“Polyandry,” I corrected. “Polygamy is one man with multiple women. Polyandry is, well, the opposite.”
Raiden glanced at me, but his stare slid back to the wall of storage compartments in front of us. “I can wait,” he said. “For you to decide, I mean. For this new, integrated you to figure out what you want.”
I stared up at the ceiling, my eyes stinging with tears.
This. This right here was why I’d been doing everything I could to avoid this conversation. Because so long as we didn’t actually talk about us, whatever we had shared—or almost shared—wouldn’t be over.
“What if I love you both the same?” I asked, my voice thick with emotion. I wiped under my eyes before the tears could fall. “What if I can't decide?”
Raiden laughed, the sound hollow and devoid of humor, and shook his head. “You can't have both of us, Cora. It doesn't work that way.”
“But it could,” I ventured, my voice small.
“I don't work that way,” Raiden countered.
I opened my mouth but struggled with how to respond. “Well, I do,” I finally told him. There it was. The truth laid at his feet. “There's no such thing as monogamy in Olympian culture.”
Raiden’s head snapped around and he looked at me, clearly taken aback. “Seriously?” His eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “That must've been fun.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “And here I’d thought I was the experienced one in this relationship, but nine hundred years of non-monogamy, well . . .”
I stared down at my hands, picking at my nails. “Amazons weren't allowed romantic relationships,” I told him. “Demeter didn't want anything distracting us . . . getting in the way of our mission. So, don’t worry—you still win in the experience department.”
Raiden sat up straighter. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never—” He cleared his throat. “That you and Hades never . . .”
My neck and cheeks were suddenly on fire. “I'm saying I've never dot-dot-dotted with anyone,” I admitted.
Raiden blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. “Wow.”
“Yep,” I said, exhaling heavily. “But I do think you're right that I need to take some time to just be me . . . on my own.” I was quiet for a moment. “I don't really know how to be around either you or Hades right now, so I just end up running away from both of you.” I flashed Raiden a weak smile. “I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. Clearly, I'm about as emotionally developed as a twelve-year-old.”
Raiden chuckled, and the sound sent relief rushing through me. We hadn’t actually figured anything out, but at least the air was cleared. Or moderately less cloudy. He slung his arm over my shoulders and pulled me against his side, and I rested my head on his shoulder. It felt good to be so close to him. It felt right.
“I missed you,” I said softly.
Raiden pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Missed you, too.”
7
I stood at the top of the loading ramp in the aft of the Argo and worried my bottom lip as I watched Raiden, Emi, and my mom exit the ship to the sunlit lawn, slinking into a patch of leafy trees nearby. The Argo was roughly the size of a school bus, only far more aerodynamic, with sleek, stubby wings that jutted out from the sides, and it didn’t look like anything that had ever been made by man. It practically screamed alien spaceship; the only thing that would have stood out even more as being not of this world was a flying saucer.
The Argo was currently parked in a large copse of trees on the lawn of the Parc de l’Ariana, the manicured park in front of the United Nations Office in Geneva. The ship was cloaked to virtual invisibility, hiding it from the morning foot traffic, which meant we could hunker down within the safety of the ship while we waited for the others to meet with the UN Security Council.
All it had taken was an anonymous email to Henry with a set of coordinates pointing to the location of the incoming Tsakali forces and a phone number. Within fifteen minutes of sending the message, my mom was talking to him on the phone. Another fifteen minutes, and he was off to arrange a meeting for us with the UN Security Council for the following morning. And now we were here.
My mom had been right, and I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised by the outcome. As the Primicerius of the Custodes Veritatis, Henry had a better idea than most humans of what was really out there. Of what might be coming. Of not only the physical threat to mankind but the threat to something far more fragile—civilization. The primary purpose of the Custodes Veritatis, warped as it had become over the years from its original purpose, was to protect humanity from the truth—that humans are not alone in the universe. That they are not special, or chosen, or blessed. That they are merely life-forms, evolved to reach a higher level of thinking. If the truth were ever to get out, humans might not need the Tsakali to destroy them. They might just do it themselves.
The loading ramp started to rise, and I backed up, watching the trio’s retreating backs until the ramp cut off my view. I was desperate to be with them, to protect them as they headed into the belly of the beast, but Raiden and my mom had convinced me it was too dangerous. Henry would do almost anything to get his hands on me, and it was the less risky gamble to send my loved ones in there without me, assuming UN security could protect them, than to walk in there myself.
I turned to make my way back up to the front of the ship. The interior of the Argo displayed the usual Olympian utilitarian design and sleek aesthetics, with bench seating along either side and storage compartments underfoot. Two pilot-style chairs occupied the front cockpit area, surrounded by a complex control panel with buttons, switches, and holoscreens galore—everything one might need to take this ship from sea to land to air. Everything was shiny steel reinforced with golden orichalcum.
I passed Meg, perched on a cushy bench seat along the side of the ship, studying a floor plan on the screen of Fiona’s tablet. She glanced up at me as I passed, flashing me a quick smile. Fiona sat on the floor near her feet, her legs sprawled in front of her and her laptop on her thighs, her fingers clicking away on the keys. Both were researching the nearby CERN facility where the chaos stone had been created and was being stored, Meg focusing on the layout of the Atlantea Project facility and Fiona on the facility’s security measures.
Diplomacy was plan A. Should things go south in the meeting with the UN Security Council, grand larceny was plan B.
I reclaimed the vacant seat beside Hades and craned my neck to watch my mom, Emi, and Raiden through the windshield. They crossed the vast expanse of lush green grass toward the sprawling, pale stone UN building, carrying pieces of my heart with them. I watched them until they disappeared into the building, and then I settled in to wait.
“If anything happens to them in there . . .” I blew out a breath and leaned my head back against the headrest. “You know, sometimes I think Demeter was onto something, with her anti-love relationship ban. Maybe she was right and love really is a weakness. I never understood it until now, but maybe she was protecting us from the pain of grief.”
Hades scoffed. “She wasn’t protecting you,” he said bitterly. “She was controlling you.”
I glanced at him sidelong, surprised by the vitriol in his voice.
“My sister was a narcissist who required absolute devotion,” he said, staring out through the windshield. “She couldn’t handle sharing her followers. Her fragile ego couldn’t handle even one of you straying from her absolute authority. She brainwashed you all into thinking love was a weakness, but she was wrong.”
I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by Hades’ words.
He turned his face to me, his ice-blue stare entrancing me. “I see you now, surrounded by those you love, and you burn with purpose—far more than anything Demeter could have instilled within you. You would protect these people at any cost. That is not a weakness. That is a strength.”
I flushed at the praise and looked down at my hands.
Hades reached across the space separating our seats and gently touched my chin, raising
my face so I was once more looking at him. His touch sent a thrill through me, and I closed my eyes, savoring this moment. “Demeter is gone,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t let her control you still. You are far stronger—and better—than she ever was.”
I swallowed roughly and opened my eyes, my stare locking with his. “She made me what I am,” I said, my voice weak.
“No,” Hades said, laughing under his breath and shaking his head. He pulled his hand back. “No, she didn’t. She merely gave you the tools you needed to make yourself into the strongest of the Amazons. You did that, not her.”
Mulling over Hades’ words, I returned to staring out the windshield. Hades fell silent beside me, seeming to sense that I needed some time to process what he had said.
The sun climbed higher in the sky as we sat there, and noon came and went. The only sound within the ship was the hushed voices of Meg and Fiona as the two shared information and discussed heist strategy. The tension within me ramped up with each passing hour that the others remained out of sight within the UN building.
“Cora?” my mom said over the ship's communication system.
Her voice jarred me out of a trance, and I started in my seat. I almost thought I had imagined it until she spoke again.
“Are you there?” she asked.
Hades leaned forward, tapping the button that would turn on two-way communication.
I flashed him a quick smile, relief flooding me. “Yeah, Mom, I’m here,” I said, sitting up straighter. I glanced down at the watch she’d lent me on my wrist. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon. They had been in there for almost five hours. “How's it going in there?”
My mom was quiet for a long moment. “It’s going . . .” She sighed.
I exchanged a wary look with Hades. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“They're willing to listen,” she said, exasperation edging into her tone. “Henry has twisted this whole thing around in an attempt to get what he wants.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Which is what, exactly?”
Again, my mom fell silent for long seconds. Finally, she answered. “You, Cora. He wants you.”
I pressed my lips together, breathing deeply through my nose. I refused to look at Hades, though I could feel his searching stare searing into the side of my face.
“He's poisoned the Security Council against me,” my mom said, “convincing them I'm a duplicitous mercenary, as likely trying to steal the chaos stone for personal gain as delivering an honest warning.” With my mom’s track record, it was a hard claim to dispute.
“Bastard,” I practically growled.
“Did they check the coordinates we sent?” Hades asked, cutting in with a level-headed question while I silently fumed.
“Yes,” my mom said. “And they can see that something is headed our way, but the satellites they have access to aren’t strong enough to determine what it is or to allow them to predict how close it will come to Earth—let alone when. Their closest projections estimate the 'space object' won't arrive for another ten thousand years, at least.”
“They're not accounting for the FTL jumps,” Hades countered, a sharp edge to his words.
“Obviously,” my mom agreed. “And I told them that the Tsakali don't travel at a consistent speed, but . . .” Again, she sighed. “They want proof.”
I looked at Hades, my eyes locking with his as fear pooled in my belly. I knew where this was going, but I had to ask, anyway. “Proof of what, exactly?”
“That you exist. That this isn’t some big conspiracy theory hoax,” my mom said. “They want an Olympian—in here—confirming what I'm telling them. And they want access to Olympian satellites, so they can better assess the situation.”
I was already shaking my head before my mom finished speaking. The fear in my gut was clawing up my chest, reaching for my heart. If either Hades or I went in there, there was no guarantee we would make it back out. I couldn’t lose Hades, not when I’d only just found him again.
“I'll go,” Hades said, the words ringing with finality.
“No,” I snapped. “No way.”
“It has to be me,” Hades said, his eyes traveling over the lines of my face like he was memorizing them. “You look too much like them. They won’t believe you aren’t of this world.”
I gripped the armrests of my chair with claw-like fingers, my fear for him warping into a far more manageable emotion: anger. “And whose fault is that?”
“We designed you, all of you, to blend in, you know that,” he said, speaking of the engineered Olympian like me, those created on board the Tartarus during the long trip to Earth. “In nine out of ten scenarios, that's an advantage,” he added.
“But not in this scenario,” I quietly seethed. I knew he was right—about all of it—and I hated it.
“No,” Hades agreed, the calm to my storm. “Not in this scenario.” His stare was steady, his voice even. “If you go in there, they'll want to run tests. They'll want further proof that you're different.”
A cruel smile twisted my lips, and I tapped the stone of my activated regulator with the nail of my index finger. “That should be easy enough.”
Hades raised an eyebrow, and his smug expression suggested I had just made his point for him. “Yes, you’ll show them just how different you are, and in doing so, you'll frighten them so much that they'll lock you away. You will be the only danger they can see, the one in the same room as them, not the one galaxies away. They will not understand you, so they will destroy you.”
I slumped in my seat as his words hit home.
“You forget that I have spent millennia studying these creatures,” he reminded me, his expression grim, “and their greatest weakness is fearing that which they do not understand.”
I clenched my jaw but held my tongue, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you go,” I said. “Dazzle them with your otherness.”
Hades bowed his head, grateful I had come around.
I sat up straighter, my stare hardening to a challenge as an idea formed in my mind. “But I'm coming with you,” I said and grinned. “They can’t hurt what they can’t see.”
8
Hades and I stood side by side at the back of the Argo, waiting as the loading ramp lowered to the ground. Hades controlled the ramp from the holoband wrapped around his forearm, connecting him to the ship’s controls. Fiona and Meg watched us from further in the ship, their faces twin masks of worry. Meg’s concern leaked in through our bond, and I had to concentrate to shove the invading emotion aside.
Hades had given Fiona a crash course in manning the ship, so they would be able to flee should the worst happen, and we were captured or killed. Their worry wasn’t for themselves. It was all for us.
Beside me, Hades fidgeted with the cuff of his sleeve. His shimmering, fine-woven white tunic and trousers looked as alien as the rest of him—almost like he belonged, but not quite. “I still think it's unnecessary for you to come—”
I silenced him with a look.
Hades was a fool if he thought I would let him walk into a hornet's nest all on his own. It wasn't that he was incapable of taking care of himself. He was a prince of Olympus, raised during a time of war. His body had been trained as well as his mind. If push came to shove, he could handle himself in a fight as well as Raiden or pretty much any other human soldier out there. Better, probably, considering the amount of time he had had to train his body and hone his skills. But Hades had a romantic idea of humanity. Humans were like children in his mind—mischievous, perhaps, but relatively harmless. I wasn’t going with him purely out of fear of an external threat; I was going with him to save him from himself.
“You will remain concealed,” he said, the command bred into him through his royal blood lacing his words.
I eyed him sidelong. “That's the deal.”
To prove just how compliant I could be, I raised one hand, tracing the outline of the stone in my regulator to deactivate the device and unleash my psychic g
ifts. With a focused thought, I activated my hoplon suit’s stealth mode, sending a surge of psychic energy into the suit to bend the light around me, making me as invisible as the ship in which we stood. It took a steady stream of psychic energy to maintain the illusion—energy I didn’t necessarily have to spare, considering the heist that might be happening in a little bit—but I wasn’t willing to risk sending Hades in there alone. He was too important, not only to me but to our people and to this world, even if humanity didn’t know it or was too stubborn to see it.
“Happy?” I asked pointedly.
Hades studied the place where I had been—still was, just not to his or anyone else’s eyes.
“That is so cool,” Fiona said, her voice hushed.
“You take the lead,” I told Hades. “I’m right behind you.”
Huffing out a breath, his final show of dissatisfaction, Hades started down the loading ramp. I followed.
A half-dozen armed guards awaited Hades on the landing in front of the palatial UN building, and as we ascended the broad, carved stone steps, they fanned out to receive and surround him. I hung back, remaining outside their circle, so as not to accidentally bump into any of them and give away my presence.
The guards escorted Hades into the building through a glass door, three preceding him and three following. I snuck in before the final guard could shut the door.
The entry hall was typical of a fancy government-type building, with high coffered ceilings and an excess of stonework. Pale, polished marble tiled the floor, bordered by white-veined-black marble around the edges. The walls were trimmed with red marble and more of the same black stone. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed a view of the Parc de l’Ariana, and I would have been able to see the Argo parked amongst the trees down the gently sloping lawn, had the ship not been cloaked. It was a comfort to know the ship truly was invisible to the naked eye.
The guards led Hades into a hallway that branched around to the side of the building, then through a pair of tall wooden doors from a quartet set in the wall on our left. This time, I slipped in ahead of the guards and Hades, stepping off to the side to move out of their path.
Dreams of the Damned (Atlantis Legacy Book 3) Page 5