Venus Rising: Book 3 Aphrodite Trilogy (The Daughters of Zeus 6)

by Kaitlin Bevis

  Right. I glanced around, hope rising within me. It was in this space, hovering between deep sleep and dreaming, that dreamwalking was possible. But utter darkness waited where I’d usually see the twinkling minds of other deities.

  Gods didn’t need sleep, and the Pantheon was definitely in an all hands on deck situation. But I wasn’t worried. When Persephone went missing, we’d monitored the dreamstate at least twice an hour. They would do the same now, on the off chance that either I or Hades could break through.

  They would find me.

  I drew in a sharp breath, still shaken from my nightmare, and created my own dreamscape, pulling in awareness from my sleeping body to flesh out a replica of the living room where I slept.

  It wasn’t perfect. My fear warped the broken cabin door, making it large enough to dominate the room. But if Calais or Narcissus came for me, some part of my sleeping mind would notice.

  Unfortunately, my powers were still hit or miss. Using them at all took an ungodly toll thanks to the Steele wound on my arm. Just when I’d started to worry I would lose my grip on the dreamstate altogether, Medea and Otrera came home.

  Chapter XXX

  Aphrodite

  “WHAT IS THIS?” Medea’s voice cracked with panic as she jerked around to look every which way. Her dark hair followed her, just a second out of sync. Dreamscapes had a strange visual effect on real, living things.

  I held out a hand to calm her, and realized my bruises had traveled with me. My body ached too much for the pain not to manifest here.

  “Aphrodite, what happened to you? The door—You—”

  “No time for that.” My hands closed on her bony shoulders. “What happened with the shield around the hidden wing?”

  “It’s down.” Medea’s violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she filled me in on Otrera’s panicked plan to have Medea drop the shield around the island and attempt to teleport us off. “But that would be suicide. If I couldn’t do it, we’d—”

  “No, she’s right.” I fought to keep my voice even and reassuring despite my own panic lurking beneath. “It’s the only avenue left to us if contacting the gods doesn’t work out.”

  My dreamscape shuddered as Otrera’s panicked voice broke through, her words warped as though coming through a deep body of water.

  Medea jerked in surprise. “What was that?”

  “Otrera.” I channeled a tiny bit more power into the ‘scape to keep us here, and pain rippled through me. “Look, I can’t keep this up for long, so, pay attention.”

  Talking fast, I walked her through the process of dropping into a dreamstate. Now that she knew what it felt like, she’d probably be able to bring herself back. “You think you can do it?”

  “I don’t know!” Her voice rose in terror. “What if I can’t? What if—”

  “Then grab me again.” I tightened my grip on her shoulder. “And I’ll get you here.”

  “Why—”

  “No time for questions! Wake up. Tell Otrera to give us forty-five solid minutes. If we can’t contact the Pantheon by then, we’re going with her plan. Go!” I shoved her out of the dreamscape.

  Seconds later, a minute at max, my dreamscape rippled with Medea’s return.

  “This is so exciting,” she squealed, throwing herself at me. “My whole life, I thought I could only do one thing, but now . . .” The demigoddess spread her arms wide. “I can do anything!” Medea grinned. “This is the first time, ever, that my powers haven’t felt like a noose around my neck. Instead it’s just all awesome.”

  I let her gloat, giving her an excited squeeze before I stepped back. “We’ll make a real goddess of you yet.”

  I’d said something similar to Persephone once and then failed her utterly by betraying her to Zeus. I was determined to do better by Medea. But every breath felt like a wave of agony tightening around me like a vise. I didn’t have much time.

  “What happened? Our door was kicked in, and you look—” Medea’s voice trembled. “Your arm, where the Steele—” She swallowed hard, eyes jerking away from me. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m still alive, aren’t I?” I forced a reassuring smile to my face. “Steele usually kills in a matter of heartbeats.”

  Divine Steele. We weren’t sure how the Steele crafted by demigods differed. And now that my powers were more or less back, I could feel them fraying within me with every brush against the wound. I was probably in for a long, agonizing death.

  But I could work with that.

  Medea stared at me in disbelief, no doubt seeing right past my equivocation. The blurred room flickered with her uncertainty. “How can you possibly be this calm?”

  I opted not to share the massive panic attack I’d had once I returned to the cabin. The dread I’d felt when I saw my skin turn gray, the hopelessness that threatened to drown me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d convinced myself that when my powers returned, I’d pull a Persephone and become this unstoppable force that could fix everything with a snap of her fingers.

  I’d let myself forget that my powers were pretty much useless. Everyone of consequence was immune to my charm, and I couldn’t cast a new glamour while I was locked into this one. Shielding, dreamwalking, healing, and teleportation were only helpful if my powers were stable. Only they weren’t, thanks to the Steele.

  But even if my powers had returned one hundred percent, they had never been my strength. Just because I wasn’t a realm ruler or super-charged deity didn’t mean that I was useless. Maybe I wasn’t the hero of the story, but I had a part to play. Groundwork to lay. I could get Persephone here and then stay out of her way.

  “What do we do now?” Medea’s voice came back full force. She squinted at the blurry room as if she could will it into focus.

  “We’re waiting for another god to drop into the dreamstate. They should come by every thirty minutes. And when they do, they’ll definitely notice me. In the meantime, I’m going to give you a crash course on using your powers.”

  Pretty much everything is easier to explain inside of a dream. Abstract concepts could become concrete. It took almost no time for Medea to figure out how to create her own dreamscape and tether me to it. We didn’t make it pretty, just an indistinct blurred room. She could always learn to decorate later.

  Once she was fairly confident on all things dreamwalking, I moved through the rest of the base powers at light speed. Medea still had a long way to go before truly mastering her powers, but it was a start.

  I’d just walked her through identifying power signatures when the dreamscape shuddered, sound popping in and out with each lurch of the scape.

  Medea shot me an alarmed look. “Did I mess it up?”

  “It’s okay.” With effort, I kept disappointment from my voice. The last thing I needed was for Medea’s abilities to get restricted by self-doubt. “You’re new. It takes time to learn to hold the dreamscape together when you’re thinking of something else. Just focus. It might be helpful if you—”

  I broke off when the white wall rent, tearing open with a lick of flames.

  “I’m not doing that!” The slight demigoddess gripped my hand, stumbling backward, as if she could pull me out of danger.

  “Nope.” A grin broke out across my face as the familiar bite of smoke sliced through the air. “You’re not. Calm down.” Joy bubbled up inside of me. “Ares found us.”

  Chapter XXXI

  Aphrodite

  ARES ENTERED THE dreamscape in a whoosh of flame. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired. Over the last few months of him masquerading as Adonis, I’d almost forgotten what he really looked like. The second his dark eyes landed on me, the blurred space between us faded to nonexistence as he swept me up with a wordless cry.

  The familiar smell of leather and burnt cinnamon overwhelmed me as I clung to
him, stunned into silence and overjoyed to be in his arms again. He kissed me breathless and man, did I return the favor.

  “Are you okay?” he demanded, his hands gripping my arms as he pulled back enough to look me over. My every cut and scrape was still visible. His dark eyes turned frantic as he took them all in. “Oh, gods, Aphrodite, what happened? What did they do to you?”

  I broke, collapsing against him with a sob as all the fear, pain, and panic I’d felt ever since watching him disappear coursed through me. Relief chased away the salt of my tears.

  “I’ve got you, love.” His arms wrapped around me like they always had, his hands caught up in my hair with each gentle stroke.

  I’d held up without him to piece me back together the way he had so many times before, much to my surprise. But now that he was here, I felt safe and loved, like I was home.

  Medea cleared her throat, her cheeks pink. “I’m gonna. . .” The slight demigoddess glanced down, hiding behind a curtain of dark hair. “. . . let Otrera know we made contact. Be back in a few.”

  Right. I drew in a sharp breath of smoke-tinged air. Medea. Otrera. Hades. There wasn’t time to fall apart right now. Too many people counted on me. With great effort, I broke away from Ares. “We need to gather the gods.”

  Chapter XXXII

  Medea

  I CAUGHT OTRERA up as best I could then returned to the dreamscape, but the blurred version of our living room was empty of everything but smoke.

  They must have moved to a different dreamscape, I realized, my heart thudding in panic. No. She couldn’t meet them without me. I needed a chance to negotiate with the Pantheon.

  “That just means I have to find them.” I tried to remember what Aphrodite had said about seeking out other gods in dreamscapes. Not much. Ares had interrupted. But it sounded a lot like the stuff she’d said about power signatures before.

  So, I closed my eyes, and tried to think outside my dreamscape. The world expanded. I could still feel the dreamscape I’d generated, but in a distant sort of way. Darkness overtook me, and I found myself in what looked like a cosmos of flickering lights.

  Looking at them straight on was difficult. It was more like an awareness of light in the corner of my eye or behind closed lids. I could sense them more than see them.

  The lights gave off feelings. One bright spot somehow reminded me of salt water and the crash of surf meeting sand. I hesitated, reminded of Aphrodite’s admonition to be careful around Poseidon. So, I thought of Ares instead and was soon drawn to a flickering ball of fire.

  Now what?

  Hesitantly, I imagined myself reaching for the fire, my hand brushing against the popping flame. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in a new dreamscape. Lashes of red, yellow, and orange flickered around me, emitting a smoke that smelled of burnt spices, but without the searing heat that would make this dreamscape uncomfortable. Then darkness dissolved around me, and I felt a familiar tugging pulling me in Poseidon’s direction.

  Aphrodite, I realized with relief.

  She must have been waiting until she sensed my return to pull me in. I could feel the tenuous hold of her power flickering, so I closed my eyes and focused, allowing her to draw me into the dreamscape. When I opened my eyes, I found myself on a stretch of beach so hyper-realistic, I could taste salt in the air.

  “There you are,” Aphrodite called, shooting me a grin.

  I blinked in surprise at her newly acquired slim black top and blue jeans. Her golden hair was even swept up into a complex braid. The worst of her bruises had vanished, leaving her cleaner, happier, and more at ease then I’d seen her since I’d relocated the island. She was surrounded by gods in a clamor of hugs and tears and exclamations of joy.

  I watched the Pantheon as Aphrodite recapped our situation. I was fascinated to put such legendary names to faces. In real life, my attention would be riveted to the tiny blonde, Persephone, because she held such an incredible amount of power. But the dreamscape stripped all that away, allowing me to get a good look at the other gods.

  Poseidon had been at the doomed truce meeting, but I’d barely noticed him at the time. Now, I found myself captivated by his eyes. They looked like tiny oceans. I vaguely remembered them being blue and green with splashes of brown at the meeting. But due to the hour, they were now a midnight black with ripples of silver-white waves cresting and ebbing.

  The only thing I didn’t like were the blond spikes of his hair, styled with too much gel. It was like he was trying too hard. He noticed me staring and offered me a wink and a sly smile. Heat flooded my face, and I tore my gaze away, though that was easier said than done. The sea god was shirtless and sported a truly epic six pack.

  But that wasn’t what had caught my eye in the first place. It was the way he looked at her. He stood outside of the loud, happy reunion. And, at first, given the way Aphrodite described him, I’d assumed that was out of animosity. Or at least dislike. But I could see the relief in his eyes. No, he was more than relieved, he felt . . .

  Love, I realized, sucking in a surprised breath of salt-tinged air. He loved Aphrodite. Not romantically. There wasn’t a flicker of desire in the way he watched her. It was something more familial. Something almost resigned. But it was there.

  Aphrodite had described herself as an outsider among the gods, but she was wrong.

  They loved her, fiercely. I’d known to expect that from Ares. He hadn’t left her side since they’d reunited in the dreamscape. His dark hair flopped into equally dark eyes, but he didn’t lift his hand from around her waist to push it back. He held her as if he was afraid if he let her go, he’d never get another chance.

  I’d known to expect it from Persephone, who threw her arms around Aphrodite with enough force to knock her down. Ares kept Aphrodite on her feet with a roar of laughter when the other gods joined the ambush.

  But I hadn’t known to expect such emotion from Poseidon. Or from Athena, the stern-looking woman with icy gray eyes and a severe bun. Not from Artemis, the dark-haired beauty. And certainly not from Hephaestus, the god with the mangled face. Aphrodite told me that she annoyed him beyond measure, but it wasn’t aggravation I saw in the way he looked at her.

  Tears stung my eyes. I was such an idiot. I’d thought Aphrodite and I were the same. Outsiders, both belonging, yet not, to a close-knit community full of history. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  I’d searched my entire life for what she had. This commotion, these people embracing her with open arms. The connection they shared. I kept thinking I’d get that, running from my mother to Jason to Aphrodite. But now that I saw the real thing, I knew.

  I’d never been loved like this.

  Maybe. I’d come close in my friendship with Aphrodite and Otrera. But one was built on lies, the other on a desperate need to reunite her with her real family. Sand shifted beneath my feet as I shrank into the background of the pristine beach. I tried to feel happy for her. But jealousy kept rearing its ugly head, and I didn’t like the thoughts it sent scurrying through my brain.

  She’s not yours, I tried to remind myself. You don’t have a claim to her.

  But I loved her as much as they did. And rational or not, it hurt to share, to know that I had to give her back.

  I tried to focus on something else, anything else, and found myself looking around at the dreamscape.

  We stood on a stretch of beach that seemed more real than the beach on the island. Each grain of pure-white sand was so sharply defined that the real world felt pale in comparison. Even the sound of the waves striking the shore seemed more crisp. And the air, gods, the air was so fresh, so clean, so completely different than the stale cesspool our island had become.

  “So that’s where we are,” Aphrodite said after spouting a mouthful of science babble about the stars and angles of sunlight, wind, and currents. “Approximat
ely. Do you think you can find us from that?”

  “If you’re visible.” Poseidon’s ocean eyes narrowed in thought. “Yes, we should be able to find you fairly quickly.”

  “I could just give you the coordinates,” I interjected, my voice so soft in my hesitation that Poseidon had to turn off the salt-filled wind in order to hear me. My nails bit into my palms as I gathered the courage to keep talking.

  “That would be helpful,” Athena said after an entire minute of stunned silence.

  I gave her the coordinates. “Once I drop the shield, all bets are off. If I can’t teleport us off the island, then we’ll need you to swoop in fast.”

  “‘Swooping in’ isn’t going to be easy on an island full of armed demigods,” Athena argued. “Once the shield drops, it’s going to be fairly obvious what’s happening. They’ll be on guard.”

  My feet sank further into the sand when I shifted, uncomfortable with her criticism. If only we’d gotten hold of them before Narcissus had distributed the Steele. But I hadn’t figured out dreamwalking in time, and now everything was so much more risky.

  “I have a plan for that.” Aphrodite drew a breath so deep, I could see her shoulders rise. “We need to get to the hidden wing. Medea can drop the shield around the island and put one around just that patch of land. That should keep us more or less stable and safe while we get Hades. If Medea, Hades, and I can scrape up enough power between the three of us—”

  “What about Adonis?” I asked, surprised she’d forgotten to mention him.

  The salty, ocean air dipped in temperature, becoming frigid for a split second before it turned back to normal. What was that? I glanced at Poseidon in surprise. Oh. These dreamscapes could tell me a lot more than I’d thought.

  Aphrodite didn’t seem to notice the skydiving temperature. She broke off, her mouth working without sound for a solid second as she fought to regain composure. “I don’t know. Something happened to him. Something bad. I could feel it before—” Her voice broke.