Hephaestus chuckled. “It’s my speciality. Comes from a strand of grapes only found within the volcanos of Lemnos. Makes it a bit spicy.”
“Heph, it’s more than a bit spicy.” But Dion didn’t seem at all put off by it. He took a substantial drink of the chalice Hephaestus had already poured for him.
“You didn’t answer my question about the moon,” Hephaestus said, trailing his fingers along the harp. A discordant sound filled the megaron, echoing ominously against the vaulted ceiling.
I pulled a chair out from the table, schooling my features into an expression of indifference. “You didn’t actually ask a question.” Then I smiled. “How about this? You find me some wine that doesn’t taste like you’ve shoved a torch down my throat, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know, as long as I have the answer.”
He laughed, pointed at me. “You know what? I like you. I’m sorry if I was a little standoffish your first night here, but…well, we didn’t know how much the Titan traits would have been passed down to you.”
I stilled. “The Titan traits?”
Instead of answering, Hephaestus bustled toward the archway that led into the kitchens, and the sound of his cane thunking against stone drifted behind him. I frowned over at Dionysos, but he merely shrugged. A moment later, the wine master returned, waving a dusty bottle in the air.
“Here we are.” He crossed the room, took my chalice, and downed the contents I’d left in it.
“Oh. All right,” I said with a laugh.
With a wink, he tipped the new wine into the glass and handed it back to me. “There you are. Non-volcano wine.”
“Thanks.” I took a timid sip. An elegant sweetness coated my tongue, and I nearly sighed in contentment. Nothing tasted as good as blood, but this came in as a close second.
Hephaestus beamed, then eased into the chair beside mine. “Now for my question. Why is that blood moon stubbornly refusing to leave our skies?”
I pursed my lips. He’d come frighteningly close to asking a question I actuallydidknow the answer to, and despite his drunkenness, there was a striking clarity in his eyes. I wasn’t entirely certain I’d be able to convince him with a lie. Thankfully, he’d gone in a different direction.
“I honestly have no idea,” I told him with an apologetic smile.
“Hmph.” He folded his arms. “But you’ve seen one before?”
“Yes, the blood moon appears in Troy on occasion. It’s never been constant like this, though. Have you not?”
Dion shifted behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. Instinctively, I stiffened. I wasn’t used to people randomly touching me. And for a moment, I wondered if Dionysos was trying to warn me not to speak about the blood moon. How much, exactly, had my mother confided in him?
But then he leaned down, and his voice was barely a whisper. “Ares is about to walk through that door. I heard him coming.”
Fuck.
My hand tightened on my chalice. Before I could think it through, I downed the wine, not that it would do me much good. I’d barely get a buzz off of this kind. I needed the spicy stuff. I needed to burn.
Dion noted my reaction. “I can block him at the door and tell him to go away.”
“No.” I situated myself in the chair, draping my green velvet skirt just so and crossing my ankles. Loosened the tension in my shoulders. Poured myself another glass and swirled the wine in an almost absentminded manner.
Ares was coming. Steadying my breath, I put my carefully constructed mask back into place just as he strolled through the door.
He caught sight of me the second he stepped inside the room. As he slowed to a stop, his gaze shifted andlatchedon where Dionysos held my shoulder. Those golden specks flared bright in his eyes, and that barely contained anger I often sensed in him seemed tohumthrough the room.
“Get your hands off her,” he snarled.
Dionysos released my shoulder and held up his hands, slowly backing away from me. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
He looked from Dionysos to Hephaestus to the chalice of wine in my hand. Much to my surprise, I’d managed to keep a lock on my emotions, despite this bizarre display from Ares. I still swirled the wine, ankles crossed and shoulders loose. If I had to guess, I appeared to be the calmest one in the room.
Ares ignored Dion’s words and strode right up to him. He was several inches taller, and his broad, muscular form seemed to dwarf Dion’s more slender body. “It doesn’t matter how angry you are about what happened to Hera. Selene is off-limits. If one of us takes matters into our—”
“Does she look like she’s in danger?” Hephaestus cut in, shuffling over with another chalice in his hand. A boar’s head was embossed on this one, and he’d filled it to the brim. Crimson liquid sloshed over the edges. “We’re having a drink and nothing more. Looks like you could use one, too.”
“A drink?” Ares repeated with a frown.
