Chapter 26 | The Devil of Siren City

THE GODS MET at noon.

It was a quiet morning in Siren City. Yesterday’s brief excitement was mostly forgotten; the local media called on to sweep the happenstance under the rug.

Centurians gave chase in downtown Olympus today following a brutal break-in on the east side. Police believe a drug deal gone wrong led to an altercation that resulted in the murder of an Olympian man.

The suspect has been apprehended.

Justice will be swift under Olympian law.

It was close enough to the truth to not draw suspicion, but sent a clear message to all who knew better.

Justice would indeed be swift when the time came. And public.

Rebellion would not be tolerated in Olympus.

Hera arrived first. Silently and with care, she set the space. They had not used the meeting room at the top of The Tower in this capacity for quite some time. Hera took great pride in keeping it clean and tidy and ready for immediate use when needed. And she knew deep down that it would be needed once again.

She knew this would happen.

She was no witch. How could anyone other than the fates themselves claim to see the future? But Hera had given away a piece of her heart once, a piece that was supposed to have perished at sea nine months ago.

It didn’t.

So she opened the curtains. She brushed away the dust from the table and placed the chairs just so. She ordered up beverages and a light charcuterie arrangement with meats and fruits and cheeses for their guests. She kept herself busy, her hands and mind always occupied, because if she didn’t, well...

He would creep in again.

Shaking off a chill, Hera caught sight of herself in the table’s reflection. She glared into her lavender eyes for a moment, a remarkable beauty staring back despite near a year without feeling the sun on her skin or the sand between her toes or the sea wind in her hair.

Hera took her seat at the round table as the double doors opened.

Ares marched inside. He dropped a large duffel bag on the bench by the door and greeted her with an incline of the head, his deep red eyepatch burning brighter than usual in the midday sun. He took the furthest seat away from her at the table, his brow stiff. They sat in silence, but not the awkward kind. There just wasn’t anything to say, no truths to speculate on, for they both knew.

They knew.

Aphrodite arrived minutes later with her phone pressed against her ear, looking stylish and perfect and exceedingly annoyed that she had to be there at all. “Yes, of course,” she said as she dropped her handbag onto the table and reached for a grape. “I want the samples on my desk by two o’clock.” She hangs up without another word, her eyes rolling as she glanced at Hera and Ares. “Yet another moron in my midst. Remind me again why I don’t raze the entire Scarlet district to the ground and start over.”

They didn’t reply.

“What?” She popped the grape into her mouth, then turned up her empty hands. “Why the faces?” When they still said nothing, Aphrodite sighed. “Oh, please. Hera, honey. Tell me you don’t believe this nonsense.”

“What nonsense?” Ares asked, his expression hard.

Aphrodite snatched another grape before sitting down. “Hades is dead,” she said, unbothered. “This entire thing has been one giant overreaction.”

Anger touched Ares’ eyes. “You say my son is a liar?”

“I say your son had a bit too much ale and imagined himself a face he shouldn’t have.”

Before they could argue further, the doors opened again. Ares immediately stood, prompting the ladies to do the same.

When Zeus entered a room, everyone stood.

Ares bowed his head. “Sire,” he greeted.

Aphrodite did the same, hoping the shadow of her chin obscured the subtle bob of her throat as she swallowed her words.

Hera smiled, her posture relaxed. She was safe now.

Zeus walked with purpose, angling around the right side of the table toward his chair. He offered no greeting of his own, save for the brief incline of his chin. The usual mask he wore for others was nowhere to be found today. Today, he was among friends.

“Prep the screen, Ares,” he said. “Poseidon is remoting in.”

“That was an option?” Aphrodite murmured as she sat back down.

“Once he’s on, we’ll be underway.” Zeus slowed his stride as he approached Hera’s chair. He extended his hand to her, touching her shoulder with a gentle caress that sent pleasant shivers down her back.

Ares was already in motion, and before Zeus could take his seat, he had Poseidon’s image on the screen.

Poseidon flashed a smile of perfect teeth. His sun-kissed skin shimmered with salt-water and sweat. His hair, dark yet playfully sun-bleached, was held in a loose bun at the nape of his neck. He sat at a desk with a row of bright windows behind him, but Poseidon could never stay anchored for very long. Soon he’d be up and about, eager to walk the deck of his yacht again. But for the moment, he sat.

He knew what was at stake.

“Greetings!” Poseidon said.

“Hey, Poseidon,” Aphrodite said. “How are the waves?”

“Would be better without all the rain.” His gaze hopped around the table. “How’s our city?”

“To be determined,” she said, adding, “apparently.”

Ares sat still. “Aphrodite has her doubts,” he said to Zeus.

Poseidon snickered. “Aphrodite doesn’t want to cancel her little party.”

“Aphrodite needs more than hearsay and ghost stories before freaking out,” she said, her ire pointed at the screen. “And a billion dollars exchanges hands on Scarlet Street during my little party, you greasy swab, so yes, I would like to see something concrete before we make any rash decisions.”

“So would I,” Zeus said, turning his chair toward Ares.

Hera said nothing as she looked out the windows.

“We have eye-witnesses,” Ares said.

“We have the word of your son and his drunk friends,” Aphrodite said.

“One of them is now dead,” he said. “Mark was among my men in the alleyway.”

Aphrodite went quiet.

“I’m sorry for his loss,” Poseidon said, “and for the loss of your numbers.”

Ares acknowledged the words with a bow of his head. “We’ve all seen the footage,” he continued. “Hades went to Miller, as expected.”

“A man in a black hoodie went to Miller,” Aphrodite said. “There’s nothing in the footage that proves it was Hades. It could have been his drug dealer. The man was dying.”

“Then why did he fight my men?” Ares countered.

“Did he?” She turned up a hand. “For all me know, your men went rogue and beat the man to death for fun. And we don’t even know what really happened in the alleyway because the incident conveniently occurred out of sight of street cameras.”

Ares took it personally. “My men would never—”

“Unfortunately, anyone who could tell us for sure is dead,” Aphrodite continued on as she reached for a cube of cheddar cheese. “Glare at me all you like, Ares,” she said, not backing down from his furious eyes. “Someone has to ask these questions.”

“She’s right,” Zeus said. “I appreciate your thoroughness, Aphrodite. One of us needs to be skeptical about this matter.”

She inclined her head in thanks before eating her cheese.

“My men chased him into your district,” Ares said, his glare lingering on Aphrodite. “There, he was lost.”

She licked her lips. “So?”

“Hades spent more time on that street than you did,” he said.

“You think someone on my turf took him in?” Aphrodite asked with a furrowed brow.

“I think someone has to ask these questions,” he said through the corner of his mouth.

Aphrodite steamed, but didn’t reply.

“Where’s Apollo?” Poseidon asked in the lull.

Various eyes glanced at the two empty chairs. One was Poseidon’s. The other…

“He declined our invitation,” Aphrodite said after a minute.

Poseidon shook his head. “That’s bullshit. He should be here.”

“You’re welcome to come ashore and pull him out of that church yourself, if you like.”

“Enough,” Ares said. “We don’t have time for squabbles. Apollo made his choice. Meanwhile, something is out there in our city — Hades or not — and it’s in all of our best interests to put an end to it as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed,” Zeus said, prompting a wave of further agreement around the table.

Hera, still, said nothing.

“The arrows,” Zeus said to Ares. “What have you found out?”

“What arrows?” Poseidon asked.

Ares rose from his chair and retrieved the duffel bag from the bench. Setting it down on his chair, he slid the two arrows out and placed them on the table, their tips tainted with dry black blood.

Aphrodite rose and rounded the table to get a closer look.

“We found these in two bodies in the alley,” Ares said, letting her inspect them.

“I thought they were beaten,” she said.

“We kept this detail away from the press.”

She placed a hand on her hip. “And away from me?”

“We’re telling you now,” he simply said.

Annoyed but already over it, she refocused on the arrows, drawing one finger along the light blue ribbons tied to the bottom of each. “That’s not like him,” she mused, the evidence still unconvincing. “Hades preferred knives and fists in his dirty work.”

“He’s not alone.”

Hera shivered. Zeus noticed.

Aphrodite scoffed. “Who would side with him now?”

“Oh, come on,” Poseidon said. “There are plenty in the city who would love to see us go down.”

“Like who?”

“Rackham, for one.”

 Ares shook his head dismissively. “Arrows aren’t his style, either. And he hasn’t been back to the city in months.”

Aphrodite blinked. “Damn.”

Ares looked her over. “What?”

She swallowed hard. “Rackham returned a night ago,” she said. “Candy had dinner with him.”

“Oh.” Poseidon chuckled. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“Did you see his ship?” Ares asked him.

“Nope. And I would have, meaning he did it stealthily.”

Ares stepped toward the window and scanned the horizon with his good eye as he rubbed the edge of his beard. “Hades comes back from the dead and Rackham returns in the same week? That’s no coincidence.”

“What about Hades’ boy?” Poseidon asked. “Has he been compromised already?”

Aphrodite considered it, then shook her head. “No. No, when I told him Hades might be alive, he was scared. Terrified. No, Candy is still very much under our control.”

“You’re sure?” Zeus asked.

“Positive, though…”

“What?” Ares asked.

Aphrodite stood taller in his gaze. “Rackham has put in a request for Candy’s company again. This time on his boat.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Cancel it.”

“It’s his job, Ares,” she said. “And if we’re to continue our business-as-usual policy, the last thing I should do is turn down significant figures who want to pass coin on my street.”

“The Captain has plenty of stock to choose from on your street.”

“Believe me, Ares,” she said, annoyed. “I’ve offered him the best caviar in the city on silver platters. And yet, the man prefers Candy.”

Ares conceded. “Keep a man on him at all times.”

“Already on it.”

“Even with Rackham.”

“That…” Aphrodite’s lips twitched, “might be awkward, but I’m sure I can arrange it if your men have a few voyeuristic itches to scratch.”

Ares walked back to the table, the matter settled. Aphrodite returned to her side, her eyes on another cube of cheese.

“Why now?” Poseidon asked.

“Why what?” Ares asked him.

“Say Hades is alive and wandering around — why now? It’s been nine months.”

They thought about it for a moment.

“Well, if he survived, we did fuck him up,” Aphrodite said. “Wounds like that would take time to heal.”

Poseidon shrugged. “So, what does he want?”

“Vengeance,” Hera said.

All eyes turned toward her.

“Hera,” Zeus said, sensing her words. “Say your piece.”

Hera looked from him to the rest of them, then down. “That’s it. That’s what he wants. We betrayed him, and he knows it. Now, he seeks vengeance.” She looked up then, but her stare didn’t reach anyone’s eyes. It went through them; through the windows and the city she loved toward a bloody future she knew. “Adrian is back and we will all get what we deserve.”

Each of them blanched at the mention of his name. They looked to Zeus for his reaction, for his fury. But he did nothing. He merely stared at his beloved with soft eyes; eyes he held only for her and no one else.

“Excuse me,” Hera murmured as she rose from her chair.

Without another word, she left. She took the elevator up to the penthouse she called home, eager to get out of the bright sunlight.

As she crossed the dark, curtained interior, Hera stripped off her clothing, her dress suddenly feeling far too constrictive. She wrapped her naked body in a silk robe and curled into bed. The sounds of the city, so far below The Tower, echoed all around her like a thousand screaming harpies.

Hera drifted off, but soon he followed.

Zeus stripped off his clothing in the dark, the need to feel her body against his skin overwhelming. He climbed into the bed, his strong arms wrapping around her. He found her hand beneath the covers and squeezed it in his calloused fingers.

Hera held her breath. She knew what was forbidden and what wasn’t. Rebellion was not tolerated in Olympus. No one was exempt. Not even her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, ready for her punishment.

Zeus held her from behind. He shushed her softly. He touched the edge of his foot against hers. Her feet were cold. His were not. “Look at me,” he said.

Hera obeyed. She rolled onto her back and gazed into his face in the dark. Not even the shadows could obscure his handsome, somewhat boyish features and her stomach quivered with butterflies, just like always.

Zeus drew a slow line down her jaw with the tip of his finger. “I won’t let him touch you again,” he said. “Do you hear me?”

Hera nodded. She heard him. She heard him before anyone else did; back when her heart was already promised to another. But she couldn’t resist his voice. His vision. His heart.

Zeus kissed Hera in the dark.

It was time for her punishment.