“Well, I hope it rounds out like you want it to.”
Dean’s eyes hardened with suspicion. “Hang on, why the change of heart? After all the flak, why are you all of a sudden cool with this?”
Roe shrugged, hedging the question. “I just have a new perspective, that’s all. So, where are you taking her?”
Leaning forward, Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve been freaking out ever since I asked her out.”
“All right, grab a pad and pen and prepare to get schooled.”
Dean snorted. “Oh? Since when were you an expert?”
“Psh,” Roe said with a smirk. “I’ve got skills like you’ve never seen, son.”
Techno music bumped from Apollo’s colossal stereo system as he ran on the treadmill that sat on his patio. The sun gleamed on his tan, built body as his feet flew, his arms pumped, and his mind raced.
Things were not going well for him, and he held onto the one card he had to play: the prophecy.
He only had one bullet, one shot, and if he got trigger happy, he could ruin everything. If he used it too soon, if their feelings weren’t strong enough, the impact would be lost on Lex. The deeper her feelings ran for Dean, the harder she would take the news that he wouldn’t be faithful to her. Of course the circumstances of her getting a prophecy would freak her out regardless, which could potentially stop the date and shut the relationship down before it even got started.
If she took the bait.
She could just disregard it and go out with Dean anyway.
Apollo wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and clicked the treadmill up faster so he could run his thoughts down.
If he waited a little bit longer to use the prophecy, they would go on their date. The risk was that the date could forge their bond in a way he couldn’t break. But there was also a good chance that her feelings would still be fragile enough after the date that the prophecy could shatter them, scare her off in a way that was irreparable.
There was a threshold, a point of no return. Once her feelings for him reached a certain point, she would willingly ignore the prophecy. Apollo just didn’t know when she would reach terminal velocity.
Using it before their date would be low risk, low reward. Waiting until after would be a huge risk, high reward. Apollo had everything to lose, but he would get Daphne in the end — he’d seen it in his vision. So, he decided. He would let the doom-date happen and risk losing big. In his gut, he knew it was the right choice, but his nerves flitted through him still.
He wouldn’t rest easy until Daphne was in his arms.
“Gods, Dita. I am so glad you keep everything.” Perry inspected herself in the gilded mirror that hung on the wall of Dita’s closet devoted to the fifteenth century.
The houppelande that Perry wore was blood red, the deep V lined with black velvet, and her embroidered gold kirtle covered her chest underneath. The sleeves were tight, trailing ribbons at the open elbows where her chemise showed underneath, and the shoulders were slashed to display gold fabric inside.
“Tie me up,” Dita said as she pulled her hair over her shoulder.
Perry pulled the gold ribbons tight and tied a bow. “I’ve always loved this gown on you.”
Dita moved to the mirror and turned, the iridescent fabric shining in shades of blues and greens. Her long dagged sleeves were lined in gold along the hem. “Me too. This one is probably in the top twenty-five.”
“Ooh, let’s do jewelry.” Perry clapped and made her way to Dita’s jewelry cases. “This was my favorite period of dress. No corsets, no annoying layers of fabric on fabric. Just simple elegance with beautiful craftsmanship.” She pulled out a chain with a massive ruby pendant and held it up to her neck. “I liked humans better then, too. At least compared to Georgian or Edwardian times. Their obsession with rules and society were so obnoxious.”
“I know, so uptight.” Dita picked up a gold-netted snood dotted with small diamonds where the threads connected. She twisted her hair up and slipped it into the opulent hair net, as was second nature, having done it for hundreds of years, though hundreds of years before. “I was so sad when these went out of style. And now people only associate them with lunch ladies. So depressing.”
“You know though,” Perry said as she twisted, inspecting her reflection from the side, “I think one of the freakiest fashion trends in all of humanity was when Renaissance women shaved their eyebrows and hairlines to make their foreheads like nine inches long.”
“Oh gods, I know. They looked like freaky alien babies with horned hats on. So bizarre.”
“Oh!” Perry lit up. “Congrats again. Lex said yes!”
“Many thanks,” Dita said with a curtsey. “I knew she would. I’m glad she doesn’t have long to think on it. I’ve got to keep Travis away for a full day, but that shouldn’t be too crazy hard.”
“I can’t believe Travis hasn’t noticed what’s been going on with the two of them.”
Dita shot her a look. “You doubt my work? I’ve always got him looking in the other direction or busy with something when the hormones fly, and what he does see, he doesn’t see for what it is. Blur spell — they could make out right in front of him and he wouldn’t see them.”
“It’s brilliant, Dita.”
Dita bowed.
“I seriously love that dress,” Perry said, shaking her head. “Thou art most beauteous, dearest Aphrodite.”
“As thou art, my Lady Persephone.”
“Dost thou wish we might return to the castles of old?”
“Nay. Methinks not. By my troth, I could not bear to lose elevators and plumbing.”
Perry giggled.
“We have been through so many ages together, Perry.” Dita looked at their reflection as days long past flashed through her memories.
“It’s true. I wouldn’t want to have traveled it with anyone but you.”
“Good times and bad, you’ve always been there for me. Even when we hated each other.”
Perry sighed. “I never really hated you.”
Dita laughed at that. “Lies. When we fought over Adonis?”
“Well, at least that was temporary. I mean you did give him to me to raise after you cursed his mother.”
“She had it coming,” Dita said, trying on a ring. “But you were right to fight me on taking him out of the underworld.”
“No, he was a grown man, and I was selfish for holding him hostage when he should have been on Earth with his kind. With you.”
“But still,” Dita said softly. “You were so angry with me until the day of his funeral.”
Perry nodded as she watched Dita in the mirror. “I was. But you loved him, and he loved you. I just didn’t want to see it because … well, he was the closest thing to a son I’d ever had or would ever have again. And I lost him to you.”
“You never lost him. Not really.”
“But I never had him either,” Perry said, her voice small.
And Dita reached for her hand as she remembered back.
In some ways, she was thankful that Adonis’ mortal life had been so short.
Aphrodite stormed into the wide throne room of Hades with blazing eyes, her robes flying behind her, the ends frayed and smoldering. Her face and arms were smudged with soot, and her singed hair swayed as she marched into the wide hall, her footfalls echoing against the stone, cold even among flames. The gold chain Hephaestus had made to protect her through the trials she’d faced in the underworld was wound around her head like a crown, and she was grateful for it. Without it, she never would have made it so far.
The slate floors were rough under Aphrodite’s feet, and she could feel their coolness through the holes burned into her sandals. She approached the black marble thrones, carved into tree branches wound around skulls and bones. Red flames burned behind jagged black columns of obsidian that ringed the throne room, shining and shimmering as the flames licked wildly at their backs.
Hades sat ta
ll on his throne, his cool blue eyes following her as she entered the room. He laid his hand on Persephone’s, her lips pinched into a thin line, her chin high, though she would not lay eyes on Aphrodite. Adonis slumped in his seat next to Persephone, and Aphrodite’s eyes locked on his.
He moved to stand, but Persephone turned her wounded gaze to him, and he sat back down, watching Aphrodite with yearning.
Aphrodite stopped at the foot of the black marble steps leading to the thrones, her eyes narrow, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms, eyeing the traitor she once called friend.
Persephone’s black hair fell down to her waist, dark and rich against her red robes, a sparkling gold chain woven around her hips.
She turned her dark eyes to Aphrodite, but it was Hades who spoke.
“Aphrodite, you are looking … well, you are looking quite a mess.”
She directed her attention to him, her lips twisted into a scowl. “Yes, well, your tricks and traps cannot keep me away. I have come to reclaim what is mine.”
“Yours?” Persephone rose, her robes sweeping the black ground. “You gave him to me when he was but a babe. He has been with me his entire life, and now you wish to claim him?”
Aphrodite’s brow dropped as she stalked toward Persephone. “I did not give him to you, for he is not a thing. I entrusted him to you, but he is not yours. It was I who saved him after his mother died.”
“Died? Yes, died, after you cursed her. Made her sleep with her own father, or have you forgotten? It was only by Zeus’s blessing that she was able to live long enough to bear Adonis. You were responsible for her death.”
Adonis’s anguished eyes bounced between the two fuming goddesses. The cause of his mother’s death was no secret to him, and they had spoken of her before. He held nothing against Aphrodite and was grateful that he had been able to live life among the gods. Persephone had been an ideal mother, though Aphrodite thought she had been an abysmal friend.
Her eyes snapped back to Persephone. “Do not provoke me. My patience has been exhausted, and I will no longer sneak around as if I were ashamed, as if I could not have him. Release Adonis. You deny him what he wants — he whom you call your son, although he is not your own. He will never be yours.” Wind spun around her, whipping the tatters of her robes against her legs.
“He is mine, Aphrodite. I did what you could not. The love I gave him you could never understand, being … what you are.”
“What I am? And what am I?” The air rushed faster as her voice rose, echoing against the stone as her hair lashed her face.
“You are nothing but a whore,” Persephone sneered.
Aphrodite screamed as she charged up the steps and slammed into Persephone. They hit the ground and tumbled down the stairs, clawing at each other when they reached the bottom. Aphrodite rolled them over, pinning Persephone with her thighs, reaching for her neck, her fingers straining as Persephone pushed against her shoulders, holding Aphrodite just out of reach. Her nails were a hair from Persephone’s long neck when she was lifted away, shrieking and thrashing until she realized that she was in Adonis’s arms.
She sank into them, sobbing quietly.
Persephone screamed, flailing in Hades’s arms, her teeth gnashing and her long hair caught on her bleeding lips as she strained against his grip. Hades bent his head down, his face soft as he whispered something Aphrodite couldn’t hear in her ear.
The room grew dark, and thunder echoed when Zeus marched in, tall in golden armor, his white cloak whipping behind him. He stopped between the goddesses and folded his arms across his chest, assessing the scene with stern eyes.
“I loathe coming to this place, and yet here I am.” He turned to Persephone, his grey eyes hard. “This ends now. Adonis will be freed. He is no longer a child but a man who should be among his own kind, not held prisoner in the underworld.”
She pulled against Hades, her eyes wild with panic. “NO! You cannot, Zeus. He is mine. She gave him to me. She abandoned him, left him here, and I have cared for him as if he were my own son. Please, please do not take him from me!”
Zeus turned his gaze back to Aphrodite, cradled in Adonis’s arms. “It is clear that Adonis loves her, and thus, he is hers.”
Persephone’s wail stretched long, fading into soft weeping.
Zeus eyed Adonis — his face was torn between love as he held Aphrodite and pain as he watched the only mother he had ever known come unraveled in Hades’s arms.
“He cares for you as well, Persephone, perhaps equally. I have a solution.” He looked down his nose at them all. “Adonis will spend a third of his time with Persephone and a third with Aphrodite. As for the final third, he may choose for himself where he shall go. The decision has been made, and the two of you will not speak of it again, or he will be banished from you both.”
With those final words, the words that were absolute law, Zeus turned from the room and stormed away, leaving misery and elation behind him like fire and ashes.
“I didn’t know if we’d ever be all right, Per.”
Perry squeezed Dita’s hand. “I knew we would be. Don’t cry, please. Not over me. It’s long passed.”
“But sometimes it feels like it was only a moment ago.”
“Prithee, my lady,” Perry said, backing away with a dramatic swoop of her hand and a bow, “naught shall keep us apart, not man nor beast nor spoiled man-child.”
Dita laughed. “The Renaissance was so dramatic.”
Perry scooped her into another hug. “I love you.”
“I know,” Dita said, embracing the one who she could never live without. “I love you too.”
Day Eleven
The early morning sun beamed in through the window, washing over Kara, who sat stretched out on her couch, cup of coffee in hand, musing about Lex.
It was unreal that Lex would find someone she was willing to take a leap of faith for — especially given that, by all appearances at least, Dean was not to be trusted.
Kara did, however, trust Roe.
He walked into the room smiling, his blond hair shining, with waffles in hand. Toaster waffles, but still.
She set her coffee down before reaching for the offered plate. “Mmm, thank you.”
Roe leaned down and gave her a kiss before he sat and pulled her feet onto his lap, resting his hands on her legs as she dug in.
The night at The Crow Bar, Lex and Travis had left early since Lex had to work the next morning — or so she’d said. Kevin and Dean had disappeared shortly after, leaving only she and Roe. A game of pool and a kiss in a bar and the rest had just fallen into place.
They’d been carrying on in secret ever since.
Kara and Roe talked through the whole Lex and Dean situation, but it had taken some convincing to get Roe on board entirely. He was playing along, but Kara couldn’t help but get the feeling that he didn’t quite get why he should be rooting for Lex and Dean.
Roe admitted that Dean hadn’t been himself, and he believed Kara when she’d explained Travis and Lex’s relationship, but he didn’t really see the value in getting them together. It seemed to Kara that Roe saw it first and foremost as a potential problem for the band — everyone’s feelings on the situation were secondary.
In turn, Roe had reassured her that Dean was a good guy, aside from his inability to care for any of the women he’d been with. Kara knew it was true — she had watched Dean resist Lex every day when it was painfully clear that he wanted her, and he did it for Roe’s sake, for the band’s sake. And somehow Kara knew Dean was serious about Lex. It was more than just attraction, which would have had an air of levity. There was nothing light about the way Dean looked at Lex. Not one single thing.
Roe chuckled to himself as he watched her eat. “You should have seen Dean’s face when I asked him to hang out on Saturday. It was all I could do not to bust out laughing.”
She smiled, having seen Roe try to lie to Dean the day before at practice — Dean had asked what Roe had
done the night before (Kara) — and his face had screwed up like he was having some kind of episode. “Why didn’t he just lie to you?”
“I’m not sure he could get away with lying to me. I mean, we’ve been like brothers since we were kids, and we lived together for years. I know when he’s lying, and he knows I know. I’m pretty sure I know him better than he knows himself.”
Roe ran his hands down one calf and over her foot, tracing her toes before trailed his fingers back up her leg, distracting her, eliciting a smile. She abandoned her plate on the coffee table and pulled her feet out of his lap.
“I say the same thing about Lex.” She crawled to Roe, climbed onto his lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He leaned in and nuzzled her ear. “Well then, it’s a good thing they have us to play Cupid for them,” he said against her skin as he ran his nose down her neck.
Goosebumps broke out up and down her arms at the sensation. He shifted, his hand on her thigh to hang onto her as he laid her down on the couch, hovering over her with his brilliant smile.
Roe’s lips were millimeters from her own when a knock tapped at the door.
Kara sat up fast, and Roe hit the ground with a thump.
“Uh, who is it?” Kara asked as Roe made a face at her.
“It’s Lex,” she called through the door, the words muffled. “Are you okay? Did you just fall?”
Kara’s eyes flew wide, and she motioned for Roe to move. “I’m fine! Hang on!” She pointed to her bedroom. “Go,” she whispered at him.
He nodded and trotted into the other room. Her eyes scanned the room for any signs of him, and she spotted his shoes next to the couch. She grabbed them, ran to her bedroom door, and chucked them in.
“Ouch! What the fuck, Kara?” he hissed, rubbing his chest.
“Shit! I’m sorry. Sorry!” she hissed back.