“That reminds me. You need to stop making Eros and the attendants do everything. You’ve been letting them pick up all the slack. You are supposed to find the matches, and your son, enforce them. Your attendants inform and keep track of people for you, instilling beauty, happiness, jollity, lust, to reinforce the matches you make. The other boys are to make sure the love you instill succeeds in marriage or to have it thwarted. You, along with Aglaea, are to instill beauty in the world of mortals. But no one has been working together. Eros is doing it all, the others sometimes lending a helping hand. Tell me, Aphrodite, if things continue as they are, what use do I have for you?”
“None.” I told him what he wanted to hear. “But I will make myself useful again.” Holy Hades, Zeus was an old bore.
“Last order of business is your son,” Zeus said.
“What about him?”
“He’s falling for a mortal,” Zeus told me.
“He’s not falling for her. It can’t be serious. Plus, aren’t we all entitled to our little mortal toys?” I scoffed. The hypocrite could hardly tell me Archer couldn’t be with a mortal when Zeus himself had been with so many mortal and immortal women over the years. After all, that’s where Apollo, Artemis, Dionysus, Hermes, and most of the hybreed-turned-gods came from.
“I do not like this mortal,” he said vaguely with a flourish of his hand. “Surely, he can have his games with a different one.”
“I should go directly home. I ordered him to make her fall in love with someone already.” I didn’t like the idea of Archer ignoring my wishes. As my son, he was supposed to be obedient; there was a tie that binds, as the saying goes, meaning he couldn’t outwardly disobey Ares or me.
“He disobeyed,” Zeus told me.
“He can’t.”
“Did you order with selfish intent?” Hera interjected, as always, where she wasn’t wanted.
I didn’t answer at first, and they took it as an affirmative. “She has beauty beyond what is right for any mortal,” I protested on seeing he expected an answer. “I should go home and stop it.” This Callie was indeed another wench who was wedging herself between my son and me. Stupid kid to let feeble mortals rule his heart and mind. I swear, the boy lived to embarrass me.
“No, I’ll keep an eye on him. I’ve sent the Charities as a distraction. Eros isn’t irrational. He doesn’t make a habit of toying with mortals, like some others,” he added, insinuating me.
What. A. Hypocrite. I was seething but trying to keep my temper under control.
Zeus was well aware of how angry he was making me and was gloating about how I couldn’t retaliate, much like a pig rolling around in its own filth. He was purposely doing this to distract me. I wasn’t sure what Zeus’s “keeping an eye” on my child would mean. Nothing good, and most likely, he would meddle. I wasn’t in a position at the moment to ask questions, though.
He continued, his expression brightening. “You will take care of your ex-husbands, and then I want a list of a minimum of a thousand couples you have found for your son to enforce. You get those men in your life in line, and you’ll be handsomely benefited. Did you not say you wanted another child? Try that on my son, and see what he says. He still laments Phobos’s and Deimos’s deaths. And I know you miss Harmonia,” Zeus suggested.
I held my breath in order not to react. Jerk, jerk, jerk! Was Zeus devoid of all parental feeling? How could he casually bring up Ares’s and my deceased children? After our affairs and big split, Ares and I got back together from time to time. About four hundred years after the hybreed mistakes were made immortal, Zeus granted us a baby, which resulted in twins. Our daughter followed not long after. Yes, the twin boys Phobos and Deimos I found to be awful creatures, being gods of horror and dread respectively, but I adored dressing them alike, and their father loved them more than anything. We lost them in the Battle of Thermopylae, when they were hardly more than four hundred years old, and our dearest and only daughter died trying to save them: Harmonia, goddess of peace. To talk of her pained me more than anything. Our children lived on in the world through humanity: their presence was always felt among the mortal world still, but if Harmonia had survived, I imagine this world would be a much kinder place.
I was brought back to reality when Zeus handed me a bank card. “Fifty thousand for your troubles.” He smiled. “I will also cut Hermes’s last transgression and wire it to yours and Eros’s accounts.” Hermes was an eternal thief, and his last heist was so huge and mind-boggling, it disrupted the mortal world and enraged Zeus.
I thanked him heartily. If the cut was as much as I suspected, it would keep me afloat for a decade. Plus, Archer never burned through his money like me. He’d keep us afloat much longer if I could keep him with me.
Hymenaios walked in. The sight of that immortal made my heart race because he was always accompanied by the other two: my and Ares’s mistakes. I wanted to forget my little offspring and murder Ares’s. In a moment of weakness, I’d fallen for the mortal Adonis. To love a being who can die is ludicrous, and I’d learned my lesson the hard way.
Zeus observed me with a smirk as the two little wretches entered, and I attempted to compose myself. They gave me anxious stares, and I forced myself to give them a small smile of recognition. Their uneasiness always made me perturbed, and I assumed my indifference to their existence was what made them uneasy. It was a vicious cycle that I had no clue how to remedy.
“Aphrodite,” they said in unison, bowing at my feet. I bowed my head and addressed them out of civility, not wanting to snub them in public, “Anteros, Himerus.” I tried not to hiss the second’s name. After all, it wasn’t their fault they existed, but Ares’s and mine alone, and Zeus’s as well for making them immortal.
“Don’t worry, dear.” Hera patted my hand reassuringly. “Zeus has them on a mission. They were just leaving,” she whispered demurely. I hated her condescending attitude toward me.
The boys looked away from me sheepishly, probably having heard Hera’s stinging remark. I felt myself relax as Hymenaios hugged his mother Euterpe, a Muse, and the three of them said goodbye to others as they were leaving. Anteros, who was mine, glanced back at me with a strange expression and then continued on. I kept a stoic mask upon my face but met his gaze. What was his look? Longing? Bitterness? Regard? I couldn’t tell. I didn’t know a thing about the little wretch. A wave of guilt washed over me for my lack of maternal feelings.
The last three of my “love retinue” left. Ha! Companions and helpers for us? More like, here are your sins to haunt you for eternity. I swear Zeus enjoyed torturing us.
I tried to banish thoughts of the foundlings and the painful memories of the past, but they kept creeping forward. Despite my desire to suppress such memories, they came back: the infidelity Ares started and I ran wild with in attempts to rouse his jealousy; the fights with Ares, the pubescent Archer stuck in between; the astounding level of anger and wrath that erupted from Ares that terrified Archer and me. With all these reminders, it appeared hopeless. Our history was against us. How was I to overcome that in one visit? Why must I love the one god who would not only complicate my life and feelings beyond any reasonable understanding, but also the one who would hurt me the most in the end? Every time Ares and I parted, I felt a piece of me die.
I excused myself from the festivities and retired to my room. I stepped out onto the balcony and watched the waves crash upon the beach. I found the lulling of the surf a strange comfort that helped me think clearly. I had to do what was asked of me, and deep down, I had to admit, it was not at all a chore, but a deep-seated and repressed desire. Part of me would forever long for Ares. He was my soul mate, which was why we had married immortally; we would be linked together the rest of our existence, and I could never force myself to regret that decision. He had insisted we do so to prove our bond stronger than the one I’d had with Hephie, which it was.
I needed to call Ares. I closed my eyes and mentally tore down the layers of stone walls that surrounded a
nd protected my all-too-sensitive heart. Love would fall in love again, whether she wanted to or not.
I pulled out my phone to look up the number I had saved but never yet used. Phones were always supplied by Zeus, and our new aliases, numbers, and emails updated through encrypted group messaging. I was nervous, feeling like an adolescent calling my crush to ask him out. My hands shook as I selected the name “Ari” in my phone that I pored over almost every day yet never had the guts to call or text. My finger trembled as I pressed the call button, and I felt my stomach stir sourly and my heart palpitate. I hadn’t heard that voice in so long…
“Dite?” I heard his voice whisper in disbelief.
“Ares,” I breathed back, the nervousness ebbing away. “I want to come see you.”
“S-sure,” he said awkwardly, “Is everything all right? Eros?” I could tell he was surprised and worried at the same time. Leave it to Ares to think the worst.
“He is fine and in New York, but I’m in Fiji, visiting your parents. You ought to come see them, you know? I think your mother misses you. She’d hardly admit that, but I could tell. She still hates me, the old cow. Anyway, it just brought back memories. Reminded me of our Olympus days. Thought maybe, since I was on this side of the world with Hermes at my disposal…would you mind me coming? Just for a few days?”
“No, I think that would be nice…yeah,” he said softly. He didn’t sound at all like the warmongering madman I’d stormed out on so long ago. This was the side of the sly fox that I had trouble denying, the one who had led me away from my first husband.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Impose on what, Dite?” He laughed. Imagining his bright smile made my stomach flop.
I wanted to say that I didn’t want to interrupt him and his favorite lover, war, but I was supposed to be coming in peace. I had to gauge the competition, although I could easily win him from any woman. “I mean, if you’re, you know, with someone…”
“No,” he answered quickly. “There’s no one.”
I sighed, relieved. I don’t know why I was so relieved, but I felt myself relax. Ares laughed lightly again. It was always games with us. He could see through me; it might become one of those visits. He had craftily established that I did not need help nor wish to fight.
“How and when are you arriving, darling?” He broke an uncomfortable silence.
“Hermes will deliver me to an airport to keep up appearances, but which is the closest one to you?”
Ares gave me the details and said he’d take care of all other arrangements for me. His businesslike tone made me fear that this trip might be made in vain. But how else did I expect him to be? The last time we were together, in the 1930s, I’d left him in the middle of the night and never looked back. In my defense, WWII was on the horizon, and I could tell he was being pulled and inflamed more by the conflict than his wife.
The next morning, Hermes took me to Afghanistan, where my Ares was camped out, creating havoc. By the beard of Zeus, mortals would tear each other apart limb by limb without Ares’s help. I had no idea how I would convince him to stop interfering with mortals and their ridiculous wars and politics, but I had to try.
Ares surprised me by showing up himself. He usually sent a car, some random goon to take me into some horrid battle campground. He was exactly as I remembered: a staggering six-five and about two hundred and eighty pounds of pure brawn and muscle; truly terrifying on ancient battlefields. Nowadays, he passed as an average high school football player since humans were evolving over the ages, getting bigger. Ares was olive in complexion, always beautifully tan, his hair thick, wavy, and the color of kohl mixed with henna, which he had let grow long. His eyes were large and set deep in his brow, with a fiery brownish-amber hue that eerily glowed when he felt profound emotions. He had a prominent Greek nose, large, but fitting with his other angular features, a strong square jawline, and thin, serious lips that rarely turned up in smiles—except when he beheld me. Naturally.
“Aphrodite.” He blinded me with his gorgeous smile and those intense eyes. He pulled me into a hug and then gave me the once-over, smoothing my hair.
I felt my frigid heart spark to life, and the walls began to crumble. “Aroha Ambrose,” I corrected.
“Lieutenant General Ari Ranjit,” he told me the alias he was going by. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Can’t a woman want to see her husband every now and then?” I stroked his face with my fingers, feeling the need to touch him. He was a magnet to me. I was enticed and immutably drawn. How had I denied seeing this face for so long? All thoughts left my mind, except ones including him.
“Ex-husband, I thought,” he replied, twirling my hair between his fingers. I tried to dispel memories of him doing the same to my hair in warm, cozy beds and focus on his words. Ex, he had pointed out. He was being cautious.
“Well, immortally married means bound forever, whether you like it or not,” I told him teasingly.
His jaw tightened as his eyes searched my face for something. He swallowed hard. He was just as simultaneously terrified and tempted as I was, which comforted me. He wanted to jump right in and kiss me but was holding back. He was afraid of getting hurt, which we constantly did to each other. Ares, for all the strife, anger, aggression, and hate that fueled him, was actually a teddy bear on the inside. Aside from our son, he was probably one of the most romantic gods in existence.
“I never said I didn’t like it. Just thought you considered ‘us’ over with. You were the last one to walk away, so the ball’s in your court.” He was smug and so cunning to force me to make the move. It was always a game with him.
However, I had tricks up my sleeve too. “Could you blame me? World War II, Ares?” I sighed sadly. Trick one: guilt trip.
“Quite the masterpiece, wasn’t it?” he said proudly.
“You wiped out a good portion of the human race.” Trick two: the artful pout. It made me even more irresistible. I shouldn’t start the bickering already, but it irked me how he could justify war and death so easily.
“You don’t condemn Demeter, Zeus, or Artemis.” He frowned as we made our way to his car. I tried to ignore that the car was armored and bulletproof. I couldn’t help but be as frightened for myself as I was for Ares in every modern battle. The intensity of heat created by these modern bombs could be enough to kill even us immortals.
“You always try that card,” I coyly bantered back.
“Yes, well, the human race needs to be limited from time to time. You know what happens to too many rats in a cage—”
“Yes dear,” I cut him off before continuing his lecture for him, “—war, pestilence, famine, and natural disasters. Let us not talk of war.”
He opened the car door for me and climbed in after. He had a driver.
Tricks one and two hadn’t panned out too well. Onto tricks three and four: flirt and flatter.
“It was nice of you to meet me personally.” I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, bit my lip, and twirled my hair.
Ares grabbed my fingers to make them stop twirling. The ephemeral light in his eyes dimmed down. He caught on, now that I was being too artful, and his dazzling grin dropped. Had I lost all my charisma?
I changed the subject. “Where will I be staying?”
“I’ve got a hotel room for you.” He played with my hair himself. No campground tent, another surprise: he wanted my stay to be comfortable. “The war front is too dangerous for you. And please, please, keep yourself covered in public.” He handed me a beautiful scarf.
“I truly think these people quite odd. Why hide beauty?” I protested.
He took the scarf and wrapped it for me over my hair. “All different people have their ways. I suppose they wish to keep their wives’ charms to themselves. I could understand that.” He pulled my lightweight jacket closed and buttoned it to cover my chest and neck.
I acquiesced that with a nod.
“You’re still amazing,�
� he murmured.
Trick five: show you care.
“I still worry about you,” I told him softly. “These nuclear weapons and all.”
“I’d never die darling. I couldn’t allow it. Your soul is bound to mine. If I am harmed, you are. That thought keeps me from being rash.” He ran his finger along my cheek. Every time he touched me, I felt alive, vulnerable, and smitten.
“Good thing then. Someone’s gotta keep you in line.”
He turned away with a laugh and peered out the window. “How I have missed you, Dite.”
Once he had me settled in my room, he ordered room service. Ares always, at least in the wooing phases, went all out for me. Five-star hotels, lobster dinners, and champagne. Tonight, he didn’t let me down. I started to suspect Zeus likewise ordered him to reunite with me. Zeus was all about control. Any direct order from him was almost impossible to deny; some force within all of us, like the ichor in our blood, demanded obedience. And he most likely wanted us together to control Archer better, but why did he dislike Callie?
Best trick of all: be yourself. That one would have to work.
“Ares, you shouldn’t have,” I told him as he pulled the chair out for me at the table on the balcony. “This is all too much. This is new.”
“You being spoiled to death? Oh, that is something you’ve never experienced,” he said with heavy sarcasm.
“Ha ha.”
“I know how you love seafood,” he mused as he sat down before pouring the champagne. He was forever fascinated that I’d sprung from the sea fully grown.
I honestly cannot remember my childhood, but imagine I was one of Oceanus’s children who somehow broke through the barrier. Each of the three Olympian brothers had his domain—a territory—and his offspring and subjects remained in that domain: Zeus had the sky and surface of the earth, Poseidon had the seas and Atlantis, and Hades had the Underworld. None of us are meant to enter another’s domain without Zeus’s permission, besides the rare teleporters, but somehow, I had slipped through. Athena, the smartest of us all, believed that I had to be a descendant of Oceanus and some Olympian or Titan god, able to break through Zeus’s barrier that was meant to oppress and contain Posiedon and his descendants. No one came forward to claim me, so I gave up searching for my parents a millennium ago.
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