by Skyler Andra
“Really?” Byron gave me an eyebrow as if he doubted that. “Let’s put it this way. Cupid was the son of the goddess of love. He was given these arrows that could make people fall in love with each other, no matter what their ranks were, who they were, what they wanted. Everyone was vulnerable to those arrows—no one was spared, not even Zeus. So when you think of a danger to the very way your world is built, it’s terrifying.”
“You might think of love,” I said, turning to stare out the window, thinking of all those strings I could see when I concentrated on them. What if some of those strings led to people who were incredibly unsuited for each other? Could my whispered advice force people into things that would destroy them and the people around them? Just thinking of the irresistible power I possessed made me feel a little sick.
“Today, when we think of the name Cupid,” Byron said, “you’re right, we picture something small and cute, something that belongs on florists’ vans and Valentine’s Day cards. The Greeks called him Eros, however, and it wasn’t a name that you took lightly.”
Hearing the name made me shiver a little. There was something to be said for the power of words. Cupid, as far as I was concerned, was a fluffy baby, almost funny. Eros felt like something older, darker, and horribly enough, maybe more true. A god that meddled in the affairs of others for play or revenge.
Byron abandoned his book to make some coffee. The bracing smell of the dark roast woke me out of my stupor just a little bit, and I nodded, sitting back at the table.
“So that’s all good to know,” I said. “At least, it’s information that I didn’t know before. Now I just need to decide what in the hell I’m going to do with it.”
“We,” Byron corrected me.
“I beg your pardon?” I stared at him hard.
Byron spelled out his intentions. “What we’re going to do about this.”
“No way. You’re not getting involved.” I was not dragging Byron in this anymore than he was. The men after me were dangerous. Willing to spread lies to capture me. What else might they do to those who hide and protect me? I slumped in my chair, fighting the guilt crackling in my stomach.
“You brought me in when you emailed me out of the blue yesterday.” He took my hand again, examining it, as it memorizing all the lines on it. “Don’t tell me you just showed up to learn about gods that you could have Googled.”
Damn, when he said it like that, he nailed me. “You were closest. I was three hours away, and your name was the first one that popped into my mind.”
It was a mean thing to say, and I knew it. It made it sound as if I had dozens and dozens of friends and that Byron had merely been convenient. It wasn’t true at all. He might have been the closest, but the truth was that he was the only one I would have thought of, no matter where I was. If I happened to be in Albany, where my college roommate lived, who popped up on my Facebook once in a while with her newest small business venture, I wouldn’t have gone to her at all. I wouldn’t even have considered it. But I had to use some excuse to push him away and discourage his involvement in this.
Byron had his back to me when I said that, his shoulders stiffened. Then he relaxed and shrugged. “I don’t care. You can’t expect to show up with a load of walking mythology in your pocket and expect a folklorist not to follow up.”
Well, professional curiosity I supposed I could understand, but I was beginning to feel a little panicky about Byron being associated with all of this.
“Look, I don’t know what’s safe.” I pulled my hand away from his. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when people, and I do mean people on either side, when either side catches up to me.”
“So let’s make some plans.” Byron got up again, to get a notebook and pen.
“It’s the Notebook of Organization and Planning,” I observed, and Byron grinned at the reminder of the nickname I gave his college diary.
“You know I wasn’t going to give up on a good organizational tool because you made fun of it, right?” he teased.
“I never made fun of it,” I protested. “I just noticed you pulled it out for everything from our college friends getting a divorce to what to order for dinner.”
“Like I said. Good tool,” he reminded me. “So on one hand, we have people who are chasing you like some kind of movie villains, and on the other hand, we have people who are friendlier but are apparently willing to use somewhat underhanded means to get to you, even if they are more interested in sharing information with you.”
That about summed up my situation. We went back and forth like this for almost an hour, and Byron wrote down everything we knew about the situation as it stood. It was far less than ideal, but less than we feared. At the end, he shrugged.
“It may just be because they were actually willing to share what they knew with you,” he said, “but I think that the faction represented by Mads and Rane are better.”
I glared at him. “He put a tracker on my phone. Someone else was trying to tell him to handcuff me. They didn’t sound like a friendly faction.”
Byron sighed. “I’m not saying they’re great. But you said Rane avoided forcing you into things, and I’m not sure these other guys will. Getting an all-points bulletin out for you is pretty damned hostile, all things considered.”
“You don’t get points for being a halfway decent person,” I pointed out through gritted teeth. “You have to be a decent person in general.”
Byron looked pensive. “You do your best. You can’t always do the ideal thing.”
“But you can do better.”
For a moment, I thought that Byron was going to fight me, but then he nodded, even if it looked a little reluctant.
“You’re right,” he said, standing. “And I’ll think about what you said at work today.”
“You’re leaving?” I leapt to my feet, my heart beating faster at the thought of being alone.
“Yes, unless you can think of why I shouldn’t.” He gave me a cheeky smile, one that said he was happy to stay if I gave him the right reason. From his eyes came an honesty and a gentleness that offered me great comfort.
In the end, he was right. In the time I’d known him, he’d never missed a day of school or work, and there was no reason for me to make him do so today. I’d just stay in his apartment for the time being.
“Okay,” he added. “Then I’m leaving. Help yourself to food in the fridge or the TV. I’ve got
several streaming services.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, waving him goodbye, and he went to take a shower, and left after that.
All alone, I should have felt relieved, but instead I only felt nervous and fidgety. Maybe being on the run for the last little while had changed something in me. Without the running with Mads and Rane, I felt oddly lost, as if I was now a sitting duck instead of a moving target.
It was around noon when an idea occurred to me and I switched off the TV. Yes it was terribly dumb, and I would look like an idiot if it didn’t work, but at least there’d be no one there to see. Byron, bless him, still had a landline. After debating with myself for a moment, I picked it up. I let the dial tone ring in my ear for a moment, and then I spoke.
“I want to speak to Hermes. Mads. Whatever he wants to be called.”
The dial tone continued, unimpressed, but just as I was ready to give up, someone picked up on the other end of the line.
Oh my god. Had it worked?
A deep voice barked something in Russian, harsh and demanding, and I blinked.
“Oh, um, sorry, I must have gotten the wrong number…”
“Ha! Maybe that’ll teach you.”
Chapter 18
I frowned at Mads’ voice, preparing myself to answer a lot of questions. Ones I preferred to avoid.
“Teach me what?” I asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said playfully. “Not to tamper with forces you can’t control?”
I rolled my eyes. “Actually, my entire week has been trying to avoid tampe
ring with forces I can’t control and.”
Music blared in the background drowning out the conversation.
“Is that techno music in the background?” I yelled down the line. “Are you at a damn rave?”
“Not so loud, love of my days,” he said, and I imagined him holding his phone away from his burning ears. “I dunno if they call them raves anymore, but it’s one hell of a party, I’ll tell you that for nothing. I think they’re going to break out some kind of freaky body horror strip show in a little bit.”
I laughed picturing that. “Where in the world are you?”
“Budapest!” he replied casually as if he ventured all over the world all the time. Fitting rather for a god of travel. “Where are you?”
A fuzzy sensation swam in my head.
“I’m in…” I stopped myself, shaking my head, getting rid of the interference. “Funny. Nice try. I almost told you.”
This time when he laughed, the noise faded a little. He’d used his gift of trickery on me to try and force me to divulge my whereabouts. Well guess what, it didn’t work on me now that I was aware of it.
An image floated into my mind of Mads somewhere in Budapest, outside of some club that had once been some nobleman’s home. Dressed in something light enough that he could dance, and how good he would look strutting his moves. How I wished to be there by his side, busting a few moves myself. Maybe getting real close, rubbing up against one another. Getting hot and heavy on the dance floor. Then I shook my head because yes, I was blaming the libido on the god stuff, and not on the fact that I hadn’t really gotten laid much in the last few years, barring what had happened between me and Rane.
“You can’t blame me for trying,” he said, the background noise dampened a little.
“I won’t be fooled next time,” I warned him.
Mads ignored that comment and stopped me for dead with his next one. “Ares lost his damn mind when you went missing.”
Heat spiked in my veins. “Well, Rane shouldn’t put tracking apps on my phone without telling me, should he? Or think that handcuffing me is a good idea or talk about me like I’m some sort of package he needs to deliver.”
Mads was silent for some time before responding. “No, he shouldn’t, and I’m sorry, love of my days. At least tell me you’re safe where you are.”
That’s what I liked about Mads. What I saw was what I got with him. He might be conniving and deceitful—minus the nasty intent to harm anyone—but he didn’t pretend to be anything other than what he was. There was no denying his undeniable and irresistible magnetic charm.
“I’m doing just fine, thank you,” I told Mads. “And it’s pretty easy for you to apologize even if you were the one who set me up with Rane. Don’t think I forgot that.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Mads was voice was all sticky and sweet like honey again. “Nice trick with the phone in the truck, by the way. Ares chased it for a few hours before he figured it out. It wouldn’t have fooled me as well, but still, I’m impressed.”
A flutter carried through my chest. I loved it when he flirted with and complimented me. “Flattery gets you nothing.”
“You didn’t call to be told how clever you were,” Mads said. “Nor did you call to wish us the best. What did you call for, pretty star?” His voice had taken on a different tone, slightly lower and sweet as burned sugar, and something inside melted at the sound of it.
I swallowed hard, and he laughed again, the sound of it right in my ear sending chills down my spine.
“You’re good at your job, I figure,” he said, “but have you ever tried being on the other end, love of my days?”
“No…that is…stop it!”
“Whatever you like.” In a moment, his voice snapped back to normal, and I squelched a little bit of anger at that. “But you’re missing out.”
For the love of little green frogs, remember that. That’s who he is, not the sweet nothings he whispers.
“Just for once, stop dicking with me all right? Is that too much to ask, god of cocks?”
“Is that the best comeback you’ve got?” he said. “Try harder, pretty star.”
I quite enjoyed the banter between us. “You don’t know about the Hermes phallus shrines?” I teased.
He didn’t miss a beat. “Wait a minute while I check in with the boss.” He paused on the other end of the line. “Doing a bit of research I see. Yes, the boss confirmed it. I hope the pantheon doesn’t know about this. Let’s keep it between you and me, hey?”
“Sure thing cocky,” I said.
“Listen.” A serious edge crept into his voice. “I’m not dicking with you. Some of this comes with the territory, and some of it’s because I’m hilarious when I’m mildly funny at best. I’ll do better, okay.”
“Okay.”
“So what can I do for you, Locke?”
“Can you track me?”
“Would you believe me if I told you?”
“Yes,” I said. “Because I’m asking you, and I’m asking you to tell the truth.”
I don’t know why, but it made sense in my head. I wasn’t blind to what Mads and in turn, Hermes, was, but I didn’t think he was a bold-faced liar. Maybe I was being a fool, but I was already gambling so much, it seemed a small thing to gamble more.
“Yes, I can track you down with this call,” he admitted. “I can do it even without the phone. Why do you ask?”
It sounded like my own weird power, something accessed only when he concentrated on it.
I nodded. “Will you promise not to go running to Rane and giving him my location as soon as I hang up the phone?”
“I think you’ve dramatically underestimated how little I like the man,” Mads said. “Are you just calling to get some promises from me?”
“No, I want to talk to you,” I said. “You specifically, and I want to know you’re not going to try to force me into doing something I don’t want to do. Or something that I don’t know that I don’t want to do.”
“I can do that, I think,” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”
I twisted the cord on Byron’s phone around my finger. “I need to know more about what’s going on, and most of what I know, I got off of Google.”
Nope, no need to tell Mads that Byron existed until I needed to.
“You know.” Mads adopted that flirty tone of his again. “You’re taking some risks getting information from someone who’s known to be a god of liars.”
“Please tell me the truth.”
“That’s it?”
“I can see strings.”
“Are we in a nonsense contest now?”
I swallowed. Not Cupid, but Eros. There was something terrifying about love, something very heedless, and if Byron was right and even Zeus the king of the gods was afraid of the god of love, maybe that was something I could use.
“I see these strings that connect people to what they love,” I said, “even if they don’t know it. Some of those strings are strong and some are weak. I bet I could do some serious damage if I pulled on them, don’t you think? If I broke some, knotting others or connecting them to something new?”
There was a long stillness from the other end of the line. I imagined Mads sitting on the edge of some Budapest fountain in the moonlight, staring up at the sky and weighing what I said in his mind.
“All right,” he said, and this time there was something different in his voice. He had been flippant, kind, a dozen things, but on the main, he had been in control. This was the first time, I thought, that he suspected he might not have been anymore.
“Is that all?”
“Yes, we can talk,” he said. “Where shall I meet you?”
I hesitated because I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Can I call you back this same way?”
“Of course.”
“Great. This is turning into a fantastic deal all around. I’ll call you back tonight when I figure it out, okay?”
“I’ll be waiting with bated breath for you
r call. And Locke?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s just that…I am sorry for all of this. And please keep yourself safe.”
He hung up after that. I tried to tell myself that it was one more dodge, one more trick to see if he could get on my good side, but I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if he really meant it. I shook my head. It didn’t matter if he meant it or not as long as I got what I needed.
For the next few hours, I bumped around Byron’s house, fiddling with the TV and looking in the fridge for something good to eat. Finally, I gave up to the weariness that seemed to be just a part of me these days and went for a nap. Instead of going to my own bed in the guest room, however, I obeyed an instinct I didn’t even understand and went to sleep in Byron’s unmade bed instead. When I sunk into the blankets, I was immediately surrounded by the smell of him, something at once strange and so breathtakingly familiar. It fooled me into believing he was with me. His breath on my neck. His arms around me.
I fell asleep almost immediately, but I quickly realized that what I encountered wasn’t a norByron dream. I was in a dark place that reminded me of all the childhood dreams I had about princesses and palaces. The bed I lay down in seemed a mile wide draped with silk and furs, and for some reason, the only thing I was wearing was jewelry. No cloth, no leather, nothing but rings and necklaces, gold and gems. When I looked down, it was my own body, curvy and stubbornly stocky in places, but the pierced nipples made me blink, and the scent of incense in the air made me strangely restless.
“Goddess.” The word was a greeting, and I turned my head to see Byron, naked apart from the bronze wrist bands, crawling into the bed next to me, stretching out by my side.
“No, I’m not a…” I was going to protest being a goddess of any kind, but then he was kissing me, one hand coming up to stroke along my body like a musician would his favorite guitar. I sighed with pleasure, telling myself that this was just a dream after all, and returned his kiss.
“Goddess.” That came from my other side, and I turned to see Rane, naked as Byron was, and wreathed in what looked like a storm.
His pale blue eyes burned, and there was a fury I saw there as well as desire. I should have been afraid, but instinctively, I knew that there was no need at all. Something told me I was a goddess, and that meant that I ruled here, wherever that was. I was in command, and imperiously, I beckoned him to the bed as well.