The Iron Queen (Daughters of Zeus) (11 page)

“It’s a long story.” Her shoulders slumped, and she returned her attention to me.

“He comes with us.”

“Like hell!”

“I’m not stupid, Hades. Zeus has your wife, and you want him dead. I’m one of the few people who can make that happen.” She tilted her chin up, eyes glittering with defiance. “If you want my help. He comes too.”

Chapter XXII

Persephone

“I’m impressed.” Zeus still looked like Hades as he stroked my cheek. “I didn’t expect you to hold out this long.”

Thinking of the pearl Aphrodite offered me, I realized she’d been right all along.

Death could be a mercy. The torture blended together in such a painful haze that I’d lost the ability to distinguish between the waking world and dreamscapes. Propped up against that familiar wall of mist, my hand clutched my necklace. I was crushing the poor plant, but I couldn’t seem to loosen my grip.

I’d been prepared for pain when Zeus stormed into the room, but he seemed even more agitated than usual. And he’d taken it out on me.

Gods, I was in so much pain. It was probably a dream. If he wasn’t electrocuting me anymore, I was most likely dreaming.

“The question is how are you still refusing me? You’re not this strong.”

Sometimes he looked like Hades when I was awake though. It was hard to tell. Was I awake, or was I sleeping?

Did it matter?

He was still talking. As he launched into his insulting tirade, I smiled to myself. Zeus was losing ground. The list of insults grew shorter by the day. He could no longer call me weak because of what I’d survived, he couldn’t call me common because he couldn’t figure me out, and he’d even lost stupid because he knew I would have broken by now if I hadn’t found some way around swearing fealty.

Sure, he could still say hurtful things. Terrible things if I allowed myself to focus on them. But the shock of hearing insults from Hades’ voice had long since worn off. Besides, I was in high school. I’d heard way worse.

I couldn’t allow myself to look too comfortable. When Zeus saw something wasn’t working, he found some new hell to put me through. Each of his ideas was worse than the last.

Was I dreaming? I’d figured out how to tell once, but I’d forgotten when I came to. It was something important. Something I might be able to do next time I was under.

Zeus’ face rippled, twisting back to his own features. “They’re building an army down on the surface. Just to find you. Every remaining god under one roof, driven together for a common purpose.” He grinned, like that made him happy for some reason. “What makes you so special?” He looked at me like he wanted to slice me open and see what made me tick. “What does he see in you?”

There was a way to tell. The memory slid around my brain like water, but I couldn’t grab hold of a thought long enough to think it. He’d broken my mind, shattered it into a thousand pieces. Meh, who needed recall abilities?
Something
in my mind was whole and present, otherwise I wouldn’t still be walking and talking. The longer I sat here, the more it healed. “Their common purpose isn’t me. It’s you. Everyone hates you enough to want you dead. Can you blame them?”

“I was their hero once.” He almost sounded sad.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, letting my head loll against the wall of mist. This was as close to rest as I got. I was going to take advantage of it. “And now you’re psychotic.” I shrugged. “It happens.”

His eyes narrowed. “Your mother didn’t seem to mind.”

Oh, he had
not
just gone there. “I’ve never had to ask what her biggest regret was.”

“You?”

I laughed. “Hardly. She loves me more than
anything.
But I guess you wouldn’t know what that’s like. Your parents thought you were an abomination—”

“Shut up.”

In a flash, I remembered. Most of my powers didn’t work in his realm, but I could set the rules in my own head. “My mom hates you, you know. But I guess that shouldn’t surprise you. I can’t think of a single person or deity who doesn’t.” When I was sure his attention was fully on me, I concentrated on using my powers. A small red poppy grew in the corner of the room behind Zeus.

A dream, perfect. Fractured pieces of the plan I put together during the rare times I was conscious enough to think came to me. I drew in a deep breath. I’d never tried anything like this before, so there was a big chance my plan wouldn’t work. But at this point I’d take any chance, no matter how slim. “You
created
Aphrodite to be loyal to you, and even she can’t stand you.”

Rage reddened his face. “You’re going to want to be very careful what you say to me.”

I concentrated hard enough to make vines shoot around his legs, holding him in place.

“You’re in my head, remember.” I was probably going to regret this when I came to. But really, he already tortured me all day. What did I have to lose? Stepping outside of my dream, I called “
Adios.
”

My mind closed to all visitors, locking down my dreamscape without me in it. I didn’t know how that worked or how soon Zeus would be able to get out, but if I could keep Zeus occupied even for a few minutes…

My eyes shot open, and I sprang out of bed. Throwing open the door to the bedroom, I looked up and down the misty hallway. Which way led to the exit?

Turning right, I sprinted down the hall until I came to a huge room filled with sunlight and a massive door of mist. I pulled it open and gaped at the endless sky that spread in all directions. If there was land beneath me, I couldn’t see it. I swallowed hard. This was probably going to hurt.

Chapter XXIII

Aphrodite

I yawned and inspected my nails. Divine meetings were boring as hell.

Hades stood in the front of the room, his dark clothes sucking in the cheery brightness of Demeter’s home like a black hole. “Who are we missing?” Hades paused, deep in thought, gaze fixed on Demeter’s white couch. “Is anyone else still around?”

“Hebe?” Ares suggested. He hadn’t shed the jacket, despite the stifling heat of the overcrowded home.

I winced, expecting an onslaught of information and images to rush over me, but there wasn’t much to know about Hebe. She was the goddess of youth, and apparently—

“Dead,” Hades confirmed.

I would have thought a goddess of youth would be safe. This culture seemed to worship it enough.

“Eileithyia?” one of the muses asked, referring to the goddess of the pain of childbirth.

Wait, seriously? I racked my brain and came up with hundreds upon thousands of useless gods of mists and doorways and clouds. No wonder so many of the gods were dead. What a waste of worship.

“She didn’t last very long after they invented the epidural.” Demeter sat on her couch, feet tucked under her, drinking a cup of steaming tea. If having so many deities running freely through her home bothered her, she didn’t show it.

The humans on the other hand looked ready to crawl out of their skin. With the exception of the new human, Ryan, they sat clustered at the kitchen table as though they were clinging to safety in numbers as a defense against the massive gathering of gods. Ryan was still upstairs with Artemis getting filled in on all things divine. Lucky him. Adonis, Melissa, Orpheus, and Eurydice looked like they’d rather be
anywhere
else, including Tartarus.

“Hephaestus?” Apollo hopped off the last step of the staircase, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He looked almost normal in blue jeans and a white T-shirt with a smiling sun wearing sunglasses.

Everyone in the room fell silent. At first I thought they were snubbing Apollo, then the name he’d said hit my system.

The information came so fast, it almost didn’t have time to process. Raised voices, a stack of weapons glittering in the sun, a flash of lightning, and a cry of pain, discord on Olympus followed by averted eyes and buried guilt. Wow! There was some history there.

“Let’s…not involve him,” Demeter suggested. The tension in the room eased palpably.

Not involve him?
We needed all the help we could get.

I looked across the room at Melissa, and she inclined her head in a slight nod. Smiling, I found myself glad she was on board with my unspoken plan to recruit Hephaestus. Melissa wasn’t so bad. At least not when she acted more like me and less like an entitled selfish brat. I was pleased to be rubbing off on her. It’s not often one can claim credit for making the world a less irritating place, but I wasn’t going to let the accomplishment go to my head.

Persephone deserved the best possible chance. The best way of giving her that was to bring as many gods into this as possible. However uncomfortable the rest of the gods were with what had happened, no one could deny Hephaestus was powerful.

Demeter seemed to notice Adonis for the first time. “Who is that?” She leaned forward, placing her tea on a wicker side table and fixed Adonis with a penetrating glare.

Melissa smirked. “Aphrodite and I found him. He’s Zeus’. We figured he’d be next on the hit list—

“And what?” Demeter demanded. “You felt we had the extra resources to protect him right now?”

Melissa seemed surprised, but I understood what Demeter was getting at. We didn’t have the manpower to keep our eyes on another person. I had pretty much taken up all the leeway left. But I had a solution. “I thought he could stay in the Underworld.”

“Wait, what?” This was news to Adonis.

I nodded. The Underworld was safe. Though whether I thought it kept Adonis safe, or us safe from Adonis, I wasn’t sure. Something about him gave me the creeps. “Hades, don’t you need a few extra hands down there anyway? I just thought—”

“I’m not going to the Underworld!” Adonis objected.

Orpheus hushed him, and the rest of the gods seemed to decide it was time to explore the house.

Demeter ignored Adonis, her eyes focused on me, glittering with rage. “We can’t trust you for help or ideas, and you know that. Anything you say is automatically suspect—”

“Why?” Adonis asked.

“Shut up!” Orpheus hissed. He grabbed the young demigod’s arm and made as if to lead him from the room, but drew up short when Hades stepped in from of him.

Hades’ electric-blue eyes swept over Adonis with such intensity that Adonis seemed to shrink in on himself. “There’s something different about this one,” Hades murmured.

Orpheus gave Adonis an apologetic look, felt backward for Eurydice’s hand, and retreated from the room, pulling her along with him. Smart man.

“He’s one of Zeus’ eugenics projects.” Demeter waved a dismissive hand. “That’s why I hadn’t bothered with him. Zeus isn’t likely to come after—”

“Eugenics?” Hades’ eyebrows shot up.

Demeter either missed or just didn’t care about the warning in his tone. “His mother was a demigod, so was his grandmother, and her mother before that, and her mother before that going back centuries. His father had the same type of—”

“His father?” I leaned forward. “His father is Zeus. He’s got charm. I can feel it.”

“No.” Demeter clasped her hands together. “His grandfather is Zeus, on both sides, and his great-grandfather and his great-great grandfather.” The list continued for a few more generations, but we got the gist of it. Adonis was inbred to the extreme.

Adonis sat down in the chair fast. He looked ill.

“Zeus isn’t going to kill him,” Demeter continued. “I’m sure there’s a female version of him out there somewhere he’ll be compelled to breed with. Zeus will be curious to see what happens with their child.”

“He has charm,” I repeated, unable to believe
anyone
not directly descended from a god could have powers. Demigods didn’t pass on powers to their children. They didn’t even pass on ichor, the golden blood of the gods that gave them their physical characteristics. “He’s immune to it, too.”

Hades and Demeter both looked shocked at this development. Gods weren’t even immune to charm. Not really. With enough power we could shield ourselves against it, but any one of us could be taken off guard.

“How many of these ‘projects’ does Zeus have going?” Hades demanded, his tone making it clear he didn’t agree with Demeter’s word choice.

Demeter shrugged. “Plenty, I’m sure. He wanted to see how long it would take to create new gods through the humans. Looks like he’s only a few generations away.”

“That’s sick!” Melissa exploded. “How can you talk about this like it’s some casual thing?”

Demeter drew back in surprise. “I didn’t intend—”

“We’re
people!
” Melissa snapped, brown eyes blazing. “You don’t get to breed us like lab rats, or control us, or make assumptions. What if you’re wrong and Zeus wants him dead? That risk is fine with you? I guess he’s just human after all. We don’t matter much compared to your divine egos.”

“Melissa, that’s enough!” Demeter snapped.

I raised my eyebrows. I’d never heard Demeter use her mom voice. It was pretty scary.

Melissa knew Demeter better than I did, and she didn’t seem nervous, but still, it might be the better call to get her out of here. I looked to Hades for a clue. He seemed distracted. Touching his temples, he looked like his head could be bugging him, but he wasn’t quite sure.

Wait.
I’d looked away but some detail drew my head back to Hades with a snap. A smear of bright red blood collected under his nose. Hades stared at his bloodied fingers like they belonged to someone else.

“Demeter,” I gasped. But her focus was on Melissa.

Melissa narrowed her eyes at Demeter. “I don’t answer to you. As far as I’m concerned, the only member of this entire pathetic pantheon who matters is Persephone. The human race is better without the rest of your meddling and manipulations and
disguises!”

The whole Zeus was Joel revelation hadn’t gone over well with her. Adonis touched Melissa’s arm and stage whispered, “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but don’t forget who you’re talking to.”