Electric Idol (Dark Olympus Book 2)

We have another round of drinks before I pay our tab and take Psyche home. She doesn’t let her public persona slip once, but I can see the strain around the edges. All because of my mother. I knew she would try something eventually, but even I didn’t expect this. She still intends to go through with the original plan. I don’t know if me marrying Psyche was what pushed her too far, but there will be no talking her down from this ledge. She means to throw herself over it and drag us down in the process.

Psyche doesn’t speak until we close the door of the penthouse behind us. “I thought the marriage would work.”

“I did, too.”

“Did you?” She hardly sounds like herself. “Or was this all part of the plan? Threaten me, humiliate my mother by marrying me, and then kill me?”

That stops me short. “You don’t believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe.” Psyche drags her hands through her hair. “But I suppose you’re right. If you intended to become a widower, Aphrodite would have no reason to ambush us.” She glances at me, her expression softening. “Sorry. I’m so wrapped up in my head, I didn’t ask how you’re holding up.”

My throat goes a little tight, but I breathe past it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not the one being threatened right now.”

“Your mother just steamrolled right over you as if you were a child. That can’t feel good.”

It doesn’t. It really fucking doesn’t. But then, I have no illusions about the role I play in my mother’s life. Always in support of her ambitions, her needs, her whims. She might tolerate my occasional pushing back, but I am a tool for her to pick up and use at her leisure.

I sigh. “My mother is a simple creature when it boils down to it. She lavishes praise and rewards on me when I do exactly what she wants, and she punishes me when I step out of line. I went against her will when I married you, so punishment it is.” On the surface, I suppose that’s how most people parent. I honestly have no idea. It just feels so fucking insidious with my mother.

“Eros, that’s terrible.”

I let her concern wash over me. It feels good, far better than I deserve. “Don’t worry about me, Psyche. We’ll find a way through this.”

For a moment, I think she’ll keep arguing, keep digging, but she finally nods. “We need to talk about next steps.”

“Not yet.” I take her hand. I enjoy touching her so much, and not even in a way that’s confined to sex. It still feels a little baffling that I can do it whenever I want. This casual intimacy might be a small thing, but it’s an experience I’ve never had before. More, touching her calms me in a way I’m not prepared to deal with. “I want to show you something.”

“Eros.” She gives an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think showing me your dick right now will solve any of our problems.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” I lead her to the locked door across from my safe room and pull her to stand before me. “Pay very close attention and memorize this.” I type out the code slowly. “Repeat it back to me.”

Psyche does, flawlessly. “What is this?”

Instead of answering with words, I push the door open and nudge her in ahead of me. I don’t let her get far before I turn her back to the door. “This is reinforced. It can take machine-gun fire without punching through, at least long enough for Ares’s people to show up. The walls are the same.”

Her eyes go wide. “That’s a lot of reinforcement.”

“It’s a safe room. If you’re home alone for some reason and get spooked, come here. I keep several burner phones charged, so you can call out for help.” I motion to the bright-red box near the door. “This will call Ares’s forces.”

If anything, her eyes get wider. “Not the police?”

“The police are for civilians.” It stands to reason that she’d default to the police in a situation like this, though. The current Ares and Demeter don’t get along, so of course she won’t trust his private military with the safety of her family, even if that’s their official role. Most of the Thirteen have some sort of private security they contract for themselves and their families, but we can’t trust Aphrodite’s people for obvious reason. No, it has to be Ares.

She gives herself a little shake. “I suppose that’s fair.” Psyche turns and looks at the trio of monitors set up around my chair, at the filing cabinets. “This isn’t just a safe room.”

“No, it’s not just a safe room.”

She glances at me. “You’re putting an undeserved amount of faith in me by giving me access to all this.”

I shrug with a nonchalance I don’t feel. “I promised that I’d keep you safe. That promise extends to when you’re not in my presence. This is one of the safest spots this side of the River Styx. Not even Hermes can get inside.”

She looks at the room with new appreciation. “That is safe. I swear that woman is half ghost and can sift through the vents.”

“Nothing so exciting. She’s just an excellent thief and hacker.” She was long before she became Hermes, but that part isn’t known publicly. In fact, not much at all is known publicly about her. She prefers it that way.

“You talk like she’s a friend.”

“She…is. Or as near to it as one gets in this city.”

Psyche’s smile is bittersweet. “Olympus continues to be quite the qualifier.”

“It’s home.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” She presses her lips together as if not sure what to say. “Thank you for showing me this. I promise to try not to abuse it.”

That draws a laugh from me. “I appreciate your attempt at restraint.” We go back into the hall and I have her input the code enough times that I’m sure she can do it under duress. We’ll do this in a couple of days to be sure, but it’s the bare minimum I can accomplish right now. It does little to combat how loose around the edges I feel at the thought of my mother’s knife pointed in Psyche’s direction. I promised that this marriage would change things, and in the end, it’s changed nothing.

Aphrodite has made a liar out of me.

We end up taking the time to change into more comfortable clothing before retreating to the living room to talk strategy. As much as I don’t want Psyche’s idea of “organization” spilling all over the master bedroom, part of me intensely dislikes the way we have separate closets. I don’t know what the fuck that’s about. As she pointed out before, plenty of couples have separate rooms, and we have hardly anything resembling a traditional relationship.

Still.

Psyche sits on the other side of the couch, and I allow that space, but I reach down and grab her feet, lifting them to perch on my thigh. Her frown morphs into surprise as I take one foot and begin to massage it. “Oh gods, what are you doing?”

“Those heeled boots were sexy, but they look uncomfortable.”

“They are uncomfortable, but that’s the life of an influencer.” She melts down against the couch until she’s almost prone. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

I dig my thumb into her arch, causing her to emit a damn-near-sexual moan. “Sure you can. We need to come up with a new plan.”

She makes another little whimpering sound and rallies. “Pause.”

I go still. “What? Pause? What are you talking about?”

“Just…pause.” She pulls out her phone with a look of utter concentration on her face. “Can you tilt your head a little to the left so you catch the light? Yes, like that.”

Bemused, I allow her to arrange me like a human-sized doll and snap a picture. She turns her phone to me without me asking her to show me. It’s…really good. I look relaxed and happy, lounging on the couch with my wife’s feet in my lap. “You’re really good at this.”

“I’ve been doing it long enough; I kind of have to be.” She starts typing on her phone.

I won’t have her full attention until she posts the picture, so I settle in to wait. It doesn’t take her long. She sighs and sets her phone aside, giving me her full attention. “The plan—”

“I didn’t mean about the social-influencer thing, though you are good at that. I meant the pictures. Do you ever use an actual camera?”

“Not really.” Psyche shrugs. “I mean, there are photo shoots and stuff, but you can accomplish a lot with a camera phone these days. Besides, it’s kind of a fun challenge to get the photos I want with just the phone.”

“Consider me impressed.” And I am. It seems like all I bring to this world is ugliness. Death and pain. It’s never really bothered me before. Olympus might look gorgeous on the surface, but the pretty is only skin deep. Once you dig a little, all you find is rot.

Though that rule doesn’t seem to apply to the woman with her feet in my lap. Psyche brings some beauty and positivity to the space she occupies. All her photo captions are uplifting, even the ones where she’s admitting struggle. I thought it was a crock of shit when she first started making waves in Olympus, but the longer I’m with her, the more I realize how fucking genuine she is. Oh, she has her mask and she lies as well as I do, but that thread of kindness, that desire to bring light into the world instead of darkness? That’s real.

“Eros.” She says my name warmly, almost indulgently.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Psyche shakes her head. “Please focus. This is important.”

She’s right. I can’t afford to get distracted, even by her. Really, focusing on anything but this conversation is an avoidance tactic. Now that my plan to keep Psyche safe—to keep her with me—has been proven a failure, there’s really only one answer. “I can get you out of Olympus.”

She goes still. “That’s nearly impossible.”

“It depends on who you know. Poseidon is a stickler for the rules, but not all his people are. With a hefty enough bribe, Triton will smuggle people out. If you leave Olympus, you’ll be safe from my mother.”

Psyche stares at me for a long moment. “But you won’t be. If you think I should leave Olympus, then you should, too.”

“My mother doesn’t want to kill me.” I should leave it at that, but I’ve trusted this woman with little bits and pieces of me already. What’s one more? “Exile has been Aphrodite’s punishment of choice more than once in the past, and I’ve been the person who enacted it. Those people would love a chance to get revenge. If I leave the city with you, it will just paint a different kind of target on your back, and I won’t have the resources to even attempt to protect you like I can here.” Not enough. No matter how hard I try, I’m never fucking enough. I can’t keep Psyche safe without sending her away. I’m the reason she’s in this messed-up situation to begin with.

“No.”

I blink. “What?”

She looks as resolute as I’ve ever seen her. “No, I am not fleeing Olympus. My life is here. My family is here. I’m not letting that bitch—even if she is your mother—run me out of town. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Damn it.” I drag in a breath. “I will do everything in my power to protect you, but I might fail. I’m far better at killing than I am at playing bodyguard.” I’ve never had to do the latter before, and never when the stakes were so high. “Money isn’t an issue. We could get you set up. You wouldn’t be able to see your family, but at least you’d be alive.”

“Eros.” She says my name so gently. “That might all be true, but if I run and leave Aphrodite in power, the next person she targets likely won’t be as lucky to have the resources at my disposal. She’ll continue to victimize people less powerful than her just because she can. She’ll continue to use you to do it.” Her hazel eyes go hard. “I won’t allow that to happen. You deserve better than to be her weapon, and the people in this city deserve better than to walk on eggshells to avoid pissing Aphrodite off. We’ll find a way to stop her. Together.”

I’m ashamed of the sheer relief her words bring me. She’s not leaving me. Not yet. Fuck, I’m such an asshole. “We have to adjust the plan.”

“Yes. Starting with this Friday, when we attend Helen’s party.”

That gives me a little pause. “I thought you’d want to skip it considering what happened tonight.”

“I do want to skip it, but it’s not about what I want.” She shifts on the couch. It strikes me that this could be our lives if we were different people, in a different situation. Relaxing in my living room, her taking candid photos, talking about our days…

Longing hits me so hard, it steals my breath. I close my eyes and try to focus. “If you’re staying in Olympus, it’s the height of foolishness to leave the penthouse more than strictly necessary. My mother wants you dead; no reason to make it easier on her.”

“Would you have gone if I weren’t here?”

I frown. As tempting as it is to keep reminding Psyche how dangerous this course of action is, I answer honestly. “Yeah. I like Helen. She and Eris play the game differently than I do, but that goes with the territory of being born into the Kasios family. The events they put together are never boring, especially when one of them is trying to prove a point to Perseus or Zeus.” Except Perseus is Zeus now. Damn it, one of these days that will click in my thoughts properly and I won’t have to keep reminding myself.

“Exactly my point. We’re fighting on two fronts now.” She wiggles her foot until I pick it up and resume massaging. “We need time to figure out a way to deal with this renewed threat from your mother, and the only way to create that time is to have Olympus on our side. The original plan still has to stay in motion.”

“That’s reckless.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

I concentrate on running my thumb up the sole of her foot until she lets loose that sexy little moan again. As tempting as it is to hole up in this penthouse for the foreseeable future, it will demolish our chances of playing out the epic love story we’re supposed to be selling. More than that, I saw what happened last time one of Demeter’s daughters was kept from her. She can’t starve out the whole of the upper city in response to this, but she’s got plenty of weapons in her arsenal.

And that’s the best-case scenario.

Worst case, Demeter realizes why we entered into this marriage in the first place and goes after Aphrodite directly. There hasn’t been a true war between members of the Thirteen in generations. Not even the last Zeus and last Hades, for all that their conflict ended with Hades’s death. It was Ares and Hephaestus who warred all those decades ago, and they demolished several blocks of the upper city in the process. It was one of the few times in our history when Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades came together to quell the conflict. Zeus, of course, executed both Ares and Hephaestus in a particularly gruesome and public manner.

That Zeus had held his title for most of his life.

This one has been Zeus for a few months.

No matter what kind of heft the title carries, I don’t know if Perseus can hold his own if a conflict spirals out of control between Demeter and Aphrodite.

No, Psyche is right. We don’t have a choice. “Okay, we’ll attend the party.”

“I do have one question.”

“Sure.”

She twists her hair around her finger. “You’re friends with the Kasios siblings, right? Why not just go to Zeus now and ask him to intervene? No matter how powerful Aphrodite is, she’s not Zeus powerful.”

I concentrate on rubbing her foot in a way that makes her moan a little while I formulate an answer. “Perseus—Zeus—and I aren’t as close as we were as kids, but even if we were, I don’t think he could overlook the fact that the evidence against my mother also implicates me. He can’t punish one and spare the other, because he’ll have to justify any action he takes against another of the Thirteen.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” She tilts her head to the side. “We’ll save going to Zeus as a last resort.”

I hope it doesn’t come to that. No matter how distant we’ve grown over the years, Perseus is dealing with enough without me dumping my problems into his lap and expecting him to fix them for me. We’ll find another way, though.

In the meantime… “I have a question, too.”

“Yes?”

“Why have you and your sisters put so much time and effort into holding yourselves apart from the rest of us? I understand avoiding me or some of the others, but Helen would have taken you under her wing in an instant.”

“You think so?” Psyche makes a face but finally exhales. “I will admit that I have something of a chip on my shoulder when it comes to dealing with the children of the Thirteen. My experiences haven’t been great.”

We’re a closed group. By the nature of the Thirteen, our number changes from time to time when the person holding the titles changes and brings their family with them, but there’s a core group of us who have grown up together. Still… “Has Helen been cruel to you?” I can believe it of Eris, but Helen is a harder sell. She’s not exactly warm, but she’s better than most.

“No.” Psyche says it so begrudgingly that I laugh. The sound is only partially in relief. I’d hate to have to rip my friend a new one because she was mean to my wife.

“I think you’d like Helen if you give her half a chance.” I set her foot down and pick up the other.

She closes her eyes and seems to give herself over to the foot massage. “I’d like Helen, or the public version of Psyche would like Helen?”

“Both.”

She exhales and opens her eyes. “This matters to you.”

I’m surprised to find it does. I want to say that it’s a simple game of numbers, and the more people on our side, the better off our position, but that’s not strictly the truth. Nothing about this situation is simple, and the longer we’re together, the more complicated it becomes. I expected to desire Psyche—I have from the start—but I didn’t expect to like her or to feel so possessive that part of me wants to wrap her up and keep her away from the world while the other part wants to show her off at every opportunity. It’s more than the fact that she’s beautiful and has a sweet center that not even Olympus could mar. I admire her.

Which is why I tell her the truth. “Helen is as close to a sister as I have. More so than anyone else in Olympus, I trust her, and she trusts me. I…” I hesitate. “I would like it if you’d give her a chance.”

“Not just because of the political gain?”

Of course she sees right through me. I give a rueful smile. “No, not just because of the political gain, though it never hurts to have a member of the Kasios family on your side.”

She’s silent for several minutes. “Okay. I’ll give her a chance.”

This feels more momentous than it likely should, but I can’t help the fact that it feels right to have our lives start edging into each other. Or maybe that’s just the selfish part of me that wants to tether this woman to me in as many ways as possible.

Psyche clears her throat. “We’ll start with a two-pronged defense. The first thing we need is more alliances. I realize Zeus is out for the time being, but there are plenty of other powerful people in Olympus. The more we have on our side, the more risky it is for Aphrodite to strike.”

“I can pretty much guarantee Helen’s party will have a lot of powerful people, even if they’re mostly the children of the Thirteen.”

“That’s a start.” Psyche nods. “The second prong is getting the rest of Olympus on our side and cheering for us. The little social-media teasers have gotten that ball rolling, but doing an official interview will help speed things along.”

I focus on her foot for a long moment. “That works for a short-term plan.”

“Long-term will have to be adaptable.” She closes her eyes, her expression becoming more and more relaxed. “I don’t suppose your mother was bluffing about still wanting me dead?”

I wish I could let her believe that will happen, but I can’t. “No. Aphrodite doesn’t bluff.”

“Then we’ll just have to find a way to force her to call off this attack. Easy, right?” She laughs, the sound bitter. “At least my mother isn’t rampaging this time.”

“There is that. Have I mentioned lately that she’s terrifying?”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

I grin, but the expression fades quickly. “We’ll find a way. My mother is hardly a rational individual, but she’s only a danger because of how powerful she is. If we can find more allies and use the public’s goodwill in our favor, it might be enough.” It’s still a long shot, but there’s the tiniest chance that once she realizes she’s outmatched, she’ll cease any further attacks. Or at least keep it in the area of reputation, rather than literal life and death.

“Then we stick with this plan and adapt as necessary, depending on what she does.” Psyche gives me a tired smile. “We’ll figure it out, Eros. We’re wonderfully matched when it comes to this. Between the two of us, we’ll find a solution.”

The casual faith she puts in me is staggering. My chest goes tight. “Yes. We will. I promise.”

“Mmm.”

It takes me several minutes to realize that Psyche has fallen asleep. Several more minutes pass before I force myself to set her foot down and rise. She looks different in sleep, something in her relaxing that I hadn’t realized was tense. It’s not that she seems younger, exactly, but that she’s put down a burden she carries with her always.

I have the strangest urge to offer to carry it for her.

It’s not late enough for me to sleep yet, which is just as well. I have a call to make. I leave Psyche on the couch for now and head to the safe room. Tomorrow, I’ll drill her on the code again a few times to ensure it’s properly memorized. I don’t plan on leaving her unattended more often than strictly necessary, but I already know she’s going to crave some independence before too long. I’m not sure how I’ll handle security outside the penthouse; a problem for another day. I softly shut the door and do the last thing I want to right now.

I dial my mother.

I half expect her to ignore my call. Her favorite punishment is icing me out, depriving me of any contact or attention. When I was young and she’d do it, it always felt like she’d sliced me right down to the bone. Aphrodite is so much larger than life, and to a child—to her child—it’s even truer. Having her turn away from me…

I give myself a shake. Her tactics don’t work as well as they used to. Not since I grew up enough to realize she uses her love and her attention as both lure and punishment. But some things are impossible to shuck off, and I can’t quite pull in a full breath until she answers.

She doesn’t make me wait long. “So now you decide you’re available for a conversation? I should block your number.”

“You won’t.” It’s an effort to keep my voice even. “How will you convey your disappointment in me then?”

She makes a sound suspiciously like a hiss. “Insolent child.”

“I’m twenty-eight, Mother.” I hurl the term like a weapon. “I’m more than capable of making my own choices, including who will be my bride.”

“She wouldn’t be your bride if you’d carved her heart out of her chest like I asked. I don’t know why you’re balking, Eros. It’s not as if you didn’t do that and worse to Polyphonte. Killed her right in front of her parents. Did you know her mother committed suicide this week? Tragic, that.”

I’m not prepared for the guilt that swarms me. “That’s different.” The words feel like a lie on my tongue.

“It’s really not. Did you convince yourself you’re like that precious wife of yours?” She laughs. “Silly boy. You’re nothing like her. You’re like me. We are the only two people in this world who can understand each other, and you’re putting that at risk for a little bitch with good hair. The moment that woman realizes what you’re truly capable of, she’ll turn from you. Don’t you understand that I’m trying to help you?”

There are very few things I care about in this world. Most of the time, I hate that Aphrodite numbers among them. I’m old enough now, independent enough, to understand that she’s constantly attempting to emotionally manipulate me. It’s a good portion of the reason why I have systematically carved out the softer feelings from my personality, removing all possibility of traction. I thought those parts of me were gone forever, but Psyche’s presence has them waking as if from a long slumber.

They won’t serve me now. All they’ll accomplish is giving my mother a foothold that I’ve worked too damn hard to eradicate.

“Mother,” I say slowly. “If you cause any harm to come to my wife, you will regret it.”

“Not as much as you’re going to regret this marriage.” Her tone goes just as cold as mine. “What were you thinking, Eros? I send you to remove the girl and you marry her? Have you lost your mind?”

“Plans changed.”

“Not mine.”

I know that. I don’t know why I’m reaching out now, hoping that I can work a miracle and change Aphrodite’s mind. Still…I have to try. Reacting in fear will just give her a larger target to aim at. I have to be cold, colder than I ever have before. “I never ask you for anything. I’m asking you for this. Leave Psyche alone.”

She’s silent for so long, a foolish part of me starts to dare to hope that this is the moment things change. That, for once, my mother will put my needs above her selfish desires.

I really should know better after a lifetime of being her son. Finally, Aphrodite says, “I see that she’s gotten to you. Pity.”

“Mother.”

“Do not say ‘Mother’ in that tone of voice. Not to me.”

Something akin to panic tightens my chest. “Let me have her, and put this behind us and I’ll never question you again. That’s what you want, isn’t it? A good little fixer who stops giving you attitude.”

She takes a slow breath, and when she speaks again, she sounds almost calm. “Everything I do, Eros, I do for love.” She hangs up before I can formulate a response.

I stare at my phone. “Fuck. Fuck.” I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. I knew it, but I still tried. I close my eyes, but an image imprints itself on the back of my eyelids, of Psyche’s body bent and broken, her hazel eyes gone blank with death, the thing that makes her her gone forever. I press my hand to my chest, hard, trying to breathe past the pain the image brings. I won’t let it happen. I know all my mother’s tricks. I just need to hold her off until we can come up with a plan to neutralize her for good.

I know how to neutralize her. She’s the one who taught me.

I can’t do it. I thought I had no lines left to cross, but not even I can kill my own mother. No matter how evil she is. Not even to keep Psyche safe.

I leave the safe room with slow steps that increase in pace the closer I get to the living room. Psyche’s only been out of my sight for ten minutes. She’s fine. I know she’s fine. But I don’t breathe easy again until I walk into the room and find her exactly where I left her.

What the fuck is happening to me?

I gather her up into my arms, ignoring her sleepy protest that she’s too heavy, and carry her into our bedroom. We end up in bed, me spooning her as she sinks back into sleep. I press my hand to her upper chest, counting her slow inhales and exhales until my nerves finally settle enough for sleep to take me.