Winter of the Gods

by Jordanna Max Brodsky

  “We’re all doing things we shouldn’t tonight,” Selene said finally.

  “Only because I should’ve done it a long time ago,” Flint replied.

  Gabi laughed loudly. “I’m sure Ruth’s been hoping her couch would see some action, but I doubt this is what she had in mind. How ’bout we set aside the telenovela for a second?” She gave Theo a look of compassion and his elbow a hard warning squeeze. She feels bad for me, he realized, because even she thinks Flint is a better match for Selene than I am, and she only just met him.

  Gabi turned to Flint. “How about you start, Mr. Rumbly Sexy, by telling us how you escaped?”

  Flint directed his explanation to Selene. “They let Dash and me out of the net so they could march us back to their mithraeum—figured we were too injured to run. Took my leg braces just in case … but not my phone. Must’ve thought it’d be useless underground. When we were passing a utility hatch, I sent a signal to the braces to explode. Then I escaped through the hatch and ran.” His mouth twisted in a bitter parody of a smile. “I crawled. Dash and Philippe—they were up ahead of me, near the Pater. I couldn’t save them.” His face tightened with self-loathing. “I found an exit into the subway and grabbed on to the back of a passing train. There was a homeless man with one leg in the station when I got off. He had a crutch.”

  Theo noticed Flint didn’t mention how that crutch wound up in his possession. I see kisses aren’t the only thing he steals. He couldn’t hide his anger as he asked, “How did you know to come to Ruth’s?”

  Flint didn’t bother looking at Theo when he replied; if he felt any shame at having just pawed another man’s girlfriend, he didn’t show it. “I had that woman’s phone number. I tracked it here, hoping she’d be with you.”

  “Ah.” He had Gabi’s phone number because I gave it to him. Great. Selene, he noticed, hadn’t looked at him since Flint’s kiss.

  “There’s no time to waste.” Flint’s biceps flexed into large spheres as he struggled to raise himself from the couch. “We have to get Philippe and Dash.” He fell back with a strangled groan, pressing at the long bandage across his abdomen.

  “He shouldn’t move,” Hansen said evenly. “He strains that wound, and it opens right back up again. And this time I can’t promise the intestines won’t come out with it.”

  Selene patted the tape around the gauze, sticking it back into place. “We’ll find the others, don’t worry,” she assured Flint. His stomach clenched into a six-pack at her touch. She turned to Hansen. “You changed your mind yet about helping us? Tell us where the next sacrifice is. And when.”

  The captain merely crossed her arms, every inch as stubborn as Selene. “You know I can’t do that.”

  Theo finally dislodged Gabi’s hand on his elbow and took a step toward Selene. “We can figure this out without her.” And without Flint, he amended silently. He ran through the Mithraic rituals in his head. Tauroctony, Feast, Procession of the Sun-Runner. “The ascension of Mithras to heaven in the Sun’s chariot,” he said aloud. “That must be the final rite. It parallels the ascension of Jesus to heaven. As for timing …” Suddenly, it all made horrible, perfect sense. “What better day to honor Sol Invictus and resurrect Jesus than the birthday they share?”

  Selene finally looked at him. “December twenty-fifth.”

  “With everything going on, I didn’t even remember that today’s Christmas Eve. At midnight …”

  “Philippe and Dash will die.”

  “Unless we find them first.”

  “And defeat the Host once and for all.”

  As she spoke, Theo felt something snap back into place. They were working out the options, decoding the clues, facing unknown dangers—together. No matter what Flint meant to her, Theo was still her partner.

  “But what about your injury?” he asked. “You can’t fight with …” He looked pointedly at her right arm.

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said sternly. “My only concern is their weapons. Their guns probably can’t hurt me, but the other items …”

  Suddenly, Gabi cleared her throat with a dramatic, “A-hem! What do you mean guns can’t hurt you? Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Before Theo could devise some clever explanation, Ruth spoke. “Selene can’t be killed by a gun. And probably our new friend can’t either. Because they’re not human.”

  “Ruth—” Theo began. “That’s not—”

  “They heal at a rate that defies the laws of human biology. I saw what happened to Flint with that candle, and I saw a video of Selene healing, too.” She stared at the two Athanatoi defiantly. “You’re aliens.”

  “Oh, shitballs,” Gabi said, her tone hovering between incredulity and hilarity. “That explains so much.”

  Hansen loosed a croaking laugh. “Aliens? Oh, hon, if only it were that simple.”

  “Wait … what?” Ruth’s face scrunched in confusion. “Mutants, then?”

  Selene and Flint exchanged a glance. Theo knew he had to say something before the Athanatoi took matters into their own hands. There’s a good chance they’re conspiring to knock Ruth and Gabi unconscious and give them some amnesiac drug. For once, he didn’t want to help protect the gods’ identities. Ruth was right about one thing—he’d been lying for far too long. If Selene could find a way to trust the family she’d disdained for so long, she could find a way to trust his closest friends.

  “She’s a goddess,” he said.

  Gabriela snorted. “I’ve heard that before.”

  “No. Not figuratively. Literally.”

  Selene glowered, but didn’t contradict him. Maybe she too was tired of the lies. Or maybe she was just too tired in general.

  “A goddess …” Gabi repeated, with about as much conviction as she would say “unicorn” or “openly gay Republican.”

  Ruth’s jaw hung slightly open. Her scientific mind understands the probabilities of extraterrestrial life, Theo realized. But goddesses? She barely believes in God.

  He held Selene’s gaze for a moment. You owe me this, he demanded silently. These are my friends, and they’ve risked their lives for you. As if she heard him, Selene took a deep breath and held out her left hand to Gabi. “Nice to meet you. I’m over three thousand years old. My name’s Selene, but it hasn’t always been. They call me the Huntress.”

  Gabi, eyes saucer-wide, put her hand tentatively in Selene’s. “Artemis.”

  “Mm-hm.”

  “No no no no no.” She dropped Selene’s hand and rounded on Theo. “You didn’t start dating a fucking mythological immortal and NOT TELL ME!”

  Theo winced. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that withholding such juicy gossip was Gabi’s most pressing concern.

  “And that means,” she went on, pointing an accusatory finger at Flint, “that the weirdly sexy guy with the amazing abs and the paralyzed legs is Hephaestus.” She spun to the captain. “And who are you? Demeter? Hera?”

  “Just Geraldine Hansen,” the captain said calmly. “As mortal as you are.”

  “Gabriela …” Ruth began, still looking stunned. “Don’t tell me you believe this.”

  Gabi dismissed her concerns with a wave of her hand. “Please, chica, you can’t be an anthropologist like me and not wonder at some point if all the religions of the world are just fooling themselves or if there’s really something out there. I’ve listened to enough Navajo shamans talk about their chats with Spider Grandmother out in the desert to at least consider they’re not just deluded or stupid or lying. And if Spider Grandmother is out there, why not the Olympians, too?”

  Ruth sank to the floor. Not quite a faint, but not far from it.

  Selene just shrugged. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, can we get back to figuring out how to find some weapons to get through the Pater’s army?”

  “Here.” Flint patted awkwardly at his leather jacket. “The inside pocket.”

  Selene reached inside, hand brushing his bare chest, and withdrew a small paper env
elope.

  “Open it,” the Smith rumbled. “It’s for you.”

  She tipped the envelope into her hand. A cord of forged gold spilled forth, as thick around as her little finger. From where he stood, Theo could see its intricate engraving but couldn’t make out the specific design.

  “It’s,” Selene began, “a necklace?” Theo’d never seen her wear jewelry of any kind.

  “It’s got its hidden secrets, just like you,” the Smith mumbled before falling back into unconsciousness.

  Clearly confused, Selene slipped the necklace into the pocket of her pants. Theo was grateful she didn’t put the gift around her throat. He wasn’t sure he could bear the sight.

  Hansen checked the sleeping man’s pulse and proclaimed it steady. “He needs rest,” she insisted. “So do we all.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Gerry?” Selene said, gathering her jacket. “If we all just sat this part out and no one had to get hurt. Let your comrades finish their mission. But I can’t give up on what I believe in any more than you can. So if all the Smith can give me is jewelry, I’m going to need to go hunting for a better divine weapon.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Theo said quickly.

  To his surprise, Selene didn’t protest. “Gabriela, you’ve got a gun,” she said. “Don’t let the captain leave, and don’t let her call her friends. Tie her up again if you have to. Ruth, I’ll leave Hippo here as backup in case someone from the Host shows up. And … look after Flint, okay?”

  Ruth gave a vague nod of agreement, and Gabi looked liable to burst with a thousand questions—but Selene was already out the door.

  Chapter 40

  THE CHASTE ONE

  An icy wind whipped against Selene’s face as she exited the subway, but her lips still burned from Flint’s kiss. Theo walked beside her down West Eighty-eighth Street as they headed toward her house. She kept an eye on the buildings and rooftops they passed, watching for possible pursuit—and conveniently avoiding his eyes. She could feel him looking at her, waiting for her to say something. They’d barely spoken since they left Ruth’s apartment.

  “I didn’t tell him to kiss me,” she finally snapped.

  “That’s an awesome apology.” His lightness sounded forced.

  “Why should I apologize? Because I didn’t punch him in the face? Weren’t you the one who told me to stop doing that?”

  “Terrible timing on my part, as usual.”

  “It was just a kiss, for Kronos’s sake!” Selene looked at him finally, not bothering to hide her anger. “He was probably half-delirious anyway. I’m sure it didn’t mean anything to him.”

  Theo stopped in his tracks and stared at her incredulously. “Just a kiss. This from a woman who turned a man into a stag because he dared to spy on her naked. How many men have you kissed before today? Not including some chaste peck from a relative. Huh?”

  She scowled for a full thirty seconds before answering. “Two.”

  “Exactly. Orion. Me. And I’d like to believe that they meant something to you. So I know Flint’s kiss did, too.”

  She gave an exasperated huff that sounded nearly like a scream. “I don’t know what it meant to me, okay?”

  Theo’s face darkened. “Why not?”

  “Because you’ve had more experience with women in your thirty years than I’ve had with men in my three thousand. I just lost my twin. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to feel anything ever again. And then Flint showed up and … I don’t know what happened. And I don’t want to think about it. So just let it go.”

  Theo nodded curtly, then started off down the sidewalk, his shoulders stiff.

  Selene followed, her mind still whirring. She had far more important concerns than her feelings for Flint. Yet she couldn’t forget the feel of his mouth. His beard coarse against her chin, his lips rough. He’d tasted like smoke. It hadn’t been pleasant, exactly—not like the way she’d so often melted into Theo—but some spark had coursed through her body nonetheless. She could’ve pulled away sooner. She hadn’t. Flint barely knows me, she reminded herself. We’ve spent more time together in the last few days than we have in the last few millennia. And he’s spent most of the time brooding and growling and tinkering. He’s just attracted to me because I’m out of reach. I’m sure before this week, he’d barely thought of me. She tried to ignore the tap of the heavy gold necklace in her pocket as she walked. He’d made it for her. So he’d been thinking about her before he left his forge. Maybe since their encounter in Orion’s cave earlier that fall.

  She caught up to Theo a few doors down from her brownstone. Yellow police tape hung across her stoop, but she didn’t see any unmarked cop cars on the street. The neighbors would’ve reported gunshots, but hopefully they hadn’t seen the flying man. Even if they had, she suspected Gerry would’ve buried the report. That was one advantage to having a secret Mithraist on the force.

  “Hansen’s cops probably searched the place,” she said. “Let’s hope they didn’t find our last remaining divine weapon.”

  Theo gave a noncommittal grunt of assent.

  Suddenly she was furious. “You’re the one always going on about how we should tell each other the truth. How dare you sulk because I finally did!”

  Theo’s face flushed. “Oh, I’m sorry. You can clam up whenever you want, refuse to meet my goddamn eyes, but the minute I need some time to process the fact that you liked kissing your own stepbrother, you’re offended?” He headed toward the house, muttering, “Let’s just get in there and get out again.”

  “Don’t try to force your human standards of morality on me. Flint and I are barely related,” she called after him. When he didn’t turn around, she shouted, “You didn’t have to come, you know!”

  He rounded on her. “No. That’s where you’re wrong. I did. Because I don’t want you roaming the streets alone with who knows what sort of asshole chasing you with a trident or a caduceus or your own bow. Because I can’t bear the idea of you trying to fight when you can only use one arm, and I’m not there to help. Because the sight of someone else kissing you feels like being punched in the gut, but the thought of someone hurting you feels like being stabbed right here”—he pounded his heart with a clenched fist—“with a goddamn butcher knife. Because I love you.”

  They stood in the middle of the sidewalk in silence. The neon icicles from the neighboring building cast a wavering blue light across Theo’s face. Selene felt as if she were underwater, Theo floating beside her, his hand outstretched. All she had to do was reach for it. All she had to do was tell him she loved him, too.

  I do, she realized. I love that he’s willing to do anything for me, that he can’t bear to lose me, that he cares for me despite everything I’ve done to push him away. I love that he’s stronger than he’ll admit, and handsomer than he knows, and just as smart and funny as he thinks he is. But she said none of it. She turned toward her house. She got a single step before Theo put his hand on her arm.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.” His voice was hard. “You owe me that at least.”

  “I can’t,” she managed.

  Impulsively, she reached for his face and pulled him into a kiss. She’d intended simply to stop his further questions. Instead, she kissed him long and hard, her lips full of everything she couldn’t allow herself to say. Full of the song Theo stitched across her heart, the one that Apollo had known the words to, but that she couldn’t yet bear to sing aloud.

  When she finally relaxed her grip, she looked Theo straight in the eye. “That’s also the truth,” she admitted softly. “In the only way I can tell you.”

  He nodded, and lifted a finger to wipe away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed. He kissed her again, gently this time. She kissed him back, lingering over his touch just long enough to let him know she didn’t want it to end. When they parted, a smile quirked his lips, bringing a dimple to his right cheek. “Then let’s go break into your house.”

  His green eyes glowed, a reminder
of spring amid the winter cold. A sudden fear drained the answering smile from her lips—the moment was too perfect. Too easy. She expected an arrow to fly through the night and take him away.

  But that didn’t happen.

  Instead, their plan went off without a hitch. With no sign of Mithraic pursuers or police surveillance, they hopped over the yellow tape and Selene jimmied open the deadbolts on her front door. They slipped inside the darkened house and locked the door behind them. She pulled out a flashlight borrowed from Ruth—she didn’t need the light, but she knew Theo did—and led the way up the stairs and into her bedroom. Her meager possessions lay strewn about—whether by the Corvus who’d attacked her or the police who’d answered the neighbors’ calls, she couldn’t be sure. Cotton underwear and overlarge shirts, cargo pants and flannels. A few books Theo’d left behind, along with several piles of his clothes. Splintered wooden arrows lay like kindling across the floor.

  On the far wall, the only piece of art in her house hung askew. Theo had given it to her—a photo of the ancient bell-krater once stolen by Orion from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The red-figure painting on the vessel’s side showed Artemis, Apollo, and Leto. It was the closest thing she had to a photo of her mother and brother. She lifted it carefully from the wall and laid it facedown on the bed. She couldn’t bear to look at it. Not yet.

  The wall behind the photo showed no sign of disturbance. She picked a broken arrow from the ground and jammed its point into a nearly imperceptible divot in the plaster. The arrowhead went right through into the hollow wall behind. She twisted it like a key in a lock then wrenched it out: a large chunk of plaster came with it. She reached down into the hole—and pulled out a sword.

  In the darkness of the room, the leaf-shaped bronze blade looked black. A dent marked the place she’d shot an arrow into it during her last fight with Orion. The simple, leather-wrapped grip was soft to the touch. Like other Greek swords, a small semicircle studded with rivets served as the cross guard. A practical blade. A weapon for a hunter who preferred a bow or a javelin, but carried the sword as a sign of his nobility. Only the pommel hinted at the sword’s provenance and its bearer’s lineage: a twisting conch shell of yellow gold, a fitting emblem for a sword given to Orion by his father, the sea god Poseidon. She’d hidden it deep, where she could forget it existed, buried behind a photo that reminded her that, even without Orion, she had still been loved. By her mother, by her twin, and now, she knew, by the man who’d given her the photo in the first place.