Aphrodite

  “It is. We have to make sure the picture on the card matches the person holding it before they make any purchases or leave the vessel.”

  “Perfect. What time do you get off?”

  “Eleven-thirty.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  He hurried out of the room. When the door closed, I kicked off my heels, enjoying the feel of the thick white carpet beneath my aching feet before climbing upstairs, dragging my smallest suitcase with me. The wheels thudded up each step as I yanked the heavy bag behind me. Even in February, Miami felt muggy. All I wanted to do was take a shower and change into something cool.

  “Not too bad,” I murmured, looking around the bedroom. It actually reminded me of the cookie-cutter beach house I’d charmed my way into back in Pebble Beach. Two white chairs and a small, glass-topped table were set up in front of the half-wall that allowed an unobstructed view of the living area below. A smaller windowed wall leading out to a tiny balcony stood adjacent to the staircase.

  I grunted as I heaved my suitcase onto the king-sized bed with enough force to send a ripple of movement along the length of the white comforter. But I barely got the thing unzipped before I heard voices outside my room.

  “I’m telling you, this is my room.”

  “No, sir.” Miguel’s heavily accented voice sounded out of breath, as if he’d just run a marathon. “This room belongs to a young woman, I—”

  “Open. The. Door.”

  The lock clicked and I made my way to the staircase, determined to charm whoever came in the room into moving on.

  Below me, the door swung open, slamming into the wall. The blue paintings shuddered, but held, and delicate clinking sounds came from the chandelier. A familiar demigod stepped over the threshold.

  “Adonis,” I breathed.

  “Ask them to swear fealty to me.” The memory of Zeus’s voice echoed through my mind.

  Adonis had been there, along with Ares, Hephaestus, and Persephone’s priestess, Melissa. But only Adonis had been immune to my charm. He’d seen the way my body moved of its own accord, forcing me to obey Zeus’s command. I’d known what would come next, but I was powerless to stop it. Zeus had planned to use me to force Ares and Hephaestus to swear over all their power until they turned to dust. Suicide by devotion. Then he’d planned to make me kill Adonis and Melissa for him. Not because they were a threat, but because killing them would hurt me. And then maybe, if I was very, very lucky, Zeus would have let me die instead of forcing me to live on as his puppet.

  Behind Adonis, Miguel babbled apologies while making wild motions to indicate how Adonis had forced himself into the room. Neither one of us paid any attention to him.

  “Aphrodite?” He looked dazed at the sight of me.

  Memories bombarded me.

  Words rose in me, filled my mouth, and pushed against my lips. Swallowing, I forced them down, but they tore at my throat. A strangled, keening wail filled the room, sounding so alien, so desperate and helpless, that, at first, I didn’t place it as mine. I wouldn’t do this to them. Zeus would kill them in an instant. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—Stop!

  My lips parted of their own volition, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. Zeus crossed his arms, looking bored. I couldn’t resist forever, and he knew it. Every fiber in my being pulled at me to obey his command.

  I looked away from Zeus, but found I couldn’t face the blind devotion in Ares’s and Hephaestus’s eyes. There was nothing left of them. All they wanted to do was please me. This was wrong. My vision blurred, and I blinked away the tears, looking to Adonis instead. His bravery and strength was telegraphed in his stiff posture and the trust in the eyes he kept glued to my face.

  A small smile formed on his face, cool and confident. Just wait, it seemed to say. We’ll get out of this.

  And we had. All because of him.

  “Is he traveling with you?” Miguel wedged Adonis’s suitcase between the door and the frame. He looked ready to throw Adonis out of the room if I said no.

  “You can go,” I told Miguel, infusing enough charm behind the words to make sure he did as I asked.

  “What—” Adonis asked when the door closed behind Miguel. “How—Why are you here?”

  Oh, gods. I recovered from my shock enough to realize what Adonis being here meant. “You need to leave.” I rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in my haste to reach him before the cruise left shore. “Adonis you need to go. It’s not—”

  “This is my room,” he argued, snapping out of his daze enough to grow defensive. “Bought and paid for. I don’t know what you’re—”

  “—safe. You can’t be on this ship.” I reached for his bag as I grabbed his arm, propelling him toward the door. That I’d charmed my way into his room seemed too great a coincidence to process right now. For now, I just thanked the Primordials that I’d discovered him on board before it was too late. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the dock.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not safe? He wrenched his arm free and grabbed his bag from me. “What is going on?”

  “Demigods are going missing.” I filled him in as best I could, stealing anxious glances toward the balcony to make sure the ship hadn’t yet set sail. “It’s not safe for you to be here.”

  Adonis swore, his eyes going to the chandelier as he digested what I told him. “I can’t just leave,” he said finally. “I’m here for work. It’s this big event. We’ve got shoots scheduled at each of the ports and—”

  “Any other demigods?” Demigods, particularly those in possession of charm, gravitated to fields like modeling, performing, or politics. What better way to get multiple demigods in one place than by targeting their most probable career paths? I made a mental note to check if the other cruises were geared toward any demigod-heavy fields.

  “What?” Adonis shook his head. “None from my agency. Across the whole convention, maybe three or four.” He swore again. “I’ve got to warn them.”

  Having three or four demigods on one ship was far too unlikely to be written off as coincidence. They were probably all targets. But if he told them, if they behaved differently because of what they knew, I might lose my chance to figure out who or what was taking them. “Let me handle that. In the meantime,” I pushed him toward the door, “why don’t we find your boss, and I don’t know, maybe charm him into thinking you stayed on board the whole time? Do you want a raise? I think I can work in a raise. Let’s just—”

  He didn’t budge. “What’s your plan?”

  “Right now? To get you off this boat.” I clenched my jaw, wishing Adonis were a normal demigod I could just charm into leaving. But Adonis was special. Thanks to centuries of inbreeding, Adonis was not only immune to anyone else’s charm, he seemed to have control over his own. The inbreeding bit isn’t as gross as it sounds. Before Zeus died, he’d experimented with turning demigods to gods. Adonis’s parents were both Zeus’s offspring. As were their parents before that, and their parents before that. Making Zeus Adonis’s grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great grandfather, and so on, on both sides.

  Okay, maybe that is as gross as it sounds, but gods don’t have the same incest taboo as humans. We don’t pass on genetic material, just power.

  Adonis leaned against the door. “I spent enough time with you last year to know that you’re not infallible, Aphrodite. None of you gods are, no matter what you think.” He pushed away from the door. “Demigods are going missing; I’m a demigod. So are my little sisters—”

  “You have sisters?”

  Adonis gave me a look that warned me that topic was closed. “What are you planning to do here? You’re not wearing a glamour; why? Anyone who knows anything is going to look at you and see goddess. Is that part of your plan? Is the Pantheon using you as a distraction? Someone that random power signatures can be attributed to while Persephone
or one of the gods works in the background?”

  “How about I explain on the way.” I pulled open the door, but Adonis shut it, keeping his arm pushed against it for good measure. With a frustrated sigh, I whirled on him, talking fast so he’d leave already. “I can’t hide that there’s a god on board, even with a glamour, because the power that it takes to maintain a glamour is something we can sense. Almost no one has heard of me. I figure it’s better to let who or whatever is behind this notice me so they can write me off. Let them assume that I’m not one of the very few gods who could withstand the level of charm it takes to pull off what they’re doing.”

  Adonis fell silent while he considered that, taking an infuriatingly long time to do so. “Okay, but what if instead of blending in, you used a glamour to look like us. Demigods can’t normally control their powers, so any stray power could be explained away if you looked like one of us.” The more he talked, the more excited he seemed to get about his idea. “There’s this demigoddess I know—Elise. She was supposed to come to the convention, but she landed this skincare gig at the last minute. We could say it fell through. You could look like her and get taken with us. You’ll get to learn everything that’s going on and if you need to, you can teleport back to the rest of the gods to bring in the cavalry.”

  I rubbed my temples, trying to think of the fastest way off the ship. We’d have to go to the main deck, right? “That’s . . . an elaborate plan.”

  “Thanks. So . . . ?”

  I tugged at the door again to no avail. “I could look like her, but I couldn’t claim to be her. I can’t lie, remember? So what if someone asks her a question that I can’t answer? Don’t you think I’d actually draw more attention to myself if I tried and failed to impersonate a demigod?”

  “But you’ve lost the element of surprise,” he protested. “So whatever is behind this is going to see you coming. What about the demigods that have already gone missing? By being so obvious, you might actually be putting them in danger. And then there are the demigods still on board. Did you even consider them?”

  There wasn’t a good way to tell him this wasn’t a rescue mission. I wasn’t supposed to stop the demigods from going missing. Just observe, report, and let the realm rulers figure out what they wanted to do with the information.

  As it turned out, I didn’t need to say anything. Adonis studied me for a long moment, his mouth dropping open as he figured out what I wouldn’t say. “We’re expendable to you, aren’t we? You don’t actually care that we’re going missing. You just want to make sure whatever happens to us isn’t a threat to you.”

  “Adonis . . .” I dropped my eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze.

  “And you wonder why they all hate you.” His gold eyes locked to mine, smoldering with rage. “The few mortals who even know gods exist.”

  No, we all knew. We’d never had to wonder. The boat bobbed on the waves as we left the port. I focused on the movement, the swaying chandelier, the subtle sound of the ocean beyond the glass walls, uncomfortable with the turn this conversation had taken.

  Adonis clenched his fists. “You’re callous, and selfish, and—”

  Okay, enough. Calming ocean crap could only drown out so many insults. “You do realize you’re not speaking to a collective here, right? Just me.”

  “What, like you’re any different?” Adonis shook his head in disgust. “You’ve known for over a year Zeus wasn’t the one causing demigods to go missing. Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “They aren’t dead.” Hades would have seen them in the Underworld.

  “So what?” Adonis crossed his arms, then dropped them as if he’d realized he’d mirrored my pose. “You guys assumed ‘not dead’ equaled fine?”

  “Zeus said he didn’t touch the demigods, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t behind them going missing. And the disappearances seemed to stop when he died. If I’d known you were still in danger, Adonis, I would have warned you.”

  “You would?”

  “Of course.” I’d throw myself into the hottest pits of Tartarus before I let Adonis get hurt. He’d trusted me. Even knowing Zeus could have made me kill him with a word, he’d put his faith in me. That meant more to me than he’d ever know. I grabbed his hands. “I’m warning you now, aren’t I? You’re my friend. You’re not expen—”

  “We are not friends,” Adonis exploded.

  My breath caught. Adonis’s faith in me had kept me going through one of the worst moments of my life. Adonis’s strength held me together when giving in felt like the only option. He hadn’t just stopped me from doing something I’d spend the rest of my life regretting, he saved my life. I wouldn’t still exist if it wasn’t for him. But now, he was looking at me as if he’d rather I didn’t.

  “You really don’t get it, do you?” His golden eyes raked over my face, full of anger and disgust. “What is it you’re expecting here, Aphrodite? Gratitude? You think you can just tell me my entire species is being rounded up, never to be heard from again, and expect me to leave? To fall over my feet, grateful you deigned to warn me? Hell, no. I’m not going anywhere.” He snatched his bag and headed toward the stairs. “If anyone should leave, it should be you. I can’t be charmed into forgetting anything. Do your god thing and put a trace on me. Assuming ‘not dead’ doesn’t equal catatonic, I’ll fill you in on all the details when you find me.”

  Still stunned, I shook my head. “I’m not using you as bait.”

  “I’m a hell of a lot more motivated to get to the bottom of this than you,” he argued. “Go do whatever it is that you do. I’ll make sure my people stay safe.”

  “I can’t track you.” There were gods that could trace power signatures from across the globe, but I wasn’t one of them. “But if you insist on staying . . .”

  “I do.”

  “Then I guess I’ll be needing a new room.” I turned to go get my bags, unwilling to let him see how much his words had hurt.

  “There are no other rooms.” Adonis sounded tired. “They offered me this upgrade because mine was double-booked. Then they tried to kick me off the boat entirely because of you.”

  What, was he expecting an apology? I forced a smile to my face. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll have trouble finding a place to sleep.”

  “Because you’re going to charm someone out of their suite? No.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that. “And who exactly is going to stop me?”

  Adonis looked like he wanted to protest, but then his shoulders slumped. “You know what?” He grabbed his bag and headed toward the stairs. “I don’t care what you do. I’ve got to get ready for orientation. You can get your stuff out of here when I leave.”

  Awkward silence filled the room as Adonis lugged his suitcase upstairs. I kept my gaze fastened on the white carpet, feeling ashamed, defensive, and stunned all at once. Maybe I should have worried more about the other demigods. But it wasn’t as if I wanted any harm to come to them. I wasn’t a monster. Just not all that compassionate.

  Persephone would care.

  Yeah, well, Persephone was perfect and she had the power to do something about the missing demigods. I’d had my own stuff to deal with since Zeus died. So what if I’d assumed gods more capable than me were investigating the disappearances. I wasn’t wrong. As soon as something popped up that I could help with, I’d jumped in, hadn’t I? So why did I feel like that wasn’t enough, all of a sudden?

  What do I care what some half-breed thinks of me? I tossed my hair, trying to collect myself. To ignore how hurt he’d made me feel. Whatever. He’d made my job easier. Now all I needed to do was watch him, see what happened, then report to Poseidon.

  Screw Adonis.

  Chapter IV

  WHEN ADONIS LEFT for orientation, I followed. So maybe I couldn’t charm him into leaving, and I lacked the physical strength to drag him off the boat.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t charm a few passengers into helping me out. I’d get a certain satisfaction in watching him be dragged off the ship.

  Right up until I had to report to Persephone and Poseidon that I’d made a scene using charm.

  Shoulders slumping, I realized that there was nothing I could do to remove Adonis without putting my mission in jeopardy. So I might as well use him. Chances were good that the other demigod models would be at this orientation as well. I needed to get a look at the potential targets.

  I caught up to Adonis on the staircase. He tensed, but he didn’t slow down or acknowledge my presence. By the time we reached the promenade deck, I had a pretty good idea where we were headed. When Adonis made a beeline for the main auditorium, I slowed.

  “You know, if I had a gorgeous goddess following me, I’d slow down.” An unfamiliar demigod stood beside the silver set of double doors. He looked taller than Adonis, but way more muscular.

  “Tantalus.” The muscular demigod offered me his hand, then shifted, grabbing me before I walked into the “Private Function” sign mounted on a gold pole. “Watch out.”

  Letting out an embarrassed laugh, I stumbled into Tantalus. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself; I’ve only been walking for three years. It takes practice. “Thanks.”

  “Here for the convention?” Tantalus kept his hands on my shoulders and didn’t move away from me or out of the way of the door.

  “Um . . . actually . . .” I trailed off, stepping away from him and through the double doors into the darkened auditorium. I could charm him into not telling anyone about my investigation. I could even charm him into reporting to me if he saw anything suspicious. But in a room like this, there was no telling how far even a whisper could carry, not to mention who or what else would see the power signature from my charm. I searched for another reason for being here, but drew a blank. “I wanted to go on a cruise?”