“Excuse me?”
She delivers the words so carelessly, so indifferently, my ego takes a hit.
“Is it any wonder Persephone wants nothing to do with you?”
Low blow. “You should recall you’re speaking to a god, Ileana. And while I may be unable to release you from your duties, I could take great pleasure in making them much, much worse.”
She jerks, as if surprised by the venom in my voice. She’s not alone. I always thought out of the three of us, Zeus was the one more stuck-up and filled with arrogance. Guess I was wrong.
Ileana stares at me for a long moment, then looks away. After what we’ve shared so far, and the fact I’ve come to see her as a friend, I would expect at least a fight. Something to bring me down a peg, to call me out on my bullshit. Instead, I get nothing. No frown, no expression whatsoever, other than a complete dismissal.
The rest of the night, she stands by and watches me drink myself into a stupor—in as much as a god can, which is not much.
And all along, I’m keeping an eye out for Persephone. Waiting for her to return, but too proud to find her and discover more. Her words haunt me. What did she mean, she gets more out of humans here than the gods at home?
And, more to the point, can I really pretend I don’t know what she means by that, when I myself have sought refuge among humans multiple times?
The mugs of ale stack up on the table, and still Ileana says nothing.
When the night passes and I’ve grown bored and weary of the events, she drags me back home through a portal. The rest is all darkness…
I wake the next morning with another dull ache in my head. Ileana is nowhere to be seen, and Frumos is in a sour mood. Two days go by in such silence, and it’s enough to make my teeth grind. Especially given the silence isn’t mental. No, in their own heads, both of my guards have plenty to say. Ileana continues to stay away, and it dawns on me that while I was busy snoring away, she filled Frumos in on what I’d said.
The last thing I’d wanted was to hurt her or cause this tension. But now that I have, my pride won’t let me undo it. The same way it doesn’t let me undo it by asking Persephone for forgiveness for the way I’d acted, for my presumptions, and adding stress on her.
In retrospect, I now realize trying to tell a goddess of Olympus what to do was idiotic at best. Incredibly harming at worst. But my stupid mouth ran off without me. And after all, I am the black sheep of Olympus. I may not know who she is, but she must know that, at least.
On the third day of my sour mood, I pull myself out of bed and get dressed, then pivot to Frumos. Ileana, as per the last few days, is gone again.
“Are you any good with that sword, immortal?” I ask him.
When us gods retired from the world of humans, that left us with few things to do. Most of us got bored and drew to vices. And then, some of us kept certain good habits. It has been a while since I’ve focused on mine.
Frumos looks up from a scroll he’d been reading. “Da, of course.”
“Good. Then you can entertain me today.”
Without explaining myself, I walk out of my area of the palace, stomping about with purpose. Rather than use the convenient portals, I take the stairs and go down the four flights of our mansion, before heading out toward the manicured lawn. I bypass it, knowing Frumos is following me, and instead continue onward until I find us a quiet spot by a stream.
Something must be going on for Olympus to be this empty, but I don’t really pay it attention. I’m too filled with energy I need to let go of.
Where in all hells is he taking me?
I ignore his question and instead face Frumos, gesturing to the area. “This should do.” I reach out, divine energy rushing through me. In my hands, I materialize a sword.
Frumos stares at me a second, then reaches into the fold of air itself. His hand shimmers, then out comes a different sword. Its blade attracts some rays of light. Damascus steel. How intriguing. These immortals keep surprising me.
He twirls the weapon in his grip, his eyes narrowing on my form. “Not the first time you’ve done this?”
“You could say that.”
I attack before he can, determined to get some of the steam out of me. He blocks me without a problem. I return to my original position, as he does. We’re mirror images of each other, left leg leading, swords held with both hands to the left shoulder, weight carried on the back leg. A trickle of competitiveness runs up my spine, and I grin.
Frumos side-steps to the right and brings his sword down, but I parry it at the perfect angle. Metal clangs as our blades clash.
“Not bad for a lazy god,” he says.
“Lazy?”
The jab has the desired effect, and I launch faster at him. Only, it seems we’ve both underestimated each other. For each of my parries, Frumos meets them and pushes me back. Each time I destabilize him, he brings me down with him.
“Are you this angry because of what I said to Ileana?” I ask in between strikes.
The quality of his lashing out changes, becoming even more determined. His jaw clenches. Shouldn’t have talked to her like that. But what did I expect from an Olympian?
“I was not even there,” he says out loud. “What is there to be angry about?”
“Something’s gotten up your butt, then.”
He laughs. “Of course you would believe that. Everything has to be about you.” His next attack is a bit too close to hurting me, but I move out of the way. “Have you ever considered that not everything revolves around you Olympians?”
What is it about these immortals that so easily gets under my skin? Perhaps it’s the fact they see me, and they don’t pretend otherwise. Instead, they make it a point to call me on my shit and force me into self-reflection.
Like Ileana did. Unwelcome, but also a wake-up call. How utterly…annoying. And destabilizing.
For once in my pitiful existence, I can’t bury myself in ambrosia. With a jolt, I realize I’ve barely had any the last few days, instead replacing that with sleeping. And thinking. Too much damned thinking.
Gods don’t self-reflect. They act. They do. They take. They…exist. To be faced with these creatures, it’s unsettling.
I hide my thoughts under another attack. Frumos parries too fast, and the sword nearly nicks my neck—I lean backward, and all it does is cut my shirt. I scowl at him.
Ileana chooses that moment to burst in, eyes narrowed on our swords. “Are you two done being idiots?”
There’s a chill in the air around her, even more so when she looks at Frumos. Or, rather, at a point above his head. Perhaps this has nothing to do with me, after all. Did I sleep through something interesting?
“Is this really a good idea?” Frumos asks the minute we’re out of the portal.
It took me the better part of another day to convince Frumos to accompany me to the human realm again. After our little parry lesson, and more self-reflection, I figured I had to at least try again with Persephone. It’s not like I can get her out of my mind. So, either I go insane—more than I already am—or I bite the bullet and talk to her.
“How do you even know she will be here?” Frumos asks.
“I don’t.”
Not true. I do, because I dreamed of her again last night. Her being Persephone.
“Why did I even bother asking?” he mutters.
I stop in my tracks and glower at him. “Are you done being annoyed at me? You can’t really protect me if you hate me.”
He scowls. “I do not hate you. I hate what you represent and how arrogant you are. Even for a deity.”
“Clearly, you haven’t been around my brother enough.”
“Nor do I wish it. Or Ileana.”
I run a hand over my face. “I am sorry for what I said to her.”
“It is not me you should be apologizing to.”
“Fair enough.”
And I will. Soon as I find Persephone and talk to her again. Just…once. I’ll make sure when I walk away tod
ay, it’ll be the last time. It has to be. I can’t be spending my days chasing vixens, it’d make me no better than Zeus.
Soon as I stop focusing on Frumos, thoughts of humans assail me. I try to block them off, seeking the one person I’m here to find. And, sure enough, her laughter draws me in.
“Steady.” Frumos grabs my arm and holds me back. “Take in the surroundings first.”
I ignore the jab—a poor reference to our previous sparring session—and instead do as he demands. Persephone is holding court, probably not even realizing it. Couples, and single humans, are hanging on to her every word.
She hasn’t yet seen me, which gives me a perfect chance to watch her, without doing anything. And that’s when I notice it again. Under all the radiance, under all the smiles, there’s a darkness there. Her words from before echo in my mind. Is that so hard to understand, that I’d rather be among humans who value me for who I am, rather than what I am and what I can or cannot do?
I didn’t bother listening to her, then. But now, I do. Whatever demons are haunting her, whatever her reason to be here, is it truly my right to interfere?
I don’t know how long I spend watching her. Conflicted. Undecided. Finally, after long enough, I pivot to Frumos and meet his stunned expression. “Let’s go.”
“Zeus sends word,” Ileana surprises me that night by saying. It’s just the two of us, since Frumos went on some errand or other. “The Council will reconvene at sundown.”
“Now you’re talking to me?” I can’t help the childish comment.
She hasn’t said a word for days, unless absolutely necessary, and it’s aggravating. Mainly because I know I must apologize. And I still haven’t.
Ileana shrugs and turns her back on me.
“Did he say anything else?”
“No.”
I wait for more, but it never comes. At least, not until I head toward the decanter of ambrosia.
I would’ve thought you heard enough from my thoughts.
I freeze and slowly pivot, narrowing my eyes on her expression. Eyebrows arched, arms folded over her chest, she seems expectant. And why not?
That’s yet another thing we never truly addressed. How she knew about my abilities, how she figured me out in days when I’ve eluded most deities.
A sigh escapes me. “When did you know, exactly?”
“That you can hear thoughts? After the first Council meeting, for sure. Before that? I had my suspicions.”
“Does Frumos know?”
“Not from me. But, he has mentioned your odd behavior.”
I shake my head. “I don’t get it. For eons, most of Olympus couldn’t figure me out. And you two come along, and already you see more than everyone else.”
Ileana shrugs. “Our duty is to watch you. We are bound to.”
“Ah.” I take a gulp of the ambrosia. “Well, then, I am sorry, about what I said that night. And how I said it. I was frustrated at all you could see.”
“Thank you. But to be clear, I do not take anything I said back.”
“I figured as much. Nor do I expect you to. And yes, you are correct about my inability to stay away from alcohol—ambrosia, the vices. But what you may have missed is I do this to numb the voices.”
“I did not miss it. But are there no better ways?”
How to explain what I have been going through, without sounding like a whiny child and the loner I am? There’s no way.
Frumos chooses that moment to step through the door, sparing me. “They’re reconvening now.”
I nod and follow them out the door. Time to dive into some more useless chatter.
Perhaps I’ll get lucky and Persephone will come to me.
Pegasus bounds up next to me as I’m waiting outside the atrium. We’re all lined up like cattle—deities from all pantheons—waiting to get inside. Since we’re practically magnets together, him and me, he has no issue finding me. Plus, my glowing immortal guards make me an easy target. For the first time, I realize that not all immortals have them, and those who do, have various colored glows.
I turn to Frumos. “What’s with the glows around you guys?”
“Different personalities,” he mutters.
I glance between him and Ileana meaningfully. “That why you two are so much the same?”
She snorts, he clenches his jaw, and that’s the end of it.
Wow. Whatever happened with them must be worse than I thought. Or better.
Pegasus nudges me, interrupting my thoughts. “Have you heard?”
“What?”
“Zeus officially won his bid for Olympus. The conclave relented to his ideas; he had undivided support. He’ll be supreme ruler before we know it.”
“Good for him.”
I didn’t hear, nor do I care. He’s my brother, but there is nothing left between us other than disdain and contempt. More on his part than mine. For my end, I would be perfectly happy if he chose to forget my very existence.
Not likely.
Pegasus watches me intently. I would’ve thought he’d have more of a reaction. How long has it been since Zeus held this over his head?
Long enough. Since Zeus found out just how different I am, all he’s done is hold his aspirations over my head and use them to berate me. If you make me lose this… If they start thinking I’m as crazy as you are… You’re my brother, you should have my best interests at heart… And on it went.
I’ve learned to ignore it, these last few centuries. Ambrosia has helped, as has my ability to get out of Olympus. Not anymore, I guess.
To add to it, it’s getting harder and harder to ignore thoughts. To avoid saying what I truly wish to say, responding directly. So instead of giving in to the trap with Pegasus, I focus on the crowd. There are more deities than before in the atrium, and we’re packed shoulder to shoulder. Word must have gotten out about the in-fighting.
And still, I keep seeking. Last time, I wasn’t aware of Persephone’s identity. Now I am. Surely, she should be somewhere here, listening in?
“What are you looking for?”
“Not what. Who.”
Pegasus arches an eyebrow. “Someone I know?”
“Maybe…” It occurs to me, had I been less proud, I could’ve gotten an answer to my question a while ago from him. “Persephone?”
Pegasus frowns. “You mean Demeter’s daughter?”
Demeter! That’s why she was familiar… I remember a youthful, carefree goddess. Her mother sits on the conclave that’s been in Zeus’ way for eons. My memories of her are few and sparse between—probably an indication of the centuries I’ve spent completely drunk.
But how would she have ended up among humans? Why would she prefer them to our kind? Something tells me Demeter didn’t allow her daughter to part merrily. After all, I recall in Demeter a fierce goddess with an iron fist. Not someone easily swayed.
“Yes, her,” I mutter.
Pegasus tilts his head to the side. He knows me too well and sees past my short reply. “How did you run into her?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.” His eyes shine with amusement. “It has been a long, long, long—”
“I get it!”
“—time since I’ve last seen you so, hmm, invested.”
“I’m not invested.”
And there he goes again with the petulant attitude, Ileana thinks behind me. I throw her a glare over my shoulder just so she knows I heard her. Her smile tells me that was her intent all along.
In an effort to avoid a full-on conversation with her, I let out a low growl and focus on Pegasus. “Remember the woman I was seeking, at the last party we went to?”
Pegasus nods. “Among the humans?”
“Yes. That was Persephone. She just…caught my attention, is all.”
He chuckles and slaps my back. “Whatever you say, brother. Well, to answer you, yes, I do know her, but you should save your efforts. She never comes to these things.”
“Why?”
He
shrugs. “Bit of a recluse, or so they say. Overbearing mom and all.”
Pegasus would know, he’s aware of everything going on in here.
“And…” He trails off, but at my expectant expression, finishes with, “There are rumors something’s wrong with her.”
I recall the darkness I’d felt. Overshadowing her radiance, once I caught on to it. Could the rest of the deities be aware of that, too? Is that why she doesn’t want to be in Olympus?
At a loss, I ask, “Like what?”
“Not showing a proficiency of powers. She’s meant to be spring personified, but the last party Zeus gave, she couldn’t make a single flower blossom.”
Something about that image rings a bell. Enough to make me uneasy. “Was I at that party?”
Pegasus gives me an odd look. “Of course. You’re the one who suggested she provide entertainment.” When I say nothing, he adds, “By showcasing her powers.”
I stumble back at his words, delivered in an indifferent tone. Frumos steadies me with his hand on my shoulder, while Pegasus frowns at me.
Frumos’ touch has the unwelcome effect of drilling his thoughts straight into my mind. …and now she won’t talk to me? Insane. Why must all women act so sensitive over things that we men don’t even overthink? How could I have known she was still touchy about—
I yank myself out of his grip, stumbling into another god.
He glares at me. “Go drink somewhere else, Hades. No one needs you here.”
I clench my fist, trying to stifle the anger rising inside me. There are too many people around, too many things that can go wrong, but all I want in that moment is a chance to finally let loose some of the energy driving me crazy.
Hades.
My gaze snaps to Ileana’s.
“Breathe,” she mouths. Take a deep breath before you have another attack. Zeus will not like it.
I listen to her and do as she demands. Then my thoughts focus back on the whole reason for my reaction. Persephone.
I’d rather be among humans who value me for who I am, rather than what I am and what I can or cannot do.
Secret Shadows: A Greek God Paranormal Romance (Immortal Rogues Book 1) Page 7