I don’t shift, only run. Run as fast as I can as I hold the sides of my dress. Run up the winding stairs toward her room as tears begin to fall. I know what I have to do and what I have to give up. He was right, a heartless bitch I’m not. At least not yet. I’d made enemies, so many enemies, and now they are coming for the ones I hold dear.
Sometime during the rave, I’d realized exactly who I needed to call for help. It came as skin melded to skin, lips sucked lips, and I took in the vivid displays of dancing so frantic and chaotic it began to appear choreographed. There was beauty in chaos. The answer became clear, even without my brain consciously putting it together.
So many questions ran through my head. The number one being, how did Melisseus always know when my guard was down? Was there a mole within Olympus? Perhaps one of the many Titans that no longer resided in Tartarus? Every god in Olympus was a gossip.
“Atë, this seems like a conversation we probably shouldn’t have in the lobby.” I paused, then continued after deciding to answer her question. “I remember BDZ disappointing me as much as the mortals and justice becoming a game. What side of that game are you on?”
Regardless of what happened between us and my callous ways, it proves one thing. Erebus cares for me. Which is a problem. So me being me, I do what I always do. I destroy it. Everything he bought, everything he gave me. Ruined.
Why would she be looking for me? “I’m here on business,” I say. “I’d heard they’d let you out. I would have visited, but, well, you know…” I look Atë up and down and raise my eyebrows. The outfit hugs her figure, accentuating her curves, and I don’t need to use my skills to know what every man in the bar is thinking.
I can do this. It is only temporary, right? I survived trying to destroy Olympus and a thousand years in Tartarus. This will be easy. I’ll just live with the man I am in love with but can’t have, try to hunt down two mad titans, avoid my enemies from my past, and control my powers. Piece of cake.
“Well, they don’t feed off the same things we do, but it is exhausting. Also, between us girls, I don’t think I’ll ever fit into what they want me to be. I’m not good or this cosmic being of perpetual bliss. And I don’t think I ever will be.”
It took me the better part of the morning, but I found her. It looked as though she had been on a shopping spree. She was carrying half a dozen bags. Retail therapy, really? Murder spree, epic fight, sex, and shopping. I shrugged to myself. Yeah, that sounded about right. I didn’t want to interrupt what seemed to be a carefree morning for her. Now that she was out, I had all the time in the world to figure out what she was up to.
We work silently, and soon the remains of my doors are in the trash, and Atë’s staring at the floor with a strange expression.
Hitting her affectionately on the shoulder, I murmur, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”
Her eyes turn to mine. “What is?”
With a smirk, I ruffle her hair lightly. “Cleaning up your own mess.”
My back arches and I grind against the caresses, my moans an answer to his groans of pleasure. My pace quickens, and his hips buck in helpless need before I feel his hand tighten in my hair, scrunching it, knotting it, and I know I don’t need godly powers to own him.
Her voice echoed through the expanse. “Oh, I remember everything. That’s what Tartarus does. It was a thousand years for me. A thousand years of nightmares. Of torture. Of Darkness. Reliving my mistakes over and over again until I begged for an end.”
Sitting back on my heels, I looked at her, taking every inch of her all in. My breath caught in my throat. “It would have at least been nice to be given a choice. But you took that away from me.” As angry as I was, I knew she was right. My eyes softened.