Shattered Gods (Dark Olympus, #10)(42)

I hold my breath as I pass through. It prickles against my skin in a sensation that’s almost unpleasant, but it’s over quickly enough. The person who grabbed me releases me instantly and takes a step back. “Atalanta.”

“That’s me.” I can’t help glancing back at the barrier. It’s not opaque, but there’s a film between us and the crowd. I’ve never been more grateful for a damned Olympian barrier than I am in this moment. “I have news.”

“They’re expecting you at the main house.” They jerk their thumb over their shoulder. “There’s a car waiting for you. Don’t try to go anywhere else.”

“I won’t.” It’s almost like déjà vu to climb behind the wheel of yet another black sedan, to drive the same path, to park the car in nearly the same spot, to walk to the front door and be escorted to the same office where nearly the same combination of people waits for me—except for Eurydice. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one. At least I’m here.

Hades steeples his hands. “Do you need medical attention?”

“No.” Dio’s doctor stitched me up fine. There’s a solid risk I’ll tear the stitches at some point, but I don’t need to go through the song and dance with a new doctor. In fact, I’d rather not. “Are you ready to listen?”

Persephone and Hera sit together, pressed close to each other, for all that their expressions are fierce. Persephone lifts her chin. “My mother and sister? And…Eros?”

Guilt pricks me in a thousand tiny cuts. “Eros is gone. I’m sorry.” I clear my throat. “I don’t know the exact location of your mother and sister, but they were safe the last I heard.”

Persephone closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, she seems to draw herself up. “We need them in the lower city, Hades. Now.”

“Psyche has an open invitation. Your mother…” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, little siren, but we can’t endanger our people on the hope that Demeter will choose her daughters over her bid for power. I want to believe she will, but all her actions point to the contrary.”

“Our mother didn’t anticipate Circe wanting me dead,” Hera says slowly. “But even if she had a plan to counter Circe, this has spun too far out of control. He’s right, Persephone. I hate that he’s right, but he is.”

“But…” She seems to wilt, just a tiny bit. “She’s our mother.”

Hera glances at me and any warmth disappears from her hazel eyes. “We’ll talk about it after Atalanta gives the report she was willing to return to the lower city to convey. Brave or foolish, there’s only one way to find out.”

“A little bit of both.” I recount a severely edited version of what happened and what I know, leaving out anything involving Hermes and Circe’s history—and not-so-history. In the end, it’s not that much information after all. Except for one thing. “I know you’re aware of Circe’s team in the lower city. No matter what threats they’ve put out against Persephone, that’s not their main goal. They’re not here to pick off the Thirteen and legacy families. They’re here to bring down the barrier.”

Hades stares at me, and I can practically see the wheels of his mind spinning. “You could have given us this information on a phone call.”

“Yes, I could have.” It takes effort to keep my shoulders straight, to look just over his shoulder instead of meeting his dark eyes that see too much. “There’s nothing for me in the upper city.”

A beat of silence that might be awkward, but I can’t focus enough to know for sure. Finally, Hades says, “Thank you for the report, Atalanta. I think you’ll understand I can’t have you wandering the lower city, but as long as you agree to stay in the house, I’m happy to set you up with a room and have my doctor look you over. Wait in the hall and one of my people will see to it.”

I want to find an excuse to stay, to find out what he’s planning. He’s too smart to send people rushing to the location of the machinery keeping the barrier running. He must know where it is, though, right? Most of the Thirteen weren’t aware of how the larger barrier worked, but the person who held the Hephaestus title always had a small team working on its maintenance in perfect secrecy. Surely Hades is the same if he was able to raise his barrier so quickly in response to the attacks.

Athena rises. “No need to trouble your people. I’ll take Atalanta to the spare room next to mine. Don’t wait for me; I’ll catch up when I return.”

Tension flows through me as I follow her to the door and along the hallway. I couldn’t take Athena even at full health, without a stab wound in my shoulder. I sure as fuck can’t take her now. If the offer of hospitality was a fake out and she intends to make me disappear, I might not be able to win that fight, but I’ll damn sure make her work for it. I clear my throat. “No matter what you think of me, I only ever wanted the best for the people of Olympus. Everything I said in that office was true.”

“I know. It was a very good report.” She closes the door and leans against it. “Now, I want you to tell me all the things you very carefully left out.”





17

Hecate




Atalanta and I have worked separately more often than we’ve worked together over the years. We couldn’t afford people to link us up publicly, so when we carved out time to spend together, it was in secret. I learned to know the shape of her absence, to worry it like a missing tooth when I got to missing her. This is so much worse. Our argument feels like a period instead of a comma, the end of something I never got the chance to explore properly.