Page 31

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Icarus

I don’t know what to say to Poseidon. It feels like I’ve been in this strange new territory for days on end, something new accosting me every time I turn around. Tender care. Open communication, even if it’s uncomfortable. Sex unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. No wonder he’s talking about a potential future—he’s falling just as hard and unexpectedly as I am.

That should comfort me. I’m not dancing past the point of no return alone; he’s right there with me, every step of the way. But I don’t quite believe we’re moving toward some happy ending with rainbows and sunshine and happy endings . How can we when we have so many obstacles before us?

“Trust me.”

I jolt and glance to where Poseidon sits behind the steering wheel of his SUV—truly, I don’t think he even has a driver—tense and still. We’ve been sitting in this parking lot for thirty minutes, looking out over the water to where the ships linger, dark shadows against the increasingly darker water. Five, still.

It’s not time yet. Deo will text when they’re leaving so we can time our attack. I haven’t failed .

“Icarus.” He waits for me to drag my gaze back to him. “It will be okay. Trust me.”

“It’s not too late to lock me up and throw away the key. Better not risk having an enemy at your back for what comes next.” I don’t exactly want to be locked up, but for all that he’s one of the legacy titles, cutting his teeth on politics and backstabbing, Poseidon isn’t acting to type. He’s too trusting. It’s only been a couple days. I could be anyone. I could be me , belligerent playboy of an enemy country, sent to Olympus to bring it down.

He places his big hand on my jostling knee. “Breathe. Slowly. Through your nose.”

“I’m not—” At his sharp look, I stop arguing and obey. Within a few breaths, I feel better, calmer. I hate that. I love it, too. “They’re going to send me away. You might as well have done it first.”

“No.” Just that. No explanation, no doubt.

As the sun finishes setting and darkness takes root, Poseidon only becomes calmer, more in control. I don’t understand it. Personally, I feel like I’m one mild inconvenience away from spinning out entirely. I flip wildly between believing the blackmail will work and being absolutely sure that Deo and the others are going to bet that they can kill me before I can release my blackmail to Circe and Aeaea. It’s what my father would do.

My father. Who’s dead.

“Did you toss my father’s body in a dumpster like I told you to?” The words feel jagged in my throat.

“You know I didn’t.” He squeezes my knee. “There’s a small funeral home for my people and their families. He’s been moved there and will remain until you’re ready to face him.”

Of course he will. Of course Poseidon has thought of everything—and brought a level of caring that I suspect has nothing to do with the fact we’re sleeping together. It’s just Poseidon . “Cremate him and toss him in the trash.”

He’s silent for several minutes that feel like a small eternity. “If that’s truly what you want to do, then tell me again tomorrow and I’ll see it done. Not the trash. I’ll store his remains somewhere safe in case you ever change your mind.” He pauses. “An alternate option is to have his body converted to soil and plant a tree. We have a designated space outside the city for people who want to utilize that option.”

I have spent all of my adult life and no small amount of my childhood learning to lie and shield my emotions from those around me. There’s absolutely no reason for Poseidon’s kindness to have my throat closing and my eyes burning. I blink a few times, but it only makes the sensation worse. “He was a monster. Not just to everyone else, but to me and Ariadne, too. He hated every part of me, and the more I tried to please him, the more he loathed the weakness that drove me to seek his approval.”

Poseidon shifts his hand to mine, linking our fingers together. “It’s okay to mourn him. Or to mourn the father and person he should have been. It doesn’t mean you excuse all the bad things he did.”

A single tear slips free and I have to close my eyes to keep the rest in. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?”

“I can’t take credit for it.” He chuckles a little. “I read a lot and try to learn from people smarter than me. That’s from one of my books.”

I don’t have to ask why he was reading a book apparently about grief for a person who was terrible—his uncle. My laugh is watery. “Shit is complicated.”

“Life usually is.”

I breathe slowly, giving myself time to get under control. He waits me out with a patience I can’t quantify. Finally, I manage, “If we live through this mess, I think I’d like to read that book.” It’s nowhere close to the promises of a potential future we made earlier today, but it feels monumental all the same.

“I’m happy to give it to you.” He squeezes my hand. “And there’s no if , Icarus. You’re living through the night.”

I wish I had his confidence. I wish I had a lot of things. I open my mouth to say as much, but two cars pull in on either side of us before I can. They’re identical to the one we sit in, black SUVs with deeply tinted windows. I tense, expecting an ambush. When a door opens and Zeus steps into the cold night, I’m not exactly reassured. This is all part of the plan, but I can’t help the worry nibbling at the back of my mind that I’ve missed something, that everything is about to go terribly wrong.

That Poseidon will be the one to pay the price.

Zeus walks right up to my window and stares so pointedly, there’s nothing to do but roll it down. I’ll never get used to how cold his blue eyes are. My father had a terrifying presence, but he covered it up with charm. Zeus doesn’t try to cover up anything. He’s like a piece of ice carved into a man’s shape. It makes me shiver.

His gaze flicks over me and lands on Poseidon. “Clock’s ticking.”

Poseidon seems to struggle with something but finally clears his throat. “Hera called me this afternoon.”

If I wasn’t watching Zeus so closely, I wouldn’t notice the way he clenches his jaw. His reaction is nowhere in evidence in his voice. “And?”

“And if this doesn’t work—and even if it does—I would sleep with one eye open.”

“Let me worry about my wife.” Normal people would react to the late autumn wind surging past Zeus and into the car. He just stands as if he really is untouchable. I don’t believe in that shit. I’ve seduced and betrayed people who thought they were untouchable—it’s why we’re here tonight—but he’s on another level. It scares the shit out of me.

Poseidon must notice my shivers, because he says, “Let’s go up to the warehouse while we wait for Hades and the rest. The coffee isn’t good, but it’s hot, and there’s plenty of room for everyone.”

“Lead the way.”

Poseidon glances at me, his eyes filled with something I don’t have a name for, and then he steps out of the SUV. I have to wait for Zeus to move before I can do the same.

He levels a cold look at me. “If you attempt to double-cross us, I’ll cut you down, but I won’t stop there. I’ll find your sister and ensure she knows exactly who’s to blame before she dies.”

As threats go, it’s a good one. Except for one notable detail. “That’s like the twelfth time someone has issued that exact threat. It’s getting old. You’re not touching Ariadne. You’d have to get through the Minotaur, and he’s the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever met—including you.”

His lips quirk, and it should warm his expression, but somehow it just makes him look less kind, less human . “I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” He finally moves back enough for me to get out of the vehicle.

I very much would like to keep the metal door between us, but I’ve dealt with enough predators in my time to know never to show fear. No matter how much it’s chilled me to the bone. Especially when Zeus follows soundlessly on my heels around the back of the car to where Poseidon waits.

Poseidon steps between us immediately, slipping an arm around my shoulder and tucking me against his body. It serves to protect me from the wind, but I can’t help how aware I am of Zeus watching us. Or of the woman who steps out of the second car and moves to join us. Athena.

A pair of people join her, and I glare at the Black woman with a scarred face and medium-brown skin at her right shoulder. Atalanta is built for combat, with a muscular body and her locs pulled back and fastened up to prevent anyone from using them as handholds. She made a name for herself in the Ares tournament, but after the ill-fated party in the countryside, she changed allegiance from Artemis to Athena.

She also hunted me and my sister through Olympus just days ago. She catches me watching her and winks. I just stare, but that doesn’t dampen her grin any.

At her side is a tall Black person with warm brown skin, a head of thick curls, and an intense look on their handsome face. Bellerophon, Athena’s second-in-command. They don’t even look at me, choosing instead to focus on Poseidon. “We’ve tapped into the cameras in the area to supplement your people’s watches, but I have no way of getting eyes on those ships. They seem to be on a closed network.”

They are, but I don’t bother to say as much. There’s no point. They won’t take my word for it, and even if they did, there’s nothing we can do about it.

Bellerophon keeps talking. “Based on the ship models, we have blueprints, but we can’t guarantee the interior will look like we expect.”

That, I know nothing about. Blueprints of ships I never intended to set foot on weren’t something that interested me. I follow Poseidon inside the warehouse. The huge space feels significantly smaller because of all the shit in here, pallets stacked nearly to the tall ceiling. I can’t identify what any of them contain before we step through a door into a makeshift break room that’s been built inside the warehouse.

Atalanta makes a beeline for the coffee. She sniffs the pot and laughs. “Not the worst I’ve ever had.”

Bellerophon gives her a faintly put-upon look as Atalanta sips the coffee that looks too thick to be termed liquid. They turn back to Poseidon and hold up a tablet. “I have a map to go over our plan of attack.”

Athena crosses her arms over her chest. For once, she’s not wearing an impeccably tailored suit, choosing to forgo that in exchange for cargo pants and a formfitting long-sleeved shirt that shows off a lean body. She’s also bristling with guns. I count four in various holsters, and I’m sure there are a few extra tucked away. She’s held her title for quite a while and survived multiple assassination attempts in the last couple weeks; it’s clear that she is just as capable of murder as the people who work under her. Of course she is; this is Olympus, after all.

She catches me watching her and raises a brow. “If you go for one of my guns, all you’ll get for the effort is a new hole in your head.”

“Enough, Athena.”

She snorts and turns to Zeus. “Hades isn’t coming. We shouldn’t wait.”

“He’s coming.” He sits down in a rickety chair, somehow transforming the impression of it into a throne. It’s a neat trick. I don’t understand how he can be so calm, but I suppose he’s been raised to the role. Unlike me, this man wasn’t a disappointment to his father.

We mill around in somewhat awkward silence. Poseidon hovers at my shoulder, all his earlier relaxation gone. It makes me want to stand between him and the rest of them, but that will only make things worse. Still, the impulse is a new one and I marvel at it. The big guy has me acting against type. I really have gone and fallen for him, haven’t I?

I reach out tentatively and press my hand to the center of his back. I actually feel his exhale. He gives me a brief smile, but then his gaze lands over my head and he freezes.

There’s nothing to do but turn around. I almost wish I didn’t. A group of black-clad people walk into the room as if they own it, fanning out almost as if they intend to block off the exits.

Hades is here.