Shattered Gods (Dark Olympus, #10)(88)

Circe rolls her eyes theatrically. “Fine, then I suppose we could go with plan B.”

“I hate to even ask this.” Atalanta ruffles her hair. For all her protests, she’s clearly delighted by this turn of events. “What is plan B?”

“We systematically take everything they own and love, leaving them broken men.”

“The scope of what you’re talking about is years in the making. Even if we somehow managed to drain their accounts, half their money isn’t even money. It’s assets and rich people debt and other shit.” When we both look askance at Atalanta, she shrugs. “What? At least two of them were active trading partners with Olympus before the barrier fell, and an additional four are now in agreements with the new government. I looked into them.” She shakes her head. “Nasty business there.”

“I saw the reports,” I murmur. There were another dozen who had sought trade agreements, but the new delegates voted against working with them because of reports of poor working conditions for their employees and cutting corners in their product. I focus on Atalanta. “You’re considering this.”

“So are you.” She grins. “Come on, Hecate. It will be fun.”

“Yeah, Hecate.” Circe leans her head against Atalanta’s shoulder. “It will be fun.” She gives me innocent eyes. “Unless you want to settle down and be little wives in our suburban neighborhood. Have a few kids, join the PTO, bake cookies.”

I can’t stop the shudder that goes through me. I’m not opposed to kids…maybe. But that life? It’s one I thought I wanted, a peaceful existence as reward for all the heartache I—we—endured over the years. Instead, even being in this house makes it feel like the walls are closing in. No wonder Circe found the local organized-crime unit and took them out. She was bored.

Judging from the hopeful expression on Atalanta’s face, she wasn’t looking forward to this docile life any more than I was. It’s funny that we didn’t talk about it but were feeling the same. All three of us.

Everything goes light and giddy as I dramatically fling my hand out. “I suppose, since you’re both dead set on twisting my arm, that we could go ruin some rich white men’s lives. As a treat after Olympus.”

“We all deserve a little treat,” Atalanta manages to say with a straight face.

“Thank fuck.” Circe bounces on her toes and presses a kiss to Atalanta’s cheek and then ducks out from under her arm to wrestle off the apron. “I perfected cookies the first week and I’ve just been doing variations since then. The neighbors are happy to eat them, but I’m so fucking tired of the smell of vanilla. If you wanted to stay here, I’d end up opening a damned bakery like an absolute cliché.”

“Oh no. Not that.”

She snags Atalanta’s hand as she passes, towing her to me and then pulling me down for a kiss. “No need to unpack. My bags are in the hall closet. I have a plane booked.”

I raise my brows. “You were sure of us.”

“Of course I was.” She captures my hand as well, tugging us behind her as she walks backward through the living room. Circe looks happy, lighter than I’ve ever seen her. Hopeful. “Let’s go hunt some billionaires for sport.”

“Circe.”

“Fine, fine, we’ll just ruin their lives. Practically the same thing.” She pulls us to her, and we go happily. I wrap my arms around Circe and Atalanta, feeling whole for the first time in…ever. We have a task before us, nearly overwhelming in scope and ambition, and we have each other.

“I love you both so damned much.” I kiss Atalanta and then Circe. “So, so much.” I grin. “Let’s do this.”

This is what happily-ever-afters are made of.





Acknowledgments


Writing a ten-book series is no small endeavor. This one, in particular, is so fucking special to me. I sold Neon Gods (and the two following books) in a market where all publishers wanted was rom-coms. No one would touch a dark romance adjacent story remixing Hades and Persephone. I had been primarily independently publishing for a few years and figured that I write fast enough. I could afford to “lose” three books if the series didn’t do well. Which is a wild thing to write in hindsight.

Fast forward four years and here we are, delivering the final book to you, dear reader. I had hoped Hades and Persephone and all the others in Olympus would find a readership, but I never could have anticipated how y’all resonated with their story and the ones that came after. The only reason I’m even able to write a wildly long series like this is because you showed up for these books over and over and over again. My entire job is making words, and I don’t have any to describe how grateful I am for your continued support.

Back in 2019-ish, there was a charged conversation on Twitter (oh, ye olden days) where a reader asked me when I would write M/M and had a very negative reaction when I said I preferred sapphic romance because I love women. Because of you, dear reader, most of my series end with a romance featuring my favorite character in the series, and, most of the time, those romances are sapphic. Spite is a hell of a thing, but I think we can agree we all win as a result. If you disagree? Well…keep an eye out in the next series for your favorite character. I bet she loves women a WHOLE LOT.

We never write in a vacuum, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the influences in my writing. If you see hints of Melisande and Phédre in Circe and Hermes, well…Kushiel’s Dart imprinted on me in my formative years, and if I can never quite write something that sprawling and ambitious, I honor my love for that series in my own ways. My Hermes is inspired by the renditions of Hermes in Hadestown, Circe, and Epic—a little cruel, a little silly, and deeply empathetic even if she won’t let it change her plans. Olympus was always going to fall, but the way it crumbled is deeply inspired by the contemplations I had after reading Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao, Blood over Bright Haven by M. L. Wang, and Metal from Heaven by August Clarke. I won’t pretend I did anything nearly as ambitious and amazing as these authors, but they gave me so much to chew on that I’ll be thinking about their books for years.