck she had in her head this morning, I’m showing up with food.

It takes thirty minutes to find a place that sounds like something I’d actually eat and another twenty to drive to her building. Most of the Thirteen have chauffeurs, but I don’t trust anyone in this city enough to mindlessly let them drive me around.

Doing that shit is a good way to end up dead.

I take the elevator up to my wife’s place and let myself in. It feels strange to walk through the empty space and set the takeout on the kitchen counter. I expected her to sweep in the moment I walked through the door, a sharp word and a wicked smile firmly in place.

She’s nowhere to be seen.

The small hairs at the nape of my neck stand on end. “Aphrodite?” No answer. I take a moment to check the living room and then start down the hall. “Eris?”

She’s fine. This is just another game. Another way she’s outmaneuvering me. I poke my head into the guest bathroom and the spare bedroom, not finding anything, and then make my way to the master.

The bed is perfectly made, looking like something in a catalog for rich people, right down to the dozen pillows taking up the top third. I hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at it the other night. It’s luxurious and so perfectly Aphrodite that I shake my head…and pause. Is that the shower running?

I walk slowly across the bedroom, that sick feeling in my chest getting stronger. There is no way my wife would be in the shower at the time when I said I’d be here. Not after today. It’s too vulnerable a position. Even if she meant to seduce me, she’d do it in another way. I’m sure of it.

Feeling slightly absurd but not able to shake off my caution, I crack the door and push it slowly open. The shower is a monstrosity, a huge tiled beast that would probably fit five people without crowding.

My wife sits on the floor, her knees drawn to her chest and her head down, her wet hair creating dark rivers down her bare back. A bruise has blossomed on her hip, turning her pale skin a rainbow of purple and black, fading to green and yellow on the edges.

She looks…small.

I don’t remember moving away from the door. It’s like I blink and I’m back in the kitchen, my head swimming and my chest too tight. I don’t even pause to think. I drag out my phone and call Pandora.

She answers almost immediately. “What?”

“Help.”

Instantly, all joking is gone from her voice. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Aphrodite.” I’m whispering and that’s fucking ridiculous, but I can’t seem to stop. “I brought her dinner. Someone tried to shoot her this morning, and now she’s in her shower and she looks so fucking small, and I think she might be crying.”

“What?”

“She—”

“No, I heard you. I’m just processing.” She curses softly. “Damn it, Theseus, are you really hiding in her apartment instead of comforting her right now?”

“I don’t know how to comfort someone.”

Her tone goes soft. “Look, I’d come, but I think that just might complicate the situation tonight.” She hesitates. “You should call Adonis.”

It’s a token of how fucked my head is right now that I don’t even question if that’s a good idea or not. “You’re right. I’ll call him.” Now it’s my turn to pause. “You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” She gives a choked laugh. “And don’t you dare hide and wait for him to show up. Call him and then go, like, hug her or something.”

She might punch me in the face if I try, but at least then she won’t be crying. The thought of her crying is like someone shoved a piece of glass into my chest, and it grinds against my heart with each beat. I don’t fucking get it, not when a week ago I was ready to kill her myself.

I don’t want her to cry.

“Come by tomorrow. She’ll probably be happy to see you, especially if we fuck this up.” I hang up without waiting for Pandora’s response. She might agree, or she might argue just to argue because I’m the one who made the suggestion.

I call Adonis next, barely waiting for him to answer to cut in, “Someone tried to kill Aphrodite today and she’s kind of fucked up and I think she’s freaking out.” I’m speaking too fast, but it was one thing to patch her up in the immediate aftermath of the attack. It’s totally another to deal with the emotional fallout now. I’m shit at comfort. I punch shit and kill things. I don’t hug and cuddle and know the right words to say when someone just survived an attempted murder for the first time. “She needs you. We need you.”

A pause. When he speaks, he’s totally in control. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” His voice goes low and cold. “Because after we take care of Eris, you’re going to explain to me why you knew this happened and didn’t say a single fucking word until now.” He hangs up, which is just as well. I don’t have an answer for that. After last night, reminding him that we’re not actually on the same side feels like a lie.

If anything, I’m more conflicted than ever. It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense. I have my path. I’ve never strayed. I have no reason to, not when Minos has given me everything I need.

Except…

No. No use thinking about that now. Adonis will take less than twenty minutes to get here, and if Aphrodite’s still crying in the shower and I’m standing out here, wringing my hands, it will be a fight I’m not sure I can win.

A fight I don’t deserve to win.

Even knowing that, it takes me a solid two minutes to dredge up the momentum to carry me back into the bathroom. Aphrodite hasn’t shifted. Steam hangs heavy in the air, making my shirt stick to my chest after only a few seconds. I stop in the opening to the shower. “Eris?”

She moves slowly, as if she’s an old woman instead of in the prime of her life, turning just her head to look at me. “I’m not up for dinner.” She sounds remarkably normal, which is somehow worse. “Maybe another time.”

The urge to flee rises again, but this time I muscle past it. I don’t know what to say or what will get that awful lost look off her face, but I can’t leave her like this.

I don’t know what this pull to make her feel better means. I’ve never felt anything like it, even with Pandora. It’s different and it’s uncomfortable, and I want to carve it out of me before I’m past the point of no return. I don’t even try.

It’s too damn late for that, anyway.

Without thinking too hard about it, I start stripping. She closes her eyes and rests her head back on her knees. I shuck off my pants and step into the shower. There are no fewer than four showerheads going. I step beneath them and have to grit my teeth to keep a muttered curse from erupting. The water is scalding.

After a brief internal debate, I awkwardly slide down to the floor and lean against the wall next to her, stretching my legs out. Pandora would have the right words to tell Aphrodite it will all be okay. Adonis would know exactly what she needs to hear.

I’m not good with words. I’m sure as fuck not good with comfort.

But death is something I’ve become intimately familiar with.

I lean my head back against the tile. “The first time is the worst.”

Aphrodite slowly looks at me. Her skin has gone pink from the heat of the water, but she still looks too pale. “What?”

“The first time someone tries to kill you.” I inhale deeply, letting the steam warm me from the inside out. “It’s never fun. You don’t get used to it. But the shock lasts less each time.”

She blinks those big dark eyes at me. “When was your first?”

I don’t want to talk about this. I’m not sure why the fuck I thought it was a good idea to bring it up. But she’s focusing on me instead of the memory of earlier today, so I answer her honestly. “I was fourteen. One of the, ah, priests at our orphanage was showing too much interest in Pandora, so I told him to fuck off. He waited until everyone was asleep that day and then came to my room with a knife.”

She lifts her head a little. “He gave you one of those scars?”

“Yeah.” I touch the long, ragged one running diagonally across my stomach. “He almost gutted me.”

I brace for sympathy or pity or some kind of self-righteous bullshit about how no child should have to defend themselves from adults. It’s not how the world works, though, and I don’t have time for anyone who isn’t already aware of that.

“You killed him.”

I blink, half-sure I heard her wrong. “What?”

“You killed him.” Her smile isn’t anywhere near as sharp as usual. “Right?”

I had. I snapped his neck and then passed out from blood loss. I woke up on my fifteenth birthday in the hospital with Minos standing there, bathed in sunlight and looking larger than life. I still don’t know how the fuck he found out about it, but no authorities ever came around asking after the priest’s death, and by the time I was well enough to leave the hospital, Minos and I had come to an agreement.

When I checked out, I didn’t go back to the orphanage.

I went to Minos’s home, and Pandora came with me.

At the time, it seemed like a gift from the gods. Minos was a hard taskmaster, but he was fair, and I never had to worry about his gaze lingering too long on me or Pandora. That alone was worth the cost he demanded. “Yes. I killed him.”

“Good.” She closes her eyes. “It’s not the heroes who slay monsters. They’re too honorable. Always giving second chances and…” Her breathing goes jagged. “I have a brother. Another one. Younger. He’s a hero, and he almost got himself killed playing white knight. I’m glad he’s not here to see what Olympus has become. He wouldn’t survive it.”

I know about the younger brother. Hercules. A handsome fucker with bright eyes and the kind of shine that makes me want to dent it on principle. He’s nothing like his siblings, nothing like Aphrodite in particular. “Probably not.”

“I hate you.” She finally moves, inching back to lean against the wall at my side. Her shoulder touches mine and she kind of melts against me.

“I know.” After a slight hesitation, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tuck her more firmly against my side. She lets loose a tiny little sound that might be a sob. Neither of us comment on the way she shakes and presses her face to my shoulder.

I should be happy. This is part of Minos’s plan. Introducing the knowledge of the assassination clause to the Olympus population is key to destabilizing things and keeping the Thirteen more worried about their lives than about what Minos might be up to. He hasn’t explicitly said that he hopes the various murder attempts succeed, but clearly it would be to his benefit.

If Aphrodite dies, I will be free. No longer married to a woman I didn’t choose. No longer the laughingstock of this fucking city.

But the thought of this city without her in it isn’t one that brings me joy.

Instead, the thorny feeling in my chest tears deeper.