Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I stumble to the fridge on sheer instinct. Showing weakness is never an acceptable option, but doubly so when in the presence of this woman. My father’s secret informant. It’s still up for debate on which one of them came out on top in that little agreement. Except, I suppose it’s not. He’s dead.
As for her? The barrier has come down and Circe is at Olympus’s figurative gates.
I pull out a container labeled as breakfast and pry the lid off. I’m not even certain what I’m looking at—some kind of hash maybe? It doesn’t matter. I’m starving and I need to keep my hands occupied while in the presence of Hermes. I shove the whole container into the microwave and turn to face her. “What are you doing here? I would think you’d be cozying up to Circe now that there’s not a barrier between you.”
There’s a tiny twitch at one corner of her lips. Grimace or smile? Impossible to say. She dips her spoon back into her bowl. “Come now, my boy. You must know that things are always more complicated than they seem. Circe and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms.”
She has to be lying. I eavesdropped on her deal with my father, and later Ariadne hacked into his computer and got secondary confirmation: Hermes agreed to sponsor my father so that the family could come into Olympus for the Ares trials, then she sold him her house and lent her presence as an element of respectability, such as it is. All along, she knew he intended to set Theseus and the Minotaur after members of the Thirteen, killing them to trigger the assassination clause then take their titles. For that alone, I suspect most Olympians would label her a traitor. And she did it all in the name of getting more information about my father’s benefactor: Circe.
Why do that if not to seek her out? It doesn’t make sense.
I stare at Hermes until the microwave dings, startling me out of my confusion. “Then why go through all this trouble?” Without her help, my father would have had a harder time getting into the city and digging his roots in so deep. No doubt Circe had backup plans in place, but that doesn’t change the fact that Hermes made it easy.
She waves her spoon at me. “Normally, I would remind you that I’m a lady and a lady never tells, but we’re in the endgame now.” She tilts her head to the side, her braids sliding over one thin shoulder. Truly, she is one of the most beautiful of the Olympians. She’s a Black woman somewhere in her thirties, or possibly older, or maybe younger. It’s really hard to say because her features are so youthful. She’s worn her hair in a number of styles since I’ve met her, but currently it is in box braids that hit the middle of her back. It leaves her high cheekbones and generous lips on full display. She’s stunning.
“The endgame,” I repeat slowly. “But why?”
“You’re from Aeaea.”
I blink. “You know I am.”
“Mm-hmm.” She takes a bite of her cereal and chews slowly. “You like the way they run things there?”
It’s an effort not to tense. Of course I don’t. I grew up in relative privilege, but the cost was so damned high. It’s still nothing compared to what the Minotaur experienced, to what Theseus and Pandora survived. I might not like any of them all that much, mostly due to my father’s favoritism, but I’m not a complete fool. I know their stories are just three of many. “No.”
“That’s how I feel about Olympus.” Her deep-brown eyes are shadowed with the past—or maybe the future. “Just because something’s always been this way doesn’t mean it should continue to always be this way.” She shrugs. “Sometimes you have to blow up a few eggs to make an omelet.”
I don’t point out that that isn’t how the saying goes. I’m too focused on the fact that I’m apparently having a frank conversation with the Queen of Secrets herself. “But you’re one of the Thirteen. You’re one of the most powerful people in the city. If you don’t like how things are run, then change it.”
“Been there, tried that, bought a shitty T-shirt. The corruption goes too deep.” She surveys me. “You should get out of the city, sooner rather than later. Traitors to both sides don’t tend to have long lifespans.”
“I’m aware.” I’m so focused on her, I don’t realize Poseidon has joined us in the room until he’s glowering from the doorway I entered through a few minutes ago. He crosses his arms over his chest, seeming to fill the space even more. I glance at his face and shiver. He’s fucking furious.
Hermes tenses, almost as if preparing for flight, and then makes a visible decision to relax. Her brows rise and she takes two bites of her cereal while he glares at her. She doesn’t rush, and I can appreciate her audacity even if the tension in the room becomes so thick, I want to part it with my hands just to get some relief.