Page 23 of Dark Restraint
Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t on the list. “Excuse me?”
“The Minotaur. He’s got quite the fascination with you, bordering on obsession. He spent all of yesterday following me around, so I thought it important that he and I have a chat.”
None of those words makes sense in the order that he put them in. “He doesn’t chat.” At least not with anyone who isn’t me.
“Yes, well, I may or may not have dosed him with a little something to loosen his tongue.”
I blink. “You drugged him?”
“Only a smidge.” He holds up his thumb and forefinger with the barest width between them. “It wore off within an hour, with no long-term side effects. I can’t speak for his blood pressure, though. He wasn’t very happy with me when he realized what I’d done.”
I can only imagine. Asterion doesn’t like to be out of control. He drinks, but never to excess. I don’t think he’s ever done drugs in his life, or at least not in the time I’ve known him. “I’m surprised he didn’t kill you.”
“He thought about it.” Dionysus sounds entirely too gleeful. “Despite all appearances to the contrary, I’m not a fool, so I didn’t give him a chance to act on his more violent impulses. But we’re getting away from the point. While he’s still appearing to dance to your father’s tune, he has an unhealthy obsession with you.”
There’s a part of me that knew that to be true. Don’t I feel exactly the same way? From the moment I saw him, I felt an instant and unexplainable connection. I still don’t know how to define it. It’s as if there’s a vibrating cord that connects my heart to his, and every time I see him, it thrums in my chest. I knew he wanted me. But he owes everything to my father. More importantly, I betrayed Asterion. If there was ever a chance of him choosing me over my father, I killed it with my own choices.
I clear my throat. “My father commanded him to kill me.”
“I see.” Dionysus finally picks up his mimosa and drains the first glass. I’m not quite sure how he manages that with the bubbles. I’d be impressed if I didn’t feel so twisted up inside. He nudges a plate piled high with pancakes toward me. “I won’t pretend there’s nothing to fear. We’re experiencing a scary moment as a city, and it’s only going to get scarier as time goes on. But I’ll protect you from him.”
It’s sweet that he offers, but it’s an impossible task. Asterion proved on the first night that he can get to me anytime he wants to. The only reason I’m alive is probably because he still needs those blueprints.
I don’t know if Dionysus knows about the blueprints, though. So instead of answering, I just smile and take a bite of my pancakes. They’re the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten, but I can’t really enjoy them because it feels like they turn to lead in my stomach. I feel pulled in a thousand different directions. No, that’s a lie. The only pull I feel is for a man I can never have. One who’s dangerous, not just to other people but to me.
“I have to be honest with you, Ariadne. While I did want to chat about your stalker problem, this is a bit of an ambush.” He must see the panic on my face because he holds up both hands. “That was a poor choice of words. You’re not in any danger. I promise. But it’s been brought to my attention that you were tasked with providing the Minotaur with something specific. Since Hera has chosen to intervene, that means you’ve been co-opted into our little…”
“The word you’re looking for is coup.”
For the second time in as many days, Hera’s appearance startles the shit out of me. This time, I can’t keep my reaction locked down. I slide all the way to the end of the booth and nearly hit the wall. Because she’s not alone.
At her shoulder stands a massive white man with a shock of red hair and shoulders even wider than Asterion’s. Poseidon. I recognize him from my father’s files; he looks even bigger in person, as if he could cart around shipping containers with his bare hands. He doesn’t seem particularly happy to be here.
Hera flicks her wrist, and Dionysus slides farther into the booth to make room for her. Unfortunately, that leaves Poseidon to sit next to me. I can’t help cowering a little. He looks different from his pictures, more worn down and haggard. He’s attractive enough in an earthy kind of way, but everything I read about this man says that he prefers to keep to his shipyard and avoid politics. As one of the legacy titles, he never had to jockey for a position. He might have inherited it unexpectedly when his uncle and cousins died from some kind of sickness—the details escape me—but he was always part of that family. He always had power. The fact that he’s here doesn’t bode well.
Hera, of course, looks immaculate. She’s wearing tailored slacks and a lace top that’s just shy of inappropriate. Both in black, of course. She eyes the spread of food before us and then plucks an untouched mimosa from Dionysus’s flight. “You’ve brought her up to speed. Good.”
The shock of their appearance slowed me down, but I’m just beginning to register what she said. Coup. I already knew she wanted her husband dead. But for her to be saying as much here, in the presence of two other members of the Thirteen? They have to be in on it.
Guess I’m not betraying Dionysus after all.
“I was just getting to the important part.” Some of Dionysus’s glow seems to dim, and he turns serious dark eyes on me. “You see, for the moment it appears that your father’s aims and ours are in alignment. While we have no intention of telling him that, there’s no reason not to use it to our advantage.”
I glance at Poseidon again, but he’s glowering at my stack of pancakes as if it insulted him personally. I clear my throat. “You as well?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Poseidon.” Hera’s tone is almost cheerful…as long as you don’t notice the sharp edge beneath it. “Play nice.”
He sighs and his big shoulders drop. “This mess isn’t figuring itself out. Following Zeus has gotten us to this point. It’s time to make some changes.”
“You met with the Minotaur last night.”
I search Hera’s face for some indication that she knows exactly what I spent hours doing with Asterion in that apartment. If she’s aware of how quickly I folded without any kind of actual pressure from him. If she is, she keeps it to herself. I lift my mimosa with a shaking hand and take a quick sip. The bubbles burn my throat. “Yes.”
“Did you convey my message?”
Shit. I completely forgot. I want to say it was panic that made it happen, but the truth is that as soon as Asterion touched me, I wasn’t thinking about anything but him. I take another hasty sip. My head feels just as full of bubbles as my stomach. “No. I wasn’t able to get the blueprints. It was a rookie mistake, but I was looking for them in the wrong place.” I debate leaving it there, but if she’s following me, then she’ll figure it out anyway. “I have a meeting with him in three days—two now, actually. I’ll have the blueprints by then and be able to deliver them with your message.”