From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(26)
“Lethe…” she breathed, her hand covering her mouth.
“Yes. He has forgotten everything.” Artemis glanced into the black pool of water. “You still have Aphrodite’s mirror. May I ask if you still watch Narcissus in Asphodel?”
Echo bit her lip and nodded.
“Often?”
She shook her head.
Artemis felt the weight of Echo’s curse, mourned the life the nymph could have had, felt the grief over all she’d lost, but she pushed the thought away, finding resolve. Echo had loved so much that she lost everything, which was exactly the reason Artemis was convinced that love was more cruel than kind.
“Aphrodite has only just lost her love. I thought that perhaps you might give the mirror back.”
“Give the mirror back?” There was fear in her words, and Artemis wished she could offer the comfort of touch.
Instead, she trailed her fingers in the water of the pool. “Aphrodite has given you Narcissus for all these years. I only ask that you consider returning the favor.”
Echo looked back to the pool for a long moment, finally nodding with her eyes on her reflection. She rose and floated back through to the main chamber, and Artemis followed. When they reached her shelves, Echo stopped in front of the mirror. Artemis could barely see her in the brightness of the main cave, only a shimmer, the occasional ripple that revealed the features of her face as it bent in sadness.
The nymph picked up the gilded hand mirror, and the glass glimmered in a wave. Narcissus was there, walking through Asphodel in the sunshine. He bent and picked a poppy, smiling brilliantly.
Echo laid the mirror to her chest and turned to face Artemis, dropping into a small bow.
Bisoux’s leg thumped when Dita dragged the brush over his rump, wondering what she was going to do next.
She’d painted her nails, organized her underwear drawer, rearranged her living room, and put on makeup, which was something she only did for occasions. She’d been alone all morning, and she was bordering on stir-crazy.
Dita considered napping but ultimately decided against it. Her sleep the night before had been restless, empty and vague, and she was tired, but she’d take tired over fitful sleep that left her hollow when she woke.
Elysium had been her home in her dreams for thousands of years, and Adonis, her confidant, her love. But that was all gone, and she could never have it back. The loss left her feeling abandoned and exposed, and loneliness plagued her. She missed the solace in his touch, his arms around her, his lips against hers.
But she would never have that again.
The bad had been all but forgotten, and in her mourning, she found herself only thinking of the good.
Dita knew her craving for touch would get to the point that it was undeniable, and she contemplated finding a human lover—or better, a string of lovers. The idea was infinitely appealing. She wanted something easy, something that didn’t require thought, just to be held for a moment.
But that had always been her solution. Something had to change, and that something was her. To ever heal, truly heal, she needed solitude.
Her chest ached, and she turned her wandering thoughts to Jon and Josie. Their first meeting hadn’t been terrible, but there was nothing on the horizon until they ran into each other again. She’d gotten Jon to The Duke and fudged the books at Jerry J’s, so they’d call both bounty hunters in, but she wasn’t sure what was next or what Artemis had in store for the humans.
What Dita needed was a plan.
She bit her lip as she put Bisoux’s brush down and ran her hand down his silky back. Josie wasn’t over Jon, not even close, but she was as stubborn and solitary as Artemis. No one got in, not after everything she had been through. Bisoux hopped off her lap and trotted to his red velvet floor pillow to pick up a squeaky toy in the shape of a Fury. He gnawed on its wings as Dita looked around the room for something to do, but her meandering thoughts drifted back to Adonis.
His smile was clear in the picture of her mind, and she could hear his laugh, thinking of the long hours they’d lazed in the meadow under the olive tree, and her heart ached and thumped and pumped and bled.
But she drew in a breath and stopped herself.
She needed a distraction and decided it had been long enough that she could bother Perry again. The day before had been filled with the two goddesses consuming all the movies and pizza they could handle on top of a stupid amount of cupcakes and all the avoidance she could muster. They had gotten rolling the minute the competition started, and she’d kept Dita distracted to the point that she was so exhausted, she fell into bed and slept like she was dead.
Guilt chewed at her heart when she considered how much of Perry’s time she’d been occupying for the last two weeks—meaning all her time—but she needed that distraction so badly. She wasn’t sure if she could function without it, not without losing her mind. And she didn’t feel right leaning on anyone else in the way she leaned on Perry. Dita had other friends, of course, but there was no one else she’d burden with her bullshit.
The only other person who she could seriously consider was Heff. He would be there for her, but she couldn’t talk to him about Ares or Adonis. It hurt too badly to see the pain behind his bright eyes, and she didn’t want to be the cause of it. She had Apollo too, but they weren’t at the level where she could really bare her heart and soul.
She wouldn’t trust anyone like that besides her best friend.