9

9

Cassandra

By the time we reach the house, I’m about ready to throw myself from the car. It’s not that things got awkward with Apollo. He keeps looking at me with that strange expression on his face, but he’s maintained a steady flow of easy conversation.

Still, I can tell it bothers him that he doesn’t have all the information. Not on Minos. Not even on the house we’re going to be spending seven days in. It makes me feel the irrational urge to comfort him. What a laughable impulse. Apollo doesn’t need my comfort. No matter the setbacks, he’ll get to the bottom of this and find answers. It’s what he does. He might even end up enjoying the challenge.

The house is, of course, sprawling and beautiful. It creates an upside-down U shape that frames the circular drive. We’re not the only car pulling up, and I catch sight of Hermes herself bouncing from the car in front of us, followed by an exhausted-looking Dionysus. They make quite the pair. She’s a short Black woman with dark-brown skin and tight dark curls wearing bright-pink pants that sparkle in the sunlight and a teal graphic T-shirt that I can’t read from here. Dionysus, on the other hand, is a white man with mussed dark hair, a truly outstanding mustache, and a penchant for dressing like he stepped out of another time. Today it’s slacks, suspenders, and a dark printed button-down shirt beneath a vest.

I still like Hermes. First because she’s one of the few people in the upper city who know what my parents did and didn’t treat me like I’m carrying around a knife and just waiting to finish the job they started, and second because I truly enjoy being around her. Our relationship flared bright and hot, but we quickly realized it wasn’t meant to be. I’ll never willingly tie myself to a member of the Thirteen, and I highly suspect Hermes gave her heart to someone a long time ago and no one else can compare. These days, we’re friends and that suits us both.

Apollo waits until Hermes loops an arm through Dionysus’s and tows him into the house before he opens the door and steps out of the car. He catches my questioning look. “We have to deal with her eventually, but there’s no reason to rush it.”

I should probably tell Apollo that she’s my ex, but the words keep sticking in my throat. Surely it doesn’t matter? I accept his hand even though I’m more than capable of climbing out of the car without help. For the act, of course. Not because I like the way his fingers curl around mine. To distract myself, I say, “You really don’t like Hermes, do you?”

“She’s fine.”

His clipped tone gives him away. I frown at him. “Is it you don’t like her? Or that you’re quietly furious that she’s dodged any of your attempts to get more information on her?”

Apollo shoots me a sharp look. “I don’t like mysteries.”

I bet. “Has she broken into your house?”

His jaw goes tight. “Several times. I still can’t figure out how she gets in.”

That must irritate him to no end. He really does hate mysteries. Without thinking, I pat his chest. “Poor Apollo. That must bother you so much.”

He glances down to where my fingers still rest lightly against his chest. When he speaks again, his voice has deepened. “I’ll get over it.”

“Welcome!”

I drop my hand guiltily and spin to face the woman approaching us. She’s about my age, I think. About my size, too, and wearing a perfectly tailored blouse and shorts. She moves with an easy grace that reeks of some kind of expensive finishing school; no one moves like they’re floating naturally.

The woman must be Minos’s daughter, but she doesn’t look like him at all aside from her coloring. Her light-brown skin is an identical tone, though her hair is a deep black and falls in a straight line past her shoulders.

She smiles at us, the expression lighting up her dark eyes. Being on the receiving end of that smile makes my spine straighten despite myself. I don’t have a type. I’m not one to narrow my options, even if I don’t date much as a general rule. But this woman is pretty. Very, very pretty.

I can’t help glancing at Apollo to see his reaction. Apparently he had the same idea because our gazes meet fleetingly before we turn back to her. He steps forward and offers a hand. “I’m Apollo. This is my girlfriend, Cassandra.”

“I know.” Her smile widens. She looks so happy. Surely she’s faking it, but I don’t detect a hint of artifice in her. “I’m Ariadne. My brother, Icarus, and I are seeing to the sleeping arrangements. We have your room ready.”

He has his children doing the initial entertaining. It’s not shocking. After the encounter with Theseus in Apollo’s office and watching the Minotaur during the competition for Ares, I don’t expect either of them excel at playing nice. Not like Ariadne apparently does. I can’t help wondering if Icarus takes after his sister or his foster brothers.

Apollo smiles down at her. “That sounds wonderful.”

She turns and leads us through the front doors into an echoing entranceway. It looks like something out of a movie with two staircases circling the space opposite the front door to meet overhead. I knew Hermes had a sense of the theatrical, but this looks like a cross between a Gothic mansion and some hideously expensive southern manor.

Ariadne heads up the stairs, leaving us to trail behind. The archway at the top of the stairs flows into a wide hallway. She motions at the doors studding the walls all the way down. “These are converted rooms. They’re essentially sitting rooms and will be open to whoever wants to use them throughout the day.”

I raise my brows. “How many people are coming to this party that you need half a dozen sitting rooms?”

She tucks her hair behind her ears. “They were, ah, used for a different kind of entertaining purpose by the last owner, and my father decided sitting rooms were a more appropriate conversion.”

A different kind of entertainment.

I look at the doors with new interest. Hermes’s sexual tastes are just as eclectic as her fashion. She’s kinky as fuck and a regular in the lower city where it’s rumored that Hades has an honest-to-gods sex club, though she never took me there when we were dating, understandable considering Hades was supposed to be a myth at that point. Another of the secrets she kept close to her chest.

Still… Six rooms?

“I see,” Apollo says faintly. I can’t tell if he’s actually surprised or scandalized or if this is information he already had filed away in that impressive brain of his.

“Dinner will be at seven tonight. Papa has a party game planned afterward.” Ariadne shoots us a sweet smile. “There’s an agenda in your room with details for the week. Dinner and lunch have scheduled times, but please feel free to have breakfast sent to your room. If you prefer to dine downstairs, there will be a small buffet available.”

I make a show of looking around as we reach a T in the hallway and take a right. “I don’t suppose there’s a map with that agenda.”

“No need.” Another sweet smile. Is this woman for real? “Just follow this hallway back to the entranceway, go downstairs, and everything is a straight shot to the main area downstairs.”

A straight shot doesn’t sound very Hermes. This house holds some tricks up its sleeve. I’m sure of it. The only question is whether Minos and his people know it or if Hermes kept those secrets to herself. I’d bet good money on the latter.

Ariadne opens a door halfway down the hall. “This is your room. Please make yourself comfortable and feel free to explore before dinner if you’re so inclined. The gardens are particularly lovely.”

I step inside first. I’m vaguely aware of Apollo following me into the room and shutting the door behind him, but the only thing I can focus on is the oversize bed. I had foolishly thought this might be a full suite, but while there’s a bathroom through the open door visible from my position, the only other furniture in the room is an antique-looking dresser and a pair of matching nightstands on either side of the bed.

Fuck.

I knew this was coming, of course. I just didn’t expect to freeze up at the reality of it. “Um.” Damn it, I can do better than that. I clear my throat. “About tonight, when we go to bed—”

“Hold that thought.” He narrows his eyes and motions toward the bed. “Sit and be silent. Please.”

I jerk back, a sharp reply on my lips, before my brain kicks into gear and makes the jump to what’s going on. He’s not telling me to be quiet. He wants to sweep the room for surveillance. I sit primly on the edge of the bed and watch him dig through his duffel bag for a piece of electronics I don’t recognize. It’s strangely difficult to stay silent as he goes over every inch of the room. The device dings three times. Once in the mirror over the dresser. One in the lampshade on the nightstand, and one tucked cleverly into the doorjamb. A fourth additional one dings from the bathroom.

I make a face. “Ugh.”

“Not done. Checking for cameras.”

I shudder a little. Obviously being watched and listened to was something we’d talked about before this. I’m not surprised when he pulls a tiny camera from the molding at the top of the mirror, but I feel vaguely violated all the same. “Gross.”

“Yes.” He deposits it in the small pile on the dresser and brushes his hands together. “That’s everything. About what we expected. I have a device that Hector can use to hack the system, but I need to be closer to the control room, which means we need to prioritize finding it.”

“Consider it prioritized.”

“Agreed.” He nods. “About the sleeping arrangements…I’ll sleep on the floor.” Apollo hauls my suitcases to a spot near the dresser and sets his on the other side.

“But—”

“Don’t argue.” He doesn’t look at me. “I know you’re not going to insult me by suggesting I’d allow you to sleep on the floor while I take the bed. And no, we’re not going to switch off. I don’t care about being fair, so that agreement won’t work.”

A little forbidden thrill goes through me at his firm tone. Apollo almost never gets abrupt with me, and certainly never commanding. I can count on one hand how many times it’s happened in the past five years and still have fingers left over. Including just now.

He finally faces me, brows drawn in a forbidding line. The thrill inside me only gets stronger in response. He eyes me. “Do you concede?”

“I was going to suggest the bathtub. It’s got to be massive in a house like this.”

“Absolutely not. You are not sleeping anywhere but on that bed, Cassandra. Do I make myself clear?”

Yes, sir.

I clamp my mouth shut so fast, I bite my tongue, but I manage to keep the snarky reply internal. Under no circumstances will I be calling Apollo anything other than his name, and certainly not something in a tone so sexually suggestive.

No matter how melty it makes me feel. In fact, that melty sensation in my core is a very good reason to never admit how he affects me. Ever.

I belatedly realize he’s waiting for a response and clear my throat. “You’re being ridiculous.” I smooth my hands over my dress. “We’re both adults. It’s a big bed. There’s no reason we can’t share.”

His jaw goes slack. “Cassandra—”

“If you’re worried about me wandering in my sleep, I don’t. But there are more than enough pillows to put up a barrier between us to protect your virtue.” The words are a little sharper than I intend, but I don’t like the idea of him sleeping on the floor. I can control the meltiness. I’m not going to throw myself at my boss, no matter how good his fake kisses made me feel.

Apollo runs a hand through his short black hair. “I don’t want to put you in a position where you feel uncomfortable.” He grimaces. “Though I guess I can’t say that any longer because you’re here and I know you’d rather not be.”

There’s not much to say to that, but I can’t just not respond. “For what it’s worth, I know I’m safe with you. That was never the issue.” It’s just everything else that threatens to make this so messy. None of that is Apollo’s fault, though, and I can’t stand the thought of him blaming himself for my shitty attitude. He should know by now that it’s my default.

He gives a wan smile. “Well, with that out of the way, let’s get ready for dinner and see about finding that control room to deal with the cameras.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say faintly.