10 Ariadne

10

Ariadne

The computer Hera provided is more than sufficient to meet my needs. It took about an hour to get it set up to my specifications, and then I spent another hour checking on the various forums to see if anything new has popped up since I've been offline. It's been remarkably quiet. There's something big stirring in Europe and a handful of revolutions across the globe, but it's startlingly silent when it comes to what's going on here.

Part of that is because Olympus operates on its own server, of sorts. With a barrier keeping it walled away, it's reached almost mythological status to the rest of the world. They know it exists, but it's not real to them. Not like it was on Aeaea.

I reassure a few of my online friends that I am, in fact, still alive. It's tempting to sink into that, to catch up with them, to check the fan fiction sites that I spend so much time on, to do anything except my task.

I'm all but assured to be walking into a trap tomorrow. The question is why bother to set a trap to begin with? It's not Asterion's style. He prefers blunt honesty, sometimes to the point of cruelty, so one never wonders where they stand with him. He was right yesterday—if he wants me dead, he has no reason to play the long game. He could've just done it.

He's only disobeyed one of my father's orders. Because of me. I'd be a fool to believe he'd disobey a second time. Any fondness he holds for me will have burned up with my betrayal.

But Hera wants him to have those blueprints, which leaves me little choice.

If she wanted to make this easy on me, she could've accessed the information on her own instead of sending me on this wild-goose chase. "But that might get her perfectly manicured hands dirty. We can't have that," I mutter under my breath as I get to work.

The cybersecurity in Olympus isn't terrible, but it's somewhat out of date. These days, hacking technology advances almost faster than the defense can keep up. Good for me. Bad for them. I suppose they haven't had to worry about it much since the most interest they get is from conspiracy theorists wanting to prove they don't exist…or that they do.

I barely register the time passing and the light changing in the room. It's not until the front door shuts softly that I snap out of it. I close the laptop just as Dionysus walks into the room. He doesn't appear to have slept since I saw him last, but there's a bounce in his step and he's humming under his breath.

He stops short when he sees me. "Oh. You're here."

"I…do live here now."

"Right. I kind of forgot." He drags his hand through his thick dark hair. "I have some things I need to take care of this evening, but how about brunch tomorrow?"

I blink. "Brunch?"

It's hard to tell, but I think he might be blushing. "Yes, well, I'm almost never awake in time for a proper breakfast, so brunch is the way to go. Plus, brunch comes with a flight of mimosas and the best food money can buy."

If I didn't know better, I might think he's nervous. It's such a strange experience that I almost don't recognize it. Very few people even notice me, let alone consider me someone worthy of being nervous around. I don't know if I like it.

But he's making an effort, so I can too. I try for a smile. "Brunch sounds lovely."

"Oh. Great. See you then." He hurries out of the living room without another word.

It's not a good idea for me to do sensitive work while he's in the apartment, so I use this as an excuse to log on to my favorite fan fiction site and read the most recent update from one of my favorite authors. They write the most deliciously angsty hurt/comfort, and they branched out into fandoms that aren't mine, but I still read every fic they write. This one is absolutely agonizing, and I soak up every feeling.

About an hour later, Dionysus reappears. He's changed into a mustard-yellow suit with a floral-printed vest and shirt of the same color beneath it. It's downright outrageous, but he manages to pull it off, just like he pulls off everything he wears. He's obviously showered and combed his hair, and his mustache is looking particularly perky. This time, he doesn't jump when he sees me. "Feel free to order yourself food or whatever you need. One of my people in the lobby will bring it up to you. After the…incident…the other night, the service elevator is locked down, and I've focused my people on the perimeter rather than having two stationed up here at the door. It's best you don't leave after dark, but if you need to, just let someone know, and some of my security folks will go with you."

In other circumstances, I would appreciate that he's not trying to box me into a corner. He's obviously as uncomfortable with the situation as I am. Unfortunately, the first thing I'm going to do once he leaves is betray him. It kind of sours the whole experience of him trying to make me feel welcome.

Still, I attempt a smile. At least no more of his people will die because of me. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"It's the literal least I can do." He edges toward the door. "We'll talk in the morning."

"At brunch."

"Yep, at brunch. Good night, Ariadne."

I wait to hear the front door close, and then I wait several more minutes before I pull up the program I was working through. The address Asterion gave me isn't particularly far from here, but I'll have to take precautions so no one is aware I've left the building. A quick check of the security cameras shows they're not on a closed network. It's child's play to schedule a loop for the time when I intend to leave. I'll need to program another one for when I get back, but that's a little bit harder to gauge. If I miss the window, my return will be in plain sight.

To distract myself from all the things that could go wrong, I finish crafting the back door into Dodona Tower's network. It's incredibly tempting to nose around in other files, but I force myself to keep on task. It's only thirty minutes later that I realize I messed up. The blueprints are nowhere to be found, which means they're probably filed at a completely different location. "Fuck."

I look at the clock and curse even harder. I have less than an hour to get out of here and make my way to the apartment. Not enough time to hack an entirely new system. This was a foolish mistake, and one I wouldn't have made if I wasn't so stressed out. Unfortunately, I don't think Asterion is going to be sympathetic. Or Hera, for that matter, but Asterion is currently the larger threat.

I hold my breath and dial the number he called me from yesterday. He makes me wait several long rings before he answers. "You better be calling to tell me you're on your way."

"I fucked up." Desperation makes my voice harsh. "I spent all day hacking into Dodona Tower, when I should've been hacking into the Olympus clerk's records. I don't have the blueprints. If you give me another day—"

"Ariadne." He waits for me to stutter to a stop before he continues. "You have the address. You have the time. I expect you to be there." He hangs up.

I stare at my phone. That motherfucker just hung up on me. I immediately call back, but he doesn't answer. His voicemail is the generic one that comes with the phone, and it's everything I can do not to curse it out. He knows me well enough to anticipate that I could probably argue my way out of this if given half a chance—so he's not giving me a chance. Damn it.

I could just not show up. But if I don't, he's likely to follow through on the threat to come to me. The thought makes my stomach do strange things that I refuse to examine. I stand and stretch and have a weak moment where I consider changing into more flattering clothing. Fuck that. He's forcing me to come to him, so he gets what he gets. I throw my hair up into a ponytail and pull on my boots. I only packed a light jacket, and it does little against the chill of the night air when I finally make my escape.

Even with Dionysus's extra security, it's pathetically easy. Once the cameras are on a loop, I just take the elevator to the second floor, descend the stairs to the first, and take a side door out to the street. Between my escape and Asterion's attack, Dionysus should fire his entire security team and start over from the ground up.

I've been in Olympus long enough to note the changes that my father's plans have brought. When we first arrived, there was a boisterous nightlife in the center of the upper city. Even on weekdays, from my window I could hear people partying and giggling and chatting as they walked down the street in groups. These days, people seem to retreat to the relative safety of their homes with the setting of the sun. Even the streets seem colder in a way that has nothing to do with the coming winter. The few people I see out walk with their heads down and shoulders hunched as if bracing against a freezing gale-force wind.

It's…eerie. I don't have another word for it. I haven't traveled much—my father has always kept me close at hand—but I've never seen a city voluntarily locked down like this. It makes my skin crawl.

It takes longer than expected for the car I call to arrive, and by the time I show up to Asterion's address, I'm ten minutes late. I pull the thin coat tighter around me and press the buzzer for the appropriate apartment. Asterion doesn't answer, but a few seconds later, the door clicks open. There's nothing to do but go up.

I'd like to pretend Hera is invested enough in my safety to ensure I leave this place alive tonight, but I know better. I'm only one small component, and I failed in my task today. She's obviously playing a deeper game, and she's not going to show her cards before she's ready.

I'm on my own.

The apartment door is unlocked, and I step inside to find a room bathed in shadows. This isn't a building I've been to before. My father keeps two apartments in a building a few blocks away. I wonder if he's aware Asterion has another residence. I suppose it doesn't matter. "Hello?"

No answer.

I frown and take several steps into the living room. It's not like Asterion to play games. "Asterion?"

Large hands come down on my hips, planting me in place even as I startle and shriek. He jerks me back against his body and then his rumbling voice is in my ear. "You don't have the blueprints."

I open my mouth to speak, but the feel of him overwhelms me. It's been months since that day in the maze. Months since he touched me even in passing. This isn't incidental; he's plastered against my back with his lips brushing my ear. Gods help me, but I close my eyes and melt against him.

I missed him.

No. Damn it, no . This man is under orders to kill me. Nothing he feels for me will be enough to stop him from following those orders. "Let go," I manage. Barely. "If you're going to…hurt me…the least you can do is look me in the face when you do."

"Ariadne." He says my name roughly, as if it's a curse. As if I'm the curse. "You were put on this earth to drive me out of my mind."

He still hasn't let me go. I should step away. I need to. Asterion might not be hurting me right now, but he's going to. I failed to bring him the blueprints. More than that, I left him. Betrayed him.

I start to lean forward, but his grip tightens on me. Still not hurting me, although I almost wish he would. It would make it easier to think. He's so damn warm , chasing away the chill of the night, the fear that seems to plague my every step. It's absurd that I should find comfort in his touch, but my body isn't on the same page as my mind. I clear my throat. "You killed those guards."

"Yeah."

"You were ordered to kill me, too."

"Mmm."

Is that agreement? I can't tell. I need to see his face to be sure.

"Asterion, you need to let me go." The sentence has so many layers. I'm not even sure if I mean right now or in a larger sense.

One of his hands moves to my stomach, holding me against him. The other trails up to cup one of my breasts. "Tell me to stop."

It's the same thing he said to me all those weeks ago. Suddenly, I can't bring myself to speak, but it's not the same thing, is it? I'm not telling him yes. I'm simply not telling him no. That small, reasonable voice inside me is shrieking in dismay, is trying to remind me what happened the last time we went down this path.

Maybe it's grief that takes the wheel now. Maybe this is the only way I know how to process the complicated emotions that have arisen after the events of the last couple weeks. Maybe I simply want to take something for myself in this world that demands everything of me.

I don't tell Asterion to stop. Instead, I lick my lips. "Do you have a condom?"