“I am not so certain he can learn lessons,” said Circe. “But he is apologetic.”
“I can learn lessons,” Hermes argued. “I learned how to dig a million holes with my hands, I chopped down a tree, I made garland! Those are lessons!”
“Those are skills, Hermes,” said Hecate.
“It’s called a synonym, Hecate!”
“Only if you squint, Hermes.”
“I am squinting!”
The goddess pressed her lips together to keep from smirking. “Lucky for you, I overheard your monologue or I would probably leave you here for another week.”
“First, it’s rude to eavesdrop. Second, please take me home with you. I miss my friends, and I don’t want to miss the arrival of the twins. Plus, I need a manicure.”
He lifted his hands, wiggling them at Hecate.
“Perhaps I can help,” said Circe, summoning her wand and waving it at Hermes’s hands. They were instantly clean, perfectly filed, and polished.
Hermes made a sound in the back of his throat, mouth agape. “I thought you lost that!”
Circe shrugged. “I lied.”
“You saucy wench,” Hermes replied. “Were the Kallikantzaroi even here?”
“No. The cats got a little feisty,” she said. “It ended up being the perfect ploy for what Hecate needed.”
Hermes looked from one goddess to the other. “I think I’ve been outdone. I will have to relinquish my title as God of Mischief.”
“I am certain you will find a way to live up to your name, Hermes,” said Circe. “I give it about an hour.”
Before Hermes could offer an indignant response, Hecate spoke.
“Bring the jaws, Hermes,” she said and vanished.
“I’m still mortal!” he said, surging to his feet, feeling a hard kick to his ass. Before he could hit the floor, his wings unfurled and he found himself hovering a few inches above the ground.
A laugh bubbled in his throat, and he soared upright, pumping his fist in the air.
“Yes! I’m back, baby!” he cried. “Keep ’em in, Sephy, cause I’m coming!”
Chapter 11
Dionysus
When Dionysus arrived home, he checked on Acamus. The toddler was sleeping sideways in his bed, uncovered, hands curled close to his chest. Dionysus kissed his hair and tucked him in before heading down the hallway to his room. He expected Ariadne to be asleep, but when he opened the door, he found her sitting up in bed.
“I thought you were just taking a call,” she said.
He closed the door with a quiet click.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“We waited for you. I tried to call you. We were all worried.”
Guilt tore at his chest. He felt worse than ever.
“I’m—”
