Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Of course it’s intentional. Everything that woman has done is intentional. Avoiding the search party entirely wouldn’t send the message that she could have come ashore whenever she felt like it. It might actually allow us a moment of peace, which is obviously something Circe will never do. She’s been playing head games from the start. “Where did she go?”
“How the fuck should I know?” A sliver of frustration works into Athena’s voice. “I’m not a tracker, Zeus. She could have cut into the city from here without issue, or skirted the city limits and headed west toward the country. I have no way of knowing.”
“Send the information to Apollo. A camera has to have caught her.”
“I will. Atalanta is taking a team west to see if there’s any evidence they headed in that direction. I’ll work with Apollo and Ares to create a grid for searching the city in this area.”
I don’t bother to point out that her grid search didn’t work particularly well when Ariadne, Icarus, and the Minotaur were on the run. I wanted them alive, and instead, Ariadne and the Minotaur sailed off and now Icarus is under the protection of Poseidon, one of the few people I can’t afford to piss off. As one of the three legacy titles—him, me, and Hades—we hold unprecedented power among the Thirteen. I thought bringing the three of us together in a temporary coup would turn the tide of this siege, but Circe was several steps ahead of us. “Do it.”
I take the elevator up to my floor. My floor. The very idea is absurd. I might have scoured every bit of my father’s love of gaudy gold from this place, but it still feels like I’m trespassing, as if I’ll turn around to find him looming in the doorway, ready to cut me down to size with a few well-chosen words.
A year of holding this position, fighting to make it mine, and I’m no closer to making it happen. I’m going to be the first Zeus in the history of Olympus to see my city fall to invasion. I want to say the thought sits ill because of my concern for my people, but it’s not entirely the truth. They’re not my people. They don’t love me, fear me, or even hate me. They wouldn’t blink if I were to die and be replaced, and that apathy is what I can’t stand. It feels too close to the way my father watched me when I tried and tried and fucking tried to shut my emotions down and smile through my fury and pain. Even when I finally accomplished going cold, it wasn’t good enough because I can’t make people like me. I only make them uncomfortable and hostile.
Fuck.
I have to stop thinking about this. I have Circe and six boats’ worth of people to find. I have a crumbling city to set to rights. I have—
It takes two beats longer than it should for me to register that I’m not alone in my office. I move at the same time the intruder does, going for the gun in my shoulder holster. I don’t normally carry—it would give the wrong impression to enemies and allies alike—but there’s nothing normal about Olympus right now.
I barely manage to get my hand around the grip before they grab my elbow and slam the gun back into the holster. Then they punch me in the stomach. My breath whooshes out, but I manage to keep from doubling over.
Then I get a good look at my attacker. The rage I’ve barely been able to keep contained flares white hot. “Hermes.”
“In the flesh.” She kicks out my knee, and this time, I can’t keep my feet. I topple against my desk, and the bitch steals my gun. She ejects the clip and checks to make sure there’s not a round in the chamber in a practiced move so smooth it’s almost beautiful.
If she weren’t a fucking traitor.
I shove back to my feet. “You have a lot of nerve coming here.”
She tosses the gun away. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.” She looks different than the woman I’ve come to know, at least superficially. Hermes is a short, petite Black woman with dark-brown skin and a penchant for glitter and bright colors. Today, she’s wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, her hair in box braids pulled away from her face. “We could sit here for days and argue which one of us is the true traitor to Olympus, but there’s no time. Circe is in the city.”
“I’m aware.” My knee is a throbbing mass of agony, but I learned how to mask evidence of pain on my face a long time ago. “How do you know? You’ve missed every meeting I’ve called, and you sure as fuck weren’t putting your neck on the line last night out on the water.”