Electric Idol (Dark Olympus #2)(88)
“You don’t have the high ground, Mother.” I step forward. I catch sight of Callisto in the hallway leading to our bedrooms, but she makes no move to join the conversation. It’s just as well that she hears this, too; it affects her, after all. “When were you going to tell me that you intended to marry me off to the new Zeus? When you ambushed me at the altar?”
Mother’s too good to show surprise, but her pause speaks volume. “He told you.”
“I’ve been to see him, yes.”
Her gaze sharpens. “Why?”
“We’ll get to why in a moment. Answer the question.”
“I was going to speak with you about it this week, in fact. Negotiations had reached the final stages, and I intended to sit you down and walk you through the reasons why this is an excellent match.” She holds my gaze. “Perseus isn’t his father. I doubt you would have even needed to dispose of him. He’s such a bore that you’re more than capable of handling him.” She flicks a disdainful look at Eros. “Or you would have been if you hadn’t married this one.”
Eros is wearing the same hard look he had when Zeus revealed the marriage plans. I can’t read it at all. It’s as if he’s turned to a pillar of ice. I told him the truth in the car on the way over here; if my mother had come to me with these plans, I would have gone through with them. Her read on Perseus—on Zeus—is the same I have. He may be ruthless in the extreme, but he seems to genuinely care about his siblings, which is more than the old Zeus could say. He didn’t care about anyone but himself. Perseus also has no violence in his past. I know; I looked.
But that doesn’t mean I want one of my remaining single sisters marrying him. “Take the plans off the table.”
“You know better.” Mother shakes her head. “You’ve painted me into a corner with your actions.”
Damn it, that’s what I’m afraid of. I look over her shoulder, but Callisto has disappeared. It’s just as well. The last thing we need is her getting it into her head to shove this Zeus out a window or something equally final. Succession would pass to Helen at that point, and while she seems great, she also seems so young in a number of ways. It would spell disaster for Olympus.
Love or hate the city, the fact remains that the Thirteen keep it running smoothly. Everyone has their roles, their own little slice of the pie. If they were normal people, those slices would be enough, but normal people don’t aspire to be numbered among the Thirteen. No, every single one of them is ambitious and cutthroat and willing to step on others to propel themselves higher. Left to their own devices, they would be going to war with each other inside of a year. No matter what my personal feelings are when it comes to the title of Zeus, the truth is that it requires a formidable personality to keep the others in line.
In another ten years, Helen might be strong enough. She’s not now.
There are days when I’d like to see this city burn to the ground, but ultimately, it’s home. If I want to keep the people of Olympus as relatively safe as they are right now, that means Perseus needs to stay Zeus. No convenient accidents. No outright plans for murder. Not that I was really considering killing him…
As long as he stays the fuck away from Eurydice.
Callisto can take care of herself.
I can’t worry about any of that now. I have to concentrate on surviving Aphrodite’s wrath first. For that, I need my mother. “We’ll discuss potential marriage plans later. Right now, there are more time-sensitive issues.”
“I see.” She sighs. “Come in. Having this conversation in the foyer is déclassé.”
We follow her into the living room, Eros a glaring storm cloud at my back. His energy has changed in the few minutes we’ve been here. If I don’t miss my guess, he’s gone past frozen and straight into icy rage. And it’s all pointed at my mother.
With that in mind, I grab his hand and tug him down onto the couch next to me. I don’t think he’ll harm her, but he’s more than capable of it. There are times when I hate my mother, but she’s still mine and I don’t want her hurt.
I suspect that conflicted feeling is similar to what he feels for Aphrodite.
Mother sinks onto the chair across from us and arranges the skirt of her dress around her, the very picture of a queen in waiting. “Tell me what mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“One could argue you got her into it.” Eros’s voice is hard.
I place my hand on his thigh and tell her. Everything. Oh, I leave out the sex because that’s none of her business, but I walk her through the sequence of events over the last few days that brought us to this place. When I finish, my mother looks a little pale and absolutely furious.
She seems to make an effort to release her death grip on the arms of the chair. “I’ll kill her.”
“You won’t,” I cut in before Eros can. “We don’t want her dead.”
“And you.” She turns hazel eyes, so similar to mine, on him. “Did you think my threats were without merit? You threatened my daughter. You—”
“Mother.” I inject steel into my tone. “That’s enough. Eros has not harmed me.”
“I disagree. He harmed you with this marriage.”
I let that go because this isn’t an argument I’ll win. “Regardless, it’s done. If you try to remove Aphrodite, I’ll bring my not-inconsiderable knowledge about you to the press. All the shady dealings and questionable moves. The stunt you pulled to try to get Persephone back to the upper city. The clean-up job on Zeus’s death. Every bit.”