“She doesn’t know yet. But she will agree to do this.”
I lowered my hands with a flicker of hope. No way was Demi agreeing to this. “You don’t know your daughter very well.”
“Neither do you,” Eros bit back. It wasn’t like him. Normally he treated me warmly, like a son. So his tone took me aback. Whatever he was trying to correct must have been monumental. But why did I have to be a part of it?
“I could just let my show get canceled.” Saying it out loud felt like a punch in the gut, but it was better than letting Demi be part of it. She’d probably sabotage it and it would get canceled anyway.
“You could. But do you really want to tick off my grandfather?”
I cleared my throat. “It’s not on my bucket list.” Although I could appeal to Jupiter. He was fond of me, and he loved any chance to go up against Zeus.
Eros’s expression softened. “Roman, if you do this, I promise you will have more than one match this season, and . . . you will find what you’ve been looking for.”
Why didn’t it surprise me that he knew of the void inside me? “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.” I sounded more like a lost boy than a man. But the possibility of filling the void that was ever present in my life intrigued me. Especially since I shouldn’t have any voids.
I had a successful career. A beautiful daughter. I’d even found love a time or two. Yet I felt as if I were part of a Roman tragedy. The tragedy being that even though I had what anyone would consider a perfect life, I felt lost, as if I’d followed the wrong path somehow. Or more like someone had placed me on the wrong path.
“Then it’s a good thing I do.” With that, he strode out, leaving me dumbfounded.
I fell back in my chair feeling like I’d just been given a quest without knowing the destination.
How did he know what I was missing?
More importantly . . . how was having Demi on my show going to help me find it?
Chapter III
Demi
Atasnail’space,I walked up to the third floor for what my father was calling an emergency therapy session. If he was involving Hestia, goddess of hearth and home and a renowned psychologist in our world, this wasn’t good. (My father wasn’t the only god who’d relocated to California.)
While Hestia was probably my favorite “relative,” I didn’t love her trying to get into my head. And, oh, had she tried to over the years. My father and I had been doing family counseling since I’d arrived, even via the Oracle Link when I was away at school, trying to navigate our complicated relationship.
Anytime a conflict arose, Hestia was called in. She was even with my father the night of the car accident. The night my life changed forever. Every dream I’d ever had died that night. And I found myself being whisked away to a world I’d believed only existed in storybooks and legends.
I’d begged to stay and live with my nana, but gods have better lawyers. Don’t ever mess with a child of Themis—especially Lexa. She’ll wreck anyone in court. And she can freeze time during arguments to gather her thoughts or get moreevidence. Poor Nana. Rest her beloved soul. She had no hope of getting custody of me.
Looking back, it was probably for the best. There was no going back to my old life. Both my legs had been crushed and broken in multiple spots. It was a career-ending injury for a gymnast or almost any athlete. Or at least it should have been. But when Apollo is your doctor, anything is possible. My legs healed perfectly. But my heart didn’t.
Once I learned who I really was, I realized I hadn’t earned my spot on the Olympic team or all those records I’d broken. It wasn’t my dedication and hard work that had made me a top competitor. It was my divine lineage. How could I compete knowing how unfair it was? And how could I ever explain my medical miracle? I shouldn’t even be able to walk normally.
And knowing my mom would never be in the crowd cheering for me again—I couldn’t do it. I didn’t deserve to be known as her legacy.
My mom won the individual all-around gold medal at the Summer Olympics in 1988. And she got the coveted Wheaties box. Our dream one day was to be on one together. Silly, huh?
Once I passed the threshold of Hestia’s floor, a soothing voice whispered,Shoes off, hearts open.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling as I slipped off my chunky black wedges. The air smelled like cinnamon and quiet. I sank into one of the plush armchairs in warm earth tones, and that’s when Hestia’s mirror appeared. It didn’t show your reflection. It showed the last time you were truly content.
I tried to ignore it, but the gold-framed mirror was bossy—and refused to be ignored. “Fine,” I muttered, exhalingas I glanced in it. There I was. Sixteen. Singing loudly to One Direction in my old room with soft-pink walls and a hundred stuffed animals piled on my bed. Wearing a tiny nightshirt, with my red hair in a messy bun, fresh-faced and beaming. So happy. I clenched my fists, refusing to let the sting in my eyes become tears.
I wanted that girl back so badly. But that girl was living a lie.
When the mirror was satisfied that it had done its duty, it disappeared.
To pass the time, I grabbed a copy of theOlympus Timesto catch up on all the latest and greatest gossip in the world of the gods. Everyone said they read it for the recipes and how to decorate their altars and temples, but what we really wanted to know was why JLo had kicked Ben to the curb this time.
Oh please—you had to know she was a demigoddess. No one looks that good in their fifties without some divine help.
