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“You clearly have your hands full with her,” the mortal said, taking a drag of his cigar. “What can I do for you, Dionysus?”

The question was posed with a note of suspicion Dionysus did not miss.

“Do you not trust that I merely wished to catch up with an old friend?”

Michail laughed. “An old friend to be certain,” he said. “But catching up is not within your interests. You’ve come for something as you always do. Tell me. Perhaps I can help.”

“Perhaps you can,” Dionysus said. Ariadne had ceased to suck on his ear, which was somehow both disappointing and a relief, but now she toyed with his braids as she leaned against him, and all he could really think was how soft her breasts felt against his chest. He considered that he should probably touch her more, but he could not embrace this role as easily as she could, because despite her consent, it still felt wrong without her interest.

“Why don’t you entertain us from afar, darling?” Michail asked.

Dionysus was not sure why the mortal made the request. Perhaps he found that Dionysus was too distracted, or he’d incorrectly inferred that the god did not wish for her to hear.

Perhaps he wished to see her.

“No,” Dionysus said quickly, his hands tightening on her hips to hold her in place as if he had the right to possess her. “I like her here just fine.”

“I’ve got this, baby,” she said, her lips caressing his as she spoke.

He could not help the low growl that escaped his mouth. She’d fully committed to this role, and he was not sure how to feel about it.

Actually, he was sure he hated it, but that was also ridiculous given they’d agreed on the part she would play.

She pushed off him and straightened.

“You got any music, honey?” she asked Michail.

“I’ve got anything you need, darling,” he said.

Ariadne smiled at the man as he reached for a remote. With the push of a button, their box was suddenly vibrating with a steady beat.

“Will that work, sweetheart?” he asked.

Her smile widened. “Perfect.”

Dionysus glared at her, but she did not seem to notice as she walked to the space in front of them where a silver pole glimmered in the firelight. He couldn’t take her eyes off her as she shrugged out of her jacket. He hated his curiosity. He wondered what she would do. How thoroughly had she played this game as a detective?

But then she took hold of the pole and swung all the way around it, and he knew by the one smooth move she had done this before. She moved beautifully, naturally, almost as if she considered it an art and not a form of entertainment. He couldn’t look away as she arched and swayed. He wanted to be that gods-damned pole, and the only thing that kept him rooted in reality and not slipping off into a fantasy was the thought of Michail sitting beside him and watching Ariadne dance while getting hard; it pissed him off to an extent that surprised even him. His fists were clenched in his lap.

This was a mistake.

“Well, Dionysus?” the mortal inquired.

The god cleared his throat and barely managed to look away from Ariadne.

“I’m looking for a woman. Her name is Gorgo,” Dionysus said, giving the name Medusa was thought to be using. “I believe she worked for you for a time?”

“Ah,” Michail said. “Yes, beautiful creature.”

“Do you know where she’s gone?”

“Why are you looking?”

From the corner of his eye, Dionysus could still see Ariadne dancing. He wanted so badly to look. He wanted so badly to tell her to stop. He wanted her so badly.

Fuck him.

He cleared his throat. “She owes me money,” he said.