Aphrodite (21 page)

“Persephone had two of the most powerful gods in creation protecting her until she came into her powers, and has the entire pantheon backing her now. Ares has had centuries to build up power, wealth, and anything else he’ll ever need. Don’t let them set your moral compass. They have the advantage. Of course, they don’t want you to feel good about taking that from them.”

I frowned. “They’re not—”

“They’re using you, Aphrodite. Poseidon treated you like a thing, something disposable, something he could use until you forced him to see you otherwise. Just like Zeus, just like the others. They’re all still using you. Why else would they send the newest god with the most limited powers to investigate, when they didn’t even know what they were up against?”

“I volunteered,” I reminded him. “Charm is kind of my thing, so it made sense. The second this got bigger than I could handle, the rest of them stepped in. They’re all out there, Adonis.” I motioned toward the door. “Trying to get to the bottom of this while we’re shielded and safe.”

Adonis drew in a deep breath. “I’m just saying, you shouldn’t feel bad about what you did to Poseidon. Look, if you were even half as selfish as you think you are, would you still be here? You could have left the second Persephone got here. Why didn’t you?”

Because I can’t leave you.
I chose another truth instead. “Because of all the terrible things I’ve done. I can’t—If I don’t do something to balance it—I—” I struggled for words. “I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and not feel guilty for every horrible thing I’ve ever done. I want to be able to sleep without . . .” I waved my hand in the general direction of the bedroom, though he probably couldn’t see the gesture. “I want to do more than survive, even if it kills me. I wasn’t supposed to have much of a life, Adonis, so I want to be able to feel good about what I do with mine.”

Adonis touched my hand, then felt his way up to my shoulder to give me a comforting squeeze.

I leaned into his touch. “I need you to promise me something.”

“My promises don’t hold as much weight as yours.”

“Then it means more when you keep them.”

He hesitated for a second. “What do you need?”

“If something gets in here, something that can charm, I need you to knock me out again.”

Adonis shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Adonis, I’m not strong enough to resist charm right now. I don’t want to be used to hurt anyone.”

“You also can’t heal,” he argued. “I know your perspective on this may be skewed, but being hit hard enough to lose consciousness is actually kind of a big deal.”

“I don’t care! I’d rather die than feel like that again. You don’t understand. You’ve never been charmed, but it’s—”

“I am not going to hurt you.” He grabbed my hands and met my eyes, starlight glittering in his. “I can’t. Don’t ask me to, please. But maybe there’s another way. Charm takes eye contact, right?” Adonis spread his hands to indicate the darkness. “You don’t have to make that easy.”

Something in his voice made me tilt my head to study his silhouette. “What are you thinking?”

He grinned, his teeth glittering in pinpricks of light. “Practice not getting charmed? We could play a game to pass the time until the others get back. If I can charm you, my point. If you block it, yours.” He shrugged. “First to seven points wins the game?”

If only it were that easy. Unlike demigods, full-blooded deities could blanket an area with power. Eye contact just made charm easier and strengthened control. Still . . . I needed to do
something,
however useless. My heart still pounded in my chest from my adventure on the balcony, and every time a strong wave hit the boat, I froze in fear until I felt sure the boat wouldn’t tilt again. If I continued to just sit here, I’d go crazy. And given how tense Adonis sounded, he needed to think about something else, too. The guy didn’t even like being confined in an elevator. “What would I win?”

Adonis grinned. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you. Victor’s choice?”

I could find ways to make that fun. I pushed off the couch and moved away from him. “Ready . . . set . . .”

“Go!” Adonis looked toward me. “Clap three times.”

When I didn’t clap, he swore. “Too dark.” He stumbled over the edge of the couch, closing the gap between us. “Clap three times.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Two-nothing.” I squinted, trying to make out Adonis, but I couldn’t see his silhouette. Where did he—

“Boo,” Adonis whispered in my ear, and I yelped in surprise, spinning to face him. “Clap three times.”

I clapped.

“One-two.” His teeth flashed in a triumphant grin. “Clap three—”

I took off, tripping and scrambling over the furniture to get deeper into the suite. He’d have to find me to charm me. He managed to grab the collar of Ares’s jacket, but I slipped my arms free and kept on.

“Three-one.” Picking my way through the room in complete darkness was a challenge, but judging by the crashing and thuds behind me, I was navigating the obstacles better than Adonis.

There
. I ducked into a nook under the staircase and tried to stay still and quiet.

He stumbled around for a few seconds, then a piercing light swept the room. His phone blazed in his hand. Cheater. I closed my eyes when the light came close.

White, molten light shone through my eyelids. “Clap three times.”

I smiled. “Four to one.”

He wasn’t touching me, but he stood so close, I could almost feel him. My back brushed against the wall. “Cornered. I think you just lost.”

I opened my eyes. Faking right, I sprang left and stepped right into the suitcase I’d stashed under the stairs. “Crap!” The bag slid out from under me and I slammed sideways into Adonis, knocking him off balance and sending us both crashing on to the carpet with a
thunk
.

“Ouch,” he groaned, rubbing his head. “Are you okay?”

“Five-one.”

His eyes glittered in challenge. “Clap—”

I straddled him, covering his eyes with my hands. “Six.”

He wrapped his hands around my upper arms and yanked me off balance. I yelped, finding myself nose to nose with him, my hands sliding on the carpet behind his head to stabilize myself. “Clap—”

I touched my mouth to his, the motion featherlight. With a flick of my tongue, I opened his lips under mine. Adonis froze, hesitating for half a second, then kissed me back with ardor. His hands flattened on my back, pressing me against him. “Not fair,” he groaned.

“Seven.” I laughed, reveling in the knowledge I’d put heat in his voice. My reality might be breaking down, my powers fading, my charm gone, but this? This, I could still control. And I needed control right now. I propped myself up on his chest, grinning at him. “Face it, you’ve lost.”

“Funny, it doesn’t feel like it.” He leaned up, his mouth capturing mine. His fingers knotted in my hair, and he eased back down to the ground, taking me with him.

We breathed each other in as the kiss deepened. His mouth moved against mine. When his hands slid down my waist, my heart pounded in my chest. His lips on mine felt like a promise I wanted to keep with a terrifying intensity. Without breaking the kiss, I unbuttoned his shirt and allowed him to sit up enough for me to work it down his arms before planting a hand to his bare chest and pushing him back down.

In the darkness, we were little more than shadows, but our hands explored what we couldn’t see. I gasped when his hands slipped beneath my bikini top. “Gods,” I groaned, burying my head in his shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Adonis pulled away, and propped himself up on one arm. “Just . . .” He grabbed his phone, and light flashed in my eyes, searing my vision. I jerked away, holding up my hands to ward off the glow. “Sorry.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me back down to him. “I’m sorry, I just, I had to make sure you weren’t charmed. I had to—”

He stopped when my mouth covered his, his hands rising to cup my face with a tenderness that made my head spin in a whirlwind of emotions. This was more, so much more than fear, or regret, or pain. More than a pleasant physical distraction, more than a way to forget.

“Aphrodite . . . wait,” Adonis’s voice sounded hoarse, but he ignored his own advice, tangling our legs as his lips found mine again and again and again. Each kiss felt deeper, harder, and more desperate. His finger deftly untied the knots holding my bikini together. “I should—”

He sucked in a breath when I slid my hand down the waistband of his jeans. If he told me he didn’t want me because I was a god or any other reason, I’d break. I’d do anything, be anything or anyone he wanted if it meant I wouldn’t lose the way I felt right now. “Please,” I whispered.

He put his hands on my hips and yanked me to him with a groan. I poured all my feelings into the kiss. We were pressed together so tight, I almost couldn’t tell where I stopped and he began, but that wasn’t close enough. Fabric gave way to firm flesh and heavy breathing. And this time, there were no interruptions.

Chapter XXVIII

AT SOME POINT in the night, we made it upstairs to the actual bed. And sometime even later, I let Adonis fall asleep. Sleep had to be the worst weakness we’d given mortals. Their lives were so short already—it seemed a tragedy to waste a third of it slumbering.

I snuck downstairs, drained a bottle of water, and slid back into the bed without disturbing him. He shifted, wrapping his arm around me. We lay with our legs tangled together, bodies pressed close in a way that shouldn’t have felt comfortable, but somehow did. Staring up at the ceiling, I smiled, surprised by how happy I felt. Lying in his arms, with nothing to distract me from the rise and fall of his chest, the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat, and the way his body felt warm against mine, was nice.

As the minutes turned to hours, euphoria faded in favor of more pressing needs. The symptoms started small; minor aches and pains, a small bout of dizziness, some cold sweats, and a thirst that seemed unquenchable. But by the time I made my third trip downstairs by the shaky light of Adonis’s cell phone for yet another bottle of water, my entire body shook with fatigue.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make myself climb those stairs. Trembling, I opened the water bottle and took a sip, determined to relieve my Sahara-dry throat.
That’s a bit better.

My stomach twisted, and a wave of dizziness slammed into me. I stumbled, leaning against the wall and gasping as I waited for the awful feeling to pass.
Ares’s jacket,
I remembered. I wasn’t sure if a token from my home realm would help, but at this point, I’d try anything.

What was wrong with me? Last night, my symptoms had felt dull. Noticeable, but not debilitating.
Definitely not debilitating,
I thought, remembering all my fun with Adonis. No, this level of pain felt new. Whatever was wrong with me was getting worse.

I shuffled through the dark room at a slow, yet painful pace. My lips pressed together as a moan escaped my throat. Every muscle, every joint, every fiber of my being cried out in agony. Somewhere above me, Adonis slept on, unaware, and that pissed me off to no end. I wasn’t sure why I felt angry, much less why I didn’t call out for him. I guess logic and unendurable agony weren’t great bedfellows.

“Gods,” I gasped, leaning against the wall, fumbling with the kind of limp heaviness associated with the very ill, the drunk, or the undead. I sank to the floor and crawled instead. My too-hot skin cracked with each stretch and bend, as if each layer was being tanned, shrunk, then stretched over my bones. Cool leather brushed against my fingertips and I felt an iota of relief. I pulled the jacket to me, not even bothering to crawl the two extra feet to the couch.

I spent the night alternating between freezing and burning as I shook beneath Ares’s jacket, taking small sips from my bottle of water. When I ran out, I didn’t have the energy to get a new one. My head felt full of molten lava, and my veins seemed as if they were filled with granules of sharpened glass. Each heartbeat seemed to slice through my body with a wave of pain.

Delirium. Fragmented thoughts and memories played through my mind as the sun lightened the horizon.

“It’s so cold,” I moaned to Adonis, though the rational bit of my brain
knew
he was upstairs and I was not. What the hell, at least now I had someone to talk to. “How are you not cold?”

Adonis’s gold eyes popped open. “You don’t feel cold at all, you’re—Gods!” He sat up in the bed, his hand brushing my hair from my forehead. “Aphrodite, you’re burning up.”

I couldn’t stop shaking. “Feels like freezing.”

“Well, here.” He pulled the feather duvet back onto the bed and draped the cool fabric around me. “Better?”

Now I felt too hot, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him, so I pulled him to me and kissed him instead. “That’s better.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. His hands cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek as the kiss deepened. For a few minutes, I did feel better.

Then I shifted positions and the friction of the carpet beneath me brought me jerking upright in confusion. I wasn’t on the bed. I was downstairs. “I should fix that,” I murmured. My lips cracked when I spoke. I climbed to my feet, Ares’s jacket sliding to the floor.

Clothing would be good. Persephone and the others would be checking in on us soon. I grabbed the jacket and managed to make my way to the suitcase beneath the stairs.

I blinked at the clothing scattered across the floor in confusion for a few moments before I urged my heavy limbs to cooperate with my efforts to get dressed. Once I pulled on a green dress, I raised the water bottle to my lips. Empty. With a sigh, I lurched to my feet, donned Ares’s jacket, and shuffled toward the kitchen. Now that the sun was up, I could see the suite was a mess. When the boat tilted last night, everything fell. Including my massive stack of papers on the kitchen counter. A manila envelope with Adonis’s name and old room number caught my eye from beneath the fridge.

Rooms, room numbers, empty rooms. Feverishly, I combed through the drawers, searching for Olympian Steele. Wait, no. I closed the drawer, trying to get my bearings. I wasn’t searching the ship. I was in my room. There was nothing to find here.

Dozens of empty rooms. No luggage, no people. Something about the empty rooms stuck with me, so I paused to scrawl myself a note on the manila envelope below Adonis’s name.

There are no other rooms,
Adonis’s voice snapped. Miguel had tried to escort him off the ship because they were at capacity.

“Augh!” I clamped a hand to my forehead, taking measured breaths. I couldn’t . . . think. Gods, my head felt ready to explode. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears, and the thought of blood pumping through my veins was almost too much for my nauseated stomach to bear. A whimper caught in my throat. I felt worse, so much worse. Why did everything hurt so badly?

What was I doing? Why were all these papers on the floor? I spotted our room key and knelt to grab the plastic card. I couldn’t lose mine because Adonis had borrowed my spare. Upstairs, Persephone moved around. I could hear her feet treading on the carpet above.

Wait. No. Persephone wasn’t here. That was Adonis moving around upstairs. My mouth felt as dry as dust. Right, water.
The fridge didn’t feel cold anymore and the light didn’t flip on.
Power’s out,
I remembered, moving to twist the cap the rest the way off the last water bottle.

I paused, hand poised and ready to open the bottle. Did I break the seal or was it already broken? I glanced at the empty water bottles littering the room, struggling to remember.

No, that was just something Adonis always did for me. Something nice and gentlemanly. Good thing, since these stupid plastic ridges hurt my palm.

“Water?”
Adonis had asked, holding out a bottle.
Over and over and over again. Always offering me drinks.

“Okay,” I whispered, bringing the bottle to my lips.

Clarity burst through my feverish delirium before the cool liquid could relieve my parched throat. I backed up into the countertop staring at the water bottle in disbelief. Oh, gods! Something was in the water. My powers hadn’t failed until my first night on the boat.
After
I drank the water. Then, every time I drank another bottle, they got worse. How many bottles had I drunk? My mind flipped through every single time Adonis passed me a water bottle, every single time I’d raided the fridge. The bottle shook in my trembling hand as I studied the water, searching for some trace of. . . . What? What could hurt a god, but leave a demigod unharmed?

A violent shudder wrenched through me, setting my entire body ablaze with pain. I gasped, mopping the sweat off my forehead with my free hand. My body sagged against the counter because I couldn’t support my own weight anymore. I grimaced, clutching my stomach. I was missing something, a piece of this puzzle that would make everything else fall into place. But I couldn’t
think
clearly enough to—

There!
Tiny, almost microscopic, flakes of silvery specks inside the bottle caught the sunlight. What the hell was that? Steele? Impossible. A single scratch could kill me in a matter of heartbeats. Water made it to the human blood stream within five minutes of consumption. I’d have been dead days ago.

“Aphrodite . . .” Adonis stood at the entry of the kitchen. I looked up at him, dread filling the pit of my stomach when I saw the guilt written across his face. “Don’t drink that.”