Out of Cake Aphrodite (The Goddess Chronicles Book 6)

by S. E. Babin

  One of her eyebrows rose. “Let’s see.” She raised one finger. “Hates authority. Check. Has a love-hate relationship with his powers. Check. Hates responsibility. Check -”

  “I do not hate responsibility!”

  The side of her mouth quirked up. “Truly? You live on your own. You’ve shunned Olympus and almost all of the immortals. You had to be threatened with imprisonment before you agreed to assist Zeus. You - “

  I groaned. “I get it. Stop.”

  “You asked.” She lifted her pinky up primly and took a sip.

  “I don’t know why I like you sometimes,” I grumbled.

  “Because I am wise and helpful,” Clotho responded.

  “But mostly a pain.”

  “That too,” she agreed.

  “I can’t figure out a reason he would take Artie.”

  “Child, sometimes there is no reason or motive.”

  “What does that even mean?” I set my cup on the table and lay back on the couch, careful to keep my feet off it for fear of suffering her wrath about proper guest manners.

  “Have you ever wondered if maybe he’s just lonely?”

  I snorted. “You don’t kidnap people just because you’re lonely.”

  Her gaze shuttered. “You have no idea the lengths people will go to for companionship when they’ve been starved of it.”

  I sat up slowly and stared at her.

  The silence fell dark and gloomy. I’d been remiss in many things. I’d never taken the time to wonder about my relationship with her, to realize that I hadn’t quite treated her like a friend, only a tool. I’d taken her prophecies. I’d used her for help. I’d barged in on her shop.

  I’d taken, taken, taken from her.

  But had I given her anything back?

  Regret swelled inside me and filled me with a sense of self-loathing the likes of which I’d never before experienced. The Fates had no friends that I knew of. They were the prophets, the soothsayers. They terrified us even as they fascinated us. We traveled to them. We asked for their guidance. We feared them. But none of us that I knew had ever given anything to them.

  I was a terrible, selfish person.

  And I knew that Artie could take care of herself.

  At least for a little while.

  “Do you like cookies?” I asked Clotho.

  The look of confusion that stole over her face was worth the possibility of death I was taking with what I did next.

  I stood up and before she could figure out what was happening, I grabbed her by the arm and teleported us both out of there.

  A ball of fire magic was pointed at my face when we stopped. Clotho’s chestnut hair spun out around her head making her look like the poster child for a Poltergeist film.

  I let go and stepped away from her. My hands were held up as I backed away. “Easy, Clotho. Easy. I took you to my house.”

  Hilarious confusion settled over her expression, but she didn’t extinguish the fire. I prayed to all the gods I didn’t like that she wouldn’t set yet another house on fire. I was beginning to feel decidedly unlucky in that aspect.

  “Your house?”

  I nodded.

  “Why?” The ball flickered slightly.

  “Because I wonder if you’ve ever baked before.”

  The ball flickered even more and dimmed a little.

  I blew out a slow breath.

  She stared at me in suspicion. “Why?” she asked again.

  “Because everyone, no matter whether they’re human or immortal, should have the chance to experience certain things. And today I think you should experience baking. With a friend.”

  Something that looked suspiciously wet appeared in her eyes. The ball of flame extinguished in her hands. “I like cookies.”

  I put my hands down and wiped the wetness away on my leggings. Perhaps I should have warned her, but it was one of the few times I’d ever seen her let her guard down and I couldn’t let the moment pass. “Good. Follow me.”

  I led her through the house and pointed out some things along the way. I’d lost most of my belongings a few months ago and hadn’t had the chance to start replacing many things yet. Clotho stopped in my living room and noticed my lack of decent furniture.

  “I know a place you may like.” Her mouth curled at the state of my hand me down couch. “Perhaps we can go together sometime.”

  I kept walking so as not to spook her. “I’d like that very much.”

  When we stepped into the kitchen, she let out an ooh of appreciation. I grinned. I felt the same way every time I stepped in here.

  One thing I had to admit about Hades is he knew his way around a comfortable home and he never batted an eye at any of my suggestions for my kitchen even though he was footing the bill for it. I had a massive slab of granite for my kitchen island. A Viking stove, a commercial refrigerator, massive sink and cabinets out the yin yang. Now that I’d been on my own for so long I’d learned to cook, bake and even love it. The kitchen was my little haven and I’d found baking anything lowered my stress levels tremendously.

  Even though Hades lived in the Underworld, the parts of it he kept for his personal quarters were done in his style. He didn’t begrudge me my own little slice of Heaven. A pang of regret zinged through me.

  I owed him an apology. A big one.

  I went to the walk-in pantry and gathered the ingredients we needed to make chocolate chip cookies. Flour, sugar, brown sugar, baking soda, the works. I took the special, expensive chocolate chips out because it was Clotho and she deserved them. I tossed her an apron and tied one around my neck.

  “What about the Huntress?” she asked.

  “She will be fine for a little while,” I said and I knew in my heart that it was true. We were survivors and even though Zeus wasn’t high on my favorite’s list right now, it was still against the law to harm another immortal. It was a law I knew Zeus would enforce. Plus Artemis was his daughter and he was the one who’d alerted us to it. Of course, he could always risk his life and go after her, but he wouldn’t go that far. Woe to the person who messed up his hair. Or blew up his house.

  She was tougher than me in a lot of ways. And I knew she would appreciate the reason for my delay even though she probably wouldn’t believe it.

  Clotho slipped the apron around her neck and secured it. I gathered the rest of the tools and mixer and set them down on the massive island.

  I picked up a wooden spoon and waved it at Clotho. “Ready?”

  Her silvery eyes sparked with genuine excitement. “If you are!”

  Baking with Clotho was fun in a slightly terrifying way. Her genuine enthusiasm for my kitchen was infectious, but she handled the cookie dough with all the aplomb of an NFL player trying ballet for the first time. By the end of it, we had some passable cookies and I needed a drink.

  Clotho was covered in flour and pieces of cookie dough but the grin on her face was exhilarated. “We should do that again. When we can we do that again?”

  I snorted with laughter. “Maybe after I find Artie.”

  “And Persephone,” she murmured.

  I lifted my head from the island and pushed a few stray curls out of my face. “How’d you know that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you keep asking me that.”

  “Right.” I didn’t take my eyes from her. “We’ve never talked about the management switch.”

  She laughed merrily. “Aphrodite, I promise you, you almost make being a Fate worth it.” She shook her head. “Management switch. Like this is a sitcom.”

  “Wasn’t sure what else I should call it,” I grumbled. I picked up a cookie and shoved half of it in my mouth.

  “The frying pan, child. That’s what it is. You’ve jumped from the shrimp pot into the skillet. It’s different but it’s just as dangerous, if not more so.”

  She was right about that. I thought about our particularly heated makeout session. Hades felt...different. I didn’t feel exactly safe or comfortable with h
im. Not quite. I knew I was safe in a logical sense because I was an asset to him. And I knew he was easy to talk to. I also knew he was brilliant and powerful. But every time I was around him I felt a little off-kilter.

  “His motives are different.”

  Did Clotho just crawl into my brain and pluck that piece out? I wish she’d stop doing that. “How so?” I asked, not even bothering to chastise her about reading my mind.

  She studied me, her gaze wise and knowing.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she knew Hades’ secret. How was that even possible? Even her reach stopped when it came to the Underworld. Didn’t it?

  I said nothing.

  “He is unlike you or me or Zeus or anyone else. There’s something different about Hades. Something that seems almost...human. He loves deeply, despises deeply, but he also has moments of compassion that we do not.” She paused and frowned. “Well, most of us do not. You and your gang are a little bit different than the rest of us now, aren’t you?”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I said over a mouthful of cookie.

  “You also have appalling manners.”

  “Thanks, Clotho.”

  “Stop talking with your mouth full.”

  She snagged a cookie and chewed a piece thoughtfully. Of course, she finished chewing before she spoke again. She didn’t have appalling manners.

  “I saw Hermes,” I said. And immediately regretted it. Why did I tell her that?

  “Oh?” Her eyebrows lifted in interest. “And how did that go?”

  “Terrible. He couldn’t keep his hands off Dike.”

  Clotho tossed her cookie down on my island and I winced because she didn’t use a napkin. Chocolate smeared on the granite.

  “Have you learned nothing from my guidance?”

  I wasn’t sure she guided me as much as told me what to do and then threatened to kill me if I failed to do it the way she told me to, but I felt it unwise to mention that so I gave her my fall-back deer in the headlights stare.

  She snorted in amusement. “You learned the origins of the prophecy. You defeated Cronus -”

  “With help,” I corrected.

  She waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. You have a powerful responsibility to the immortals, Aphrodite. Do you really think Hermes is the one to see you through that?”

  My lips tightened and my throat grew dry. Her words should have made me angry. So why did they resonate? Was Hermes powerful enough to accept my eventual role in this world? When the going got tough what did he do? Sometimes he ran. At least for a little while. But...I acted like a total jackass when I agreed to that competition with Typhon. I banked on him loving me enough to do it. But he refused. After all, why should he have to prove himself over and over again to me when he’d already risked his life and the wrath of his father multiple times before?

  “I don’t know the answer to that question,” I finally said.

  Disappointment. That’s the look she gave me. She was disappointed in me.

  “I don’t.” I clarified. Which really clarified nothing at all.

  I did know the answer to that question.

  I was just too terrified to voice it. If I voiced it, it would make it real. And I was clinging tightly to the hope that Hermes and I would be able to work this out. Because I did love him.

  But I wasn’t sure love was enough.

  Immortals were different in that regard. We loved and loved and loved and we lost over and over and over again. We were immortal. Life was not short for us. Nor was it easy. Hermes professed his love to me multiple times but could it last for the rest of our lives when there was no end to our lives? Could he really love me and move on so quickly? I’d pined for him and seeing him with Dike was a stab in the heart. I’d reacted. And I’d abused the trust that Hades and I had developed.

  I stood abruptly. “I need to apologize to someone.” I tossed my apron off. “Are you good in here for awhile?”

  Clotho stared at me. “Uh yeah. I’m immortal and have this cool ability to open doors. Plus,” she waggled her fingers, “teleportation.”

  I shut my eyes for a moment and let the stupid wash over me. I’d been around mortals for too long. “Right,” I said. “Immortal. Got it.”

  With a wave of my hand, I vanished.

  Hades sat cross-legged in his library watching me with a cool, blank expression on his handsome face. “Aphrodite,” he acknowledged. “Would you like something to drink?”

  I hesitated to piss off his resident ghost, Tilly. I nodded. “Water, please.”

  The ghost hovering in the back of the room made its way over to me and slowly poured me a glass of cool spring water. I still had no idea how she managed to pick up the pitcher or anything else for that matter but I wasn’t curious enough to ask Hades. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know the answer to that question. Reanimated spirits weren’t in my wheelhouse.

  I took a sip of water. Hades stayed silent.

  I swallowed, took a breath and immediately started to ramble.

  “Hades, look, I’m really, really sorry and I know I said I never ever wanted to speak about it, but communication is good, right? Especially since I’m supposed to be working for you and this is supposed to be for awhile and I never, ever meant to kiss you or make out with you or any of that stuff and yet, there I was, angry at Hermes and pissed off at the world and dare I admit I was a little bit lonely too? So what do I do? I use one of the few weapons at my disposal that should never, ever be abused and I turn on my glamour full blast and I know it was wrong, and I’m sorry and I just want you to know that it wasn’t your fault and you couldn’t control it and that it will never, ever happen again. Okay?”

  By this time Hades eyes had widened and he was open mouthed staring at me, and I felt like a jackass because why did I always say something completely asinine when I had the chance to be sincere? I always tried to be sincere, but then I said too much and felt like a dummy. I opened my mouth and started again much to my consternation.

  “You don’t have to say anything at all. I just wanted to offer my apologies. I understand you’re married and I understand that I took advantage of you and I promise for as long as I am alive I will never ever have my glamour on around you again.” I paused and thought about what I had just promised. “Unless it’s a life or death situation, okay? Or...I have a date.” I trailed off lamely. “Or it’s Halloween.” I sighed. I was such a dork.

  Hades was still staring at me wide-eyed and I took that as my cue to leave.

  I set my glass on the table. “Right,” I said and waved awkwardly before I disappeared from the room.

  Chapter 6

  Hades

  Abby disappeared from the room before I had the chance to respond and, frankly, I was relieved because while she is one hell of a woman, she can also be mentally exhausting. Seconds later, my father reappeared in the room, disapproval written all over his stern countenance.

  “You will allow her to think she holds power over you?” he asked. Scorn dripped from his voice and, once again, I was reminded of how little he actually understood concepts like love. Of course, God created love, but His idea of it and the way it had evolved was violently different.

  I ran a shaky hand through my hair and blew out a frustrated breath. “It’s for the best.” And it was. If Abby believed she was the cause of what happened between us it would solve all of our problems. It was selfish, but it was rare a handy solution to a difficult problem landed so easily into my lap.

  “You. Are. Divine,” my father bit out between clenched teeth.

  I chuckled at his sheer ignorance. “And so is she, Father.”

  He shimmered with magic. “There is no other Divine than the one I’ve created.”

  “Then you are living under a rock. You refuse to acknowledge it, but you see it. Your stubbornness has weakened you. Aphrodite holds more power than many of us.”

  “Not you.”

  “No,” I agreed. “Not me.”

  “Then
why do you allow her to believe her magic affects you?”

  “Because I made a terrible error, Father. One I regret and one I hope never happens again.” I was lying. I definitely wanted it to happen again. What in the hell was wrong with me?

  He growled in frustration and lowered his bulky body into the seat Abby had just vacated. “Persephone is not good enough for you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Even though he didn’t understand certain concepts the way we did, at his core he was still a father who believed no girl was ever good enough for me.

  “Perhaps. She is still my wife.”

  Father grunted. “In name only.”

  If people could hear him speak right now they would keel over in their pews. “I care for her.”

  Amusement lit his face and made his gray eyes sparkle. “Do you now?”

  We’d had this argument dozens of times. “You know I do.”

  “You don’t look at her the same way you just looked at the blonde woman.”

  He was right. “Abby isn’t merely a woman, Father.”

  He stroked his beard and looked thoughtful. “No. No, she isn’t, son.”

  I hated that look. “Stay out of it. Please, do not involve yourself.”

  “You don’t need anyone to work for you.”

  I stayed silent.

  “You also don’t need anyone to find Persephone. You know exactly where she is.”

  “Stay out of it,” I said again, steel edging my voice.

  Curiosity now outweighed his anger and I knew I would have to tread very, very carefully from here on out.

  “What’s your endgame here?” he asked.

  I affected a heavy sigh and skewered him with a look of extreme annoyance. “Does there have to be an end game?”

  He laughed out loud, a booming voice of amusement that rang out through the library. “If you are my son and I know that you are, there is definitely an endgame.” His gaze narrowed. “I do not understand why you continue to pretend Persephone has your heart.”

  “She does.” It was an automatic answer and one I had been conditioned to give over the years.