Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I won’t let it happen.
I clamp my jaw shut to keep the words inside. If I tell Icarus that now, he’ll think I’m only saying it because I want the information in his pretty head. Or that it’s only the orgasm and pain making me silly and romantic enough to issue promises I have no intention of keeping. He has no reason to trust me. To trust anyone.
I silently vow to myself that I will see him come out of this alive and well, and I’ll give him whatever money he needs to start a new life. Someone should escape Olympus, after all.
If I hadn’t been at the marina, he might have managed it on his own.
But I need those secrets he holds. I need to give the city as much of a fighting chance as we can possibly manage. There are too many lives on the line. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
Icarus frowns down at me. “I’m not really the sleepover type.”
He’s trying to withdraw from me, to put up barriers between us. I should allow it. It’s the right thing to do. I don’t; the thought is abhorrent to me. I want to grasp at him with greedy hands, to hold him to me. But why would he want such a thing from me?
“Come here.” I don’t mean to say it, don’t mean to hold out my hand in a physical plea for closeness.
He huffs. “You’re going to get the wrong idea and end up getting your heart broken.”
Maybe. Probably. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It feels wrong to leave him like this, alone and in his room, and so I won’t. Not unless he specifically asks me to…but I suppose I should give him the opportunity to tell me to leave. He puts on a good front, which means I can’t guarantee he actually trusts this balance enough to advocate for himself. “Do you want me to leave? Just say the word, and I will.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous.” He rolls his eyes and flops down next to me. “Stay. It’s too late for you to go wandering the halls. You’re liable to fall down a set of stairs, and then I’ll be left in the tender care of your people, and we both know that’s a death sentence for me.”
His words have the ring of truth. I hate that. But it doesn’t stop me from gathering him close and letting the steady beat of his heart lull me to sleep.
15
Icarus
Falling asleep with Poseidon was strange. Waking up alone should put me right back into familiar territory. It’s what I’m used to, after all. There’s absolutely no reason for the odd ache in my chest. I take a leisurely shower, but it only eats up an hour of what promises to be a long and boring day. By the time I’m done and dressed in a set of clothes that belong to someone taller and thicker than me, my stomach is making loud and unhappy noises. I try the door and, once again, the knob turns easily against my palm.
No one leaps out to stop me, so I carefully retrace my steps to the front door. The house feels empty in a way that makes me shiver. Surely if there was danger, Poseidon would have locked me in or let me know. My stomach grumbles again, deciding for me. I push through the front door and follow the path to the hulking main house.
Every step, I expect to be accosted, but no one leaps from the bushes to tell me to get my captive ass back to my room. It’s a relief to step into the main house and walk into the kitchen…until I see her.
Hermes sits cross-legged on the kitchen island, a giant bowl of marshmallow cereal cradled in her lap. She pauses, a spoon halfway to her mouth, and studies me. “You look pretty well for a captive.”
Against all odds, I find myself blushing. I’d like to think she didn’t know what Poseidon and I were up to last night, but in our short acquaintance, Hermes has always seemed to know more than she should. The Olympians treat her as if she’s one degree removed from magic itself. I suspect it’s something far more mundane—excellent surveillance, a connection to whatever system Olympus relies on for its cameras, and a twisty brain in that gorgeous head of hers.
I can’t help glancing over my shoulder, wondering what Poseidon would think of her presence. There’s absolutely no way they’re on good speaking terms, not after everything that’s happened. Not after she brought down the barrier. Personally, I haven’t seen her since the party my father…
Just like that the reality of him being gone crashes over me. I still don’t know if I’m relieved or grieving or something else altogether. I haven’t had the space to untangle my complicated feelings about his death. I suspect I won’t have that space anytime soon. It seems to defy belief that sometimes I forget he’s dead.