No, my wife doesn’t know how to give up. She’ll put on a brave face and keep going until someone successfully kills her. The thought shouldn’t bother me, but it feels like sandpaper under my skin. Fucking wrong. Frustration makes my voice rough. “So I’m supposed to fold?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“Whatever you think you owe Minos, you’ve paid that price ten times over,” she says quietly. “I don’t want you to pay with your life, too.”
There it is again, that worry that I’ll be one of the Thirteen struck down. I want to argue with her. I am not some pampered rich person who doesn’t know how to defend myself. But the doubt planted with Adonis this morning is blooming into something ugly inside me.
I glance at her empty cup. “You done?”
“Yes, Theseus.” She sighs again. “I’m done.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Neither of us says anything as I pay the tab and we head out to the street. I call Pandora a car and wait with her while it arrives. She stares at the people walking down the sidewalk, all intent on getting to their destinations. “You should ask him.”
No need to ask what she’s talking about. I bite back a curse. “Even if I did, I’m not going to tell you what the fuck he’s planning. You say you see the way I look at Adonis, but I see the way you look at my wife.”
She gives a faint smile. “I like her quite a bit.”
I do, too.
I shake my head. Where the fuck did that thought come from? “It doesn’t matter. I’m loyal to him. I know better than expecting that same loyalty from you, but fuck, Pandora. Switching sides?”
“Mmm.” Her ride pulls up and she steps off the curb. She opens the door and looks back at me. “I don’t want to be any more involved in this than I already am. I’m in this city for you.” She pauses, dark eyes worried. “But you should know what he’s planning, Theseus. You’re paying the price for his ambitions—not Minos. If you’re going to suffer because of him, you should at least know why.”
She’s gone before I can form an answer. Really, there’s no answer. Pandora’s always had faith in me. That I’d stand strong against whatever the fuck the world threw at us. That I wouldn’t buckle under the pressure of keeping us safe. For how well she knows me, she’s never seemed to notice how fucking scared I was when we were kids.
She was the only thing I ever cared about. Not the beatings. Not being deprived of food. Not the agonizing work they put us through. Pandora. Every day, I saw her fight to keep her light shining, and every day, I was terrified that I’d wake up and see the same haunted look on her face that every other kid in that place wore. I went without to make sure she had what she needed, and if she noticed that, she never seemed to register what drove it.
Fear.
I might have protected her up to that point where that fucking priest got ideas, but who’s to say I would have kept being successful? We were kids. Too weak to do more than drown in the waves made by people more powerful than us.
Minos changed that. I’m not a complete fool. I know he sees me as a tool to be used. Not a son. Never that. But I’ve seen the way Minos treats his only son. Better to be a tool than an eternal disappointment.
I stop short. What the fuck am I thinking? I’ve never doubted him. Not like this. Yeah, I haven’t been a naive innocent, dancing to the tune he sang, but I’ve never questioned him. Not really.
If you’re going to suffer because of him, you should at least know why.
“Damn it, Pandora,” I mutter. “Damn it, Adonis. And damn it, Eris.” One of them, I could ignore, but all three?
I flag down a taxi and give Minos’s address. We make it two blocks before the driver’s increased focus on me makes my skin prickle. I stop looking out the window and start watching him. His hands shift restlessly on the steering wheel and he’s studying me as much as his eyes are on the road. Not in a curious way, either. There’s intent there. It’s happening. He’s a nobody, some random citizen, but that doesn’t mean he’s not a danger.
I lean forward, getting right in his space. “Yeah, I’m Hephaestus. You might have heard the news about that nasty little clause, which means you know why that news was released.”
He licks his lips, his temples damp with sweat. “You’re the reason we even know about the clause. You killed the last Hephaestus.”