Electric Idol (Dark Olympus #2)(36)
“And for your favor?”
“I’ll figure it out later. Just tell me what you need.”
Giving open-ended favors isn’t exactly my style, but I highly doubt Helen will decide to use it against me. Beyond that, if she were in trouble, I might bullshit a little but we both know I’d help. “I need the contact information for that clothing designer in the lower city you like to use. The one who pisses my mother off.”
“Juliette. Sure. I’ll text you her number.” My phone beeps a second later with the text in question. “That was boring. What’s the second thing?”
Best not to beat around the bush. “I need you and Eris to stand as witnesses at my wedding. Tonight.”
She’s silent for so long, I have to resist the urge to check to see if the call dropped. It hasn’t. Helen just needs time to process. When she finally draws in a long breath, I brace myself. She doesn’t disappoint. “Eros, I say this with all the love in my withered heart, but are you out of your fucking mind? Dating her is one thing. Marrying her? Your mother is going to stroke out. Gods, my brother is going to stroke out, too. And likely Demeter. You’re going to take out three of the Thirteen in a single act. It’s brilliantly ruthless but reckless in the extreme, and you’re not reckless.”
Not usually, but then there’s nothing usual about this situation. “Will you do it or not?”
“I’ll do it.” She doesn’t even hesitate. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I’ll do it. Eris will, too.”
I don’t bother to ask her to confirm. If there’s one thing Eris can be guaranteed to do, it’s show up when there’s chaos in the wind. A wedding between me and Psyche is the very definition of sowing chaos. “We’re doing it at my place tonight at seven.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Helen… Thanks. For showing up. For not asking too many uncomfortable questions. For all of it.”
She huffs. “It’s really sad that you’re even a little surprised that I would, but I can’t exactly blame you. This is Olympus, after all.”
“Yeah.” The rules are different here, at least for the circles we move in. Having a person you trust enough to ask for a favor is the most valuable thing in the world—and about as rare as the Golden Fleece of legend.
We hang up quickly after that, and I glance at the clock and then the front door to Psyche’s building. She’s taking her sweet time, but I have one more call to make before I go hunt her down. This one goes even quicker. Apparently Helen sent Juliette a text right after she sent me one, so the designer is expecting my call.
I explain what I need and give her Psyche’s measurements. She mutters to herself for a few minutes, and I can hear her flipping through hangers on the other side of the line. “I have several items that might suit. You’ll have to come to me, though. I don’t give a fuck who your mother is—that’s a mark against you, to be perfectly honest—or if the bride is one of my clients from time to time. I’m not crossing over into the upper city.”
I silently curse, but I should have expected this. My mother helped drive Juliette out of the upper city. I can’t remember why, only that it was one of the rare cases where she handled things herself instead of having me do it for her. Not that it matters. Aphrodite’s feuds can be as petty as they are long-reaching. At best guess, the designer either refused to work with her or clothed a rival better than Aphrodite for some event.
Then again, this might be something of a blessing in disguise. Psyche is infinitely safer in the lower city than she is in the upper city right now. From there, we’ll go right back to my place, get married, and remove the target from her back once and for all.
I inject as much charm into my voice as possible. “How soon can we show up?”
“Give me an hour to make some adjustments, and then I’ll need another hour to ensure whichever one she picks is fitted properly.” She gives me the address of her place. “Be prepared to pay for disrupting my plans for the day.”
“Of course.”
She hangs up just as I catch sight of Psyche hauling two suitcases out the door. I climb out of the car and hurry to her side. “Packing light, I see.”
“You’re the one determined to move me in with you. This is barely half of what I need to survive.” She follows me to the car and watches me wedge one suitcase into the trunk and the other into the back seat. “We need to leave. Persephone texted letting me know that her brunch with our mother is finished.”
I hold the door open for her, ignoring the strange look she gives me, and then walk around to the driver’s seat. “Call her back.”
“Persephone? Why?”
“We need an invitation to the lower city, and we need it now.”
12
Psyche
I don’t know how Eros got Juliette’s information, but an hour later, we’re driving onto one of the three bridges in Olympus to meet her. Each of them have a particular feel, and Cypress Bridge calls back to our Greek roots. There are tall pillars lining it, and in the light of the late morning, they give the impression of crossing into another world.
My ears pop as we cross the River Styx, but that’s as uncomfortable as things get, thanks to Persephone’s invitation. Without it, moving from the upper city to the lower city isn’t impossible, but it’s significantly more uncomfortable. Or that’s what everyone says. I’ve never tried it myself. The few times I’ve visited my sister in her new home, I’ve been welcomed.