I can’t understand that, but then, I’m a very different person than Ariadne. I make a mental note to touch base with Eurydice and see if she’s made any progress prying Ariadne out of that shell. “I’ll text you later.”
Pandora bites her lip and shifts a little. “Okay.” She hesitates and then rushes forward to press a quick kiss to my mouth. Before I can change my mind again, she’s gone, slipping out of my living room. A few seconds later, I hear my front door shut.
Normally, after a sleepless night, no matter how used to them I am, it takes a truly outstanding amount of coffee to put a little pep in my step. Not this morning. I feel strangely buoyant as I get ready to go into the office. The nature of my title means I don’t have giant holdings like Demeter or soldiers like Ares or a team of engineers like Hephaestus. I prefer it that way.
I wonder what my dear husband was up to last night?
I push the thought away. He managed well enough on his own, and I wouldn’t trade that quiet time with Pandora for anything. I’ll worry about him later. Right now, I’m going to enjoy my good mood and the good weather.
The morning is nice, the air crisp with just a tease of winter’s chill. Far too nice to take the car. Besides, after what happened to Athena, it’s especially important that the Thirteen don’t hide. We have fought our battles in the court of public perception, but the stakes have never been higher. The average Olympian won’t stoop to murder, no matter how delightful they find the fantasy of being one of the Thirteen, but it would take very little for the tide of public opinion to turn against us and for the people to start rooting for our assassins.
We’re facing down a rabid creature; one flinch and it will tear out all our throats.
There aren’t many people out and about, just a scattering of professionals making the trek to work. Several of them eye me, but I’m used to that. I’ve grown up under the watchful eye of the entire city. Paparazzi were snapping photos of me on the grade school playground. There was a particularly disgusting set of people who did countdowns to when Helen and I turned eighteen. As an adult, there’s always someone staring or, if they’re brave, asking for a picture or an autograph. There’s even a particularly robust fanfic community devoted to shipping me with anyone I look sideways at.
It’s just how my life is.
I make it to my office without having to directly deal with anyone. It’s a small building compared to the ones that tower around it, but I like to think that’s because we have nothing to prove. People who come through my doors need a service only I can provide.
I took the Aphrodite title because I wanted the power, even if the last bitch who held it only gave it to me to sow discord. I never expected to enjoy the work.
Sele looks up as I slip through the door. They’re a petite person with medium-brown skin, truly outstanding cheekbones, and black hair they keep in a funky short style. Today they’re wearing a long-sleeved black garment that I don’t clock as a jumpsuit until they move around from behind the desk. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
They eye me. “You look…oddly happy.”
“Thank you, Sele, I’ll take that backhanded compliment.” I shake my head. “Especially when you usually tell me that I look tired.”
“Because you usually do look tired. Really, there’s a reason I gave you those sleepy-time teas.” They arch an eyebrow. “Also, there’s someone here to see you.”
That gives me pause. “Already? We just opened the doors a few minutes ago.”
“He was waiting outside. Kind of sad, really. You should cut the poor guy a break.” They move back behind the front desk and tap a button of their keyboard. “Also, there are a bunch of requests for matches that came in overnight. I just sent them to you.”
“Thanks.” I sense movement behind me and turn to find the very last person that I want to see on this morning. My promise of a very good day goes down the drain before my eyes.
My husband is here.
19
HEPHAESTUS
My wife looks good. Far too good. She’s pulled her long dark hair back from her face in a sleek ponytail, and she’s wearing a red dress that’s slightly too sexy for the office. Everything about her is a temptation, and even knowing how poisonous her touch is, part of me wants to do it anyway.
I glance at the receptionist. They’ve been nice enough, allowing me into the lobby to wait for her, but I can feel their curiosity. More proof of Adonis’s plan working, no matter what Minos thinks. I had fully intended to tell Adonis to fuck off with the plan last night, but now I’m not so sure that’s the right call. People are starting to look at me with interest and sympathy, rather than suspicion and rage. I hate the sympathy, but it serves my purpose.