by Amelia Wilde
He laughs long and hard. “The two of you are damn fools. Always crawling up my ass with one dumbshit problem after another. What is it this time?”
“Demeter’s taken a number of my people hostage.” This next part kills me to say. “I need your help getting them back.”
I hear nothing but wind and sea.
“No.” Poseidon’s voice has dropped to a growl even I find vaguely threatening. “Do you want to die? Is that it? You wanted to ask me that so I’d sail in and finish the job for you?”
“I want you to sail in with some of your men and help me save women from a certain death, Poseidon. She’s already picking them off.”
“And whose fault is that?” he says irritably, and it’s a slice to the soft part of the belly. “You taught her all that fucked-up shit.”
I rub at my forehead and think calming thoughts about ledgers and balanced columns. “I didn’t, but if you want to blame me for her, then do it. Blame me all you want. Just—” Morning light glows in the office window. “When can you be here?”
This is a long shot and my throat ties itself up into a hard knot. Poseidon hates Demeter in a clean, uncut way. I’ve never asked what she did to him.
“I’m not stepping foot on land for her,” he says.
“It’s not for her, it’s for me.”
“That’s worse.”
“Fuck off.”
“Gladly,” he says.
“Don’t hang up.” He doesn’t. “I’ll owe you.”
Another long pause. Long enough for my heart to pump a bolt of worry through my veins. “I can be there in nine hours.” The call clicks off after that, and I’m left with the crash of the ocean in my ears.
15
Brigit
We decide that I should look disheveled, out of sorts. Desperate. I should look like I’m on Zeus’s doorstep. No cardigan this time. Zeus personally oversees applying the dirty makeup and ruining my hair while we practice a script for what I should say. It eats up hours. I can’t get the minutes to stop flying away. They refuse to be pinned down.
James and the others are in and out but I can’t concentrate on what they’re doing. Zeus looks at me in the mirror. “This is a terrible idea.”
“I think it’s a good idea. It’ll make her more willing to talk to you if she thinks she has something you want.”
“She does have something I want.” He works his fingers through my hair again. “And if you go in there, she’ll have everything I need.”
“It’ll only be a few minutes,” I tell him. That’s the plan. To draw her attention without getting everyone else killed. To stall for a short time so that Poseidon’s people can get the girls out. “And then you’ll be there.”
“Ah, yes. Because my psychopath of a sister is going to see me and immediately agree to go back to her fields and live happily ever after.”
I catch his eyes again in the mirror. “I don’t think she has to agree. You’re way bigger than she is.” His hand tenses in my hair, the calm mask slipping again. “But you don’t want to hurt her.”
A sharp laugh. “I don’t want to hesitate if the moment calls for it.”
But he might hesitate. Because after all this time he’s still awake in the middle of the night measuring half cups of noodles for the little girl she used to be.
James sticks his head into the bathroom. “He’s here,” he says. “It’s time.”
There’s a small convoy of cars to take us to meet Poseidon by the city docks. He’s obvious the second we get there—the tallest man on the docks by far. He has a swimmer’s body, muscled and lean, but he looks more storm than man. Zeus and I go with James in a very bizarre welcoming committee. Poseidon narrows his eyes as we approach. “Who’s this?”
“Brigit.” Zeus stands very close to me, one hand on the small of my back. He wears an easy smile and I recognize it from the floor of the whorehouse on a bad night.
“Bait?”
Zeus’s fist clenched behind my back. “A distraction,” he says.
Poseidon looks at him now. “I’m not touching her.”
“I’d kill you if you did,” Zeus says lightly.
“I’m talking about Demeter.” Poseidon’s eyes flash. “I’m not going into the room.”
“And you won’t have to.” Somehow, Zeus turns reassurance into a mocking taunt. “I’ll make sure you’re all right.”
Poseidon glares at him, eyes almost black, and then he bursts out laughing. “You unbelievable fuck. No wonder Hades hates you.”
“That’s not true. He recently joined me for dinner.”
“Who swung first?” Poseidon punches Zeus on the shoulder, and Zeus rocks back on his heels. A subtle motion, but—I didn’t think that would ever happen. “You or him?”
“Persephone,” Zeus says. This has a noticeable effect on Poseidon. It’s like watching a light go out in his expression. But then it’s back on, and he’s shoving past Zeus on the docks.
“Let’s go retrieve the whores,” he says as he goes. “And remember—you owe me, you bastard.”
The wait until nightfall is the longest wait of my life. Zeus doesn’t love it, either. He can’t stop touching me. Rearranging my hair. Checking to make sure the slim knife he’s given me is in its holster. The knife is a last-minute addition. No one thinks Demeter has metal detectors, so I should be able to make it inside with one option for getting back out.
It ends in the back of an SUV, with Zeus kissing me carefully so he doesn’t screw up the makeup. We’re down to mere seconds when he presses his forehead against mine. “Don’t do anything reckless,” he orders. “You have to come back to me.”
“You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
James knocks on the window and my body springs into action. Time to go. But Zeus catches my wrist. “I love you. Every second you’re gone is fucking agony.”
“I love you, too. Close your eyes and count to ten.”
He doesn’t do it, but I get out of the SUV anyway. Zeus has to wait for the signal from Poseidon before he comes in.
I can see Poseidon’s people waiting in the shadows, all around the building, and a pricking awareness makes my gut go cold. How can she not have noticed them? Zeus’s men are there, too, divided into different teams. One to search the girls for trackers or bombs. One to take anyone who wants to go to the train station. One to take the rest to a small safe house in the city. And one for me. There are enough people to fight, if we have to.
She’s just one woman, I remind myself as James walks me to the corner of the building, kisses my cheek, and points me toward the front entrance.
It’s time to put on a show.
I stumble a little outside the front doors, but no one’s waiting inside to see. The first floor is empty, the light dim, and my heart races. One foot, then the other, up the stairwell to the ballroom upstairs, where Demeter’s show is already in progress. Zeus told me what he saw from the building across the street. I’m prepared for it.
Right up to the moment I get to the second-floor landing and see the men clustered at the door to the ballroom.
In one sense, this is a good thing. It will let Poseidon’s people blend in with the crowd and extract the girls one by one. Slowly. With great care.
But I don’t see how we can do it slowly, because the sounds coming from that room are inhuman.
At Olympus the parties looked like parties. They had music and dancing and food and wine. For the most part, they were civilized.
The only music now is the twisted melody of someone crying.
Not just crying—sobbing. It’s edged in a scream.
I put a tentative smile on my face anyway, which feels sickeningly wrong. Horribly wrong. My legs threaten to buckle but I will that feeling away and approach the group of men. The only thing to do is to get close, to slide my body near theirs and wriggle through the empty spaces. “Excuse me,” I murmur. “Excuse me. I’m so sorry.”
They barely notice me.
They’
re focused on the show.
And—I can’t take another step, once I’m inside the doorway.
I expected it to include my father—I was warned. But I didn’t think he would be doing this. Horror turns my stomach.
He’s standing in the middle of the room, a leather strap in his hand, looming over a girl on the floor. It’s Savannah. She’s naked, and bruises bloom all over her body. A collar around her neck is attached to a long leash that ends in Demeter’s hand. I fight off the urge to cover my face with my hands. He’s been beating her for quite some time, but Demeter has recruited Alicia, my former roommate, to pin her wrists to the carpet so she can’t get away.
I’m supposed to go straight to Demeter, fall to my knees, and cry.
Change of plans.
16
Brigit
“Daddy,” I cry, and I’m in motion again, raising my arms for him, letting tears fill my eyes. They’re real tears. This is a fucked-up, awful place, and the energy from the men in the room is menacing at best. They’re all just waiting for their turn with these women and Demeter lets them do it. “Daddy, I’m so sorry.”
He turns his head toward me, blinking. His nose is still bruised from when Zeus punched him. It gives me a flicker of satisfaction, which is quickly shoved away by revulsion.
I hate him.
I’m disgusted by him.
But phase one of my new plan doesn’t involve throwing up on the carpet.
It involves this.
I pick up speed and run into my father. We actually collide. He’s not prepared for the hug and I’m not prepared to give it but I wrap my arms around him anyway. He reeks of alcohol and it doesn’t help that he gets his act together and pulls me in tight. “Daddy,” I say into his shirt. I haven’t called him that since I was five, but I can feel his delighted surprise. Over his shoulder, I can see James’s husband in the corner, his back against the wall. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
“What are you doing here?” He sounds genuinely shocked to see me, and for the first time in my life I realize that my father is a terrible man, but he is also very stupid. “Brigit, honey, you’re dirty.”
He takes a step back from me and brushes at his jacket. I let my lower lip tremble. On the floor, Savannah is frozen. Alicia, too. And slowly, very slowly, Alicia starts to inch to the side. “I can’t help it.”
“That man did this to you.” He inspects his jacket for any trace of filth. “Is that what happened?”
“Yes,” a voice says. “What did my brother do?”
For the first time, I summon the courage to look at Demeter.
My heart skips a beat.
She looks exactly like Persephone. Slightly older, but the same hair, same eyes. Even their voices are a near match. But the expression in her eyes—
I have to suppress a shiver. I have to plant my feet to keep from running.
All the humanity has been burned away from her eyes. They’re a stunning silver shade but utterly empty. Devoid of warmth.
And then she smiles, and I see the illusion of it—the way she convinces people to go along with what she says. A person who didn’t know better would mistake it for something genuine. There’s something off about the way she’s sitting. “He hurt me,” I tell her solemnly, and her eyes widen in a parody of shock. “He ruined me for everything that’s good in the world.”
Good—this is going well. This is a longer conversation than I thought we would get. My father hovers close by, but not close enough to touch me. He doesn’t want to touch me. I drop my face into my hands. Please, please, let the rest of the plan be in motion. They should be working their way from the outside in. I don’t dare turn around to see if any of the movement has entered the ballroom.
“That’s why I’m here.” I let the tears fall now, trying my best to cry prettily. Cal is moving now, too, working his way to his feet. To the exit. “I have nowhere else to go, because I’ll never be anything but a whore. Please. Help me.” I step over Savannah and fall to the carpet in front of her like she’s a queen. A mad queen.
“Brigit,” hisses my father. “What are you doing?”
I ignore him. “Let me work for you. Please. It’s the only thing I can do.”
“No.” My father shouts this, bringing the low chatter in the room to a sudden halt. The next moment he’s standing over me, his face almost purple, lips twisted in disgust. “You’re not a whore. Don’t act like one.”
“But I am, Daddy.” More tears, more sobs. “I am a whore. I’m a slut for it, and I just—I need to do this. It’s all I want.”
He brandishes the strap at me, holding it high in the air, and I scream. The tension in the air is razor-sharp, and I scramble along the floor to Demeter and throw myself at her feet, wrapping one arm tight around her leg. “Don’t let him do it,” I howl. “Don’t let him.”
She drops a hand onto my head and it’s all I can do not to wrench myself away. “Darling,” she says. “How else will you prove yourself to me?”
I turn my face up to hers and she beams down at me. I can see her surrounded in flowers. A monster in a flower wreath. “What do you mean?”
“If you’re not willing to accept your father’s consequences, how will I know you really want to be here?” The corners of her mouth turn down. “For all I know, my brother sent you.”
“I came here by myself,” I say fiercely. “And I’ll do whatever it takes.” Alicia and Savannah scramble out of the way now, because I’m coming, I’m hiding the rolling terror with decisive action. In the center of the space I get down on my knees. At the last second I wrap my arms around my body and let out a choked sob. “Can the girls help me? Please?”
“No.” Demeter waves a hand. “Clients only.”
They’re wolves, and they’re ready, and in seconds a tight circle of men has surrounded me, leaving only a small space for Demeter to look on. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alicia looking back the way I came. She starts shifting in that direction, inch by inch. Savannah is still attached to Demeter by the leash.
It has to be working.
This has to be worth it.
Behind me, my father hesitates.
I look up at him with my chin quivering, tears running freely down my cheeks. What the hell is he going to do?
“You’d be doing her a favor,” purrs Demeter. “If you showed her what it costs to be a whore.” My father jerks his head up to look at her. “Punish her now,” she says magnanimously, “and when she’s learned her lesson with me, I’ll return her to you. She’ll be better trained then. Worth more.”
I’ll be dead, is what I’ll be. He can’t possibly agree to this.
My father gives Demeter a slow nod.
I’m falling through the floor, dropping straight down as far as I can go.
My father steps around behind me, and Demeter gives another signal.
And then there are hands—so many hands, reaching for me. I’m going to be sick, and die. Or I’m just going to die. The first pair of hands makes contact, and my brain shuts off. Don’t remember this. Don’t remember any part of this. Don’t think about how they’re going to arrange you, don’t think about anything—
A laugh stops them dead. The hands on my body freeze and lift away. “Oh, Demeter,” says Zeus. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
17
Zeus
The crowd melts away, taking flight, and I mark the tight clutch of cops who have gathered around Brigit and ignore the seething urge to break their necks one by one. It can wait. They back away from her and press themselves tight to the wall, blinking. It’s only men in here now. Men. Brigit. Savannah.
It was too easy to get the rest of them out. Poseidon’s men only had to incapacitate three guards outside and the men at the door scattered when they realized what was happening.
My heartbeat slows as I step over Brigit. It’s been a wild animal all this time. No more. I could never allow myself to get rattled on the floor at the whorehouse and I wo
n’t allow it now.
I step over Brigit, who’s kneeling on the carpet, her own body appearing calm.
Demeter turns her huge, silver eyes on me and cocks her head to the side. A little smile plays across her lips. It’s the smile that freezes the pit of my belly. Yes. It was too easy. The real danger is in here, with her.
“Gotten myself into?” The giggle that escapes her is the corrupted version of the way she used to laugh as a girl. She pulls the hand with the leash close to her chest. “I’m not into anything, Z, just having some fun. Like you.”
I roll my eyes and scoff at her, good-natured, amused. “No people, Demeter. Only birds. Give me that.” I’m close to her chair now, holding my hand out, watching her every move. A place in my chest collapses at the sight of her. She’s pretty, the way she always was, but her eyes are dead things, animated with a spark that looks like a fever. She’s sick. She’s fucking sick.
And I couldn’t stop it from happening.
She giggles again and unwraps the leash, throwing it petulantly into my palm and dropping back into her seat. “Happy now?”
I return the smile and her own gets wider. “You have no idea how pleased I am.”
Demeter flushes at this, savoring it while Savannah crawls unsteadily toward me, past me. I hold the bundled leash behind my back. Come on, Brigit. See it. They’ll have to take it off out in the hall. It’s more important to get out of Demeter’s sight. The leash lifts out of my hand a moment later and I catch a glimpse of Brigit in the corner of my eye. They’re the last two people.
“I’m so mad at you,” Demeter says, her eyes unfocusing. “You made me do this.”
I get to one knee in front of her chair, the way I did when I would tie her shoes years ago. There was a time when I could do it but she struggled with her small hands. “Demmy, wouldn’t you like to go back to your fields and your plants?” The very last part of this hasty plan is to replace the clients with our own people. “I can take you there now.”