And face it she would. Everyone would be upstairs waiting for her. Including Ares.
Anxiety flashed through her as it did every time he crossed her mind. While she was in Greece, she thought of him less and less, and for a second she convinced herself that she was coping. Getting over it. But then she would hear something, smell something, and her memories would kick her back in time with a jolt. She knew she’d be a pendulum until the right amount of time passed, but it didn’t stop her from hoping that her heart would somehow heal faster. That she would wake up, and the pain would be behind her. But deep down she knew it wasn’t even close to being over. She’d stopped crying, though, which was something.
Any moment, she would see Ares in flesh. She pictured him standing before her with his dark eyes cutting into her, his fists clenched at his sides. She pushed the thought away and bucked up. Maybe he wouldn’t show. Maybe he would be just as nervous and upset about seeing her and would stay away, since he had a choice where she didn’t. But then she remembered he was undeniably Ares. Of course he would be there and would probably do something to upset her.
The thought ramped up her nerves a notch further, and she took a deep breath, trying for reason. She told herself he would be cautious enough, that all the gods would be watching. Surely he wouldn’t do anything stupid, not with Zeus’ threats of banishment looming over him. If all that was true, then there was little he could do to get to her. If she didn’t let him affect her, she’d be fine.
Sure, just don’t let him get to you. Simple. She bit her lip.
Dita flung off her covers and padded into her infinity closet, ditching her tight little sleep shorts and tank for jeans and a cotton Henley, making sure that the small buttons at the collar were almost buttoned to the top. The last thing she needed was to draw any extra attention from he-who-must-not-be-named. She had no idea how she would handle seeing want in his eyes.
Baby steps.
Dita walked to the elevator with Bisoux trotting behind her. She picked him up and looked into his little black eyes, hanging on to him like a life preserver.
“We can do this. Right, buddy?”
Bisoux let out a little bark, and Dita stepped into the elevator, finding ironic comfort in knowing that, at the very least, her robot dog was on her side.
Her nerves ticked like a time bomb as the elevator climbed and the doors opened. She stepped into the expansive foyer and toward the sleek, modern kitchen where the Olympians bustled around making breakfast, coffee, or in Dionysus’ case, a White Russian. A handful of gods sat around the kitchen island bar eating, and she froze just outside of the room with a twisted stomach, scanning their faces for Ares. Instead, she found Perry, who sat at the long table, and relief slipped over her as she uprooted her feet and made her way across the room.
The noise in the room fell to hushed whispers as she locked eyes with Perry and put on a plastic smile, and several dozen eyes watched her walk through the kitchen and to the table.
“You okay?” Perry’s brows knit together with worry as the conversation began to rise to normal, non-asshole levels.
“For now.” Dita sat, and her eyes roamed the room from wall to wall as if Ares would just appear out of thin air.
“Breakfast?”
Dita shook her head. “Not unless you want me to puke.”
The waiting was unbearable. She had nothing to say to Perry or anyone else, not with every ounce of brain power she possessed anticipating him, anxiously waiting for the shock and hurt and anger to slap her in the face when she laid eyes on him.
Heff took the seat on the other side of her, and she felt a small amount of relief sitting between the two of them. Her stomach rumbled when she saw the bacon on his plate next to his eggs and toast.
“Want some?” he asked, his blue eyes and rumbling voice full of concern.
She smiled, grateful that he didn’t ask about Ares. “I’m okay.”
He relaxed only a little, smiling in answer from behind his beard. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“I missed you, too. Thank you so much for the windows, Heff … they’re brilliant.”
“I’ve been working on them for years, but I’ve never been able to get them just right. It was my top project while you were gone, and I almost didn’t get them ready in time.”
“They’re perfect, really.” She beamed at him, and he flushed.
“I’m glad you think so. Did you find the remote on your nightstand?”
“No, how did I miss that?”
He leaned back in his chair and hung an arm on the back of hers. “I’m sure you had other things on your mind. You can change your view to New York, Paris, London, Greece. I programmed over a hundred views.”
She was moved by the thought and care he’d put into the gift, and in her fragile state, her eyes misted up. “Gods, I don’t deserve you.”
He scanned her face as he brushed her hair away from her cheek. “Dita—”
The elevator dinged, and Dita’s eyes flew to the doors as they opened. Ares leaned against the back wall with his arms folded across his broad chest and his dark hair in disarray. Her nerves fired when their eyes met, sending a tingle all the way down to her fingers.
“Shitstick Von ChiliRim,” Perry whispered, and a shocked cackle burst out of Dita as her heart jump-started in her chest.
Ares pushed off from the back wall of the elevator, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. He broke away as he strolled into the kitchen. To everyone else, he appeared nonchalant. His face was amiable, for Ares at least, his gait long and lazy like a cat, but Dita could see the tension in his shoulders, the downward curve at the corners of his mouth, and was glad the whole ordeal wasn’t any easier for him. Every cell in her body was focused on him, and she knew the same to be true for him.
Artemis moved into Dita’s line of vision in short, blue robes and calf-skin sandals. Her black hair was twisted up and spilling out of her silver diadem adorned with an opal moon flanked by topaz stars. Her cheeks were pink against her creamy, white skin, and her lips flickered with a sardonic smile as she laid her bowl of Cheerios on the table and sat across from Dita.
“Aphrodite,” she said with a nod.
“Artemis.”
Perry shook her head with her eyes on Artemis’ bowl. “If you’re so intent on keeping the old ways, why aren’t you eating curds or something?”
Artemis shrugged. “I like Cheerios.”
Dita felt Ares across the room and tried to keep her focus on Artemis through eye contact. She got lost for a minute in the goddess of hunt’s eyes, so big and blue, lined with long, black lashes, so deep and dark that they were like pools sparkling in the moonlight.
It’s a little early in the day to be waxing poetic, Dita, she told herself as she tried to shake off the nerves that flittered around her stomach. She laid on a cocky smile that she didn’t feel.
“So, Artemis, have you already chosen your player? Not that it matters, since you’re probably going to lose.” Dita glanced at her nails.
Artemis’ eyes narrowed. “I have chosen, and I will not lose.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that. I’ve got nothing but time to spend whooping your ass,” Dita said with mock drama.
Artemis rolled her eyes. “Gods, Aphrodite. Might I eat breakfast before you start acting like a child?”
Dita threaded her fingers under her chin and smiled. “Okay, but eat fast.”
Artemis shoveled cereal into her mouth, scowling around her spoon.
The second the conversation died, her bravado seeped out like a leaky tire. Her eyes found Ares again where he stood at the bar over a plate of hash browns. His palms pressed against the granite, and his eyes were almost hidden in the shadow of his brow, but they were on her. The feeling was so strong, he could have been touching her.
She realized she was holding her breath and breathed deep as she forced herself to look back across the table at Artemis.
“So, what’s your player like?” Dita asked.
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“Soon enough you will know.” Artemis took another bite of cereal.
“Aww, come on. Not even a teeny tiny hint?”
Artemis rolled her eyes. “You have enough of an advantage as it is.”
Dita’s cheer was gone instantly, however fake it had been. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Artemis set her spoon down and leaned forward, raising a black eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”
“As a heart attack.” Dita leaned forward in answer.
Artemis chuckled with a condescending shake of her head. “You have an unfair advantage. It is practically impossible to stop a love match. This competition is, by its very nature, unbalanced. Very little skill is required for you to win.”
Dita’s ears were hot, her cheeks warm.“Bullshit. You think this is easy?” she asked, her tone sharp. “I’ll admit that a love match is hard to stop, but I have an extremely tight time limit.”
“Four weeks is ample time for you to make a match.”
“Not with the damaged humans you guys always choose. I mean, last round, both players almost died. Winning takes wit and planning. I have to constantly adapt and detour to get the humans to each other. It’s not like I’m sitting around painting my nails and eating chocolates and … and … I don’t know, what the fuck do you think I do all day?”
“I care very little.” Artemis shrugged.
Dita’s teeth ground together as she glared across the table. “It does take skill, and I don't have an advantage," she said a little louder than she meant to.
“You are set up to win, and we are set up to fail. The game is rigged.”
“It is not!” Dita slapped the table.
A hush fell over the kitchen, but Artemis only smiled.
Dita pushed her chair back and stood, her eyes never leaving Artemis. “Let’s go. You and me. Right now. Fuck your Cheerios.” She turned on her heel and blew out of the room.
The Olympians abandoned their breakfast for the drama, filing into the theater room behind Dita. She walked past the rows of leather armchairs to stand in front of the screen with her jaw clenched and lips pursed.
Perry stopped next to her. “Breathe.”
She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. “I am breathing, dammit.”
“Okay. Choke, hag. Better?”
“Actually, yes. Thank you.” Ares was all but forgotten. Dita’s thoughts were obsessing over Artemis’ words.
‘You have an unfair advantage,’ she said to herself in a mocking voice. The fucking nerve.
Artemis made her way in with her chin high and a smirk on her face, and Dita resisted the urge to permanently banish it. Artemis stopped at the far end of the room with the remote, pointing at the humongous screen as Hermes attempted to thread his way through the crowd to reach her. His face screwed up with agitation when she turned on the screen, not waiting on him to announce the start of the game.
The screen lit up with the image of a woman wearing a look of solid determination as she drove into an alley in New Jersey. Her long, red hair was tied up in a tight, high ponytail, and her big, brown eyes were trained on the road in front of her.
Dita recognized her and smiled, catching herself before she laughed out loud. Her plan clicked into place as she realized just how easy winning would be.
“I would like to introduce you all to Josie Campbell,” Artemis said, and the screen jumped into motion.
———— New York ————
Josie pulled into an alley in New Jersey late that morning and stopped just down from the bail jumper’s house. Everything was slick and shining from the rain, the sky gray and heavy as she grabbed her cuffs from the passenger seat and stuffed them in her back pocket. She reached into her brown leather jacket and touched the handle of her gun for comfort, though she was sure she wouldn’t have to use it. It was only Chester.
Chester was a repeat offender whose favorite pastime was committing acts of indecent exposure. The old man had been nabbed more than a dozen times for exposing himself in public, from malls to movie theaters and everywhere in between. Once he flashed a woman in the produce department of a grocery store and delivered a choice joke about cucumber and melons along with lewd hip gestures, for illustrative purposes. He always got out on bail and never showed up when his court date hit the calendar, at which point his bondsman would call one of the private investigators on their list.
That was where she came in. Chasing skips was the bread and butter of any private investigation firm, and hers was no exception. It wasn't the first time she'd been called to bring the old man in for skipping bail, and she was certain it wouldn't be the last.
The rain hit the pavement in soft pats as Josie slipped through the short gate of the chain link fence around Chester's back yard, stepping around tires, beer cans, and tools to make her way up to the back door. She skipped the first step up to the patio. That one always squeaked like crazy.
Josie pressed herself up against the wall next to the screen door and closed her eyes, listening for any sign of him.
Nothing.
He was either asleep, or he wasn’t there. She made her way around the house to his bedroom window and peered in. The breeze pushed the curtains away, and she saw his rumpled, empty bed. Her lips pinched together as she moved to the living room window, then bent into a frown when she didn’t find him on the couch, either.
Josie cursed as she hurried to her car, ducking her head against the drizzle. She should have known he wouldn’t be there. He was well acquainted with how the system worked, though she figured she'd be irresponsible not to at least check to see if he was home. But Chester wouldn't wait around for someone to come pick him up. Instead, he’d find some dive to get drunk in until someone found him and dragged his ass in.
She fired her engine and thought about where he could be, cycling through his favorite haunts. It had been a while since she’d found him at The Grand Duke, and her gut told her to start there.
———— Olympus ————
Dita marched across the theater room with all eyes on her. When she reached Artemis, she held out her hand for the remote.
Artemis laid it in her waiting palm, looking all too proud of herself.
Dita’s eyes were narrow, but she was practically giddy. Artemis was too easy to provoke for the plan not to work. “Since you’re so keen on talking shit, since you think all of this is so easy for me, why don’t we up the stakes? For my player, I’ll choose the one man to match Josie with who she despises more than just about anyone. Her ex who left her without a word, who dumped her and broke her heart into a million pieces. Would that make it fair enough for you?”
Artemis laughed with a shake of her head. “Impossible. Josie will never fall in love with him, not again. Not after what he did to her.”
How little you know. “So is that a yes, Artemis?”
“Yes, this is fair. I accept.” Artemis looked so very sure of herself, though Dita was certain she didn’t look any less confident.
“Not that I need your permission. This is just to prove to you that I can play this game on your terms and still beat you. And when I get your token from you, you’re going to eat a big, fat slice of humble pie. Deal?”
Artemis smirked. “Deal.”
Dita pointed the remote at the screen, and the image switched to a tall, well-built man with dark hair that curled against the collar of his leather jacket. He was stepping out of his Jeep, and Artemis’ eyes went wide when she saw where he was.
“And now," Dita said to the crowd, "I have the pleasure to introduce you to Jon Landreaux.”
She hit play.
———— New York ————
Jon closed the door to his Wrangler and made his way across the parking lot to the entrance to The Grand Duke, a dirty dive bar where he hoped he’d find the bail jumper he was after. He'd gotten the call only a few minutes before, but he knew Chester's habits well enough. The Duke was one of Chester’s favorite pubs, and the cl
osest to where Jon was when he got the call to pick the flasher up. He was sure he wouldn’t find Chester there, but it was a start.
He pulled the door open, and the sad, haggard faces of the men at the bar turned to the light. Jon stepped in and shook the rain off his jacket as he scanned the room, but he didn’t find the face he was looking for.
A heavy-set, middle-aged woman gave him a half-hearted smile. Her hair was an electric shade of color that fell somewhere between red and orange, and her eyeshadow was a similar density of blue. “What can I get for you, honey?”
He glanced at the door, his gut telling him to wait a few before he took off to the next spot to check. The clock on the wall read eleven. It’s five o’clock somewhere. “What do you have in bottles?”
“Plenty.”
“How about Stella?”
She glanced down at the bin in front of her. “Don’t have it.”
“Okay, how about Heineken?”
“Nope.”
He leaned over the bar and looked in the ice bin of beers where he found Bud Light, Budweiser, and Miller. Light.
“Well, that certainly is a mighty wide selection you have there.”
“We do what we can, sweetie.”
The door to the bar swung open, their faces turned to where Chester staggered in the doorway, dirty and wrinkled, his gray beard gnarled and cheeks red.
Jon's lips pulled into a lazy smile. “Well, how about that. Looks like you had what I was lookin’ for after all.”
Chester’s eyes passed over the room, landed on Jon, then flew open. He turned and ran, and the door slowly closed on its own behind him.
Jon shook his head. “They always do that, though I can’t figure out why.” He turned to the bartender. “Thanks, anyway, ma’am.” He tipped an imaginary hat at her and took off after Chester.
Josie parked in the Duke's lot with her adrenaline running. Chester was there. She could feel it. As soon as she stepped out of her car, she saw him stumble around the side of the building and shuffle toward the entrance. She froze, hoping she could wait for him to get inside where he couldn’t run as far. Her eyes never left him as he pulled the door open and walked in.