A Reckoning so Sweet (The Reckoning Book 3) Read online

  “Hermes, may I present to you the Champion, for reasons you will soon see.” She waves her hand to me, and I slowly move beside her.

  “Hello,” I say, quite awkwardly. “I’m Lexa, here to see the big guy.”

  That nearly gets his eyes to bulge out of his head. “The big guy,” Hermes repeats. “Yes, yes. Charming.” He looks to Athena for answers. “Assuming the big guy would even agree to have an audience with her, she is likely to be flayed alive.” Back to me. “You are aware you walked into your own grave, yes?”

  “I have not named her Champion for her weakness. If any mortal can handle it, it’s she,” Athena says.

  A breeze floats through, rattling Athena’s chainmail skirt and swaying Hermes’s robes. In a puff of gold, another goddess appears, wearing what I’d hesitate to call a lacey dress. Sheer white fabric clings to her shoulders, her black, curly hair pulled back into a decorative hair tie. On Olympus, her ebony skin is highlighted with golden sparkles.

  Aphrodite swallows me in her ample chest, hugging me tightly as she says happily, “If it isn’t my favorite—” I hear her sniff my hair. “—and most smelly human!” She lets me go, and I self-consciously smell my own armpit.

  Yes, I do smell. She has me there.

  Hermes is aghast. “Am I the only one here who’s never met this mortal?”

  Hands on her hips, she grins and utterly ignores him. “And on Olympus, no less. How are you, sugarplum? Have you been getting my gifts?”

  “Gifts?” Hermes sputters as he looks on his tablet. “I don’t see those logged, either.”

  Aphrodite rolls her eyes before she winks at me. “He’s cute when he thinks everyone else plays by the rules, isn’t he?” That gets him to turn a bright red. “Why don’t you two request his highness’s audience while I get this smelly little girl looking like a goddess herself?”

  Athena nods once. “It will not take long.” She heads up the rest of the marble stairs, turning onto the walkway that leads to a bridge to another temple, determination in each step.

  “I don’t—” Hermes lets out a soft sigh before he resumes his floating and catches up to Athena. I hear him say, “He’s either going to bed her or fry her.”

  “He will do neither.” I swear I hear Athena say I belong to someone else, but their voices drift away, too quiet and too far for me to be certain. It’s true, even if I did make peace with it. I belong to Dagon.

  My soul does, anyway. And I guess the clueless guy might have my heart, too, if we’re being sappy.

  Lucifer owns my uterus, though.

  “I promised my friend I wouldn’t play dress-up,” I finally say, turning to Aphrodite once we’re alone. I also said I wouldn’t be long, but I have a feeling gods don’t know what it’s like to be rushed, and I’d rather not get flayed or fried.

  “Oh, dear,” she hums, twisting a finger in my unkempt hair. “You should never make promises you can’t keep. It’s bad for business.”

  You know what else is bad for business? I want to say, dying and starving. I keep that to myself, too, because yet again, these gods would know nothing about that.

  I let Aphrodite whisk me away in a puff of gold smoke, and we portal to her temple. At least, I have to assume it’s her temple, with the half-naked statues lining the halls, their stone bodies stuck in various intimate poses, some natural…and some that earn a lifted brow from me. Technique, I guess.

  Aphrodite sees me gazing hard at the last set of figures and says, “Good choice, dear. That one’s my favorite, too.”

  Once I shake off my embarrassment, I say, “Can’t you just zap me clean?”

  Her long, lean legs lead us down a hall, away from the temple’s largest and most spacious room, and thankfully away from the sex-crazed statues. “Of course, but you’ve got to try a bath here. There’s something in the water that’s just so…refreshing.”

  “Better not be drugs,” I mutter as we enter a suite with nothing but mirrors and steamy circles of water. The marble floors give way to pink and gold swirls of tile. The ceiling above us is nonexistent; it’s nothing more than the crystal blue sky.

  “Honey, the only drug I’m into is—”

  “Love,” I cut in, sighing. Of course it would be. She wouldn’t be the goddess of love if it wasn’t.

  “Right you are,” she giggles. “Now get out of those smelly things and hop in that water. I guarantee that you’ll feel better than you have in years.”

  As she muses about what dress she’ll make for me, I shrug off my jacket and slip off my boots. Socks, pants, then shirt. Within a minute, I’m unhooking my bra and dropping my underwear. Gods aren’t modest, and I—well, I’m past that point. I don’t have time for frivolous things like modesty.

  I hoist my right foot into the air, about to step into the hot tub of water when I hear Aphrodite whisper, “Wow. That’s big and…hideous.”

  My Mark. My first Mark. The one I grew up covering with long sleeves and pants year-round in school. The one my parents forced on me. The bull’s skull takes up most of my back, a tribal crown above its head. It feathers out onto each of my limbs and up my neck, a black skeleton speckled in red. It looked better all black, before it was activated, in my opinion. Not that I hardly ever looked at it. Throughout my life, I usually pretended it wasn’t there.

  “Somehow it suits you,” she finishes.

  “Thanks, I think?” If that was an insult or a compliment, I don’t know. Don’t care. I step into the water. Like a warm, forgiving hug, it embraces me. Somehow I end up wading to the middle of the pool, where the water is deepest. I dunk my head, and when I resurface, I gaze upward, into the blue sky. A bluer blue than it was seconds ago; the cloud puffs crisper. It’s like my eyes are new. “What is in the water?” I turn to watch a very naked Aphrodite slide into the water.

  I definitely can see why she’s the goddess of love.

  She gives me a wink. “It’s a secret.” She runs her hands through my hair, standing behind me. With a wave of a hand, a glass bottle of pink soap appears, and she literally dumps the entire jar on me. A gallon of the sparkly stuff settles into my hair as she starts to scrub. The glass bottle vanishes in a wisp of magic.

  Clearly I’ve grown accustomed to such things, otherwise I’d have to keep doing double and triple takes.

  “There is so much dirt and grim in your hair,” she whines. “I don’t know how you do it. I’d go crazy.”

  “I’ve been mainly worried about keeping everyone alive. Thanks to Hades and Aries, it’s been hard.”

  She continues to scrub, running her fingers through the lengths of my hair. “A few millennia ago, Aries and I…” Aphrodite stops abruptly. “He’s changed lately. He’s no longer the lover he was. Truly sad, because his stamina is enormous.”

  I bend my head back as she instructs me to rinse my hair. “He tricked me.”

  “You’re not the first to fall for it. For him.”

  “Yes, but I think my luck was the worst.”

  Aphrodite has a sponge in her hand, and she starts scrubbing my neck and back. Despite the conversation topic, this is the most peaceful I’ve felt in a long time. “Do you want to talk about it, sugarplum?”

  Why not? I’ve never really talked to anyone about it, and it’s been a weight on my shoulders. Plus the setting. Olympus, the bath—I feel close to Aphrodite, like we’re long-lost friends.

  “I was fighting whatever was between me and Dagon.” I pause when I hear her make an exasperated noise. “We stumbled across a town. It had a wall, soldiers with guns and food. You saw it. Everyone had a job. Everyone was useful in their own way. There was still power from the generators and clean clothes and showers. It was great. I thought we’d found a new home.

  “I started going scouting with him. At the time I thought he was just a macho man who liked to fight. I didn’t know he was with Hades.” I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering. “I don’t know why he didn’t reveal himself sooner. If he had, maybe we wouldn’t have lost the town a
nd Josie and all those other innocent people would still be alive.”

  Aphrodite says softly, drawing the sponge down an arm, “In war, even innocents aren’t safe.”

  “I know that now.” My voice barely comes out. “But still…maybe I wouldn’t have gotten this, either.” I glance at my chest, at the dragon resting above my heart.

  “Gotten what?” Aphrodite moves before me, staring at my breasts. Or, rather, the Mark on them. “Now I have a feeling that’s not simply a questionably placed tattoo. I thought—well, the only reason I was able to overtake Hades’s Mark on that man was because his link was weakened. But your link to Dagon isn’t.”

  “This Mark isn’t mine. I’m a placeholder for it. It was my punishment for letting Aries fool me.”

  “Who has the power to do something like that?” Aphrodite answers her own question, “The first Fallen. Satan. You say you’re a placeholder…for who?” She must know. She has to. I don’t know why she’s forcing me to say it aloud.

  “He wants to devour my kid. My son, if Dagon fathers it.”

  The goddess of love frowns, a look that doesn’t suit her. “What kind of evil would wish to do something like that?”

  “The worst kind,” I say. “But the joke’s on him, because I’m not going to have a kid.”

  “Dagon has Seraph blood, dear. They’re potent by nature. If the ship sails, you’ll have a son, whether you have protection or not.”

  As if I need her to remind me of that. “I know, which is why Dagon and I are never doing the deed.”

  She gives me a knowing look. “You have to face the music, honey. It’s going to happen. No matter how hard you try not to, sooner or later passion will overtake you both and—”

  “Never going to happen.”

  “I didn’t tell you that your love will change the heavens because you’re destined to be celibate. Trust me, you’ll have your passion—that moment where nothing matters more than to be with him—and all this worrying you’re doing won’t matter.” Aphrodite starts scrubbing my hands, paying close attention to my dirty fingernails and overgrown cuticles.

  I roll my eyes. “So I should just pop him out and hand him over?”

  She smiles. “Of course not. Perhaps your son will be more noteworthy than you.”

  “If the world lasts that long, maybe.”

  Aphrodite places a soft hand on my cheek, tilting my head so that I can stare into her dark eyes. “Have faith, Lexa. Everything will be as it was meant to be.” She gets back to work on my other hand.

  Hard to have faith when everything you’ve ever known is gone.

  Just like it’s hard to see the big picture behind all the corpses.

  I can’t stop myself from saying something belligerent: “Is that what you told Hades when Lucifer took Persephone?”

  Aphrodite recoils at the sound of her name. “She was…a very unfortunate accident in my younger days. I do regret what became of her—”

  A third woman appears in the room, her golden armor shimmering. A hand on her sword hilt, Athena says, “What Aphrodite will never admit is that she was jealous of her. She was so beautiful that the mortals who saw her started singing songs about her instead of Aphrodite. Couldn’t have that, could you?”

  “We can’t all be so far up our own asses, can we?” Aphrodite shoots back.

  The shade-throwing. It’s making me uncomfortable, even in the tranquil water. I know there has to be more to the story than what they’re saying, but I don’t feel like pressing either of them on it. I shouldn’t have even brought her up to begin with.

  “No, just like most cannot spend all day in front of a mirror, practicing sultry looks.” Athena has some extra shade to throw in, “Some gods have duties they must perform.”

  “And was it your overwhelming sense of justice that allowed her little girl to be murdered? For her to be Marked, again?” Aphrodite gestures to my chest, where Lucifer’s Mark rests in plain view above the tub’s waterline.

  “We are forbidden to interfere, lest we risk exile. Do not pretend you don’t know that. Aries playing with the lives of mortals was the last straw.” Athena takes her attention to me. “I am sorry, for what happened. It was most unfortunate. Even the Fates did not foresee Gabriel’s turn.”

  Not wanting to further talk of past events which bring me to my breaking point nightly, I say, “So do I have an audience?”

  “You have a meal, with Hera. Anything more will be up to her. Once you’re prepared, I’ll escort you.” Athena turns on her heels and heads out of the bath chamber.

  Aphrodite sighs. “Well. Let’s hurry this up, then, shall we? Wouldn’t want to keep that one waiting.” She starts to hum a soothing melody, making sure my body is free of all dirt. Once it’s done, she leads me out of the tub and clicks her fingers.

  My hair dries instantly, curled and done up in a mess of pins and clips. My eyelids feel a bit heavier, like they have makeup on them. Strappy sandals hug my feet, tying above my ankles. Nothing but a white robe covers me—no underwear, no pants, and definitely no bra. The fabric hangs low between my breasts and is practically absent on my back, showing both Marks. Athena’s golden bangle sits on my wrist, untouched.

  “I…look absurd,” I state, glancing at Aphrodite, who also snapped herself dry and dressed. I pull the white fabric around my chest. “Can you see my nipples?”

  Aphrodite purses her lips. “A little bit, yes. But they’re cute.” With a wave of her hand, she disappears, leaving me with the weird feeling that someone gets after their nipples were just called cute.

  Shaking off the absolute weirdness I felt, I headed out of the room and found Athena standing tall, ready to escort me. The goddess still seems flushed from her bickering with Aphrodite, so I ask, “You okay?”

  Her head motions forward, and we begin our walk through the temple. “I am strained, as everyone else is,” she answers as we emerge into the bright, warm sun and walk across the nearest flower garden. We walk over a pool with fish, their tails flowing with the current. “Hades has gone against even Zeus’s orders. Though it pains me to go against him, he must not triumph.”

  Birds of all colors tweet in the trees, watching us as we pass. After that bath, everything looks brighter, more intense. There’s a honey-filled tone in Athena’s voice I never before noticed. Is this how gods see all the time? Is this how they feel?

  I like it.

  “And what happens if he does?” I ask as our feet slow before a set of giant stone doors, their archways winged horses.

  Athena gives me a grave, solemn expression. “Then Gaia—your world—and the Seraph world will become his. Mankind will never know freedom again.”

  Oh. That’s all? No biggie.

  Athena is the first to enter the meal area—a large, wide open space in a temple near a sunflower garden. The white and black marble below our feet gives way to blue crystals every few feet, smooth like the rest of the floor, like a geode that was sliced in half. A long, carved table sits, silk tablecloths tumbling off its edge and resting their ends on the ground. On it sits a variety of foods: fruits, meats, even bread.

  My mouth waters at the sight of the rolls. It’s been ages since I’ve had bread.

  Guilt sweeps over me, because I can’t truly enjoy this food while my friends are starving, can I?

  “Leave us,” a strong, female voice commands from the opposite end of the long table.

  Athena bends her head and exits the room, and I’m unhurried in meeting the woman’s stern gaze. Hera. All I can remember is that she’s Zeus’s wife and prone to jealousy over his affairs. And if all the legends are true, he’s had lots of them.

  Even sitting, Hera is intimidating. Her shoulders are wide, clothed in a dark red cape, feathers lining her neck. Her brown hair is pulled back, piled inside her high, pointed crown. At least five piercings dot each ear. She looks older than the other gods—if I’m not mistaken, she’s got a few wrinkles.

  She slips a wine goblet between her jeweled f
ingers and takes a sip, studying me hard. The wine is the color of her lips. After a moment of silence, she speaks, “Athena speaks highly of you. Quite an accomplishment, for a mortal who sold her own soul.”

  So that’s how this is going to be? Fine. Two can play at that game.

  “I didn’t sell my soul,” I inform her. “My parents did, before I was born.”

  “Ah, yes. Parents. Odd that children believe them to be all-knowing when in reality they are prone to make many mistakes.” Hera motions to Olympus. “How do you find our home?” She is, clearly, fishing for some kind of compliment that I honestly am not certain I want to give.

  “It’s a lot nicer than my world, that’s for sure.”

  She smirks. “A shame, what’s happening to it.” She waves her hand, and the meat plate appears in front of her. She works with the silver fork to pick her piece before sending the dish back to its spot. “Did you know that, once upon a time, your world was just like this?”

  I have to force a chuckle at that. “I don’t know about it being just like this, but it was better than it is now.”

  “Magic used to flow freely, before the realms were closed off. Your world was their center, where all could comingle. We were worshipped by mortals as gods, and we were often able to bestow upon our favorites boons.” Hera pointedly looks at the brace on my wrist. “And then man’s prophets came. They worked to change Gaia, to close her off from her roots. When the famous son of man was born, the fate of the other realms was sealed. We were locked in here, waiting until we could venture out.”

  “But there are Warlocks and Demons and things like that still—”

  “Remnants. Mere dust. The supernatural beings on earth are twisted forms of what they once were, mutated and hideous. Once the other realms were sealed away, those left on earth—with every passing generation—became more and more impure.” Hera plucks a bread roll from a nearby basket, tearing off a piece as she adds, “As for the Demons, well, mortals may have given up on us, but they never forgot about the Fallen Angel and the son of the virgin. Their doors were left cracked, and because of it, a great Reckoning was prophesized. One where Gaia would end or be born anew.