Heart of Fire

by Meredith Wild

  While Reg means no blatant disrespect, the verb still needles me that way. She might as well know, straight out of this metaphorical gate, that I’m a lot more than dotty for Kara Valari.

  “Fine. Semantics,” she snips before taking another long drag on her magic tea. “Carnal knowledge was had by all important parties. Why don’t we establish that as a hard fact and move on to the part where you caused a god-summoning storm?”

  For a moment, I’m caught between two extremes. The urge to laugh but also to cry. They tie back to the same revelation. Being seen for who I really am but still being treated like the next normal Joe on the street. It’s like I’m a kid again and the woman’s about to assign me latrine duty for toppling a bookcase while playing hide-and-seek in the store with Jesse.

  How I wish those simpler rules applied now. But this mess can’t be washed away with a few scrubbed toilets and some reshelved books.

  Regina’s demeanor already tells me so. Her posture’s stiff. Her gaze is fierce with wordless entreaty. She doesn’t want to be right about her allegation. She wants me to say I have no idea what she’s talking about and that the storm was only some freaky barometric event. But I can’t. We’re past the point of covering the truth in the name of safety. I have to move forward now, and she has to help me.

  During the pause I take for determining how to best express that, the bell at the front door jingles. Before turning to look, I know who it is. Mom’s presence already calms a lot of my soul, despite my brain warning me otherwise. But only now do I recognize how that protest has dimmed. Thanks to Po, I’ve finally been able to penetrate deeper levels here. Like Dante on his own journey, I understand more. I can forgive more.

  “Hey there, buddy.” Her slip with my childhood nickname betrays her exhaustion faster than her weary tone. After we hug, I get a glimpse of her sleepy but anxious gaze before she drops into the wingback chair next to the cup of chamomile Reg has set out.

  “Sorry I had to wake you,” I offer while she sips the fragrant brew.

  “It’s all right.” My comment seems to have peeved her, and it probably has. Not because I woke her after a twelve-hour shift and approximately three hours of sleep but because I apologized for it. “It’s always all right. You know that.” She casts a furtive glance between Reg and me. “What’s going on?”

  Reg whooshes a rough breath. It sounds like a laugh that she’s thought better of.

  Mom frowns. “What’s happened, for God’s sake?”

  “Now that one’s funny,” Reg says.

  Mom clearly has no idea that I’m now in on the subtext. “Does this have to do with that young woman you’ve been seeing? The one you’ve been followed everywhere with? What has she done, honey?” She sets down her tea, concern stamped on her features.

  “Mom.”

  “You can tell me. I can be discreet.”

  “Mom.”

  “If she’s hurt you, I swear to God, the little brat should be taught what a treasure she has.”

  “Her name is Kara,” I growl. “And I care about her. Deeply.”

  “Shit.” Regina slides her head back into her palm. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Afraid of what?” The edges of Mom’s mouth tilt up. “That he likes a girl? Good Lord, loosen up, Reg. This is a good thing.” She surges to her feet. She’s dressed in her work shoes and sweats, and her steps make cute, rubbery squashes along the wood floor. When she reaches me, she hauls me into a hug. “No. This is a wonderful thing.”

  As Mom peeks around my bicep, Regina lifts only her eyes over the ledge of her fingers. “Wonderful. Sure.” When she lowers her whole hand, her whole face is grim. “Except that he’s already slept with her.”

  “Umm. All right.” Mom attempts a deprecating laugh. “You’re a grown-up. That’s your choice.”

  Reg is fast with her interruptive trigger finger. “There’s more to it.” She shoots a meaningful glance my way. I nod in return.

  “All right.” Mom’s less certain about her approval encore. While that’s probably a good thing, my gut doesn’t agree. How can this be the moment I’ve waited so long to get to but the scenario in which I never imagined it occurring? The fully crappy circumstances.

  “Listen to me, Nancy. He’s. Already. Slept. With. Her.”

  “Yes, Reg. You’ve already established that part,” Mom says with an awkward laugh.

  “And she’s a Valari.”

  “Right, I’ve heard of the name. But if he loves her, why would that matter? She’s famous. So what?”

  Reg clears her throat. “They’re the same Valaris I did some temp work for, back when we were first here in LA. Remember?”

  Mom tenses a little, but it’s obviously more from curiosity. “Okay, where exactly are you going with all this?”

  Reg pulls herself up higher. Rubs her hands along the tops of her thighs. “I worked for them specifically because I was instructed to keep an eye on them for a while.”

  “What?” Mom is genuinely baffled. She really doesn’t know this part.

  Another glance Reg’s way helps me confirm that. She was probably on the path toward telling me that, when Mom arrived in record time.

  “Keep an eye on them…why?” Mom asks.

  “Because they’re demons.”

  Mom sags against me. “They’re what?”

  Though I support her weight with physical ease, her anguished stare rips apart my heart. “I didn’t know either,” I confess. “Until it was too late.”

  “Too…late?” She stammers it like the words are scrambled. Or perhaps as if she doesn’t want to comprehend them.

  “After he bedded the woman.” Reg takes a deliberate beat, then another, before she drops the bigger bomb. “And brought down a royal-class rainstorm last Saturday night.”

  “A royal—” As fast as Mom clenches her fingers into my arms, she shoves away. A manic sound spills from her quirking lips. I think she’s trying to laugh again but miserably failing. “You know how ridiculous that sounds, right? All of it. Both of you,” she adds when observing the somber calm I match to Regina’s.

  “I didn’t believe it at first either, Mom.” I brace my stance, sensing I’m going to need the new fortification. “Not until Zeus showed up and forced me to see the full reality.”

  My mother turns a terrifying shade of white. “No. No, that can’t be. It…it just can’t…”

  Then she buckles at the knees.

  “Shit!”

  I’m close enough to break her fall. Regina is blessedly—or scarily—silent as I gather Mom up and lower her back into the wingback. “It’s all right, Mom.” I thunk to my knees beside her while Reg finally mutters something about fetching a glass of water.

  “Maximus.” Mom reaches out to touch my cheek with tender fingertips.

  My relief at the contact is cut short by her anguished sob. But her real tears never come.

  Finally she grates, “So you know.”

  I rise up, pushing some matted hair off her forehead. “Yeah. I do.”

  She’s still pale and seems so frail. I’m struck by just how much this woman has done for me, for so long. She’s given up her whole life. Her entire existence. Did she give up her identity too? Who is she, really? Does she—do we—have mortal family members somewhere who are wondering where she is and what she’s doing? What life did she leave behind for all this? For me?

  It slays my soul that I can’t ask any of that right now. There’s no time. Not if I want to get to the questions that matter most.

  “How much?” Mom rasps, grabbing my forearm with open desperation. “How much do you know? What did he tell you, Maximus?”

  My chest burns, drenched in its own acid spill. “I’m not sure.” I let her see the remorse in my stare. “I don’t know how much there is.”

  “But he came to you. Oh my God.” She clamps her free hand across her eyes. “He found you. Damn it. I’ve been so careful!”

  The new tears in her voice compel me to lean closer.
“This was inevitable. He told me he’s been searching for me. For a long time.” I accept the damp cloth Regina brings and press it to my mother’s forehead. “And the storm just sped things up a little.” I shrug and manage half a smile. “Or maybe a lot. But Mom…I’m glad it did and that I finally know. You made some tough calls, all in the name of keeping me safe. Both of you did.”

  I circle my gaze out, including Regina as much as Mom. But while Reg answers with a respectful nod, Mom yanks the cloth away and sits up.

  “Tough calls,” she reiterates, doubling down on her agitation. “Is that what Zeus told you too?” She swings her glare, full of bitterness, up at Reg. “Or was that the part you filled in?”

  “I walked in less than fifteen minutes ago,” I interject. “And since then, Reg has been making tea. What are you getting at?”

  “There was nothing ‘tough’ about my decisions. Desperate? Yes. Terrifying? Oh hell, yes.”

  From the waist up, fury and mortification make me stiff as a statue. “Z told me we were living in a nice place. That he was keeping us comfortable and safe.”

  “Of course he was,” she says. “It was all those things and more—but it was also surrounded by very high walls and very set perimeters.” The faintest wisp of a smile breaks through before she reaches to me, rubbing my cheek with soft, adoring strokes. “But have you ever tried telling an eight-year-old boy that he can’t go somewhere?”

  Heat collects behind my eyes. I dismiss it, and the string of profanity it coaxes in my mind, with gritted teeth. “Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m beginning to get it.”

  “One day, you finally outsmarted us all. You were only outside the estate for a few minutes…but that was long enough for several of Hera’s maids to see.”

  I grind my teeth harder. “Hera,” I echo. Of course. Fuck.

  “I knew it that very moment,” Mom whispers. She retracts her hand, guiding my gaze to the unmistakable sheen in her eyes. “The life that had been my semi-bearable quarantine would lead to your death by her hand.”

  “So we got out of there.” Regina fills it in before I can. “As fast as we possibly could.”

  I drag in a long breath, looking to both of them with the same somber purpose. “And now, I’m damn glad you did.”

  I hope that lends Mom some validation, yet she’s just as jittery as before. “But how did Zeus ever find out? How did he know where to follow you? Where to come? We were so careful when we left. So thorough about making it look like—”

  “We’d been killed already?”

  Reg chuffs. “You were never a daft boy.”

  Instead of taking the bait to banter with her, I reach for Mom’s hand again. “He found out how and why you left at the same time I did. Yesterday, at Labyrinth—when I met Po for the first time.”

  “Po?” She turns whiter than before as comprehension clearly strikes. “Poseidon?” Her fingers are icy and shivery against mine. “You met him too?” Before I’m done nodding, she blurts, “Was anyone else there?”

  No sense lingering over a bandage that has to be ripped off. As my mother succumbs to heavy tears that might as well be that spilled blood, I force myself to push on. “He’s the king of the underworld, Mom. And Kara is one of his subjects. At least partially. And we pissed him off.”

  “Royally,” Regina puts in.

  “Just…stop for a second. Both of you. Please.” Mom pushes me away and lurches back up, framing her forehead with her hands. “I have to think. I have to think.”

  She starts circling the coffee table like an electron around a neutron, propelled by an unseen but real—and powerful—force. Her apprehension is intense. Trouble is, I’m no better. I came here and then called her because I’m in equally crappy shape. With more questions than answers.

  “Maybe we can all think together.” It’s my awkward form of assurance, for myself as well as her. A dialogue means I can work in some questions.

  But not yet.

  Mom’s think-tank mode has an unmistakable look. I’ve seen it too many times to be mistaken. Though she doubles her pace, she scans her intended path like it’s full of landmines. “This isn’t good. Not at all.” She takes several more laps before halting and pivoting toward Regina. “Have you maintained any of your connections to Olympus since we left?”

  “Do centaurs cheat at poker?” Reg scoffs.

  “Good.” The smallest hint of relief crosses Mom’s tired features. “We may need to call on them. Now that Hades is involved… Well, we have no idea what or who he’ll be after.”

  “Actually…I might.” I pause my interjection, waiting for them to snap stunned looks my way before going on. “I know exactly what he dragged into his skull last night, at least.”

  The admission spilled out a hell of a lot easier than I’d expected, but maybe that’s because I filtered some things from last night’s memories. Those factors flood in now. The stunned bewilderment. The loathing surrender. Finally, the impotent rage.

  Mom’s the first one to sense it all. That’s obvious as soon as she sits back down and seizes my hand again. Her gaze darkens. Her nostrils pump in and out, betraying the force of her rampant emotions.

  “Tell me what he said,” she demands past trembling lips.

  Air leaves me in a heavy rush, but it doesn’t stop my chest from turning into a furious kiln. “It was more what he did than what he said.”

  A pair of tears escapes her restraint, one rolling down each cheek. Mom jabs a hand up and furiously palms them away. “Say whatever feels right, however you need to,” she rasps. “We’re going to figure this out together.” She reaches up, and the familiar cherry-almond of her hand lotion mixes with the salt of her sorrow as she rubs my cheek. “I know you don’t have a single reason to believe me anymore—”

  I pull at her hand to wrap it in both of my own. “I believe you, Mom. I really do.” A rough swallow thuds down my throat. “I’m beginning to understand. A lot more than you think.”

  She looks ready to lose control of more tears. A stuttering sob replaces them. “You do?”

  “You fell in love. You weren’t planning on it. You sure as hell weren’t planning on the complications that came with it—not that they would’ve stopped you.” A gruff laugh leaves me. “Gee, Mom,” I add, extending my wry smile. “I don’t know a damn thing about that.”

  Now her tears come, but they all melt my heart because she’s smiling through them. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I hate to be the one breaking up the family mush hour,” Regina grouses. “But right now, what’s most important is that you tell us everything about this triumvirate summit from last night.” She leans forward, locking elbows on her knees. “We need all of it, Max. Any and every detail you can remember. You understand?”

  “Yeah.” I nod swiftly. “I get it. I do.” Know your enemy has never seemed so damn relevant or accurate. But never has enemy been such a vivid reality for me.

  “Good,” Reg says. “And what would be even better is if you agreed to stay away from Kara too.”

  She extends the courtesy of at least turning and looking me in the eye while driving that dagger into my heart. Of course it doesn’t matter.

  “Not happening.” I set my jaw to the point that it aches.

  “Calm down. I don’t mean for forever, okay? Just for now. Only until we can figure—”

  “Not. Happening.” With the first word, I fling the symbolic blade back at her. With the second, I make sure it sticks. “Not now. Not ever. If Hades wants to come find me again, he’ll have to crawl off his turf and onto mine. We’ll meet in my light, not his dark.” I chuff out another bitter laugh. “Remarkably, Veronica Valari may just know what she’s doing about this one. Hiding in plain sight. It’s kept him from overtly messing with Kara so far, so we’ll stay that course for now.”

  Reg mutters a curse beneath her breath. “Except that you do know Hades’s definition of playing, yes?”

  “I’m acquai
nted with the experience, Reg.”

  “Then I’d better get started on rounding up some adequate security.”

  I shake my head. “Wait. Reg. Hold up. Security? Are you serious?”

  “As the blood oath I first made on the highest step of the palace in Olympus.”

  She stands, straightening her shoulders in a way that promises her next words will be final—or at least too difficult to argue with.

  “Protecting you is what I’ve dedicated half my life to. If you think I’m stopping now, you’re a fool, Maximus Kane.”

  I give her the courtesy of a nod, but I’m still unsure whether I’ve just gotten my best or worst news of the day. Patience will bear out that answer, along with the growing pile of my other unanswered questions, but the stuff is getting harder to come by every hour. I only hope I have enough to get me through the Gold Circle event tonight. With Kara on my arm, it’ll definitely be easier.

  With Kara in my world, everything is easier. Brighter. Better.

  Always, always better.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kara

  Another day, another dress. Another mansion filled with servers passing out Moët in delicate champagne flutes. This time, it’s Saturday night—at least the last time I checked—and I’m in a summery peach chiffon thing, given glam touches with über-bling jewelry and rhinestone-encrusted heels. The multimillion-dollar digs are impressive, even by Mom’s standards. I can easily imagine the modern, airy rooms and sprawling pool deck being graced by a crowd of Hollywood’s elite.

  Except right now, the guests milling around on the cream and gray furniture aren’t celebrities or aspiring VIPs. Apart from my mother and a handful of other notable donors, the guests are made up of distinguished Alameda staff. Some are familiar faces, like President McCarthy and Maximus’s best friend, Professor North, who are chatting animatedly on the other side of the room. But many others are new, and despite the fact that we’re mingling in a posh estate in one of LA’s most prestigious zip codes, Maximus is the one who’s working the room.

  And, in the doing, giving me at least a dozen more reasons to revere him.