“For most people. With me, it’s practically my love language.” She uses the skillet to flip what appears to be a passable omelet. “Speaking of love languages, imagine my surprise to see that devastatingly romantic picture of you and Psyche on her social media.” She shoots me a brilliant grin. “Congrats to the happy couple. I’ll officiate the wedding, of course.”
That takes one task off my list, but I know Hermes too well to accept this gift without looking for barbs attached. “Why?”
“The Dimitriou ladies are so interesting, don’t you think? When they first arrived on the scene, I thought they were like the other boring social climbers, but I’ve changed my mind. I think they’re going to turn Olympus itself on its head.”
I don’t know if that’s a terrifying thought or a welcome one. I glance back down the hall, but my bedroom door is still shut. “I changed my mind about killing her. This is the only option.”
“Careful, darling, or I might think you’ve developed a nasty condition called a conscience.” She pulls a plate out of my cupboard and slides the omelet onto it.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” It has nothing to do with a conscience and everything to do with taking what I want. I want Psyche, have wanted her since she took care of me in that bathroom in Dodona Tower. I can’t have her if she’s dead. That’s all.
Hermes sits on my counter and starts eating the omelet. “You’ll need two witnesses. Her sisters won’t do it.”
“You seem rather sure of it.” I am, too, but I’m curious enough to keep Hermes talking.
She takes a bite and makes a face. “Too much prosciutto. Ugh.” She chews slowly enough to try my patience. “They’ll be too busy looking for an opportunity to get her away from you. You’ll have to find your witnesses yourself. I don’t suppose your mother is in a generous mood?”
I give her the look that statement deserves. “I’m going to ask Helen and Eris.”
Hermes freezes and then bursts out laughing. “The balls on you, Eros. Gods, it’s a shame you make a better friend than a romantic partner—and that’s not saying much because you’re a shitty friend. But life with you would never be boring.”
I don’t bother to argue about my being a shitty friend. I am, and we both know it. “It’s a good play.”
“Oh, undoubtedly. Not even Zeus can argue against the marriage if his sisters stand as witness.” She grins. “I’ll bet you a grand they say no.”
“I’ll take that bet.” I motion at the door. “Now get out. I have calls to make, and you need to find a suit or something to wear tonight because this getup isn’t fit for the occasion. For fuck’s sake, Hermes. Christmas was nearly two months ago.”
“Christmas is a state of mind.” But she hops off the counter and pushes her plate into my hands. “I got it. Fancy duds. I’ll invite Dionysus.”
The woman cannot help but stir the pot every chance she gets. I roll my eyes. “You know better, Hermes.”
She keeps walking, talking over her shoulder at me. “He probably won’t show up, on account of the fact that he hates you. But I’ll invite him because I am a good friend, and it would hurt his feelings if I didn’t.”
“Dionysus isn’t my friend just because he’s your friend.”
“Can’t hear you. Bye!” She finger waves in my direction and then she’s gone. A few moments later, I hear the front door close. I stalk to it and flip the locks. I’ve made my peace with Hermes showing up whenever she damn well pleases. The woman is 90 percent cat; she comes and goes when she feels like it and helps herself to my food and booze regardless of whether I’m in the house to offer it or not. It’s annoying and weirdly endearing in a way no one but Hermes could pull off.
She’s agreed to officiate, so that’s one less call I have to make. I head back in the kitchen, clean off Hermes’s plate, and get to work on making breakfast for me and Psyche. It’s going to be a long fucking day.
10
Psyche
“You what?”
I bite back a sigh and focus on my phone. It’s divided into three squares, each depicting one of my sisters, all with varying expressions of fury and disbelief on their faces. Eros, damn him, was right. This isn’t going to be an easy sell. “Eros and I are getting married. Tonight.”
Callisto’s camera moves as she paces back and forth in her room. “I’m going to kill him.”