Hearts and Arrows Box Set Page 15

  “And how are you feeling about Travis?”

  “God, that’s the worst.” She shook her head. “He’s not my forever guy. I guess I’ve known that deep down, but I care about him, Kara. I just didn’t want him to get hurt, but that seems like it’s pretty much impossible at this point.”

  “Okay. What kind of outcome are you looking for here?” Kara said.

  “Well, in my dreams, Dean sweeps me off my feet and we ride off into the sunset together. In my nightmare, he’s a sleazebag, and I bail as soon as I can. It could be any situation. I have absolutely no idea what I’m walking into.” She slumped with her arms on her knees.

  “I think it’s important to note that you just said that in your nightmare, he’s a jerk.” Kara looked over Lex and shook her head. “Lex, you’re kind of freaking out, and it’s freaking me out.”

  Lex tilted her head, confused.

  “You’re smitten. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such a state of emotional disarray.” Kara gave her a sideways smile.

  Lex rolled her eyes and sighed. “I know, and what the fuck? Could it be with a more inappropriate guy?”

  Kara laughed. “Actually, Lex, no. It could not.”

  Roe leaned into the corner of Dean’s low-backed, gray couch with his lips pinched together, trying to shut down the smirk that threatened to fight its way out onto his face. He was a terrible poker player, and he knew it.

  “Hey, so, uh, let’s hang on Saturday,” Roe said.

  Dean’s head shot up, and his hand stilled mid-air as he placed a Muddy Waters record on the deck of his record player. His mouth opened, and his eyes went wide for a split second before he caught himself, replacing the look with one of mild interest.

  “Ah, I’ve got plans.” He set the record down and placed the needle on it, and a bluesy guitar riff flowed out of the speakers.

  “Plans, huh? You don’t want to go out?”

  “No.” Dean sat in an armchair, tense and guarded.

  “Really? I mean, have you been with anyone since Jenny?”

  “No.”

  “That’s got to be some sort of record for you.”

  “Funny.”

  “So, who are your big plans with?

  “Someone.”

  “Someone, like the someone that you’ve been watching like a stalker at practice, who just happens to be dating our drummer?” Roe tried to look accusing, and judging by the look on Dean’s face, he thought it might actually be working.

  “Who told you?”

  “No one had to tell me, Dean. It’s pretty obvious.”

  Dean slumped into the armchair, and his hand moved through his hair. “Give me a break, Roe. This is kind of a big deal.”

  “Oh, I realize that.”

  “Are you going to try to stop me?”

  “Depends.” Roe shuffled in his seat like he was bored and picked a piece of lint off the front of his shirt.

  “On … ?”

  “How this conversation goes down.”

  Dean’s pointed stare softened marginally. “All right, let’s hear it.”

  “What are your intentions?”

  “Jesus, what are you, her dad?”

  “No, but I do seem to be the only one who’s interested in keeping the band together.”

  “Roe, I don’t know. I have no idea how to do this. I’m kind of flying blind here.”

  “Okay, more specifically, since you can’t take a hint, are you going to one-and-done her?”

  “That’s not my plan,” Dean said.

  “And what is your plan? Dude, you are so much work.”

  “I asked her to spend the day with me to see what happens. We can’t get more than five minutes together to talk, and I want to talk to her.”

  “Well, if you decide to go after her, you’d sure as hell better have a plan in place to keep the band from imploding.”

  Dean let out a breath and sat back in his chair. “Thanks for not pushing this, because I didn’t want to fight you on it.”

  “But you would have?”

  “Yeah, I would have.”

  Roe raised an eyebrow at Dean’s confession and ran his hand over his mouth. He knew Dean was into Lex in a way he hadn’t seen before, which was why he’d already decided not to press it, but Dean’s compliance was surprising, even if Roe did have to drag the information out of him. “Well, I hope it rounds out like you want it to.”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Hang on, why the change of heart? After all the flack, why are you all of a sudden cool with this?”

  Roe shrugged. “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 are you an expert?”

  “I’ve got skills like you’ve never seen, son.”

  ———— Olympus ————

  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 tanned, built body as his feet flew, his arms pumped, and his mind raced.

  He had one move to play: the prophecy.

  The plan to implement was already laid out and ready to deploy. The real question was when to use it.

  He only had one bullet, one shot, and if he got trigger happy, he could ruin everything. If he dropped the prophecy on Lex too soon, it wouldn’t have as much impact as it would if he waited. The stronger her feelings were for Dean, the harder she would take the news that he wouldn’t be faithful to her. Although, 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, then clicked the treadmill up faster and ran 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. There was a good chance that her feelings would still be fragile enough 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 was a huge risk, high reward. He had everything to lose, but he would get Daphne in the end. 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 never left him. 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 from 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, and pulled her hair over her shoulder. Perry pulled the gold ribbons tight and tied a bow.

  “I 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 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 he
ld 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 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, 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 my gods, I know. They looked like freaky alien babies with horned hats on. So bizarre.”

  “Oh,” Perry said, “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 doesn’t see what’s going on with the two of them.”

  “You doubt my work? I’ve got him blurred, hard. He’s always 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.”

  “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.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about the day you gave me your blessing. When you gave me Adonis to have in my dreams.”

  “Dita … ”

  “I know, I know. I don’t need to thank you, and I know we’ve gone over it for thousands of years, but it makes me feel better to say it every once in a while.”

  Perry’s eyes went soft as she silently watched Dita in the mirror.

  “After everything that we went through, I couldn’t imagine that you would have given him to me. After all the pain I caused you …”

  “Dita, don’t.” Perry reached for Dita’s hand as she remembered back. In some ways, she was very 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 bounced as she marched into the wide hall, her footfalls echoing against the stone, cold even amongst flames. The gold chain Hephaestus made to protect her through her trials 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 behind them.

  Hades sat tall on his throne, his cool, blue eyes following her as she entered the room. He laid his hand on Persephone’s, her lip 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 when Persephone turned her wounded gaze to him, he sat back down and watched Aphrodite with yearning.

  She stopped at the base of the black marble steps that led to the thrones with narrow eyes, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. 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’ blessing that she was able to live long enough to bear Adonis. You were responsible for her death.”

  Adonis’ anguished eyes bounced between the two fuming goddesses. His mother’s death was no secret, 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, Persephone. My patience has been exhausted, and I will no longer hide as if I am ashamed, as if I could not have him. Release Adonis. He does not want you, not as he wants me. And yet, 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. Aphrodite rolled her over and pinned 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’ arms. She sank into them, sobbing quietly.

  Persephone screamed, flailing in Hades’ arms. Her teeth gnashed, and her long hair caught her bleeding lips as she strained against his grip. Hades bent his head down, his face soft as he whispered 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 we are.” He turned to Persephone. “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’ 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, whose face was torn between love for Aphrodite as he held her close and pain as he watched the only mother he had ever known come unraveled in Hades arms. “He cares for you as well, Persephone, perhaps equally. I have a solution.” He looked down his nose at them all. “Adonis will sp
end 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.”

  And with that, he 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.”

  “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 with a dramatic swoop of her hand, “naught shall keep us apart, not man nor beast nor spoiled man-child.”

  Dita laughed. “The Renaissance was so dramatic.”

  Perry scooped her into a hug. “I love you.”

  “I know. I love you too.”

  Day 11

  THE EARLY MORNING SUN BEAMED in through the window, bathing Kara’s living room in soft light. She was stretched out on her couch, cup of coffee in hand, musing about Lex. Unreal that Lex would find someone she was willing to take a leap of faith for, especially given that, by all appearances at least, he 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, Eggo. My favorite.”

  Roe leaned down and gave her a soft kiss, then sat and pulled her feet into his lap, resting his hands on her legs as she dug in.

  The night at the Crow Bar, Lex and Travis left early, since Lex had to work the next morning, or so she said. Kevin and Dean disappeared shortly after, and only she and Roe were left. From there … well, the rest just sort of fell into place.

  They’d been carrying on in secret ever since. They’d talked through the whole Lex and Dean situation, but it had taken some convincing to get Roe on board entirely. Even at that point, and even though he was playing along, she couldn’t help but get the feeling that he didn’t quite get it. He recognized that Dean hadn’t been himself, and believed Kara when she explained Travis and Lex’s relationship, but she wasn’t sure he really saw the value in getting them together. It seemed that Roe saw it first and foremost as a potential problem for the band, and only after that came everyone’s feelings on the situation.