Everyone is very carefully not looking at me. They all think I’m paranoid and weak. Even Charon and Eurydice, who are handling this a thousand times better than I am. And why not? Neither of them have seen exactly what the elite in Olympus are capable of.
Is this how the Thirteen acted after they ordered my parents to be murdered?
Did they sit around and drink and laugh while Athena’s assassins chased my parents through the streets of downtown, ending in their fiery death?
It was a different Apollo who held the title during that time, but I can’t pretend that my Apollo would have made a different call. Not when his priorities are vividly clear. He will do anything to protect Olympus. Even if it compromises his personal morals. He knows what would happen to this city if information about the assassination clause got out. He wouldn’t relish sentencing my parents to death, but he’d do it to serve the greater good.
If it had been me in the library, bashed over the head and left to die on the floor? I can’t guarantee he’d do anything other than what he’s doing right now—chatting easily with Aphrodite. He might enjoy me, might care about me on some level, but he won’t put me before the city.
Expecting him to will only end in heartbreak.
I can’t breathe. Oh gods, I can’t do this.
Time moves strangely. On one hand, it feels like we just sat down for dinner when the staff is clearing away dessert and it’s over. I don’t eat anything. It’s taking every bit of willpower I have to sit still and not flee the room. Apollo shoots me a few looks, but Ariadne is seated next to us and he’s focusing on charming her.
It’s only as dinner ends that I realize we still have another of Minos’s godsdamned games to suffer through before we can escape.
Minos surprises me, though. He clears his throat. “I think, given the events of this afternoon, that it would be best if we postponed tonight’s entertainment. There will be an after-dinner drink served in the lounge, but it’s hardly mandatory.”
I grab Apollo’s arm as he starts to shift his chair back. “I can’t—” My voice comes out ragged, and I have to clear my throat and try again, quiet enough only he can hear. “Apollo, I can’t do more small talk. I’m going to start screaming and never stop.”
His dark brows draw together in concern and he gives a jerky nod. “Of course. I had no idea you were that distressed.”
I have no idea how you aren’t.
I don’t say it. It’s not fair. It’s not even his fault that we’re built so differently when it comes to this. If my parents had been successful, maybe I’d be just as blasé. Maybe.
Whatever he sees on my face has him frowning harder. “Let’s go back to the room.”
“Okay,” I whisper. I’m unraveling at the seams. I’m not built for this kind of thing. I thought Hermes was being dramatic when she said I was in danger.
I should have known better. She never gambles with those she cares about, even if she won’t step in to save them from themselves. I chose to stay.
I never expected to be dragged down memory lane, triggered by one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. My parents didn’t believe me that the Thirteen would never stand for them to trigger the assassination clause. The police didn’t believe me that the Thirteen murdered my parents. Now no one is believing me about the danger this party represents.
Am I doomed to repeat the same warnings, only to have to stand by and watch the people I care about be hurt?
25
Apollo
I’ve made a mistake. I didn’t realize Cassandra was so upset until the moment she said something. Instead of taking care of her, I was focused on the mystery of who attacked Pan. On speculating what motivations could possibly keep the others here after the attack. No matter how they acted, the Thirteen are not usually so foolhardy. And to the best of my knowledge, Charon never is. It speaks to their determination to get close to Minos that they are letting his plans override their normal levels of caution.
It’s enough to make me wonder if some of them know more about Minos and his connections to this enemy of Olympus than they’re saying.
I lead Cassandra back to our room and shut the door softly behind us. Guilt swarms me as I take her in. She’s shaking. “I’m sorry.”
“I…” She exhales. “I forget sometimes that you’re a completely different species from most people. You in the plural term. Not you specifically.”
I catch her hands. “Cassandra.” She’s paler than normal, drawn. “Let me—”
“You should go have a drink or two.” She gently extracts her hands from mine. “Ariadne is still down there, and if you can get her away from the group, you can give her a proper offer to get her to change sides.”
She’s not wrong. All through dinner, Ariadne was laughing a bit too hard and talking a bit too fast. She’s obviously scared, and I might be a monster for using her fear to Olympus’s gain, but it’s a lever I can pull to convince her to do what I want.
But it means leaving Cassandra alone, upset and vulnerable.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Apollo.” She gives a sad smile. “You don’t have to play the hero for me. I know Olympus is your great love and responsibility. Do your duty. I’ll lock the door.”
She’s right. I know she’s right, but now that we’re here and alone, the events of the afternoon come crashing back over me. I don’t know why someone would target Pan, but the attack could have just as easily been against Cassandra. She’s been threatened several times since arriving at this party.
If someone snuck up behind her, hit her before she could run…
The thought has me reaching for her. “Come here.”
“Apollo—”
“I’m not fucking leaving you, Cassandra. You can keep arguing or you can come here and let me hold you until we both feel better.”
It’s a testament to how rattled she is that she places her hand in mine and allows me to pull her close and wrap my arms around her. With her body pressed to mine, I can feel the little tremors working through her. Part of me still wants to insist she leave, but she’s made her choice and I’ll respect it.
I’ll also do my best to ensure she doesn’t pay a price staying.
But it’s neither here nor there tonight. I’ll do whatever I can to make her feel better. With anyone else, that would include wrapping her up and tucking her in until she falls asleep, but I’ve learned not to make assumptions with this woman. “What do you need from me?”
She gives a hoarse little laugh against my chest. “You’ll think the worst of me.”
“Cassandra, I could never think the worst of you.”
A long pause. I stroke her back as I wait her out. Finally, she fists her hands in the fabric of my shirt and mutters. “I need you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore.”
I freeze. “I—”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I realize it’s an unconventional choice.” She’s still speaking softly, still pressing her head to my chest so she doesn’t have to look at me. “But if you’re about to remind me that I don’t have to feel obligated to have sex with you, I will point out, once again, that the only power you have over me is what I choose to give you.”