Chapter 4

CHAPTER4

MEDUSA

Idon’t know what’s happening.

I came here with a plan but now that Calypso’s soft body is pressed against mine, I’m having a hard time thinking of anything but her. This is so far beyond wrong that I’m not sure there’s a word to describe it. The blindfold should make her less powerful, but it only seems to embolden her. She tugs me against her and, fool that I am, I allow it to happen.

She smells really good. Kind of flowery in a subtle way that entices instead of overpowering. Everything about this woman entices.

Her sheer robe didn’t cover much to begin with, and it’s pooled in the bend of her elbows now, leaving her all but naked. All but naked and pressed against me.

“We can’t.”

She slips her hand from my jaw to the back of my neck. “Please.” To anyone else, it might sound like she’s begging, but it feels more like a command. It’s everything I can do not to hit my knees as she gently guides me down, closer and closer to her face. To her lips. “Please, M. Just a little taste. No one will ever know.”

I’m still trying to dredge up a good protest when she kisses me. Her lips are just as soft as the rest of her and she wastes no time teasing my mouth open. Or maybe I open for her on first contact. My head is spinning so intensely, I can’t be sure. She tastes of red wine, but she somehow manages to make that a good thing.

I don’t mean to move. I have every intention of breaking the kiss and putting some much-needed distance between us. But somehow my hands are in her hair and I’m kissing her back. She makes a delicious little needy noise and yanks me against her so strongly that we stumble back against the dresser.

Gods, this is a mistake. I need to stop. I need to…

Something pricks my thigh.

I jerk back and look down to find a needle sticking out of my pants. “What…” The strength goes out of my limbs in a rush. “Fuck.”

Calypso catches me, though it’s a little awkward and I get a face-full of her breasts as she eases me to the ground to lean against her bed. “Sorry, love. All’s fair in love and war and all that.” She arranges my head so it’s tilted back against the corner of the bed and I can see her clearly.

“What is…” I can’t move. No matter what commands I send to my body, it remains loose and placid and absolutely worthless. It’s everything I can do to force the mumbled words past my lips. “Killed me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” She whisks the mask off her eyes and, gods, she’s even prettier up close. Her eyes are dark and intense and far too clever. “It’s just a light paralytic. You’ll be right as rain in about an hour.” She pulls the needle from my thigh and tosses it onto the dresser. “Just long enough for me to make my escape.”

She played me. Of course she played me. No one like her would ever be interested in someone like me, even in the best of circumstances, and my arriving at her apartment to murder her is hardly that. I can’t blame her for defending herself, but the implications of this fuckup are…a lot. “Fuck.”

Calypso disappears into her closet and comes back with a suitcase in tow. I watch helplessly as she dresses in jeans, an expensive-looking knitted sweater, and tall boots. Then she makes several trips back and forth from the closet, unloading a truly impressive amount of clothing into the suitcase. The bathroom is next, cosmetics and jewelry thrown with a startlingly lack of care.

She disappears for several long moments and comes back into the bedroom with a small black bag, which goes into the suitcase more gently than the rest. The whole packing has taken maybe ten minutes, but likely less.

“Ready for this,” I manage.

“When you’ve had a life like mine, you know the value in being ready to run at a moment’s notice. The thing with Odysseus was never going to last forever, but I didn’t expect the cowardly bastard to take out a hit on me.” She sets the suitcase by the door and returns to stand at my feet. That dark gaze coasts over me, lingering on my thighs, breasts, and finally my face, tracing my scars with her gaze. “You really are beautiful, Medusa.” She laughs when I startle. “Yes, I figured it out. It wasn’t particularly hard.”

“How?”

She ignores my question and leans down, propping one hand on the mattress next to my head. “You’re too honorable to be wasting your life as Athena’s knife hand.”

“Wha—?” Gods, my mouth won’t work properly. I can barely get the garbled question out.

“Tell them that I’m gone where they can’t reach me, and that I won’t be returning.” Her gaze drops to my mouth and I must be hallucinating, because I swear there’s genuine heat there. “But if you decide you want out, cross the River Styx and come find me. I think we could have some fun.” She brushes a light kiss to my lips.

Then she’s gone, her footsteps retreating and a door closing in the distance.

I just fucked up spectacularly.

I can’t believe I fell for the seduction routine. I can’t believe I’m still falling for it, because I can taste Calypso on my lips and there’s a not-insignificant part of me that wants to follow her right across the River Styx and into the lower city.

Athena would never sanction it. Not even to tie up this loose end. The lower city is traditionally the territory of Hades, except there hasn’t been a Hades among the Thirteen for something like thirty years. The last one died in a fire, and there was no heir. Or at least that’s how the story goes. It’s so far above my pay grade as to be laughable.

But, for whatever the reason, the rest of the Thirteen don’t cross the river and don’t meddle in lower city affairs. If Calypso truly intends that as her destination, she’s effectively beyond Athena’s reach.

It means I’ve failed.

I close my eyes and sit with the conflicting feelings that brings. I knew from the start that killing Calypso felt wrong; I wouldn’t have hesitated otherwise. I certainly haven’t in the past, even when the deaths at my hands began to feel like a weight too heavy to bear.

I’m…relieved.

By the time I’m able to wiggle my fingers and then, a short while later, struggle to my feet, I have no answers. The temptation to follow Calypso is strong, but it’s just as foolish as the impulse to kiss her earlier was. I don’t fault her for using all the tools at her disposal to ensure her survival, but I’m not naive enough to believe the offer was genuine.

I sigh and dig my phone out of my pocket. There’s no help for it. I have to report in. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. When I dial Athena, I almost feel like myself again. Almost.

She answers on the first ring. “What the fuck happened, Medusa?”

I keep my tone even. “She was gone when I got here. It looks like something tipped her off because she packed her things and she’s gone.” A lie, but I am not telling Athena what really happened.

“Gone, and with all of Odysseus’s money in the mix.”

Clever woman. I find myself smiling and have to concentrate to wipe the expression from my face for fear that it will be apparent in my tone. “That’s a shame. How did she access his accounts?”

“That’s not important.”

Which means that this, too, is Odysseus’s arrogance coming back to bite him in the ass. I bet he gave her a debit card or something, never once assuming that she could use it against him. She’s working fast, too. She must have someone at the bank, because clearing him out isn’t something she can manage at an ATM.

Athena pushes forward before I can figure out if I’m supposed to respond or not. “Find her, Medusa. Retrieve his money and remove her.”

I turn to the large windows overlooking the center of the upper city and frown. I can’t exactly explain that I know Calypso’s plan, but maybe… “She’s too smart to stay in the upper city if she’s cleaned him out. She’ll cross the river into the lower city.”

“Normally that would be enough, but these are special circumstances. Go after her, but do it carefully.”

I straighten. Maybe I should have anticipated this, but I’m honestly surprised. “We’ve never chased someone across the river before.”

“I’m aware.” Her tone doesn’t invite further challenges to the order. “Get it done.” She hangs up without another word.

I stare at my phone for a long moment. This felt bad before, but now the weight of Athena’s order threatens to crush me. Calypso was clever and ruthless and she could have easily killed me instead of just paralyzing me. She spared me, flirted with me, and made an escape that should have been enough to secure her freedom.

“Why did you steal from him?” Even as I voice the question, I suspect I know the answer. She wanted to make him hurt even a fraction of the way he’d made her hurt. Even if she was as practical about the whole mistress thing as she seemed, I didn’t imagine the shock she experienced when she discovered it was Odysseus responsible for my being in her apartment with murderous intent.

She wanted revenge, and I can’t blame her for it.

This is wrong.

I press my hands to either side of my head and curse. I owe Athena everything. I don’t always understand her motivations or her actions, but when push came to shove, she had my back. Ignoring this order, failing to do as she commands, means spitting in the face of everything she’s done for me. She took me in, she taught me the skills I needed to survive, and she’s ensured I’ve wanted for nothing in the intervening years. More than that, she’s ensured I’ve never had to deal with the Thirteen again after that disastrous experience with Poseidon.

What is a beautiful, selfish woman like Calypso compared to all that history?

The thought feels strangely like a betrayal, but I shove that awful sensation down deep. I wavered before and look what happened. I can’t afford to do it again. I know where Calypso is going; she practically invited me to chase her. Granted, she had a different outcome in mind, but I’ll do what I have to.

And if watching the life fade from her pretty eyes tips me over the edge?

Well, that’s the price I’ll pay for safety.