“Now? Why didn’t you give it to me the second you saw me?”
Hermes rolls her eyes. “Because, Hades, you needed a ride. Priorities, my friend.” Before I can work up an answer to that, she gives herself a shake and Demeter’s voice emerges. “You have the support of myself, Hermes, Dionysus, Athena…and Poseidon.” She leans over and presses a gun into my hand. “Do what you have to do.”
Shock freezes me in place. I can barely draw a breath. “She just named half the Thirteen.” There is a power structure within the Thirteen and most of the major players have thrown their might in with Zeus—Ares, Aphrodite, Apollo. But Poseidon is siding with Demeter? That levels the field considerably. I do a quick count. “We have the majority.”
“Yes, we do. Make sure you don’t waste this chance.” She jerks her chin at the building. “The back door’s unlocked. Your window of opportunity won’t last long.”
I can’t trust her. Not completely. Hermes has vowed to deliver messages as they’re given to her, but that doesn’t mean the originator is required to tell the truth. This could be a trap. I look at the building one last time. If it’s a trap, then it’s a trap. Persephone is in danger, and I can’t turn back now.
If it’s not a trap, then Demeter just all but gave me the green light to go forward with my plan to kill Zeus. She’s clearly signaled her support of it, and she has half the Thirteen behind her.
If I do this, there’s a chance Persephone will never forgive me. I saw her face after I beat Zeus’s man. She was shocked by the violence of it. Committing murder puts me firmly in the monster category with Zeus, no matter how much he deserves a bullet between his eyes.
I take a slow breath. Yes, I might lose her, but at least she’ll be safe.
I’ll happily pay any price to make that happen.
It feels like my life has been moving toward this moment for a very long time. Since the night of the fire. Maybe even before then. For better or worse, this chapter ends today.
I check to make sure the gun is loaded and slip it into the back of my pants. The back door of the building opens easily. I step inside and wait, but no one appears to attack or force me out. If anything, the looming hallways feel deserted. Abandoned. I’m not sure if this is Zeus’s people being sloppy or Demeter clearing the way, but I can’t take this opportunity for granted. I slip down the hallway to the door to the stairs. When I was twenty-one, I researched and planned a full-scale attack on this building—on Zeus. I had blueprints, security cards, and every bit of information I needed to get to Zeus and put a bullet in his brain.
I almost went through with it.
It didn’t matter that it was a suicide mission at the time, that even if I survived, the might of the Thirteen would come down on my head. All I could think of was revenge.
Until Andreas gave me a verbal beating to end all beatings. He forced me to see who would really pay the cost for my recklessness. He forced me to learn patience, no matter how much it killed me to wait.
I thought all that effort and planning wasted. I was wrong.
There’s a service elevator that goes up from the third floor. It doesn’t have the same amount of security as the normal elevators, since the only people who use it are employees who are vetted. I don’t come across anyone as I move silently through Zeus’s territory. Again, I have the feeling that someone cleared the way for me, even if there’s no sign of violence. My tension grows higher and higher with every empty hallway, with every vacant room.
Is the entire building devoid of security?
The top floor is dominated by a modern ballroom of sorts that showcases wall-to-wall windows overlooking a balcony set above Olympus and larger-than-life portraits of the Thirteen on the two walls opposite. The River Styx cuts a dark swath through the city, and I don’t miss the fact that the lights almost seem dimmer on my side of the river. They would to this fucking crowd, wouldn’t they?
They don’t bother to see the value in the history written over every surface in the lower city. Why would they when they’ve systematically purged it from the area around Dodona Tower?
Fools, every single one of them.
I leave the ballroom and walk down the hall. It’s double the width it needs to be, the entire space practically flashing a neon sign announcing Zeus’s net worth. I poke my head in the next door and find a room full of statues. Like the paintings in the ballroom, they’re larger than life, each depicting the sculptor’s version of human perfection. These must be the same ones Persephone mentioned right after she arrived in the lower city. The temptation to walk to mine and pull the sheet from it is almost too much to resist, but it doesn’t matter what this Hades looks like. He sure as hell won’t have my scars, won’t have any of the traits that make me the man I am.
Persephone’s voice echoes through my mind, soft and sure. You’re beautiful to me, Hades. The scars are part of that, part of you. They’re a mark of everything you’ve survived, of how strong you are.
I release a pent-up breath and close the door softly. There’s nothing for me here.
The final door at the end of the hall is a massive thing, designed to intimidate. It stretches nearly floor to ceiling and appears to be coated with actual gold. Holy fuck, Zeus really is unbearable on every level, isn’t he?
Like everything else in this place, it speaks to the ego of this man that he keeps his private office on the same floor where the upper tiers of Olympus come and go with
