by Carly Spade
She tossed it over my arm. “Stop it. It’s going to look killer with that chocolate hair of yours.”
We tried on all dresses, and Sara ended up going with the first dress she’d picked out. Her gut instinct dress. Dark purple, halter top style, form-fitting, and a small amount of flair at the bottom. My favorite part was the array of sparkles covering the entire length of it. I insisted on trying the two random dresses I’d picked out first. The green one made my boobs bulge out of the top, and the blue one didn’t fit past my hips.
When I walked out in the cranberry dress, I had my hands slapped over my eyes. I hoped it looked as good as it did on the hanger. “How does it look?”
“Oh my God, Steph. You’re—a vision. Take your damn hands off your face.”
I peeled my fingers away, one by one. The reflection in the mirror couldn’t have been me. I didn’t recognize myself. An electric tingle traveled down my spine. The bodice hugged my curves, and the skirt portion made me want to twirl, but I held back. Sara stepped up behind me, gazing at the mirror over my shoulder.
“What did I tell you?” She asked with a grin.
“Care to explain what I’m wearing?”
She pointed at the bodice. “The pattern is called filigree, and the skirt is of tulle.”
Screw it. I twirled and twirled once more for good measure, the skirt flowing around me like a lazy cloud. “You were right. This is perfect.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s get the hell out of here. We’ve got some last-minute quizzing to do before trivia tonight. The first-place prize is two free spa admissions. Full body massage included.”
Everyone gathered in the massive atrium with a large screen and projector at the front. In the middle was a stage with a podium. Everyone sat in pairs. Predictably, Keith and Guy were there, and they’d zeroed in on us like two hounds with a fox. Sara and I did Greek mythology drills for the better part of two hours before arriving. We felt prepared and ready to win our free trip to the spa.
“King of the Gods,” Guy said to Keith.
Keith was bent forward, his elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands. “Zeus.”
“Goddess of Love.”
“Aphrodite.”
“God of the Forge.”
“Hephaestus.”
Guy flopped a pile of flashcards on the table. “We got this!”
Keith sat up, and they did some form of a practiced handshake.
“I certainly hope you don’t think simply knowing the names of all the gods and what they’re in control of is going to make you win,” Sara said, her legs crossed, the top one bouncing.
Keith made a pfft sound. “Of course not. We were running drills.”
My lips puckered together, holding back a laugh. We had this in the bag. Hades appeared from the darkness in the corner of the atrium. He stayed away from everyone, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against a nearby wall.
I elbowed Sara in the arm. “Wonder why he’s not joining in. You’d think he’d be great at this game being named after the god of the Underworld and all.”
“Maybe he’s supervising us mere mortals answering questions about his family,” she replied with a sidelong grin.
Hades stood motionless, his eyes catching the light like a cat.
“Well, this should be a lovely time, don’t you agree?” Michelle asked. She and Rupert walked up to our table dressed like they’d come from an elegant dinner. At least Rupert had pants on this time.
“Fan of mythology?” I asked as they sat down at our table.
Rupert leaned back in his chair and draped his arm over Michelle’s chair before crossing his legs. “Not particularly, but with that grand prize, I figured we might as well bloody try, right?” He gave a light smack to Keith’s shoulder.
In. The. Bag.
“Everyone, we are currently passing out buzzers for each pair. We will begin the game in a few minutes,” a resort worker announced.
A woman in a white polo rested a red plastic buzzer on the table between us. Sara couldn’t help but reach forward and slap her hand on it. It made an obnoxious boing sound. Other sounds resonated around us: classic buzzers, cuckoo clocks, and whistles.
“Is everyone ready?” The announcer on stage asked, scanning the crowd.
I threw my fists into the air, letting out as loud of a “woo” as I could. Sara followed suit, and we were successfully the loudest duo in the bunch. Flight of Icarus by Iron Maiden blasted through the speakers.
“Interesting choice, eh?” Guy said, bumping his shoulder into Keith’s.
Once the music died and the crowd was sufficiently pumped up, the announcer held his hands up for silence.
“We will ask a series of questions regarding Greek mythology. These questions may include the gods or heroes, so be prepared for both. I will read the questions, and they will appear on the screen behind me. Ring your buzzer when you’re ready to answer. Wrong answers will give you a negative point, so be sure not to buzz in prematurely.”
“First question: What was the home of the Greek gods?”
I went for the buzzer, but Keith and Guy’s went off first.
“Olympus!” Guy yelled, and they did their stupid hour-long handshake again.
Sara shrugged. “We thought we’d give you guys that one.”
I narrowed my eyes and scooted forward on my seat, hovering my hand over the buzzer.
“Correct! Next question: Who gave Pandora her infamous box?”
I slapped our buzzer and shouted, “Zeus!”
“Correct!”
“Ha!” I pointed at Keith and stuck my tongue out.
Sara chuckled. “You’re really getting into this.”
“What was Achilles’ weak spot?”
Michelle slapped her hand down so quickly she almost knocked the buzzer off the table. “Oh, heel, heel!” She bounced in her chair.
“Correct!”
Rupert leaned over, kissing her. “Great job, love.” He stared at a woman at another table.
“We practiced answering questions, but I think we should’ve practiced our reflexes,” I said to Sara through a fake smile.
“Don’t worry. There’s no way they’ll get the harder ones. They’ve been pretty easy so far,” Sara reassured.
“The wand of Hermes is called what?”
Crap. I didn’t know this one.
Sara pushed her hand down on top of mine, pressing the buzzer. “That would be the caduceus.”
“Very good! Correct!”
Guy smiled at her. “Impressive.”
“You have no idea, Canuck.” She shimmied her shoulders.
Both Canadians laughed. Michelle laughed with them, then looked at Rupert, who had taken out his cell phone and was mindlessly scrolling through it with his thumb.
“Who is the goddess of vengeance?”
Boing. “Nemesis!” I grinned, knowing I was right.
“Correct! Now…this next question is worth multiple points, so be prepared to answer in its entirety.”
Sara and I leaned forward, ready to win.
“The story of Hades and Persephone—”
My body tensed, and my throat felt like sandpaper. I looked over at Hades, and he shifted his stance. Instead of leaning lazily against the wall, he stood rigid.
“Legend says that Hades planted a certain flower to lure her away from her guides so he could abduct her and force her to be his bride of the Underworld. What was that flower, and who was Persephone’s mother?”
My chest tightened as I pressed the buzzer with less enthusiasm than before. “Narcissus. Demeter.” I spoke my answer in Hades’ direction, monotone.
“You have this legend as you call it…wrong,” Hades said from the shadows.
The announcer shielded his eyes from the spotlight. “I’m sorry?”
Hades sauntered from his darkened corner, dressed in his long-sleeve black shirt and pants. “It was Zeus who convinced Gaia to plant the flower. He wasn’t innocent in this
. And you all keep using words such as kidnapping and abducting. She was not held prisoner. It was she who ate the food of the Underworld.”
The way he spoke chilled me to the bone. Hurt and sadness laced every word.
The announcer laughed nervously. “We have ourselves an expert here, folks! The myths are, of course, always up for interpretation, sir.”
Hades’ fists clenched at his sides. “Interp—”
I could see his chest heaving through his shirt from across the room. A mysterious, dark smoke started to spread across the ground near him, then disappeared. Did I imagine it?
“What the hell is his problem?” Keith asked.
“Looks like we have our winners, everyone!” The announcer ignored Hades, pointing at Sara and me.
Claps, whoops, and hollers clouded the room, but I was far too distracted to care. Hades stormed away, and I stood, gripping Sara’s shoulder when I passed.
“Don’t you want to at least accept our—” Sara started, but I’d already trotted off.
I made it as far as the awning-covered walkway where he stood, gazing up at the moon.
“Hades?” I approached him like one would approach a Grizzly.
He slipped his hands in his pockets and kept his back turned. “Go away.”
His words stung, but I knew they came from a place of hurt. “You should really deal with this, you know? Talk to someone. I think you might be suffering from post-traumatic stress?”
He removed one of his hands and opened his fist. “I’m not—” He turned around to face me. “I’m gonna ask you one last time to let me be. I’ll bring nothing but bad news your way. You’re far too vibrant of a being, darlin’.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling naked even though I was fully clothed. “I’m only trying to help you.”
“I don’t need, nor did I ask for your help. Walk away. You can’t win every battle, and you’re most certainly not gonna win this one.” His jaw tightened, and he shoved his hand back into his pocket.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I nodded. “Alright. You win.” I held my tears back until I was a safe distance away then let them flow like the river Styx.
We spent most of the next day on the beach, killing time until the masquerade ball. I waded far enough into the water to let it crash against my hips, welcoming the sun warming my cheeks. Thoughts of the murder case returned and try as I might, I couldn’t make it go away. There was only so much distraction that could fool my brain.
“Stephanie, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sara asked.
I didn’t look at her. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet since breakfast this morning.” She counted on her fingers. “I’ve caught you staring into space several times. Plus, we passed Hades on our way over here, and you didn’t look at him.”
“Just enjoying myself, Sara. And as far as Hades goes…some people can’t be helped. He made it abundantly clear.”
She gave me a light shove. “Uh, huh. So, it’s Hades. What did he say to you? Do I need to strong-arm him?”
“Woah there, hellion.” I chuckled. “No need for violence. He just told me in a not so pleasant way to stop trying to help him. And so, I will.”
“Well, forget him. We’re going to have the time of our lives at the ball tonight.”
“Did you purposely, sort of quote Dirty Dancing?” I grinned.
She looked at me, sidelong. “Maybe? Did it cheer you up?”
“Yes.”
“Then, yes, I did.”
I laughed and splashed her.
She grabbed her head. “What did I tell you about getting my hair wet!”
“Remind me?” I splashed her again.
She yelped and backed away, pointing at me. “Costas, I will handcuff you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” I chuckled and pretended to splash her.
“I’m glad you’re back to your old self. I was worried Hades was rubbing off on you with that perpetual pout.”
I wrapped an arm around her waist. “Did you want me to teach you how to dance before we go to this thing?”
Her jaw dropped. “I know how to dance!”
“Are you serious?” I wanted to laugh, but when she didn’t crack a smile, I held back. “Sara, come on. You didn’t even know how to do the chicken dance at Olson’s wedding.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you going to teach me? The waltz?”
“Amongst others.”
“Fine. But only because I don’t want to make an ass of myself.”
As we made our way back to our room, Hades sat at the same bar, and a woman sat next to him. She smiled, leaning her face near his. He didn’t move and shook his head. Something he said made the woman frown and storm off.
Well, at least he’s consistent.
He caught my gaze, and my feet glued to the concrete. His stare gripped my spine like a vise. He looked—defeated. The pastel colorings of his aura were fading away.
Sara snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hey. None of that. Come on.”
I blinked myself back to reality.
We spent the better part of an hour going over the most basic moves for couples dancing. I sat on a couch in our room, staring off in the distance while Sara practiced.
“You know what?” Sara blew out a breath. “All I need to do is sway during the slow songs and shake my tailfeathers during the faster ones. I’m done.”
“Mmhmm,” I responded.
She dipped her face in mine. “Let me guess. Hades?”
After blowing my bangs away from my eyes, I said, “You should know I’m incapable of leaving well enough alone.”
“I know, sweetie.” She grabbed the curling iron and sat behind me, running her fingers through my hair. “You did all you could do.”
A small part of me hoped he’d inexplicably show up at the ball. The crowd would part, and he’d be standing there, beckoning me to dance with him.
Life isn’t a romance novel, Stephanie.
“All done. You ready to do this?” She held up a can of hairspray. “Close your eyes.” The air filled with mist and vapor, making me cough.
We slipped into our dresses. Thankfully mine was long enough; I could wear flats instead of heels. Function over beauty. Besides, I could barely walk three feet in a pair of heels without spraining my ankle. The atrium had been transformed into Mount Olympus itself. Tapestries and curtains in shades of white and gold were draped over tables and hung from ceilings. Several layers of fog skirted the floor, making the walkway a hovering cloud. An array of masks lay on a front table. I selected a lacey black one with several rows of beads that hung down over my cheeks.
“This looks like heaven,” Sara stammered, grabbing a white mask with points on the top like horns. She snatched two flutes of champagne from a passing tray.
“Tell me about it. The resort pulled out all the stops.”
There were several tables littered with finger foods, including a gelatin looking dish labeled as ambrosia. I was busy stuffing my mouth with cheese cubes when Guy walked up.
“What is this? Only one half of the dynamic duo?” Sarah asked.
Guy wore a grey suit with a dark blue necktie. “Keith got food poisoning. Been coming out of both ends since last night.”
Even though I knew it was highly unlikely he’d been poisoned from cheese, I spit it out in my napkin.
“That’s awful,” Sara said. “What a way to ruin a vacation.”
Guy nodded before giving an electric grin. “I still showed up. Specifically, to dance with you.”
“That’s sweet of you, but I can’t leave Steph by herself.”
I sputtered my champagne and shook my head. “By all means, go dance. Have fun. I’ve got this to keep me entertained.” I held up my glass.
“You sure?” She asked, her eyes brightening.
After finishing the contents of my glass, I plopped it on a passing tray and grabbed a full one. “Absolute
ly. Go.”
Guy took Sara’s hand, and they moved to the dance floor. I shuffled my way to a table in the corner, dragging my fingertips over the burnout velvet that made up the design on my bodice. It was the perfect dress. I flopped onto a chair, sipping my champagne, and kicking my feet to make the tulle of my skirt bounce.
Sara tripped too many times to count. He didn’t seem to mind, and they both kept laughing. It was a treasure to see her so carefree. Too many days, she spent physically chasing down bad guys and stepping around dead bodies. Seeing her spinning around in her purple gown, you’d have no clue she was a rough and gruff cop.
The song False Kings by Poets of the Fall blared over the loudspeakers. I closed my eyes, swaying to the rhythm and humming the melody. A chill washed over me, compelling me to open my eyes. A shadowed figure stood across the room, dressed in all black, dark blonde hair falling past his chin, face hidden by a simple black mask. Hades. Did I imagine it? I sniffed my champagne.
He appeared in front of me, his hand outstretched, the other draped over his back. “No one puts Stephanie in a corner.”
My jaw dropped. Did he quote one of my favorite movies? Sure, it was “nobody” not “no one,” but close enough. Furthermore, did he know it was my favorite?
“Are you going to sit there with your mouth open, or are you going to dance with me?” He still didn’t crack a smile, but his dark eyes peered down at me through the holes of his mask, almost twinkling.
I gulped and set the champagne on the table before slipping my hand into his. He led me to the dancefloor, capturing me with his stare. Once we reached the center, he tugged me to his chest, slipping an arm around my waist. A whoosh fluttered in my stomach.
“I didn’t think you’d show up. Especially after yesterday,” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from him.
He moved us around the dancefloor as if he’d practiced for a hundred years. “I’m sorry for being so brash with you.” His jaw tightened, and he lowered his voice. “It’s not one of my more admirable qualities.”