There’s no time, though. I have to jog to meet Athena before she approaches the last family—Apollo and Orpheus’s parents. She waits for me just outside the doorway, a trim Black woman with warm medium-brown skin and a fade cut. She’s carrying—she always is—but because this is a diplomatic mission, she’s wearing one of her perfectly tailored suits, a deep plum today.
Athena gives me a cool look. “We don’t have time to waste.”
“I know.” I don’t bother to apologize. I won’t really mean it, and Athena hates people wasting their breath and her time. “I’m ready.”
“I dislike this.” She leads the way through the lobby, bypassing a frazzled-looking receptionist and using her override code for the elevator. A number of legacy families have discovered the unfortunate reality that Hermes isn’t the only title in Olympus who can get through a locked door. Thanks to Bellerophon’s skill withtechnology and Athena’s override codes, we’ve walked into every legacy family’s home like this.
Except this time we get a different kind of welcome. We enter a parlor with shining marble underfoot and soothing cool blue walls…and a stack of suitcases in the doorway.
Athena glances at me, brows raised. “Interesting.”
“Oh good, you’re here.” Calliope, Apollo’s mother, sweeps into the room. She’s a tall Korean woman with long black hair, pale skin, and luminous dark eyes. Once upon a time, she walked the runway, and the intervening years haven’t seemed to touch her.
Athena clears her throat. “Circe has reached the city and plans to target all the legacy families. You can claim sanctuary in the lower city, with the condition that you follow their laws. Hades won’t tolerate any abuses on his people.”
“Yes, yes, my boy already talked to me about all that.” She motions to the suitcases. “We’re ready.”
Athena doesn’t bother to ask which boy; rumor has it Orpheus is the favored son, especially now that he’s painting again. The fact that he’s doing it in the lower city while living with Hades’s second-in-command and Eurydice Dimitriou only adds to his mystique in the upper city—and the prices of his work. All of which Calliope seems comfortable using to solidify her own reputation.
Maybe that’s unfair. It probably is. But after being harassed, cursed out, and sent away from the other legacy families, I’m not in the mood to be fair. “Where is Oeagrus?”
“Here.” A tall white man with dark hair and weathered good looks steps into the room. He presses a quick kiss to his wife’s head. “We’re ready and more than willing to make our own way there ifyou have further work to be done here.”
Athena is too experienced to show how nonplussed she is, but it’s there in her tone for those who have spent years studying her like I have. “We’re heading to the lower city now. You’re more than welcome to accompany us.”
“An escort from Athena herself.” Calliope practically purrs. “You’re too kind.”
Always plotting. Always angling for more, more,more. I have to work to keep my derision off my face. I have nearly as much practice as Athena does. I don’t want these people to die, but I detest every single thing they stand for. How this woman and her complacent husband spawned the thoughtful and kind Apollo and the fuckboy-turned-good-man Orpheus, I’ll never know.
Thankfully, I’m driving Athena around, so I’m not expected to make conversation with them as we head toward Cypress Bridge. I listen with half an ear, but there’s nothing interesting going on back there. Calliope is trying to angle for an arranged marriage of Apollo and Athena, as if our entire city isn’t coming down around our ears.
Apparently she’s not the biggest fan of his current girlfriend, Cassandra Gataki.
Hades’s people wait just on our side of the bridge. Thanatos leans against one of the pillars, his hands in his pockets. He’s got medium-brown skin, thick dark hair, and some of the most sensual lips of anyone I’ve ever seen. He smiles when I roll down the window. “Finally coming to your senses, Atalanta?”
“Just doing my job.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “I have Athena and the last of the legacy families—at least the ones willing to listen to reason—the Makoses.”
“Good.” He actually sounds like he means it, which just goes to show he’s never interacted with either of them. “Orpheus has been worried.”
It hasn’t been that long since Orpheus crossed the River Styx in search of Eurydice and some kind of resolution to the mess Zeus started all those months ago. He always seemed like such a little shit, but obviously there’s more than meets the eye because he’s taken to the lower city like a fish to water. “Where do you want them?”
“You’ll have to leave the vehicle here. Nothing large goes through the barrier. There’s a car on the other side of the bridge that will take them to Orpheus. He’ll handle settling them into their temporary residence.” His smile falls away. “Hades wants Athena at the main house.”
“Sure thing.” I keep my tone easy, but internally, the desire to keep moving makes me jittery. The moment I pass through the barrier to the lower city, I’m trapped until someone with control of it allows me out. I’ll be on one side—and Hermes will be on the other. She can take care of herself. She’s been moving in deep waters for years without concern. There’s no reason to think the endgame will be the sole exception.
But…Circe.
I reluctantly climb out of the car and hold the door open for Athena and the Makoses. The couple walks directly through the barrier without looking back, leaving Athena and me to get their luggage. I glance over in time to see her roll her eyes, a rare expression of irritation. “They got under your skin, too?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She grabs the handles of two suitcases, leaving the other two to me, and follows them.
There’s nothing to do but follow. My skin prickles as we pass through the barrier, but it’s only a vaguely uncomfortable experience. As promised, there are several cars waiting on the other side, more of the legion of black nondescript sedans the Thirteen and their people utilize. Orpheus appears, and then it’s all tears and hugs and a lot of emotion I’d rather not have to witness. Calliope is dramatic, throwing herself into her younger son’s arms as if she’s come through a battle to get here instead of a short car ride.
Thankfully, Athena is of the same mind as me. “Hades is waiting,” she says.
I nod and get the keys from Thanatos. Even if I haven’t spent any time here, Athena likes her people to be prepared for any eventuality. I have the entire map of the city—both lower and upper—memorized. It was a pain in the ass, but the knowledge has come in handy more times than I want to admit.
Hades’s house stands out like a sore thumb in the midst of perfectly normal-looking buildings. He really leaned into the mysterious boogeyman rumors when he rebuilt it after the fire of his youth; it’s a hulking Victorian monstrosity that would be at home in a horror movie if it were perched on a hill surrounded by trees or fields instead plopped right down in the middle of the city.
