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)
Almost exactly three minutes later, the phone vibrates in my hand. I take a deep breath, paste a smile on my face, and answer. “Deo, that was so quick. Be careful or I might think you’re worried.”
“The others won’t believe your blackmail without evidence.”
I laugh. “They have the same evidence you do. They simply need to check.”
A pause. “Were you the one behind Michail’s downfall?”
Not in the least. Michail was a nasty piece of work who even I wasn’t brave enough to seduce. His lovers had a habit of disappearing—and of being far too young. He was found murdered in his bedroom, photographic evidence of his sins literally blood-soaked around his body. “A gentleman never tells, but…” I lower my voice. “It’s not a good idea to cross me.”
I let him chew on the problem I’ve presented, let him realize that he has no recourse. Even if they wanted to kill Circe to cover their respective asses, the others’ sins are too far-reaching. There’s no neat way out of the trap I’ve set. There was never meant to be.
He finally curses and then keeps cursing, threatening me in any number of creative and horrific ways. I wait him out. There’s nothing he can do to touch me right now and we both know it. Better for him to get his frustration out of his system now, so he can think clearly.
Sure enough, it doesn’t take long. A few minutes later, he says, “What do you want?”
“Darling, I’m so glad you asked.” I keep the playful edge in my tone. “You’re going to convince the others to see things my way. Once you do, on my signal, you’ll all sail back to Aeaea and never return.”
He snorts. “You’re asking the impossible.”
“Am I? Circe didn’t hold a gun to any of your heads to come here. Your greed did that for you. Leave her to fight her own battles. Really, Deo, I’m just giving you the excuse to do what you already want to. Leave Circe to be murdered by the Olympians, and step into the power vacuum her death will cause—and you don’t even have to get your hands dirty to do it.”
He’s silent for several beats. “I’ll talk to the others. Do I call you back at this number?”
And have Poseidon answer? “I’ll contact you in a day or two. Have good news for me when I do. Otherwise…” I let the threat hang just long enough to make my point. Then I hang up and brace my shaking hands on the counter of the bathroom.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really did it. I’ve played all the cards in my hand. It’s possible that Deo will attempt to call my bluff. If he does, I’ll have to figure out the most strategic way to proceed. I hope it won’t come to that, though. I’m giving them the excuse to do exactly what those selfish cowards always do—look out for themselves first, often at the expense of others.
I close my eyes and concentrate on getting my breathing back under control. It never used to be this difficult to play the game. I don’t like the implications of what it means, so I refuse to examine them.
I have to play this game to its conclusion…even if it kills me in the process.
22
Poseidon
I wake up the moment Icarus leaves the bed, lie there silently as he digs through my clothing to get my phone, and stare at the ceiling for the entirety of the time he’s in the bathroom. Long enough to damn Olympus entirely. And yet I can’t make myself get out of bed.
Why the secrecy? Why wait until he’s sure I’m asleep to make this move? It’s hard to make my brain, still sluggish with sleep and remembered pleasure, come to any other conclusion. He’s doing something he doesn’t want me to know about. Betrayal coats my tongue, ruining the happiness that had been bubbling up inside me.
I don’t want to know that he just gave me one of the best sexual experiences I’ve ever had and barely waited for our bodies to cool before he stabbed me in the back.
Stopping him is what I should do, but what can he tell Circe—because who else would he call that he feels like he has to hide from me?—that she doesn’t already know? That we’re wholly unprepared for an attack? That we’re evacuating as many civilians as possible to the countryside? That there’s no chance the Thirteen will unite in time to vote for war? She’s been watching us long enough to have planned for all of it. More, she grew up in Olympus. She has an insider’s knowledge.
None of it matters. I’m making excuses because of the hurt kindling in my chest. I was never a child who played pretend, but apparently I’m an adult willing to close my eyes and block my ears as long as I keep one of the people who wants my city to burn in my bed. Pathetic. The word is dipped in poison and sounds so much like my late uncle that I flinch.