Innovation's Muse (Truth's Harem)

by Allyson Lindt

The about-face cranked Lexi’s suspicion to Maximum. “Just like that? You’re not going to negotiate?”

  Icarus shrugged. “Nothing to negotiate. I’ll hear you out, as in, you’ll explain that Zeus wants me to spin my wheels on another prison that can’t contain your father. Then, when I’ve listened, you’ll tell me everything about the events leading up to your successfully making a pact with a servant.”

  “Define everything.” Lexi didn’t mind a good barter. Not like what Zeus forced her into, but this seemed fair.

  “Careful.” Cerberus said the word at the same time he thought it. The echo was jarring.

  Icarus crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “Everything is everything. Yes or no?”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Cerberus stepped in front of Lexi and stalked toward Icarus. A growl cut through his voice. “You want to hear about the death? The betrayal? The sex—”

  “You’re not deterring me.” Icarus stood his ground.

  Cerberus paused with only a few inches between them. “The years of online chatting that frequently broke down into giggles and winky faces? You want a play-by-play of the late-night geeking out—”

  “No. Fuck no. Yawn?” Icarus sighed. “You don’t have any idea how you made the bond.”

  Lexi shook her head. “Cerberus was dying, and I didn’t want him to. A bunch of words were exchanged... I may have threatened a few gods. Not that any of them heard me except for Artemis.”

  “I’d have paid to see that. Are there actually any details to share?”

  If Lexi said no, would he shut her down? It didn’t matter. She’d made Zeus’ request, and nothing more was required of her. Except she hadn’t expected to be intrigued by this man.

  Because that was what she needed—to be fantasizing about another hero. Not.

  “It was stressful. It hurt like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I can offer those details.” Cerberus’ voice was strained. Whispers of that agony ran between him and Lexi, gnawing at her bones and aching in her soul. She hated that he’d gone through that.

  It was also the first thing she’d felt from him since he walked in the shop. He was shutting her out.

  “My answer is no, to the new prison for Hades question.” Icarus almost sounded apologetic. “Kill the bastard. Don’t try to lock him up again.”

  “Zeus said that wasn’t possible.” If she pushed this angle, could she glean enough information from Icarus to decipher Zeus’ lie?

  “He’d know better than I do, but I suspect there’s a way.”

  That wasn’t helpful. “So that’s it? We’re done?” The entire exchange was easy. Straightforward. Lexi should let it go.

  Icarus shrugged. “You can’t help me. I can’t help you. So, uh... ciao, toots?”

  “Great. Thanks.” Cerberus hooked an arm around Lexi’s waist and steered her out of the store.

  The familiar contact shoved the odd conversation with Icarus to the back of her mind. Making things right with Cerberus was far more important. A pain grew in her chest at the idea of fighting with him. The moment they were outside, she turned to face him. “Now, can we talk?”

  “Sure. Never do that to me again.” The edge was back in his voice, slicing through her.

  “Do... what?”

  “Make me choose between protecting you and obeying you.”

  Oh. She should have guessed that the couple of hours that passed since they left the mob behind were more likely to aggravate Cerberus than calm him.

  “What were you going to do? Start biting arms off? They couldn’t hurt me,” she said.

  His growl was like sandpaper over her hurt. “None of us is actually immortal. You remember that time when I nearly died? You don’t know how far your powers extend. What if the angry mob had ripped you apart?”

  Underneath the anger and frustration, she felt his hurt. His concern. That sliver of fear that he could still lose her.

  She understood that worry. Lexi didn’t want to imagine life without Cerberus. “I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

  “What did you think it would do? You can’t make a habit of decisions like this. It will get you killed.”

  “That’s my choice.” She hid a wince. The words came out wrong. She didn’t want to die, but she wouldn’t be responsible for letting him kill others.

  “And you take my decision away by ordering me to act against my will.”

  No. She wouldn’t let him spin this back on her. “I’m sorry you’re upset. I’m not sorry about what I did.”

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to be. I’ll see you at home.” He turned away.

  Unbelievable. She was trying to talk this through, and he was pouting? “You’re just going to storm off in a huff?”

  “I’m going to take care of business. Believe it or not, I had a life before you, and it didn’t cease to exist because you came along.”

  The retort knocked the air from her lungs and left her speechless. All she could do was watch him walk away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Actaeon trekked back to Apollo’s house, and hammered on the door for several minutes. There was no answer.

  He called Artemis, to see if she had any insight into the Cassandra event. There was no answer.

  He was starting to see a pattern.

  So he’d tried to take his mind off the evening by reading. He couldn’t focus. When he heard the front door snick open, relief trickled through him. Lexi and Cerberus’ company would be a welcome distraction.

  The door slammed shut, and his relief evaporated.

  Cerberus wasn’t here. Actaeon only smelled Lexi. A moment later, she stormed past the living room, footfall heavy on her way to the stairs.

  “Whoa.” He called, keeping his tone light. “Are you all right? Where’s the puppy?”

  Lexi whirled. “Holy fuck. Could you not, with the stupid fucking nickname, every fucking chance you get?”

  Actaeon held up his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s habit. I’ll try to stop.

  “I can’t believe you had to be asked. He’s told you he doesn’t like it.”

  Whatever Actaeon had walked into, he was ready to backpedal out. Thank Athena she wasn’t throwing balls of sunshine, like Cassandra had. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “No. How was your not-date?” Snideness filled her question.

  “She tried to blow up a waitress, and Apollo intervened.”

  Lexi gave a barking laugh and crossed her arms. “Bummer. So sorry to hear it.”

  Her frustration and hurt and disappointment washed over him. He might not share an emotional bond with her, the way Cerberus did, but she radiated a jumble of feelings. None of them was sympathy.

  The bulk of her feelings might be directed at whatever happened with Cerberus, but Actaeon suspected he had a little part in how she felt. “I’m sorry I went.” He poured sincerity into his words.

  “Because your dead girlfriend tried to blow you up?” Her words were harsh, but some of the tension faded from her posture. She may not like what he had to say, and that was her right, but at least he’d know that he meant it.

  “Because it hurt you. Because she doesn’t deserve my attention. Because she’s my past, and I want you to be part of my future.”

  Lexi frowned and let her arms fall to her sides. “You don’t owe me anything. I can’t expect you to structure your world around my feelings.” But the catch in her voice said she didn’t mind the consideration.

  He was a fucking idiot. Cassandra had showed up, and instinct told him to help. It seemed like listening to that instinct got him in trouble as often as not. “What you think and feel is important to me. I shouldn’t have let her influence that.”

  Lexi rubbed her face and exhaled noisily through her fingers. “I don’t have a comeback. Yay, I guess?”

  He hated seeing her this way. “What happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “L
ike you care.”

  “You know I do. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He wanted to cross the distance between them and wrap her up. Fight away whatever was eating her. He doubted it was the kind of thing he could fire an arrow through, though.

  “Why?” Desperation leaked into her voice. “Why do you care? How do I know you won’t turn around and run back to Cassandra the moment her day is worse?” It wasn’t a hostile question. She searched his face.

  He deserved that. “I won’t. I promise. I care because I care.”

  Lexi hugged herself. “You barely know me. Every time you say you’re done with me, you change your mind. Why?”

  He hated to hear her phrase things that way. He untangled her arms, to grasp her fingers. Some of the lines faded from her forehead. “I’m not done with you. That’s not what happened with Cassandra. I...” How was he going to phrase it differently than before?

  “Feel responsible for her. I know. I heard.” Lexi clenched her jaw.

  That wouldn’t do.

  He guided her to the couch, sat down, and tried to pull her into his lap. She sat next to him instead.

  That was fair. He didn’t like it, but he got it. “You and me getting to know each other comes with time, and we have a lot of that. But you’re not the only one fumbling your way through things.”

  “But...” She sighed.

  He waited for more, until he realized she wasn’t going to finish the thought. Actaeon draped an arm over her shoulder. His relief when she didn’t pull away was more potent than he expected. “I don’t know what I feel for you. It’s not fate. Don’t think I’m doing this because I buy into the notion that a red string means I should care. I want to know more about you, and figure out what this is. I like having you around.”

  “What if you get tired of me?”

  What had he done to make her ask that? Stick up for the woman who killed her mother. Yeah, that had been stupid. “I don’t see it, but I can’t promise.”

  She stiffened, and he kissed the top of her head.

  “Don’t discount whatever this is because it’s not set in stone,” he said. “I’m up for giving it a chance if you are.”

  “I kind of wish I could call you a liar and mean it. That would make this easier.”

  “I won’t apologize for telling you how I feel. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  Lexi draped her legs over his, as she leaned her back against the arm of the couch. She looked at him. “We went to the market, like you suggested, and it was a lot of fun.”

  “Until...?”

  “Someone recognized me. Things turned ugly—mobs of people backing me into a corner ugly—and I ordered Cerberus not to hurt anyone. He got mad, a bunch of other stuff happened that made things worse, and he walked away pissed off and said he’d be home later.”

  “Ah.” He understood without question Cerberus had been upset. And if the hellhound snapped at Lexi, it made sense she was angry in response.

  “You’re going to take his side.” The hurt in her voice wasn’t as potent as before, but it was back.

  He rested his hands on her legs, pulling up her jeans enough to rub a thumb over her ankle. “I’d tear someone apart for you. Before you ask, I can’t tell you why, except that I would. I begged my mother for asylum for you. I was willing to try to kill Hades—”

  “That wasn’t for me. That was to save people.”

  “It was to save you.” Yes, the others mattered, but he couldn’t deny what his primary motivation had been.

  “So you are taking Cerberus’ side.”

  Actaeon didn’t see it that way. “I’m pretty sure I’m taking your side. You want me to be mad at the pup—at Cerberus, and I will be.”

  “No. Don’t twist things that way.” A hint of warning leaked into her voice.

  “Fine. I understand where you’re both coming from. This is a fight I can’t take sides in, except that I hate to see you hurting.”

  Lexi dropped her head back and let out a long groan. “What was I supposed to do? Let him tear someone to shreds?”

  “I don’t have an answer for you. How’d you get out of it?”

  “ZEUS ZAPPED US OUT of there before things got ugly. He wanted a favor for a favor.”

  Lexi felt raw inside. Actaeon believed everything he said, but she couldn’t fathom how it was that easy. Jumping to Cassandra’s defense, and then abruptly regretting it. Suddenly knowing what he’d done to piss Lexi off, when he’d glossed over it hours ago.

  When she was growing up, Dad was her confidant to a point, but there were some things wasn’t comfortable sharing with him. There was no one else until Cerberus, and so much of their conversations online had to be limited, to keep her hidden.

  She was learning to open up to him now, but she still held back. There were some things she worried might disappoint him.

  It was different with Actaeon. She felt like she could say whatever was on her mind, but didn’t know if that was a good thing.

  “What Zeus he ask for?” Actaeon’s touch was comforting. It sent energy zooming through her, and chased away the shadows in the corners of her mind. When he was on her side, it was nice.

  When he wasn’t... Was she being childish about Cassandra? No. If she was just an ex-girlfriend, maybe. But the things Cassandra had done...

  She couldn’t tumble down that hole. She needed to talk, Actaeon was listening.

  “He wanted me to talk to this Icarus guy. To ask him to make a new maze. Zeus said it had to be me because I needed to apologize for breaking the last one. But that didn’t seem to make a difference.” Her apology hadn’t quite been sincere. She suspected that wouldn’t have mattered.

  Actaeon raised an eyebrow, and his grip tightened slightly on her ankle. “So Zeus waited until you were out with Cerberus, just the two of you, and he had a chance to get you to owe him. I can tell you why.”

  “Enlighten me.” She wasn’t in the mood for anymore guessing games.

  “You met him, didn’t you? Icarus? You talked to him for a few minutes?”

  “Yes...” She wished it had been longer. Not that it mattered.

  “It’s been more than a week since you formed the servant’s bond with Cerberus. By this point, everyone in the pantheon knows about it, and they all want to know how you did it.”

  It was too simple. “He did seem hung up on that.”

  “It’s that simple.” Actaeon echoed her thoughts. “And it’s why Zeus sent you and Cerberus. Icarus told you no today, but he’s going to keep coming back to you and the situation, until he has an answer.”

  She shouldn’t like that idea. She should be focused on mending things with Cerberus and figuring out what the fuck was going on with Actaeon. The last thing her heart needed was to be lusting after some random third guy, and hoping he’d ask for another chance to talk to her.

  “Awesome.” She kept her tone flat.

  Actaeon gave her a dry smile. “If you’d like another opportunity to talk to Icarus, I can put you in front of him. Fifty-fifty chance you’ll get a better response with me there than you did with the dog.”

  “Seriously?” She twisted her mouth at the hound reference.

  “Habit.” He almost sounded apologetic.

  “Say I do want another shot at talking to him.” There was no question. She wasn’t going to show that card, though. “What falls on the other side of that fifty percent?”

  Actaeon’s wince was telling. “He refuses to ever see you again. But I’m going to a funeral tomorrow, and he’ll be there. It’s for a mutual friend.”

  That sounded inappropriate. “I’d rather not discuss politics—what would you call it?—while relatives are mourning their loved ones.”

  “It’s the best place for civility. After more than three-thousand years, funerals are footnotes. Gatherings for the living.”

  She shivered in spite of herself. She hadn’t attended many funerals in her life, but Dad’s still haunted her dreams and devoured her psyc
he when she dwelled too long on his death. “You make it sound so cold.”

  “George—the man who passed away—is with his partner in the afterlife. They’re reunited and happy together. Do you want me to mourn that?”

  “No.” Envy spiked inside at the reminder that death meant being reunited for most people. For everyone in her life it had just been an end. “I’d like to go with you...”

  “But?”

  “I don’t own any dresses.” Or much of anything. If it didn’t fit in her backpack, she left it behind. It was an excuse, but it sounded good. She didn’t want to be surrounded by mourners. Fake. Obligatory. Oblivious.

  “I’m sure I have something you can borrow.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that. “They’re not Cassandra’s old clothes, are they? You didn’t keep them from way back when, in case you did find her?”

  “I didn’t save Cassandra’s things, and I wouldn’t offer you her clothing. I’ve hung on to some of Artemis’ things.”

  Lexi laughed, partly with relief that he easily rebuffed her concern, but cut it short when she realized he was serious. “You want me to wear your mother’s dress?”

  “She’s not using it and she’s got good taste.”

  “That’s not weird to you?” Lexi wasn’t picky about where her outfits came from, as long as they were clean, but this seemed odd.

  Actaeon’s raised eyebrows implied he believed otherwise. “Sisters share clothes. Mothers and daughters. Friends. If it’s a big deal, we can go shopping. Or you could illusion yourself up something.”

  He made it sound so benign. This was one thing she was willing to admit wasn’t worth overreacting to. “If no one minds, it wouldn’t hurt to look.”

  “I promise, if you’ve never worn a Rhapso creation, you’re in for a pleasant surprise. Nothing fits like nymph clothing.” He extracted himself from under her legs, stood, and tugged her to her feet. “Come on.”

  Lexi let him lead her toward the rear of the house, to a room she hadn’t been in yet.

  “Are you free?” Cerberus’ tentative question nudged her thoughts.

  Relief tricked inside, but she wasn’t willing to let it reign. “Actaeon’s letting me shop for dresses in his closet.” That was appropriately vague and casual. She hoped.