by River Ramsey
“Phrixus, your standards have lowered,” I remarked, my voice sounding comically calm in spite of the fire barely quelled beneath it. “You once pandered to my friends, and now you’re licking up my scraps?”
He looked between me and Kore, a helpless mass of nervous energy and hesitation.
“I’ll handle it,” she muttered, jerking her head for him to go. I supposed she thought she called the shots now.
I waited for the cowering fool to leave and thought of calling him back because I wasn’t sure I trusted myself alone with her. Not when I had so many secrets to rip her open with. The last that had rolled off my tongue had admittedly been a mistake, but there was no taking it back now.
We were both in too deep, even if I was the only one who knew it yet.
“I guess it’s true what they say,” I finally said once the tension grew unbearable. “There’s no accounting for taste.”
She snorted a laugh, far from the humiliated response I’d expected. “You’re just jealous another guy tasted what you’ve deluded yourself into thinking is yours,” she said without missing a beat. Her tone sweetened as she continued, “But don’t worry, Hades. You can have a turn, but you’re gonna have to get down on your knees and learn to beg first.”
The laugh that came from my throat was genuine, if only because it was born of indignation. “Me? Beg for something you’re giving away for free?”
“Is that supposed to sting?” she asked, brushing past me on her way to the door. “It’s the twenty-first century, Hades. I know you spend most of your time in Daddy’s basement, but the whole virgin goddess thing is a little passé.”
Rage burned within me and I spun around, grabbing her wrist. Anyone else would have cowered, but her gaze just burned with spite to match my own, and if I didn’t already hate her so much, I might have fallen in love right then and there.
“Contrary to what you might believe, you have been the beneficiary of my patience up to this point,” I said carefully. “I’ll give you one last chance, Kore. Apologize. Beg for my forgiveness, and all this ends.”
She held my gaze, and to her credit, it was for longer than anyone else ever had. When she finally spoke, her voice was icy but calm, proving she did have it in her to show restraint when necessary. She just needed to be shown her place.
“Your benevolence astounds me, Hades.” She broke from my grasp and reached up to touch my face. The spark within that touch took me by surprise, but she didn’t seem to be aware of it. Those eyes sharpened and her lips parted in the slightest of smirks as her fingertips brushed across my cheeks. “You want an apology? Here it is. I’m sorry everyone in this school wastes their time cowering in fear of someone as pathetic as you.”
She dropped her hand and turned away. Her words shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but whether I had hope that she could be reasoned with or simply didn’t imagine the daughter of Demeter would be foolish enough to write the check of her ruin so boldly, they did.
“You’re making a mistake, Persephone,” I warned her, feeling strangely calm as I turned to face her. “One you’re not going to be able to take back.”
“You’re the one who’s making a mistake,” she said in a voice like a dagger, looking me up and down from the doorway. “You might as well go all the way. So far, your attempts have been just as pathetic as you are.”
With that, she left and for the first time in forever, I smiled.
Let the games begin indeed.
17
Loki
I woke in the middle of the night to a cold sweat. Something was wrong. Something had changed.
I looked around the room I'd shared with Hades and Fenrir since Freshman year. The latter was sleeping soundly, the covers half-strewn off his naked torso from all his usual tossing and turning. Nothing amiss there. Hades' bed was still perfectly made as it had been when I'd passed out.
Something was wrong. He was nothing if not predictable, and he rarely deviated from his evening routine let alone made it home before I did. He was the dealer, but I was the party animal of the trio, and something told me the exception had something to do with the resident goddess of spring.
I threw off the tangled sheets and left the room. I'd fallen into bed in my clothes, so that was no problem. The lobby was empty, save for a junior who'd passed out drunk on the couch with his girlfriend. They were both snoring soundly, so I slipped past without notice and went off in search of my friend.
Half the time I wasn't sure that's what he was, but there wasn't a term for someone who was equal parts brother, enemy and confidant. Our destinies might have brought us to the Academy, but our three souls had been entwined long before in ways even I couldn't fully wrap my head around, even if I was closer than the other two. Every time one of them got the idea to drift apart, I pulled them back and corrected course before it happened because as much as we fought and as much as we hated each other at times, I knew the truth of what was out there for each of us alone: destruction.
It was a sixth sense, or so my mother had always said. The kind of knowing without words or evidence that could only be acted upon, never questioned. It wasn't my gift, wasn’t nearly strong enough for that, and I had no more control over it than I did my tongue half the time, but it had never led me astray and I'd learned to listen to it.
The same sense that told me Kore's arrival would either be the thing that sent us all spiraling into the hell we'd been running for all our lives, or bring us together enough to fight destiny itself.
The others couldn't see it yet, but I'd called her number--and ours--from the very first day she'd arrived. From the moment I'd spotted her eyeing the painting of my father in the downstairs lobby, only to have Dionysus make his move first.
We always did have similar tastes, him and I.
The greatest challenge of the moment was managing Hades before his misdirected interest pushed her too far for redemption. He'd never been good at feelings. Couldn't tell the difference between love and hatred, spite and jealousy. Fenrir was a whole different matter. Just keeping up with the both of them was a full-time job, and now that she was here, I'd been working overtime.
"Going somewhere, brother?"
I froze as Thor's unwelcome voice greeted me from the small library in the central wing lobby. I turned to find him well into his cups, a half-empty scotch glass on the table next to him.
"Isn't it a bit late for you?"
"Isn't it a bit early for you?" he challenged, pushing up from the armchair that was barely structured to contain him. He'd gotten all the muscle and little of the brain in the family pool, which made him easy enough to thwart, but now that he was a fixture at the Academy, my life was more complicated than before.
"Teaching doesn't agree with you, brother," I remarked. "Maybe you'd better go back to Asgard."
He gave a lopsided smirk that had always gotten under my skin. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? And yet, if your performance was suitable enough to handle this on your own, the old man wouldn't have sent me here."
My face fell as the mask of his pleasantry was stripped away. I'd wondered how long it would take. Three weeks into his second semester here was longer than I'd expected.
If only everyone else could see him as clearly as I always had.
"And what are you doing, exactly?" I challenged. "Getting drunk, missing classes? That'll keep Cronus on his toes."
"You had one job, Loki. Befriend his brat, get him distracted, keep him in line," Thor said, his gaze darkening as he leaned in. "Given the state of affairs lately, and the fact that Poseidon's goddamn daughter ended up in the infirmary, you're not doing it very well."
"If I recall correctly, that happened during your class, didn't it? And she doesn't know she's Poseidon's daughter."
"No thanks to your friend," he growled, shoving a finger in my face. "You keep him in line, Loki, or your time here isn't gonna last for much longer."
He shoved me into the wall on his way past, and I glowered at his back, u
ttering a Norse curse under my breath.
Once I was sure he was gone, I resumed my search, more determined to find Hades now than ever. Kore had his head in a way I'd never seen before, and if he didn't get it back in the game, we were all fucked.
The hallways were eerily quiet, but their silence spoke volumes, whispering stories never meant to be told as I crept along the walls. As my hand rested on the bannister to head downstairs, the old carved wood hummed with energy of some strange kind.
It was a melody I didn't recognize, even if it felt as old and familiar as the ancient ballads. I had only taken a single step downstairs when I realized just what kind of energy it was.
Death.
At the very bottom of the stairwell, sprawled on the floor with his long limbs in unnatural poses and a deceptively serene expression on his face, was none other than Phrixus. He and Helle had been my lovers for a season, and it was the first time I'd ever seen the one without the other. A fortunate mercy, considering that his crown of white hair was surrounded in a crimson pool that resembled a saint's halo.
What a night this was shaping up to be.
18
Kore
I overslept my alarm by five minutes, despite its constant shrill bleating. The events of the night before seemed like more of a dream than the bizarre non sequiturs my subconscious had treated me to for the last seven hours, and as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I felt anything but rested.
I didn't have time for a shower, so I donned my uniform hastily and headed out the door to find the lobby empty. I wasn't running that late. Usually there were at least a few upperclassmen who had the option of scheduling their classes later in the day. There was plenty of noise coming from downstairs, and when I reached the top of the stairwell, I froze at the sight of yellow tape cordoning off all but a narrow path down. At present, the tape was holding back a throng of onlookers as men and women in pristine white suits and sunglasses took pictures of the chalk outline in the shape of a body surrounding a suspiciously dark stain in the marble.
Was this a joke? It had to be. As I stood frozen at the top of the stairs waiting for a punchline, the crowd turned to look up at me. I was used to being the center of attention in the worst way at this school, but this time, something was different. The look on the collective faces of my classmates wasn't the one of casual disdain and predatory intent I had grown so accustomed to.
It was... fear.
"What the hell happened?" I blurted out since everyone was already staring.
A woman who'd been knelt over the suspicious stain on the floor with a camera a moment earlier rose to her considerable height and looked at me. Even behind those dark lenses, I could feel her suspicion.
"Are you the new transfer student?" she asked, stepping over the yellow tape to come to the bottom of the stairs.
"Yeah," I said, my answer sounding more like a question as I remained where I was, afraid to take another step. I'd seen enough crime shows to know what that outline meant, but this was a school. A sheltered academy for the privileged children of the most notable deities, sequestered in an ancient city so heavily protected with magic that most people thought it was nothing more than a myth. How could anything like that happen here?
Bullying was one thing, but death, despite its personification dwelling within these walls, seemed like a far off thing that could never reach us here. Maybe most of my classmates hated me, but the idea of one of them dying was too surreal and awful to process.
The woman in sunglasses and a jet black ponytail pulled so tight it gave me a headache just to look at it climbed the stairs to meet me, since she must have realized I had no intention of coming down. She pulled something from the pocket of her suit and flashed a badge with the same omega symbol that decorated my uniform, albeit on an entirely distinct crest.
"Agent Kunzite with the Olympian Special Task Force," she said, tucking her badge back into her pocket only to pull out a notepad in its stead. "I'm going to need to ask you a few questions." She took off her glasses, revealing the solid, glowing pink of her eyes, sclera and all. Her irises were a shade darker, barely distinguishable, and immediately I knew who--or what--she really was.
Hell of a time for a flashback.
Three Months Prior
"Are you insane?" Mom had screamed, her voice getting higher and higher with each glass vial she pulled from the plastic kit inside my school bag. I'd tucked them away in a makeup case, thinking she'd never know the difference, and to be fair, she wouldn’t have if she hadn't just so happened to peep me coming out of a club on one of her shopping excursions.
We'd been doing the whole song and dance ever since we'd gotten home, and the car ride had been one long, "Do you have any idea what kinds of people hang out at those places?"
Of course, I knew admitting that I was one of those people and had been since long before I was old enough to drive, let alone get past the door, wasn't going to help matters.
As I sat in the living room watching her go through my every belonging, all I could see was the dollar signs going down the toilet with the encapsulated herbs she'd flushed.
"Panaceas!" she cried in dismay, staring down at a glowing green vial in the shape of a skull. One of my most popular menu items. Good thing most of it was back at the warehouse with the Nymphs.
When she finally turned to me, her hands on her hips, I realized she expected me to chime in. Every time I'd tried before had just resulted in more screaming and tears. "Well?" she demanded. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
"It's... not as bad as it looks?" I tried.
Her murderous look told me that was the wrong answer. "These are illegal, Persephone, and for good reason."
I winced. When she called me Persephone, I knew I was really in trouble. All I could do was sit and take it.
"Do you know what they do to people who sell these?" she asked. The tone of her voice gave away the fact that it was a rhetorical question, not one she expected me to answer. "You're damn lucky I found you and not the OSTF! You're eighteen now, they'd lock you away in the aether and have every right to do it!"
She was being slightly dramatic. Being a goddess with name recognition, let alone Hades' betrothed, would mandate a slap on the wrist at worst, but I was loathed to drop his name, whatever the benefit. Hell, I'd take a chamber in the aether before I'd happily walk down the aisle with him.
Even so, the OSTF had always been enough of a threat to whip me into shape when I was little and my gut reaction proved that hadn't changed. Everyone knew about the independent task force the gods had created to keep themselves in line and execute impartial investigations--and judgment, when the occasion called for it. Each member was a living crystal, identifiable by the eyes that told their stone of origin. They were the only beings in the known universe capable of killing Cronus himself, thanks to the power held within their scythes.
If there was one being in this universe I'd rather have been caught red handed by less than my mother, it was a Stone.
Present Day
As I sat in the Headmaster's office listening to Kunzite recount the facts that had brought me to an oversized leather chair under the watchful eye of Odin, my head was spinning badly enough that I had to grip the wooden armrests just to feel like I wasn't going to fly off the surface of the earth.
Nothing she was saying made sense. Nothing had after those three impossible words.
"Phrixus is dead?"
"That's right," Odin said in a grave tone, watching me carefully. "And according to several witnesses, you were one of the last people to see him."
"Witnesses?" I echoed, unable to hide my agitation. "The only witness was Hades, and in case he didn't fill you in on all the pertinent details, he threatened Phrixus right in front of me, so if you should be questioning anyone, it's him."
"We already have," Kunzite said in an impartial tone. "We're questioning everyone with any connection to the evening in question."
It took me a second to collect myself,
and I still wasn't sure if that's what I'd done so much as stuffing down everything I couldn't bring myself to deal with right now. "Who found him?" My voice sounded shaky, but better on the second try. "His body, I mean."
"That would be my son," Odin answered, his hands folded in front of him with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Given Loki's nature, I'm afraid it took a while to get anyone to take his report seriously."
Of course it was Loki. He was everywhere. For all I knew, he was the one who'd killed Phrixus, but Hades was the most obvious suspect, so it was a shock he'd reported the body at all.
"How did it happen?" I asked hoarsely. Odin offered me a glass of water and I took it gratefully, wishing it was something stronger. Then again, I was already a murder suspect and the last thing I needed was an underage drinking charge on my rap sheet.
"We believe he was pushed, given the nature of the damage and the way he fell," Kunzite answered.
I couldn't help but grimace.
"You said Hades threatened Phrixus," Kunzite pressed, her pen on her paper, ready to write down everything I said--and use it against me, I was sure. "Why is that?"
"He didn't tell you?" I asked bitterly. My confidence faded when I glanced back at Odin and realized I was going to have to get into the embarrassing details in front of him. As if his impression of me could get any worse. "He walked in on me and Phrixus having an...intimate moment."
Odin cleared his throat. "So we heard. As far as this threat goes, I'm sure it was nothing more than banter between classmates. They had a bit of a rivalry."