He draws himself up, but if he thinks he can intimidate these two, he’s more of a fool than I thought possible. “My brother will hear about this.”
“Will he?” Helen cocks her head. “Is he also going to hear about the fact that you were chasing Cassandra around like a creep who doesn’t understand the word ‘no’？ Because personally, I think Apollo would be very interested to hear about that.”
Ah. So the rumors about Apollo and Cassandra are true, at least when it comes to his interest in her. From what I’ve seen, she’s given him about as much attention as she gave Orpheus—as in only enough to escape his presence whenever he shows up. The fact that they work together only seems to complicate the issue.
Orpheus seems to realize he’s outmatched and glares. “You can’t treat me like this.”
“Sweetheart.” The softness in Helen’s tone hides a vicious dagger. “Look around this room. Every one of us is related to the Thirteen in some way. You’re not special here. Go play with your groupies and don’t bother showing up for one of my parties again. It will be horribly embarrassing to require security to show you out.”
He curses but turns and leaves, the eyes of every person in the room on him. It’s only when the door shuts behind him that Helen flips her hair off her shoulder. “Gods, he’s such an asshole. Why did I even invite him again?”
“Because you said he’s an asshole whose face you’d like to ride,” Eros says mildly.
“Ah. That.” Helen snaps her fingers. “Right. I forgot.” She gives me an apologetic look that seems genuine. “Obviously I wouldn’t have touched him while he was with your sister, but I have horrible taste in men and better than questionable taste in women. It can’t be helped.”
“I…see.” I don’t hold it against her. Why would she care about Eurydice’s emotional health? They don’t know each other, and it’s every person for themselves in this city—especially in this crowd. I paste a smile on my face. “No hard feelings.”
“It’s cute when you lie.” Her smile goes sharp. “I meant what I said just now. He’s dead to me. No more parties, no face-sitting. You’re practically family at this point, and family sticks together, for better or worse.”
I can’t trust her. I can’t trust anyone in this room, including Eros. But as I let Helen tow me to the dining room table to start a drinking game, I find myself wishing that I could.
25
Eros
My wife is drunk. Exceedingly drunk. She leans against me as I try to wrestle her coat on. Psyche is cute even while sloshed, and the irritation I might have felt if she were any other person is nowhere in evidence.
“I like her.”
Psyche rests her face against my chest and smiles at Helen. “I like you, too.”
Helen’s relaxed for the first time since we arrived. Everyone is gone, even Eris, and she’s let her frenetic alter ego dissipate. “You two can crash here if you want to.”
It would be safer, but unfortunately, I have to weigh the small danger of traveling back to my penthouse against the sheer amount of damage staying could cause. I give her a look. “And when we’re photographed leaving in the morning, they’ll run a story about how we were engaged in some sordid threesome because the spark has already gone out of our marriage after only a week.”
She shrugs. “If you were anyone else and she wasn’t shit-housed, I’d consider it.”
“Your compliments leave something to be desired.” I chuckle a little as Psyche weaves away from me, and I have to loop an arm around her waist to keep her upright. “You shouldn’t have played drinking games with my wife, though.”
“She seemed like she was having fun.”
“I was!” Psyche lurches, and I have to take two steps to counterbalance her.
Helen leans forward and grabs Psyche’s hand. “Just so you know, we’re sisters now. No takebacks.”
Which is right around the time I realize that Helen isn’t exactly sober, either. Damn it. “Lock the door behind me.”
“Yes, Eros.” She grins. “Marriage looks good on you. You seem happy. You should keep her.”
I plan on it.
I can’t say that aloud. Not here. Not now. Certainly not like this. “See you later.” I shuffle Psyche out the door, pause long enough to listen to Helen throw the dead bolt, and then head for the elevator. Once we’re closed inside it, I glance at Psyche. “Are you feeling sick?”