Hearts and Arrows Box Set

by Staci Hart

  Kat buried her head in Kiki’s neck as her tears fell, and no words could find her.

  Owen got in the driver’s seat and slammed the door. They needed to get out of there, and fast. He fired the engine, and it thundered when he pumped the gas and took off.

  Dillon sat stunned in the passenger seat, his voice flat and dead. “I’m sorry, Owen.”

  “It’s okay, Dillon.” Owen shifted gears.

  Dillon’s breath shuddered. “I threw her. I … I almost hit her.”

  “I know.”

  Owen glanced over at Dillon, whose hands shook as he raked them through his hair. “The minute she touched me, as soon as I heard her voice, I came back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She brought me back. You know I can’t stop myself when it’s happening. I thought you were the only person that could stop me. But she can do it, too. If she hadn’t … ”

  Owen looked over at his brother, who stared at his open palms in his lap, his face amazed and broken, healed and hurt, all at once.

  “Dillon, I’m sorry.”

  “She’s never going to want to see me again. Not after that.”

  Owen knew that he was probably right. But he couldn’t say that, and a part of him still had faith that they could work it out, somehow.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Owen said as they flew under the streetlights, wondering how they could, and if they would.

  ———— Olympus ————

  “You dirty fucking bastard.”

  Dita stood fuming in the doorway of Ares’ bedroom, her hair flying around her, her eyes shining blue light. Ares shrugged off his jacket and threw it across an armchair in his bedroom.

  “I told you not to get comfortable,” he said.

  “He could have killed her.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “It would be,” she snarled as her hair whipped around her face.

  Ares cocked his head, sneering as he walked toward her. “Oh, and you’d make it a problem for me?”

  She stepped sideways to circle him. “You know I would.”

  He mirrored her and dropped his arms. “I’d like to see that. I’m sure it’d be adorable.”

  She bared her teeth and shot her hands out, but before she could hit him with her powers, he grabbed her wrists in one hand and lifted them up. He picked her up by the waist and pinned her against the wall.

  Her legs wrapped around him, and he slammed his body into hers. She bit his neck, and he roared, grinding his hips when her lips closed around the wound and sucked hard. When she leaned back, he grabbed her face, squeezed it almost hard enough to hurt her as his lips crushed hers.

  Dita pushed away from the wall and head-butted him, and he staggered back enough that she dropped do her feet, but she wasn’t finished with him. She shoved him, putting all of her weight into it, but he barely moved, only laughed at her. She growled as she charged him, hitting him hard enough that they feel back onto the bed, and she climbed onto his chest, her hair falling all around her when she bent and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He rumbled and rolled her over, pinning her arms above her head to kiss her again. She couldn’t stop her traitorous hips from rolling against his. She hated him. She loved him.

  Ares let her arms go, and his hands moved up her legs, up her waist, not stopping until it was over her head and she was naked.

  He pulled off his clothes as she writhed on the bed, climbed up to her and grasped her hip, flipping her over onto her stomach. She raised up on her knees, arched her back and turned her head, her lips parted as she waited.

  He knelt behind her on the bed, and she moaned when his hand slipped between her legs, circling the pad of his finger around the bundle of nerves. His other hand slowly circled her ass, and when he slipped his finger inside of her, he slapped her, the smack ringing in the room. She screamed, a sound mixed with pleasure and pain.

  “Yes?” He growled.

  “Yes,” she panted.

  He slipped his finger in as he slapped her, and she cried out again. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to own her. He guided his crown, flexing his hips to fill her, slapping her once more as he slid in, but she was already gone, calling his name as she squeezed long and pulsed all around him. And he couldn’t wait, wouldn’t wait. It was too much, and he followed, letting go with a roar.

  Dita’s heart hammered in her ears as Ares traced his hands down her body, leaning down to kiss her shoulder.

  She giggled between ragged breaths. “Gods, Ares. We haven’t hate-fucked in forever.”

  “Mmmm.” He kissed down her back. “Now that he’s gone for good, we can hate-fuck whenever you want. I’ve waited so long for this.”

  Her body tensed, and he froze when he felt it. “What’s that supposed to mean? ‘Gone for good?’”

  He waited a little too long to answer. “Nothing.” He kissed her again. “Now that Apollo has his woman back, I’m hoping that Adonis is gone for good this time. He’s had your attention for a long time, but now you’re all mine.”

  Her heart stopped, and the hair on her arms stood on end.

  He did it.

  She couldn’t move. He killed Adonis. In that moment, she was more certain that she ever had been and wondered why she was there in bed with him. She had proof, all she had to do was drink Mnemosyne’s waters, but she’d been avoiding it. Why? She was over being afraid of the answer. She had the truth in the vessel, and it was time to face it.

  She shrugged out from under him and stood.

  Ares flipped over, his eyes wide, and her heart ached when he said, “Dita, wait.”

  “Don’t be needy.” She feigned apathy. “I’m just tired, Ares. Really. I’ll see you.” She pulled on her dress, then turned to Ares, who she’d been with so long, who she didn’t know at all and who she knew too well. And then she walked away from his bed for the last time.

  Apollo woke with a gasp, and Daphne stirred, curling into him. His heart raced, and he took a deep breath and pulled her close, squeezing his eyes shut as she woke.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.” He kissed her forehead while his heart slowed down. “I’ve had a vision.”

  “What happened?”

  He scooted down and laid his head on her chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she played with his hair. “Eric is going to come for the girls.”

  Her hand froze. “Gods, Apollo. What will you do?”

  “Tell Dita. I’m sure there’s something she can do. I can’t help otherwise unless she pays a token, which you know she won’t do. Not unless she’s out of options.”

  “How will Eric find them?”

  He nestled into her chest, grateful for her warmth, her comfort, after so many hundreds of years alone. “Ares, I suspect. He’s got a firm grip on Eric.”

  “Should you wake her? How long does she have?”

  “She has time. If I wake her now, she won’t sleep. It’ll be light soon. I’ll tell her first thing.”

  “Dita will stop him. I know she will,” she said, her voice full of determination.

  “I hope so.”

  Day 11

  DITA FLOATED ON HER BACK in the pool, her hair suspended in the water around her. She stared at the huge mural on the ceiling of the bright natatorium. Ornate molding and copper ceiling tiles lined the massive painting above. Chandeliers hung around the outside of the long room, and brass candelabras glowed between windows.

  Dita scoured the majestic scene of the Olympians in robes and diadems, floating in the clouds, and she looked for anything that was out of place.

  She passed over Ares standing in his chariot with Eris, Phobos, and Deimos. His pupils were vertical like a snake’s, and his skin was a shade of green with a reptilian texture. She wasn’t touching that.

  Dionysus had been given a mustache like Captain Morgan’s. Someone had crossed Hera’s eyes, warped her smile and taken off her lipstick. Dita wished she could be there when Hera saw it.<
br />
  Her own likeness looked fine at first, until she saw that someone had put her in pants and given her a camel toe. She scowled and pointed at it. Within seconds, she was once again in flowing robes, sans awkward twat wedgie.

  She scanned the scene again, wondering what she should change. She settled on Zeus. As she pointed at him, his robes shrunk and turned pink, and a pink tutu appeared around his waist. His face wore the expression of an angry Russian arms dealer, which made it that much funnier when she put a sparkling tiara on his head.

  She closed her eyes and lowered her body into the warm water that wrapped around her like silk. She swam a few laps underwater, never needing to come up for breath, before she swam to the edge of the pool where Perry sat with her legs in the water.

  “Really? You chose Zeus? That’s so obvious, Dita. Not your best work.”

  Dita shrugged. “Zeus in a tutu? Worth it.” She folded her arms on the concrete wall and rested her chin on her hands.

  “Man, did you flip on Ares last night? I can’t believe Dillon. That was so hard to watch.”

  “Yeah, well, I tried to go after him, but you know how that usually ends up. This time though … ”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “He said something about Adonis being gone for good that rubbed me wrong. I mean, it rubbed me so wrong that I almost drank Mnemosyne’s waters last night.”

  Perry’s eyebrows arched. “Wow.”

  Dita looked down at the tiles that lined the edge of the pool, tracing the grout with her finger. “I don’t know Perry. One minute I’m sure that he did it, and the next … I don’t know. I just … I mean, maybe I’m wrong.”

  Perry snorted. “And maybe Pegasus will fly out of my ass.”

  Dita splashed Perry, who held out her hands.

  “Dita, the only way you’re going to know is to drink it.”

  She rested her chin back on her hands. “I know.”

  Perry eyed her, then changed the subject, mercifully. “What are you going to do about Dillon? Ares really pulled a number on you.”

  “I don’t know. They’re going to need some time to get over this one. Dillon is heartbroken. He’s had all of his fears confirmed, even though she pulled him out of it before he hurt her. And Kat … gods. She’s really spooked. There’s got to be something I can do, but for now, they need space, and I need to figure out my next move.”

  “Well, you’ve got more than two weeks to make it happen.”

  “True. And that’s the only reason that I’m not flipping out right now.”

  The French doors flew open, and Apollo trotted in. “Gods, Dita. I’ve been looking for you all morning. Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been here. What’s the matter?”

  Apollo picked up her towel and handed it to her. “You need to be sitting down for this.”

  Dita pulled herself out of the pool and took the towel from Apollo, wrapping it around herself with her face pinched in concern. She took a seat next to him and braced herself.

  Apollo leaned forward and ran a hand through his blond hair. “I’ve had a vision, Dita.”

  Her skin prickled. “Tell me.”

  “Eric will come for the girls. Soon.”

  “Gods,” Dita whispered. She hadn’t counted Eric out, but she had hoped to get Kat and Dillon together before Ares thought to use him. Ares was on his game, though, and with Hera in his ear, he was more proactive than he had been in a very, very long time.

  “What are you going to do?” Perry asked.

  Dita stood and paced, her wet feet patting on the concrete, her dripping hair stuck to her back. “What can I do? They’re not even speaking to each other, so I’m not exactly minutes away from winning. Which sucks because as of last night, I was.” She turned and paced back toward Perry and Apollo. “Kat’s upset. Really upset. She’s not even around Kiki right now, she’s off freaking out. What if Eric comes when they’re not together? What if he gets to Kat first and ambushes her? What if she leaves her gun in her car? There are too many variables.”

  She turned again and continued. “She’s so distracted by what happened with Dillon that her head is not in the game. Not to play with Eric. He could crush her.

  Perry chewed her thumb. “What about Owen?”

  Dita turned back toward her as the wheels in her brain turned over a plan. “Owen could work. If Owen knows that Eric is coming … ” She paused, then started walking faster than she had before. “Yes. If Owen knows, he can get Dillon to Kiki. If Dillon’s there, Eric doesn’t stand a chance. And if Dillon saves the girls … well, I may just win this.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Ares is an idiot. That motherfucker is going down.”

  Apollo chuckled nervously. “I don’t know. If you hadn’t found out, it may have ended gruesomely.”

  He was right, and she was filled with gratitude. “Apollo, thank you. Thank you so much. Ares wouldn’t think twice about killing the girls.”

  “If Kat dies, and Ares didn’t kill her himself, then you lose.” Perry peered up at her.

  Dita waved her off. “I don’t give a shit about losing. I have to keep those girls alive.” Her brow furrowed as she thought through exactly what Eric would do to them. “I’m just going to have to watch, and when the shoe drops, it’s going to be minute-to-minute.” She crossed her arms, and stared into the blue water.

  She had to stay on her game, and she was relieved at having an excuse to use to avoid finding out the truth. If she could steer clear of Ares until she won, she could hold out on drinking the memories. Because once she found out, there was no turning back.

  ———— New York ————

  Kat drove away from the city, up the coast. Her car sped around the winds and curves, and she shifted up and down, listening to her car as she raced away from the city.

  Dark rings circled her bloodshot eyes when she looked in her rearview. The sisters slept in the same bed the night before, talking and crying and talking some more. Kiki fell asleep, but Kat drifted in and out. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him again, and her heart broke fresh.

  As the sun rose, she snuck out, leaving a note for Kiki, telling her to go to Owen’s. That she needed to drive, to be alone, to de-stress. Kiki texted her as soon as she woke, and Kat reassured her that she was fine.

  She was so not fine.

  Kat replayed the moment again and again in her mind like a skipping record at a funeral. She felt the jolt when he threw her to the ground. She saw his eyes, burning into her, possessed. She ran through scenarios of what could have happened, what he would have done to her if he hadn’t stopped. Her breath hitched, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

  He stopped, though, and she didn’t know how. He wasn’t in his head, and then he was. But she never could have physically stopped him, and she had never been so terrified.

  She’d never been afraid of a man. Not like that. She’d always had the resources to get herself out of anything, but no man she ever cared about had put her in a situation like the one she was in. He could break at any moment. What if they argued? They already disagreed enough, how could she be sure that an argument wouldn’t turn into a fight? That he wouldn’t lose it? And then what?

  Kat pulled over onto a scenic overlook and watched the winter sea churn, gray and angry. Her hand fell down to the handle and opened the door, and she walked numbly to the front of the car. She sat on her hood and watched the waves crash on the rocks below, wrapping her arms around herself, holding herself together. As her tears fell, she wondered how she could walk away. But she had to. There was no choice.

  The ocean breeze blew her hair across her face, and the colorless winter sky pressed down on her. Dillon was what she wanted. But she just couldn’t risk herself, risk everything, for him.

  “I could have killed her,” Dillon said, looking down at his hands as he spoke to the group.

  Dr. Lovell’s lips were pursed. “Have you spoken with her?”

  Dillon shook his head, his voice
ragged. “I can’t even imagine what I would say to her.”

  “Tell me more about when she tried to stop you.” Dr. Lovell’s head tipped down to the pad as he wrote.

  “I … I threw her, I climbed on top of her. I didn’t even see her. Not until she touched me. She spoke my name, and I came right back into my head. It’s only happened a few times before, with Owen. He’s the only other person that can bring me back when I’m that far gone.”

  “But you don’t know how she feels now, right? Because you haven’t asked her.”

  Dillon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  “You don’t know that. Perhaps if she knew more. Does she know you come here?”

  He glanced up at the doctor. “No, why does that matter?”

  “Dillon, most people who have mood disorders don’t go to therapy. That alone says that you do what you can to control yourself. You fight because that’s an outlet for you, though you know how I feel about it. Studies indicate that it exacerbates the issue, but you feel that it runs your tank down, and it seems to help you. You made a career out of something that would have landed most people in jail. That shows real ingenuity. Does she know about your past?”

  “No.”

  “You should try to explain. She should know, and you should tell her. If you tell her, you may have a chance at convincing her that you wouldn’t hurt her. And if not, then at least you’ll know that you did what you could.”

  Dillon looked at his shoes, grappling with how he could tell her, if he could tell her. He wanted to. He wanted her. But he couldn’t imagine a way that he could make it right. Not after doing the one thing that he was afraid of doing to the one person he had ever wanted to be with.

  Kiki laid curled up in Owen’s bed, her back to his chest, his arms around her. The room was quiet, and Kiki stared blankly out the window.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Kiki shrugged.

  “How is Kat?”