From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(2)
Perry held her hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine.”
“Okay, this is what we’re going to do,” Dita said with finality as she settled in. “We are going to spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach. Then, we are going to have a last, legitimate Greek meal, during which we will get very, very drunk.”
“I like this plan,” Perry said with a nod.
“Then, and only then, will I face the music. Hopefully Colon Peniston will be off fucking himself and he’ll leave me alone.”
“Operation Ostrich. Head in the sand with your feathered ass in the air.”
“Exactly.”
“Until you get eaten by the lion you don’t see coming. You know, because your head is buried?”
“You’re so morbid,” Dita said dryly.
Perry shrugged. “I’m the Queen of the Underworld. Morbidity comes with the territory.”
They fell into silence, soaking up the final hours before they would go back to reality, back to the game, back to their lives—Perry to Hades and Dita to an empty apartment and an empty heart. And it was all Dita could do to find hope that she would be able to keep herself together enough to survive.
Day 1
DARKNESS PRESSED IN ON her from every direction.
She stumbled with splayed hands, her powers useless. No sound reached her ears, the maddening void sending panic through her, sending a scream climbing up her throat. Her eyes strained against the black, but all she found was a nothingness so heavy, so complete, that it was a living thing, squeezing her until her lungs burned. She dropped to her knees, though they never found the ground as she fell down and down.
Dita shot out of bed with a gasp.
Sweat beaded on her brow, her hair lank. She pressed her hand to her chest, and her heart banged back, as if it were trying to escape.
Nightmares had plagued her ever since Adonis was lost to her and Elysium along with him. When he’d drunk the Lethe, he had forgotten his human life, forgotten her, closing the door forever. The comfort of his arms through the portal of her dreams was gone, replaced with vivid nightmares.
Ares was at the helm of each lucid dream and every waking moment, lurking in the back of her mind, slithering and snaking through her thoughts, leaving no room for peace. The threat of him was a tangible thing. She pictured him over and over, huge and red in his wrath, felt his fingers around her neck as he choked her, heard his voice as he told her he’d never let her go.
Dita touched her neck at the thought as Bisoux pulled himself toward her on his stomach. She took a breath and let it out slowly, but the pressure in her chest stayed where it was.
“Bonjour, mon ami.” She scratched behind his ear.
He leaned into her hand.
Dita lay back down in her warm bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, burying herself in a cocoon of down and Egyptian cotton. She daydreamed about staying there, wistfully wondering how long things would stay the same, if her problems would all just disappear.
But she knew she was at the end of the line when it came to avoidance. Once she left the confines of her sanctuary, it would all be over. The bubble would pop.
She burrowed even deeper in her bed, and Bisoux climbed onto her chest and curled up in a furry ball with eyes. Soft daylight came through the artificial windows that hung on the walls like paintings, an invention that had been waiting for her when she returned from Greece. Heff had known how much she hated living underground with him, but she had been mandated to reside there by Zeus, and that was a fight that wasn’t even worth it.
Dita gazed out the window and tried to motivate herself to get up. The next round of the game would start within hours, and she’d have to face all of Olympus. Part of her wished she’d come back sooner and eased into life instead of prolonging her return to the last possible minute. The fanfare of the beginning of a game was stressful under normal circumstances, but after being absent for weeks in the wake of everything that had happened, all eyes would be on her.
Being in the spotlight wasn’t something that usually bothered her, but she knew for a fact that she was the headline of everyone’s conversations. Who knew what they assumed? Because they assumed plenty, she was sure. Gossip was so much more entertaining than the truth, and even though she hated being the object of negativity, all she could do was hold her head up and face it.
And face it, she would. Everyone would be upstairs, waiting for her. Including Ares.
Anxiety flashed through her, as it did every time he crossed her mind. While she’d been in Greece, she’d thought of him less and less with every day—every night was a different story entirely—and for a second, she’d convinced herself she was coping. Getting over it. But then she would hear something, smell something, see something that reminded her, and her memories would kick her back in time with a jolt.
She knew she’d be a swinging pendulum until the right amount of time passed, but that knowledge didn’t stop her from hoping her heart would somehow heal faster. That she would wake up, and the pain would be behind her. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t even close to being over. She’d stopped crying though, which was something.
In just a little while, she would see Ares in the flesh. She pictured him standing before her with cutting dark eyes and fists clenched at his sides, imagining him reaching for her, invading her space, invading her mind and life and heart.