Instead, he keeps sneaking glances at me throughout dinner as if he feels fortunate to share a meal with me.
It’s fake. I know it’s fake. One doesn’t grow up within this city without developing a boatload of coping mechanisms, chief among them learning to craft a public persona. This is Apollo’s. He doesn’t bother with it in the office unless he has meetings with certain people, and I’ve never been in public with him before. That’s all.
Still, it makes me feel strange.
Dinner is, of course, a masterpiece in culinary arts. My meal is nearly better than sex—or at least the sex I’ve been having for the last couple years. I can’t help moaning a little bit with each bite. And the expensive wine he chose pairs so well…
This is how it could have been.
I shut the thought down. It’s a little more difficult to do than normal, probably due to the amazing food. It’s almost worth getting gawked at by everyone around us, most of whom are not even trying to be subtle. I even catch the lady above us snapping a picture with her phone. Classy. No food, no matter how mind-blowing, is worth living like this. Still, it’s not a terrible evening.
And then the show starts.
The lights dim so slowly, I almost don’t notice it. Not until it’s dark enough that I’m left blinking at my plate. “This food is going to end up all over my dress.”
Apollo’s low chuckle makes my body go tight. It vividly reminds me of how he looked at me outside the restaurant, his dark eyes hot. It was…desire. I’m almost sure of it. Except even as I remember the expression on his face, my brain offers up half a dozen different alternatives that make more sense than Apollo wanting me.
I’m no slouch, but I’m hardly Ares or Aphrodite.
“Cassandra.” He leans in, his voice low and intimate. “You’re thinking so hard, you’re going to miss the show.”
My gaze tracks to the center stage, now being lit by a watery mix of blue and green and pale, pleasing light. The stage itself is maybe six inches taller than our table, but it’s empty. I glance at Apollo, only to find his face far too close to mine. I don’t jerk back, but it’s a near thing. He smiles and tips his chin upward.
I follow the motion…and gasp.
Above us, a naiad swims through the air. Oh, my brain is already picking apart the magic of the moment, pinpointing the wires attached to a clever harness on her hips and tail that keeps her aloft. But it doesn’t change the fact that with the light and her sinuous movement, she appears to be swimming as she slowly descends from the darkness of the ceiling toward the platform.
A second naiad joins her in the air. They spiral and seem to dance together, and I can’t quite figure out how they don’t end up entangled in each other’s wires, but it’s so beautiful, I don’t care about the logistics. The show ends far too soon, and I press my hands to my thighs, forcing down an instinctive reaction to turn to Apollo and ask when we can do this again.
We won’t have the chance to. This is our public fake date to convince people it’s not strange for us to show up at a weeklong party together. There will be no second dates, no return trips to the Dryad.
I find it best not to want things that aren’t meant for me, but it’s still a strangely bitter pill to swallow. I take a slow breath, and then another. When I turn back to Apollo, he’s watching me instead of the retreating naiads. “What?” I press my hand to my face. “Do I have something in my teeth?”
“No.” He doesn’t elaborate, though. He simply picks up a small menu that wasn’t on our table at the start of the show. “Dessert?”
I hesitate and then curse myself for hesitating. I made a big show of putting him in his place at the beginning of this, and now I’m going to let insecurity deprive me of the chocolate cake I saw delivered to a nearby table before the show? No. Absolutely not.
I lift my chin. “Yes, please.”
“Apollo!” The boisterous call comes from the stairs, where a large man with light-brown skin and a head full of striking gray hair is making his way down to us. Even without Apollo murmuring in my ear, I recognize Minos. He’s been all over the gossip sites in the last two weeks. He’s an attractive man in a brutal sort of way. I saw how the Minotaur wielded that giant sword in the competition for Ares. I bet he learned the skill from his foster father. Minos moves the same way Athena, Ares, and Zeus do: like he’s got combat training.
He finally reaches our table and gives a charming smile. “Quite the show, wasn’t it?”
“Pan offers premier entertainment,” Apollo says neutrally. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Very much so.” Minos glances up into the darkness of the ceiling. “I’d pay good money to know how they pulled it off without crashing into each other.”
It’s nothing more than I already thought, and he hadn’t done anything wrong during this short interaction, but something about this man raises the small hairs on the back of my neck. As far as I know, we haven’t confirmed him as an enemy of Olympus, so it might just be that he reminds me a bit of the last Zeus with his boisterous charm and steamrolling attitude. It might be…but I’ve survived this long by trusting my instincts and they’re saying this man is dangerous.
Of course he is. Everyone in Olympus with a smidge of power is dangerous. Minos has gathered more than a smidge since he arrived and started making waves.
He turns back to us with an easy chuckle. “I hear you’ll be bringing a guest to the party next week.” He focuses on me for what appears to be the first time since he arrived at our table. It’s not quite a lecherous look, but there’s interest in his dark eyes that sets my teeth on edge. “Pretty thing, aren’t you? I didn’t know you were dating anyone, Apollo.”
“Minos.” Apollo’s voice doesn’t go tight, but he places his hand on my thigh. Just like that, I’m not thinking about Minos at all. My brain kind of…blips. Apollo keeps speaking as if he’s not branding me right through the thin fabric of my dress. “This is my girlfriend, Cassandra. Our relationship is a recent development we kept under wraps for obvious reasons. You’ve tasted what the gossip sites are like in the city.”
Minos grins. “Relentless.”
“Exactly. Cassandra, this is our newest Olympian, Minos. He’s…not from around here.”
Minos booms out a laugh. “Not by a long shot.” He holds out a broad hand. “Nice to meet you, Cassandra.”
I gingerly place my hand in his, trying not to tense when he brushes a perfectly polite kiss to my knuckles. Pan did the same thing when we came into the restaurant, but it didn’t give me the same reaction. His flirting felt harmless.
There’s nothing harmless about Minos.
He releases my hand and turns that charming smile on Apollo. “Look forward to seeing you at the party.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.”
Minos heads for the stairs and ascends to the third level, returning to an empty seat at a large table. I can see it from my position without craning my neck. I recognize Theseus and the Minotaur—what kind of name is that, anyway? There are another three people at the table, but they’re sitting too far back in the shadows to get a good look. “Does Minos have a wife? Other children?” I don’t think his foster sons have wives. If they do, they’ve kept the women out of the public eye since arriving because while both men have been photographed a number of times in the last few weeks, they’ve never been seen with anyone.