Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(15)

“Are you mad? Zeus would have smote him on the spot,” Ares interjected.

“But you just said—”

“Your bad judgment was falling in love with him in the first place! Nay, saving him from his perch among the stars in the first place!”

“But I didn’t do that on purpose! I had no idea I had such power!” I replied.

“Exactly!” my father thundered. He sucked in air, his chest heaving, and wiped his face with both hands. With a desperate look in his eye, he took a step toward me. I flinched when he reached for my hands, but he took them within his anyway, his touch absurdly cautious. “Eros, don’t you understand what’s going on here? Your powers have grown. They are growing. I’ve been watching you. I know you’ve regained your telekinesis.”

I lost my breath. “What?”

“You were not supposed to have the power to return Orion to life, and you should not have the power to recall your abilities to yourself now that you’re human. Zeus is baffled by you right now. Baffled and afraid.”

“You’re saying . . . you’re saying that no one has gifted me with this ability? That I am somehow overcoming Zeus’s magic?” I stammered. I had thought that one of the upper gods, perhaps even Zeus himself, had allowed my power to return as a sort of prize for forming my first couple. Had even hoped this was true, because it would mean that Zeus’s anger at me was softening. But this . . . this was impossible to comprehend. “You believe Zeus . . . fears me?”

“He has always feared what he does not understand,” my father said. “How do you think Hera keeps him in line? Women have always baffled him.”

He smirked and I tried to smile, but I felt an awful, twisting ache of confusion inside me. “Why is this happening?”

“Love is one of the most powerful, audacious emotions in the universe,” my father said. “And you harness it. I’m not surprised your powers have grown. I only fear they will lead you into peril.”

I stared at my father. Never in my existence had he looked at me with such concern, such reverence, such . . . love.

“Eros, hear me now, because I might not be able to return to check on you after this trip. I want you to promise me you’ll be careful,” he said. “Zeus won’t notice the odd use of telekinesis here or there, but if you must use it, keep it small. Do nothing to draw his attention or his ire. Of course, if Artemis comes calling . . .”

I gulped. “Yes?”

“If Artemis comes calling, hit her with everything you’ve got,” he said, cupping my cheek with his calloused hand.

My heart, my throat, my eyes were full. Just to know my father actually cared about me, that he was keeping an eye on me, that he was protecting me, was overwhelming.

“I promise,” I said throatily. “I swear I won’t let you down.”

*

After approaching a few random people in town, asking if they were looking for love, and having them back away from me as if I were a rabid dog, I realized I’d be better off concentrating my efforts at school as originally planned. I returned home at dusk feeling tired, discouraged, and on edge, expecting at every turn to find Artemis and Apollo around the bend. What I needed was a nice long bath. Something to refresh and invigorate me for tomorrow. But when I shoved open the door to the bathroom, my mother was kicked back in the claw-foot tub, encased in lavender-scented bubbles.

“Eros! You startled me!” she said, hand to her heart. Her short blond hair was pulled back in a bristly ponytail, and her face was covered in some sort of blue goop. “You musn’t barge in on people when errant gods and goddesses could be on the loose.”

She lifted a sponge and squeezed it out over one extended, willowy arm.

“So,” I said, closing the door behind me. “You and Hephaestus? That’s fairly disturbing.”

Her arms dropped back into the tub with a splash. “I’m going to slaughter your father.”

“At least he was honest with me!” I protested, sitting atop the closed toilet seat. “You should have told me the day Hephaestus showed up on our doorstep.”

My mother sat up straight, sloshing water and bubbles onto the floor. “What would have been the point? We swore to keep it a secret. Not that that matters to your father. Besides, what Hephaestus and I had ended badly. And it ended badly thousands and thousands of years ago. It hardly matters now.”

“But do you really think we can trust him?” I asked quietly, leaning forward. “Are you sure he doesn’t want to use our situation to get back at you somehow?”

My mother clucked her tongue, and her blue eyes were almost pitying. “You have too much of your father in you. Not everyone holds a grudge, and even if they do, they don’t necessarily act upon it. Hephaestus has been in love with your sister for several millennia. He would no more hurt her family than she would start a war.”

I sighed and looked down at the blue-and-white tiles beneath my feet. “So it’s true. He did love her.”

“And she him, if I know anything about love. . . .”

We caught each other’s eyes and laughed at the absurdity of the idea that Aphrodite might get something like that wrong.

“She never told me so, but I could see it in her eyes,” my mother said. “Trust me, Eros. Hephaestus has nothing but our best interests in mind.”