Neon Gods (Dark Olympus #1)(37)

“Well, sure, and that, too.” She moves aside as I walk into my closet and shrug out of my jacket. Hermes leans against the doorframe. “You know, keeping all your windows and doors locked sends a special kind of message to your friends. It’s almost as if you don’t want company.”

“I don’t have friends.”

“Yes, yes, you’re a lone mountain of solitude.” She waves that away.

I hang my jacket in its proper place and kick off my shoes. “It’s not as if it keeps you out.”

“That’s true enough.” She laughs, the sound deceptively loud considering how small she is. That laugh is part of the reason I haven’t tried to up my security. As aggravating as I find her and Dionysus’s antics, the house feels less large and looming when they’re around.

She frowns at me and motions to my shirt and pants. “You’re not continuing the strip show?”

I might tolerate her presence here, but we have nowhere near the trust level required for me to fully undress in front of her. I trust no one that much, but instead of saying so, I keep my tone cautiously light. “Is it a strip show if you weren’t invited?”

She grins. “Dunno, but I’d enjoy it nonetheless.”

I shake my head. “Why are you here?”

“Oh. That. Duty calls.” She rolls her eyes. “I have an official message from Demeter.”

Persephone’s mother. There’s one element of this shitshow Persephone hasn’t really addressed, and it’s how her mother decided to push her into a marriage with a dangerous man solely for the sake of ambition without talking to her about it. I have plenty of thoughts about that, none of them kind.

I slide my hands into my pockets. “Well, let’s hear what she has to say.”

Hermes straightens and lifts her chin. Despite a whole host of differences, I have the sudden impression of Demeter. When Hermes speaks, it’s Demeter’s voice that emerges. Hermes’s mimicry is part of how she ended up as Hermes, and it’s perfect, as always. “I don’t know what grudge you’re nursing against Zeus and the rest of the Thirteen, and frankly, I don’t care. Free my daughter. If you harm her or refuse to return her, I’ll cut off every resource under my control to the lower city.”

I sigh. “It’s nothing more than I expected.” The cruelty is almost beyond comprehension, though. She wants her daughter to play along, so she has every intention of dragging Persephone back to the upper city—and to the altar. And she’ll step on my people to ensure it happens.

Hermes relaxes her posture and shrugs. “You know how the Thirteen are.”

“You are a member of the Thirteen.”

“So are you. And besides, I’m quirky.” She scrunches up her nose. “Also cute and lovable and lacking a certain level of power madness.”

I can’t exactly argue that. Hermes never seems to play the games the others do. Even Dionysus is focused on expanding his little corner of Olympus’s map of power. Hermes just…flits about. “Then why take the position?”

She laughs and smacks me on the shoulder. “Maybe it’s just because I like poking fun at powerful people who take themselves too seriously. Know anyone who fits the bill?”

“Charming.”

“Yes, I am.” She sobers. “I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re pissing off a lot of people right now, and I have a feeling that you intend to piss off a lot more before this is finished.”

She’s not wrong, but I still have to fight back a growl. “Everyone is so quick to forget that Persephone ran from them because she didn’t want the marriage Zeus and Demeter plotted.”

“Oh, I know. And, no lie, it makes me like her a tiny bit.” She holds her pointer finger and thumb a fraction of an inch apart. “But it won’t make a difference. Zeus waves his giant dick around and everyone scrambles to give him whatever he wants.”

I ignore that. “For someone so invested in the kind earth-mother persona, Demeter is quick to put her daughters on the chopping block.”

“She does love her girls.” Hermes shrugs. “You don’t know how it is out there. On this side of the river, you’re king and you’ve carved out a really good thing for your people. They don’t waste effort and resources re-creating the glitz and glam of the upper city, and they aren’t stabbing each other in the back with diamond-encrusted daggers.” At my look, she nods rapidly. “It happened. You must remember that fight between Kratos and Ares. That motherfucker just walked up to him in the middle of the party, whipped a dagger out, and…” She makes stabbing motions. “If Apollo hadn’t intervened, it would have been straight-up murder instead of just assault with a deadly weapon.”

“I’m sure I must have glossed over the part of the report where Ares was arrested on said charges.”

She shrugs. “You know how it is. Kratos isn’t one of the Thirteen, and he had been skimming off Ares’s bottom line. The fight was delightful drama; a trial wouldn’t have been.”

If ever there was a good example of how the Thirteen abuse their power, there it is. “It changes nothing. Persephone crossed the bridge. She’s here.” And she’s mine. I don’t say the latter, but Hermes’s perceptive gaze narrows on my face. I clear my throat. “She’s free to walk away at any time. She’s choosing not to.” I should leave it at that, but the thought of Demeter and Zeus dragging Persephone back to the upper city against her will has anger surging through me. “If they try to take her, they’ll have to go through me to do it.”