by Jamie Wyman
As he leaned against the arm of my chair, Marius passed me a dark, unlabeled bottle. I took it but didn’t drink. I was too interested in the way Heph was studying me.
“Really?” Hephaestus asked. “I should think that one connected with Loki would be used to anything.”
“How did you know I work for Loki?”
Heph leaned back, resting his tankard on his knee. He lifted one mammoth finger. “Your bracelet.”
“Aren’t there, like, a billion silver bracelets in the world?”
“Of course. But I never forget one of my creations.”
Stunned, I gaped at the bangle on my wrist. “You…you made this?”
“Long ago. Centuries before this one—” he lifted his chin to Marius “—was a gleam in his grandfather’s eyes.”
“Christ,” I said, amazed. “You remember making this of all things?”
Heph nodded. “Every piece I make carries a piece of me. I would recognize myself in that bracelet among a thousand that look just like it.” He took in my amazement and smiled tenderly. “How did you come by it?”
“Loki gave it to me just a couple of days ago. Birthday present.”
“Only a few days, hmm? Then you’ve probably not had the opportunity to see all that it can do.”
My jaw dropped. “It doesn’t happen to manipulate water, does it?”
His laughter was the shifting of tectonic plates. Heph answered my question only by shaking his head, bringing his tankard to his lips and drinking.
“Speaking of your creations, old friend,” Marius said, “what exactly happened to my sword back there?”
Hephaestus brought one marble foot to rest on a squat ottoman. “I made it, so I can change it,” he said simply. “How is your arm?”
I noticed that, except for his hair, Marius appeared to now be dry. Either Hephaestus had worked that magic in transit or the ambient heat of the room was sufficient to suck the moisture from his sopping clothes.
Marius looked down at his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt was scorched, the skin beneath it an angry red. “Bugger!” he hissed, poking at the hole in the tee. “Just like old times, I suppose. It’s not a night out with you unless someone’s clothes have burned off.”
Chapter Twenty
“Palm of Your Hand”
By the time sane people were waking up, Hephaestus had gone spelunking in the depths of his tankard, and Marius had finished both our bottles of brew. I sat back in my comfy chair, enjoying the tales they told. The stories gave a glimpse of Marius’s past, his days before Eris and his damnable curse.
Heph leaned toward me. “Now, Cat, you have to understand, in those days one did not just walk up to Aphrodite. No one but Zeus himself was allowed that privilege. If she bothered to look down her perfect nose at you, fine. You could bow and scrape and plead your troth to her until you were blue in the face. But striking up a conversation with Love and Beauty was a surefire way to find yourself without your skin.”
Marius pinched the bridge of his nose, face glowing with a jovial humility. “Gods, you’re not going on about this again, are you?”
“Shut up,” Heph barked. Turning back to me, he dove back into the story. “She’s standing there next to an enormous yellow tent. And there’s Marius, sauntering over to her with that smug, suave smile on his bastard face.”
“You know, I think I’m familiar with that smile,” I said, passing Marius a tormenting grin.
“Marius calls out, for all to hear, ‘My Lady! Dost thou fuck on the first date?’”
Abashed, Marius hid his eyes behind a hand. That did not, however, hide the crimson crawling up his cheeks.
The laughter began to build in Heph’s voice. “And then…the yellow tent…turned around!”
“Oh shit!” I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Ares, his enormous bulk stuffed into a yellow tunic, turns around. His face was red and angry as a star! The Lord of War raised his fist, and in an instant, Marius was on the ground.”
“I would think so!” I said. I looked to Marius. “You’re lucky you didn’t die.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” he said, still clearly embarrassed.
“Then what did you do?” I asked.
“I said, ‘Thank you, milord,’ and let Heph peel me off the ground!”
Marius’s laughter was drowned out by the hearty blasts coming from the god. When we’d all caught our breath, Marius gestured to Heph with a lazy hand. “If I’m not mistaken, that was the night you began courting Lady Aphrodite.”
Heph’s good will ebbed away and his attention turned to his tankard. “Don’t remind me,” he rumbled. “I’d just as soon forget that time.”
“Weren’t you two married?” I asked, recalling my high school mythology lessons.
“Briefly. Aphrodite and the other gods of Olympus took pity on me. Wasn’t that nice of them? When I found out that I was little more than a public relations move to make her look even better, I kicked her out.”
“That was a good night, too,” Marius mused. “Get anything nice in the divorce?”
“Only what she left behind. Trinkets and baubles from suitors. I’d always planned to melt it down in the Forge, but it’s all still in a box somewhere.”
My eyes began to cross. It had been a fun evening, but I was fading fast. After all, I had died about twenty-four hours ago. A little postmortem-and-resurrection lag was to be expected, I suppose.
Marius must have noticed, because when he spoke again, he tone was tender. “I suspect I shall have to get Catherine back to her bed soon.”
Heph smiled appreciatively, then placed his tankard on a stalagmite. “In that case, old friend, we must be about our business. What brings you here—of all places—when you’ve a price on your head?”
Marius shifted uneasily in his seat. “Heard about that, have you?”
“I hear everything. What are you looking for?”
“Hoped to hide in plain sight. Pay you a visit. And see if you might know where I might find a benefactor.”
“You mean a sucker?” he teased.
“An employer.”
“Hoping someone will pay off your debts and protect you from the raging mob with their torches and pitchforks?”
Marius bobbed his head. “Something like that. Know of anyone who might have need of a satyr’s skills?”
The god’s lip lifted in a smirk. “Depends on which of your skills you hope to market. Who are you trying to be, Marius? The fop with a winsome smile? The satyr who won the affections of Zeus’s favorite nymph? Or the beguiling thief who angered Discord? Those are different men with different paths.”
Marius’s face darkened. “I’d forgotten how philosophical you can get when you’re drunk.”
“It doesn’t make me wrong, though. Do you know who you wish to be?”
The ambient heat in the room coupled with my weariness to blur my vision. I blinked and tried to see Marius clearly. His green eyes met mine for an instant before he went out of focus again.
Reply hazy. Try again.
I’m not sure if I nodded off or not. The darkness was cool on my eyes. The sounds of the room grew muffled. A moment later, I heard Heph saying, “I am not the employer you seek, friend. You know that. I hold little power over the lords of Olympus, and with them allied against you, I am not enough to protect you or your interests. Not alone.”
I opened my eyes.
Marius sagged in his seat. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“I’m sorry. Ask anything else of me and I will do it.”
Waving him off, Marius said, “You owe me nothing.”
“It’s not about a debt, Marius. You’re a friend. Friends help one another.”
“Funny,” my satyr said with a pointed glance in my direction. “I’ve heard that a lot recently.”
Then I caught myself nodding off again, my head jerking as I woke up.
“I should get her back to the surface,” Marius murmured.
My limbs were limp and felt miles away as Marius slipped his arms beneath me and pulled me up to his chest. I let my head fall against his shoulder. Taking in the rhythm of his pulse, the scent of him, I sank into a blissful peace. I let myself drift, too tired to join in their conversation.
“There is one thing,” Marius said. “The amulet. Could you alter it, by chance, so that Eris cannot track me with it?”
There was a pause. “Probably,” Heph drawled. “Her enchantments are difficult to break, but it’s not beyond my skill.”
“I would consider it a favor if you could work that magic.”
“I’ll see what I can do and contact you soon. In the meantime, I’ll use what I have to shield the island. Give you and Cat some time and protection from outsiders.”
“Eris will be blaring the word out that we’re here,” Marius complained.
“But Santorini is still my domain. That is good for more than lip service. You will have time to rest and breathe, my friend.” Hard stone brushed over my forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to learn more about this mage. She is strong. One of my ilk.”
“Another time soon,” Marius promised.
“Stay close. Stay safe.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Up So Close”
Awareness flooded me as cool air blasted across my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I saw Marius and I were back on the shore. The salty wind tossed my hair and invigorated me as the sunrise cut the sky open until it bled red clouds.
“Good morning,” Marius said quietly.
I rubbed my eyes. The surface air—clean and downright brisk compared to the Forge’s heat—was enough to wake me up.
“Shall I carry you up to your room and put you to bed?” Marius’s eyes twinkled and his smile hitched.
“I’m good,” I said. “Put me down. I’ll walk.”
“As you wish.”
I wobbled as my feet met the sand, but after a few steps, I knew I could make it to the room.
Intrigued, I asked, “So that’s your buddy, eh?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave me a lopsided smile. “What do you think of him?”
“Not at all what I’d expected,” I admitted, pawing through my hair. “The myths all say he’s lame and ugly. But he’s not. Very much not.”
“You have to remember what the Greek ideal was at the time—pale, perfect proportions, not too tall and not too short. You might notice that Heph doesn’t fit that description. He has, therefore, always been the literal dark sheep of the family.”
“No shit. And to be made of marble and metal? That’s a pretty cool trick.”
One of my satyr’s hands gently slid down my spine, coming to rest at the small of my back as we mounted the stairs, closing in on my bungalow.
“It’s what he does,” Marius said. “The stories downplay his skills, likening him to a mere blacksmith. Truth be told, the man is much more like you—using magic and technology—than a typical god.”
I tried to process that, but my head felt full and fluffy. “So that’s what he meant by saying I’m one of his ilk?”
“Yes.”
As I keyed open my door, I turned to Marius. “I would invite you in, but all I’m going to do is fall down face-first and sleep for a year.”
“The past few days have been…”
“Yeah,” I said with a weak laugh. “They have been.”
He took my hand in both of his and brought it to his lips. “Thank you, Catherine. For everything. I don’t think I can say that enough.”
The kiss was a half shot of espresso, making my eyes widen and my heart race.
He stared at my hand in his, thumbs caressing my knuckles. “I wanted to ask you,” Marius’s voice was thin and breathy. “That is, if you don’t have any other plans…would you like to have our date tomorrow night? Or, well, tonight I suppose,” he added with a nod to the sunrise.
My stomach twisted, and excitement seeped into my blood in hot bubbles. Taking my hands from him, I fidgeted with my hair. “Our date.”
A warm smile went all the way to his leaf-green eyes. “Yes. The date,” he reiterated with emphasis.
I laughed. “The one I still owe you for saving my ass a few years ago.”
“That would be the one,” he said, rocking on his heels.
I tapped my fingers on the doorjamb and pretended to think about it. “I don’t know. If memory serves, back at YmFy you were trying to get rid of me. You said I’m free of that. I don’t owe you anything.”
Marius lifted his eyebrows. He leaned his elbow on the open door and reached out to stroke my hair with his other hand. “So I did. That was terribly stupid of me, wasn’t it?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
“Then allow me to amend the request.” He pushed away from the door and stood at full height. His expression soft but his eyes commanding my attention, he spoke. “Catherine, I would very much enjoy it if you’d do me the honor of joining me tonight as my date. No magic or coercion. You of your own accord.”
I giggled a little and dropped my gaze. “All right,” I consented. Mustering a bit of the same decorum he’d put into his words, I looked up and asked, “And what shall we do?”
“Well,” he purred, “I was thinking that I would like to cook for you. I’ve got a kitchen in my suite. I’ll send Malcolm out with an extensive shopping list, then kick him out of the room and you can come by around sunset. Just the two of us.”
“I’d like that,” I said, voicing the most incredible understatement of the century. The thought of spending an evening alone with Marius… And with Heph’s protection, maybe things would actually be calm. The possibilities of a night like that swirled in my mind. What adventures could we have, just us two, in a room alone?
My musings got a little too real, a little too scintillating. To cover with a bit of humor, I asked, “Black tie or casual?”
“Whatever you like,” Marius answered with an indulgent smile.
All the things I would have liked rose up in my mind, heart, and body like clamoring voices aching to be heard. I fought the urge to grab him by the shirt, pull him to me, and take him up on the offer right then and there. But I wouldn’t. The stupid curse of his meant that Marius and I could be nothing more than this. An odd kind of friendship with all sorts of paths that were off-limits. And even if he could, how much between us would be unrequited?
I shriveled at the idea, my stomach sinking. The last of the wind left my sails, and I sagged against the door.
“Go rest, Catherine,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of my head. As he backed away slowly, I saw his eyes sparkle with happiness. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Sleep well, Marius,” I drawled with exhausted joy.
I closed the door and shuffled across the room. Falling onto the mattress, I sighed and sank into darkness. While all the what-ifs and can’t-haves swirled in my thoughts, the bitch of Pandora’s bunch—hope—lit my way to bed.
***
I woke up to my heart pounding in my chest with panic. The dark velvet of dreamless sleep had slipped off somewhen in the night, leaving me vulnerable to the cold, gnashing teeth of nightmares. Ancient beings snarling with rage. Lightning and brimstone. Thick fingers around my throat. Marius’s back as he ran away. And the faces. Patchwork skin wrenched in a grimace. Dahlia’s exquisite features glaring with haughty disdain. The gray, scaly hide of a prince of Hell. So many faces leering hungrily from the shadows.
Dragging a hand across my forehead, I wiped the fine layer of sweat away and shivered. As I caught my breath, I put that same hand to my chest, as if I could still my manic pulse with the touch; however, the only thing I accomplished was to further punctuate my fear. My fingers grazed the bullet wound, and beneath my scarred flesh, I felt the fever-hot wires of the implant that had saved my life.
A piercing trill rang out and I whipped a fist toward the sound. Only when the plastic shattered around my hand did I realize the noise had com
e from the hotel phone. I sighed, embarrassed that I’d been so jumpy that I’d just smashed the phone to splinters, and I flopped back to the pillows. I let my mind wander and reacquaint itself with reality.
I’d fallen into bed around sunrise, and the clock said it was sometime past noon. I was in a posh resort off the coast of Greece, and I’d met a wicked-cool god. Eris knew we were here, though. Which meant there were probably other factions on their way searching for Marius.
In other news, I’d reached for technomagic and come up with water. How the hell had that worked? I’d seen Marius use elemental magic—bending air, water, and earth to his whims—but I’d never done that myself. Heph had said that the bracelet Loki had given me had powers but that the ability to play with water wasn’t one of them. Could it somehow be a result of the implant? I made a mental note to call Karma and ask her what other side effects it might have, since I was going to be living with it and all.
The more I pondered it, the more I didn’t loathe the idea of being alive. That burning ache, that horrible feeling of being ripped away from paradise, had abated somewhat. While I still felt like a piece of myself had gone walkabout, I didn’t hate Flynn for bringing me back from the Great Beyond. That was a step in the right direction.
My stomach let out a volcanic rumble.
Oh yeah. I hadn’t eaten since before I died. And I’d just destroyed the phone that would make room service happen. Great. Then I remembered something else.
I’ve got a date with Marius tonight.
Oh shit.
Before I could have my second panic attack of the morning, someone knocked on my door. I vaulted out of bed and met with a young man at the door. He wore a cream bellhop uniform and a gold name tag that read “Miklos.” His black eyes and coal-dark hair gleamed like coffee. My stomach lurched again. I needed to get something to eat with a quickness.