“I don’t hate you.”
“Only because you thought you could make me something different.” I leaned against the countertop for support. “Something you can stand.”
“No! That’s not—”
“Three days ago, you could barely tolerate me. Now all of a sudden—”
“Three days ago, I didn’t know you. Not really.” The words seemed to explode from within Adonis, like if he put enough power behind them, the volume would force me to see reason. As if he could drown out the horrified voice in my head crying that he’d poisoned me, betrayed me, hurt me. But the truth couldn’t be silenced. “All I knew was that you weren’t psychotic like most of the gods, and you didn’t deserve to be killed off as a precaution.”
“Most of the gods? You’ve met almost all of them, Adonis. Does Persephone seem psychotic to you? Or Artemis? Or Ares? Or Hephaestus? Are you saying any of them deserve to be killed off as a precaution?” I spat out the word. “This is a new pantheon. Everything is different—”
“It’s too little, too late. The gods have screwed around with us, our families, some of us for generations. Tantalus’s entire family is literally cursed. It passes down his bloodline because of something that happened centuries ago. There’s no point in telling them the gods have changed because that’s cold comfort to anyone who’s already been hurt. They were going to kill you.”
His words echoed around the room as we stared each other down, breathing hard. “What do you want me to say, Adonis? That what you did was understandable? That it’s okay? Because it’s not.”
“I know. I just want you to understand I didn’t have a choice.”
“But you did. And you chose to drug me. You chose to lie to me. You could have trusted me instead of stabbing me in the back and—”
“I’m sorry!”
“—trying to remake me into something more to your liking. Something you can control. Gods, all that stuff you said last night about taking an advantage if you weren’t given one. You were trying to justify what you did.”
“No!”
“You slept with me,” I cried. “Was any of that me? Or did you charm me into—”
“No!” Adonis looked horrified at the thought. “I even checked. You weren’t charmed. I would never—”
“But if I’m drugged, it’s okay?”
“No!”
“How am I supposed to believe you? You can lie!”
“Because I could charm you right now into believing whatever I say, and I’m not. I wasn’t lying last night. You mean something to me. I think . . . I think I might even lo—”
“Don’t.” My voice broke as the feeling I’d found last night shattered within me, the shards ripping my heart, soul, and very being to shreds. For all the hell I’d lived through before, I’d never felt as empty and broken as I did right now. And I hated myself for giving him so much power over me. But I wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Don’t you dare play that card. Not after what you did.”
“I love you.”
He probably even believed it. But this wasn’t love. I knew love. I’d seen it in Persephone’s strength when she should have been broken beyond repair, in Demeter’s sacrifice, in the way Hades’s voice gentled every time he said Persephone’s name and Poseidon’s broke every time he said Triton’s. Love could be pain and fear and strength and wonder and everything in-between. But it was never poison.
No. Adonis felt what happened when you tossed two people in a room, piled on emotional and physical disasters, danger, and mayhem, and threw in some guilt for good measure. He felt something toward me, maybe even something strong, but it wasn’t love. Not if he could do what he’d done.
But it still hurt.
“I never meant for any of this to happen.” Adonis moved toward me and something inside me snapped. He didn’t get to look upset, and he didn’t get to act heartbroken. No. I was most likely dying, and not only had he caused it, but he’d watched while my powers deteriorated, sending me through a world of pain. And he’d said nothing. He’d lied to me and tricked me and betrayed me and tried to change me, all while pretending to care about me, and now he dared to say he loved me? Snarling, I grabbed the first thing I could reach on the counter and threw a heavy, ceramic cup at him.
“Get away from me.” The mug hit the cabinet behind him and broke into pieces. “You are everything that you hate. In fact, you’re worse!” After all his talk about how the gods were so bad, trying to make me feel ashamed of what I was. . . . And all that time, he’d been manipulating me?
“Aphrodite—”
“You’re a monster,” I yelled so loud my voice went hoarse.
A knock at the door drew me up short. Miguel’s voice filtered through the thick metal. “Is everything all right in there?”
Miguel could knock on the door. Which meant the shield was down. And that meant that something had happened to the barrier—or to the god who set it.
Persephone! She’d left with Tantalus. And Ares and the others. I needed to warn them. They thought they were helping the demigods, but the demigods were behind this whole thing and they were armed. All because I was too blind and stupid to see the danger right in front of me. I needed to fix this. To help them.
Gods, I was probably too late.
I couldn’t fall apart right now. There was too much at stake. With effort, I shoved aside my hurt and anger so I could move on to more important matters. “They would have killed me?” My voice sounded numb, detached.
“Yes.” Adonis looked at me, eyes full of hope.
I’d have rather died outright. At least then, the others wouldn’t be in danger. “How many demigods are on this ship, really?”
“Dozens. They . . . some of them can use glamours.”
That shouldn’t have been possible. Demigods couldn’t glamour, but even if they could, it should have left a power signature. My ability to pick up on signatures had vanished almost instantly, but Poseidon had tracked me using my glamour. He would have noticed dozens of glamoured demigods. Poseidon’s voice echoed in my mind. If they’re immune to charm, no telling what other oddities they have about them or what they may pass on. They’re too dangerous.
I closed my eyes. He was right. Gods help me, Poseidon was right. “Will they kill the other gods? Will they drug them?”
“I don’t . . .” Adonis rubbed the back of his neck, looking sick with guilt. “I don’t know. They don’t trust me anymore, so they haven’t been talking to me. It’s not like their aim was ever to attack you guys. They just wanted to be left alone.”
With an acronym like DAMNED, I somehow doubted that. But Adonis had believed what he wanted to believe, and now I was dying for it. But I wasn’t going to let that happen to the others.
“Aphrodite, don’t go out there!”
Oh, as if I would ever listen to another word he said again. I bolted out the door.
Chapter XXX
THE DOOR SLAMMED behind me, pushing me into a startled Miguel. “I’m sorry,” I gasped, leaning against the door.
Miguel steadied me, studying my face. “Are you all right, miss?”
The doorknob rattled, and I clutched the cool silver knob. Miguel took one look at me and grabbed the knob, holding it closed.
“Aphrodite!” Adonis’s muffled shout echoed through the hall and he pounded on the door. “I can help, just open the door.”
“Um . . . miss?” Miguel eyed the shuddering door as Adonis’s pounding persisted.
“I might pass out,” I warned Miguel, adjusting Ares’s jacket. “If that happens, promise not to leave me with him.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
My head spun and I decided to work on making sense later. Right now, I needed to keep Adonis contained. I closed my eyes and poured everything I had, which wasn’t much, into shie
lding the room. My stomach wrenched. Blood dripped from my nose and spots filled my vision, but the shield held up.
“Miss,” Miguel cried out in alarm as my knees buckled, but he held on to the door. Smart man.
“S’s ’kay,” I murmured, leaning against the wall. Tilting my head, I pinched the bridge of my nose to stanch the flow of blood. Sunlight streamed through the glass skylight and the endless halls of windows. The tightness in my chest eased. I’d been afraid the entire boat would be pitch black.
I drew in a breath. “I need to—I just—” Poseidon. I’d tell Poseidon. He could locate any deity in his realm and teleport us all to one place. I only wanted to tell this story once. Taking a deep breath, I waited for the worst of the dizziness to pass. Once I felt certain I wouldn’t collapse, I announced, “I have to get outside.”
“Get to medical, it’s . . .” Miguel eyed me, as if evaluating my ability to make it down to the bottom of the boat. “There is a door, straight down this hall that leads outside. Wait there, I will send someone to escort you the rest of the way.” He reached for a radio strapped to his belt as the door shuddered. “Go.”
Thankfully, my room wasn’t far from an exterior hall. The adrenaline keeping me on my feet wouldn’t last long, but I had to know. “What happened? Why is the power off?”
I could see in the struggle on his face that he wanted to ask what had been going on between me and Adonis, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure he wanted to know. “Uh . . . there was a malfunction. The power should return shortly, and once it does, we’ll be moving again.”
“Thank you.” I pushed off the wall and headed for the exterior door at the end of the hall. As I staggered down the corridor, I heard Miguel speaking rapid Spanish into his radio, and another crew member’s voice speaking to a group of passengers.
“Try not to close your cabin door completely, because you may not be able to unlock your door again. Looters will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Ah, and if your facilities are not functioning, please urinate down the shower drain. Bags will be provided for fecal matter.”
I pushed open the door to outside and sucked in a deep breath of the salt-tinged air. The white walls of the ship seemed to fade away as I gazed out at the never-ending stretch of navy blue. There were no waves. No wind. The ocean looked flat as glass, the lack of movement so profoundly wrong that I stepped away from the bars. “What?” I glanced up and spotted a few clouds lingering in the sky, but even those remained perfectly still. As if the world held its breath, frozen in time. I knew exactly which coordinates the boat had reached. I needed to find the others. Now. But the second Miguel’s backup arrived and he opened the door to our suite, Adonis would charm Miguel into telling him exactly where I went. I couldn’t be here.
Trembling with fatigue, I made my way to the stairwell and headed down, clinging to the white railing. I’d gone two flights when my shaking legs called it quits.
“Okay, then.” I leaned against the rail and looked around. I could hear people murmuring on deck, but no one occupied this strip of walkway. “Let’s try this again.” Swallowing hard, I dug my nails into the scabbed-over slice on my palm and dug deep until bright red blood welled up from the indentation. I held my sliced palm over the rail and watched as my blood dripped into the ocean. The water looked so still, I saw each red drop hit the water a ship’s length below. Poseidon, I focused my thoughts. It’s an emergency.
Nothing happened. Minutes ticked by, and my concern grew into alarm. I’m ready to call in a favor, I added in desperation.
Still nothing. I repeated the ritual out loud with no better luck.
Persephone? I sent a prayer her way. It’s important.
Nothing. “Okay, think, Aphrodite.” Something had obviously happened last night. “They can’t be dead.” I’d feel my bond of fealty snap if something had happened to Persephone. As for Poseidon, a realm ruler’s death was not a subtle event—there would be echoes of their death and realm-wide chaos.
My mind flashed to the tilting of the boat and the wild storm last night, but I dismissed the thought. Storms were common. Terrifying, if you happened to be out on a boat and locked in a room, but the chaos that reigned when a realm ruler died was the stuff of legend, not simple nightmares.
I’d know if Poseidon had died. Unless, of course, Poseidon had pulled a Demeter and willed all of his power to someone else. But the only person he would trust enough to give all his power to would be Persephone, and she wasn’t answering either.
Ares! Hades! Artemis! Athena! I went through the list of every living deity I could think of. Nothing.
“Okay. . . . Now what?” I chewed my lip, drumming my fingers against the metal bars. Maybe Artemis and Ares had kept their heads down last night to keep their cover intact. If I—
“Aphrodite?” Adonis’s voice filtered down from somewhere above me. I froze, holding my breath. He knew me, knew that, given a choice, I’d venture outside rather than stay in the stifling boat. Moving as quietly as I could, I opened the door and slipped inside, stumbling toward the dark staircase leading to the lower decks.
Sobbing filled the stairwell. Snatches of angry, frustrated, and frightened conversations flowed past me as I descended the steps. The lower I went, the darker the boat became. I couldn’t see anything. The disembodied voices sent shivers up my spine. Or maybe that was the fever.
I groped my way along the stairwell, my hands on the wall as I shuffled forward until my toes touched the edge of the next step. There was something creepy about wandering around the cruise ship in the dark. Just knowing how many people were on board with me, many of them demigods intent on my destruction, how small this boat was compared to the ocean, and how dark this stairwell looked—it all pressed against me. Tangible fear. I’d never felt claustrophobic or suffered panic attacks before Adonis drugged me. But now, I felt like I was suffocating. Choking on air smelling of chemicals and mildew, sweat, and salt.
Somehow, I made it to Elise’s room, hoping against hope Artemis would be there. If anyone needed to know the demigods were behind all the trouble, it was the deities impersonating demigods.
I pushed up the sleeves on Ares’s jacket and pounded on the door for a solid minute, each knock louder and more desperate than the last. “Come on, come on. Open the door!” All the physical and emotional exertion was catching up to me, and my adrenaline high was wearing off. My head spun as I slammed my fist against the door one last time. “Come on!”
The door next to hers opened. Sunlight spilled into the dark hall, revealing an annoyed old man in a bathrobe with three long white hairs atop his head. “Would you cut that out,” he snapped, glowering at me through wrinkled flesh. “Obviously, there’s no one. . . . Honey, are you all right?” He seemed to actually see me for the first time.
Gods, how bad did I look if that was the reaction I kept getting?
“S-sorry,” I stammered, backing away.
“Wait,” he called after me as I made my way down the hall, but I ignored him. I was far beyond the help of mortals.
I found Tantalus’s room and knocked. Warm and welcoming sunshine spilled into the hallway, bathing me in light when the door swung open. “Hey there.” Ares had really done his homework in mimicking Tantalus’s facial expressions. That familiar sideways grin lit up his golden face.
“Ares!” I threw my arms around him, so relieved to find him safe that for a second, my fever didn’t matter. “Oh, gods. I was getting so scared. I can’t find Poseidon, or Persephone, or Artemis, or anyone else. What happened?” I drew back an arm’s length. “Actually, never mind, we have to get everyone together now.”
“Whoa, whoa.” He leaned back, ready to pull free of my embrace until he noticed to what extent I clung to him to stay on my feet. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “The demigods aren’t missing, Ares, they’re conspiring agai
nst us. They’ve got weapons and poison, and Adonis—” My throat constricted when I thought of Adonis. “He knew. He knew the whole time. I left him shielded in the room. Once we get the others, he can tell you the whole story.”
“He knew what?” Ares shifted his grip on me as he locked the door. “Hang on, what about the demigods? Does this have anything to do with the power going out?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, wondering why he’d bothered to lock the door instead of putting up a shield. ’Cause Tantalus wouldn’t be able to? “You can drop the cover, Ares, there’s no point. What happened last night? Where are the others?”
“They’re just through here.” He motioned past the entryway.
Through here? Why would they be hanging out here? I pulled free of Ares and rounded the corner. “Ares, you have no idea wha—” The room was empty.
He’d lied.
Not possible. Gods can’t lie.
Demigods can.
Tantalus? But I saw Persephone ’port Tantalus away. I saw it. He was in the Underworld. Even if he’d somehow managed to get through Tartarus and escape, how could he possibly have found his way back onto a moving ship?
I felt him approach behind me. “You’re going to—”
I closed my eyes, my stomach twisting as I thought of Adonis’s charm avoidance game from last night. Clap three times. I pushed past the pain and fatigue to explode into action.
Gods, how many warnings had I missed? I snatched one of the blue sea foam paintings off the wall, ready to slam the heavy frame into his skull.
He dodged, not surprising given I was fighting blind. The painting crashed to the floor, glass frame shattering upon impact. “Fine,” Tantalus groused. “We’ll do this the hard way.” Pain exploded across my face. He struck me hard enough to make me see stars, and I cried out in shock as I stumbled backward. But I didn’t open my eyes.
His hands closed on my shoulders and he slammed me against the wall. I kneed him in the stomach and slipped free of his grasp, scrambling to get to the door. He knocked me to the floor. “Look at me,” he shouted, his weight crushing me against the carpet.
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