Read Goddess Interrupted Page 12


  “They’re all there,” I said. “All unconscious. Calliope ordered Cronus to go after me, but he refused.” Persephone eyed me dubiously, but James and Ava didn’t question it. “Is that all?” said James. “Did you see anything else?”

  “They know we’re coming,” I said grimly.

  None of them looked all that happy about it, but no one said anything. It was no surprise Calliope knew, not when Cronus had hunted us down, and for now it didn’t matter.

  They weren’t coming after us anymore. We’d lost the element of surprise, but at least we had time to f igure out a plan before we got there.

  James offered me his hand, and I took it, hauling myself to my feet. The forest seemed to spin around me, and I sagged against James while regaining my balance. “It’d be nice if I could control it,” I muttered. “That’d make this a lot easier.”

  “You can,” said Persephone. She leaned against a tree trunk casually, as if people passed out around her all the time. “Since you were mortal before all of this, it’ll probably take you a lot longer to get the hang of it, but you’ll get it eventually.”

  I bit back my retort. No use giving her any reason to march right back to Adonis. “If you know how to do it, then why don’t you tell me so we can use it to our advantage?” I said through a clenched jaw.

  Persephone inspected her nails. “I’ll think about it.” James sighed. “Persephone, please.”

  The two of them exchanged a weighty look, and I scowled. If Persephone knew how to control that kind of power, then the only reason she had not to share it was self ishness. I had her abilities now, the ones she’d given up along with her family, her mother and everything she loved, all for an attractive guy. I knew why she didn’t like me, but that didn’t give her the right to jeopardize our safety.

  Eventually Persephone pushed herself off the tree and started forward, leaving the three of us to catch up. “Fine,” she called in a singsong voice that grated on my nerves. “I’ll teach her when Ava admits I’m prettier than she is.” Ava’s mouth dropped open, and she stormed after her.

  “You little—”

  James offered me his arm, and I shook my head. Disappointment f lickered across his face, but he didn’t press the issue, and instead he walked beside me, close enough to reach out if I needed him. It was nice, his protectiveness, but I kept my eyes on the ground for the rest of the day.

  He’d slept with Persephone, too, and no vision was going to make me forget it.

  Even without trying, Persephone tainted every facet of my life and every person I loved. Like a younger sister whose only things were hand-me-downs, everything I had reeked of her, and nothing was ever going to make the smell go away.

  There was one upside to being with Persephone: our surroundings didn’t change, which meant I didn’t have to endure watching anyone else be tortured. So when I saw the f lashing lights of a colorful carnival in the distance, for a moment I thought I’d lost her, but she was still there, skipping a few yards ahead of me.

  A huge Ferris wheel towered above us, and the smell of popcorn wafted through the air, past the fence and over to the dip in the f ield where we made camp. No matter how many times Persephone insisted she was tired and needed a break, I was positive she’d chosen this spot because of the bright lights and hint of the future she’d never had the chance to see. It hadn’t been her Eden before, and that was the only explanation for why it would be here now. More than anyone down here, she would know how to manipulate her afterlife to see that sort of thing.

  James and I collected wood this time, leaving Ava and Persephone to continue to argue. It would have been easier to let him create kindling for the f ire, but I needed to get away from them, and apparently he did, too. I found another colorful f lower nestled in a grove, and I smiled faintly as I inhaled its cotton-candy scent and placed it in my pocket. Henry was still alive, and no matter how angry Calliope got, she wasn’t going to kill him.

  After collecting an armful of sticks, I lingered near the banner that hung above the entranceway of the carnival, debating whether or not to go inside. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I’d never been to a real carnival before either, and I was itching to see what it was like.

  “I’m sorry,” said James behind me, and I jerked in surprise. A few of the sticks I’d gathered fell to the ground, and as I picked them up, James knelt beside me to help.

  “I’ve got it,” I snapped. James stood and stepped away, but he didn’t leave. Instead he waited until I’d collected the rest, and when I straightened and headed toward another promising patch of tall grass, he followed.

  “I should have told you about me and Persephone,” he said. “If I’d had any idea how you felt about her, I would have, and I’m sorry.”

  “Is this the point where you tell me that it meant nothing?” I said waspishly.

  He paused, as if he were choosing his words carefully.

  “No, it isn’t. While it was happening, it did mean something.”

  I clutched the sticks so tightly that a few of them snapped.

  “You really need to learn when it’s better to lie instead of tell the truth.”

  “Don’t see why,” he said. “Then you’d be mad I wasn’t honest.”

  He was right, of course, but that didn’t make me feel any better. “So what happened?” I said. “What is so appeal-ing about that self ish cow that she had half of the council wrapped around her little f inger?”

  We walked across the f ield, neither of us saying a word as the tinny sound of carnival music f loated through the breeze. Ava and Persephone’s shrieks of outrage and indignation faded into the background until I could almost pretend it was only the three of us: me, James and the giant elephant that followed us.

  “We were friends before she married Henry,” he said at last, after several minutes passed. “She and I were the youngest members of the council at the time, and we got along well. We were close enough in age that neither one of us had been through the rites of passage the rest of them had experienced, and…” He shrugged. “It was easy, that was all.”

  I spotted what looked like a broken tree branch, and I knelt down to pick up the pieces. He joined me, his eyes focused on the ground.

  “When her marriage to Henry started to fall apart, I was there for her,” he said. “I spent a lot of time in the Underworld guiding the dead to the right place, and when she needed a shoulder to cry on, she came to me.” He hesitated. “When Henry offered to let her leave for six months of the year, she jumped at the chance, and we started to spend time together above, as well. One thing turned into another…” He trailed off, and he didn’t need to f inish.

  “How long did it last?” I said as nausea f illed the pit of my stomach. James had been the f irst person to cheat with her. He was closer to Henry than any other member of the council, and he must’ve known what it would do to him, but he’d done it anyway. He’d let Persephone use him like that. He’d done more than let her hurt Henry; he’d helped.

  “A few hundred years,” he said, and he must have seen the look on my face, because he added hastily, “On and off, and only during the spring and summer. Eventually she met Adonis, and that whole mess happened, and I was left in the dust.”

  “Poor you,” I muttered.

  He smiled faintly. I found the last stick in the immediate area, and together we stood. “No, not poor me,” he said.

  “We were always better as friends anyway. Besides, it made working with Henry awkward.”

  It was one thing to sneak around behind Henry’s back, but it was another to have a relationship with his wife when he was fully aware of it. “He knew, and he didn’t try to kill you?”

  “Of course not,” said James, chuckling. I didn’t see what was so funny about it. “Everything’s an open secret with us, Kate. You’ll see eventually.”

  I wasn’t so sure I wanted to anymore, if I managed to make it out of this alive, but it wouldn’t matter anyway. I decided right then and th
ere that if I stayed, if Henry still wanted me here after this mess was cleaned up, I would never cheat on him, not even during the summer. And especially not with James.

  Yet I’d spent my entire six months away with James, hadn’t I? What had for me been a break from the mayhem with a friend could have easily been construed as a romantic vacation by Henry. If he really hadn’t checked in on me the entire time I’d been in Greece with James—

  Oh, god.

  The things Henry must have imagined—my mind reeled, and every emotion I’d started to develop for James vanished.

  “You knew what Greece would look like to him, and you didn’t warn me?”

  James winced. “It didn’t matter. You and I both knew it wasn’t anything more than friends, and if that was what Henry wanted to assume—”

  “Of course it was what he’d assume!” Without thinking, I hurled one of the sticks at James. It glanced harmlessly off his chest, but for once I didn’t care about hurting him. He was a god. He’d get over it, and it was nothing compared to the horror and guilt and shame churning inside me. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? What is it, James? Do you want him to be alone? Do you want him to fade? Do you want to rule the Underworld after all?”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said, bending to pick up the stick I’d thrown. “And I don’t want to hurt Henry, but more than that, I don’t want anyone to hurt you, either.

  You have a choice. A choice, Kate, that no one else is pointing out to you because they don’t see what Henry’s doing to you. He’s hurting you, and there’s no guarantee it’s ever going to get better.”

  His words were a slap in the face, and I choked on my reply. He was saying everything I didn’t want to hear. Everything I was trying so desperately to ignore.

  “It will get better,” I said shakily, fury rising up inside of me until I could taste it. “As soon as he understands that I have no interest in ever being with you, I’m sure he’ll come around.”

  To my immense satisfaction, James winced. “Believe what you want, but your deal with Henry is clear. He has you for six months, no more. You can do whatever you want during the summer, and he has no say in it.”

  “That doesn’t give me the right to break his damn heart.” I stalked off toward camp. “And it doesn’t give you the right to try to make me. I can’t believe you, James. Out of all the nasty things to do, playing me like that—”

  “I wasn’t playing anyone.” He hurried to catch up, and I refused to look at him. “I’m not doing this for fun, Kate.

  You’re the one who invited me to go to Greece, and I said yes because I like spending time with you. And because I wanted to help you see what you’d be missing if you decided to come back. You can’t yell at me for that—I behaved. No matter how badly I wanted to kiss you, I never did.”

  “Don’t say that.” I spun around, and he came within inches of plowing into me. “I’m not Persephone. I’m not going to cheat on Henry no matter what season it is, and I don’t care how much time passes. That isn’t going to change.”

  “What if things never get better?” said James. “What if Henry never loves you the way you deserve? What happened to Persephone…I don’t want to see you repeat her mistakes. You shouldn’t have to go through that kind of pain—you or Henry both. He’s set in his ways, and he’s never going to change. There’s no shame in admitting your marriage isn’t working—”

  “Just because we have some problems doesn’t mean it isn’t working.”

  He sighed. “All I’m saying is that you have a choice, Kate. Understand that, please, and don’t go running in the direction of Henry because you think you can f ix him.”

  “I’m not,” I snarled. “I’m with him because I love him.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be too hard for you to make me a promise,” said James. He was crazy if he thought I was going to promise him anything though. “Think about the possibility of living your own life instead of the life Henry and the rest of the council want you to live—and I don’t mean consider it for half a second. I mean imagine what it’ll be like if Henry never loves you like you love him. Imagine how it’ll feel coming home to a cold bed and a husband who would rather do anything else than spend time with you. Because like it or not, if you stay, that’s a possibility.

  And in return, I’ll stop badgering you.” I opened my mouth to tell him to go screw himself, but nothing came out. Instead my eyes welled up, and before I could stop myself, words f lew from my tongue, tangled and thick and completely out of my control. “You really think it’ll be like that? You think he doesn’t love me?” James pursed his lips and reached out to touch me, but I pulled back. “He loves you, but yes, it’s a possibility he’ll never be there for you the way you want him to be. There’s a risk that this time around, you’d be Henry and he would be Persephone.”

  So I would be the one left yearning for someone who didn’t want me. I wanted to snap and tell James how wrong he was, that I had a pocketful of f lowers to prove it, but I couldn’t. Henry could send me enough presents to f ill the Underworld a hundred times over, and it would never be a substitute for his touch. For the feel of his arms wrapped around me like Adonis had wrapped his around Persephone.

  “All I’m asking is that you really think about whether or not this is the life you want,” said James softly. “If you decide you’d rather not, no one can force you. And I’m not asking that you spend your life with me, either. I just don’t want you to be tied down to someone who doesn’t appreciate you the way you deserve to be. You should be the one in control of your destiny, Kate, not any of us. And especially not Henry.”

  I clutched my pile of sticks to my chest and said around the lump in my throat, “Okay. I’ll think about it. But—stop talking like that, okay? Please. Not when Henry isn’t here to defend himself.”

  James nodded once, and that was enough for me. Taking a shuddering breath, I pulled myself together and squared my shoulders. Henry would have a fair shot. He would have a chance to prove James wrong, and when he did, James’s argument would be obliterated. And everything would be all right again.

  “Did you at least tell Henry nothing happened in Greece?” I said, pleased the edge in my voice was back. I could break down another time.

  His silence was all I needed to hear. With a muted screech, I stormed back toward camp, ignoring the string of apologies James spilled behind me.

  As long as Henry wanted me, I would remain faithful.

  But if he didn’t, if this life together was a chain to him, then the best thing I could do was set him free. At the same time, my mother’s expectations were a heavy burden for me to carry, and thousands of years was a long time to love a single person; it was entirely possible that Henry had the same reservations that held him back. And if he really did believe that James and I had become involved during our trip to Greece, then that was the f irst thing I’d have to set right the moment I had a chance.

  Either way, I loved Henry. Maybe one day he would believe that.

  When I reached camp, I dropped my sticks into the center and sat heavily down on a tree stump. James trailed in after me, and once he’d arranged the kindling into another teepee, he started the f ire. It would be impossible to sleep with the sounds of the carnival in the background, but Persephone didn’t seem to need it, either. Another advantage of dying, I supposed.

  Ava and Persephone continued to bicker, but Ava at least seemed to realize something was wrong, and after another round of retorts, she quit. Persephone tried to egg her on, but once it became clear Ava wasn’t in the mood, Persephone sat on the tree stump next to mine and sulked.

  “How many visions have you had?” said Persephone, and the sticks burst into f lame. James crouched on the ground a few feet away, and through the f ire I could see shadows in the deep lines etched into his face, making him appear years older than he was supposed to look.

  I shrugged. “Three, I think. All to the same place.”

  “Have you be
en able to control them yet?” she said, and I shook my head. “Do they happen at regular intervals?”

  “No.” I stared down at my hands, unable to stomach watching James. “Did you ever sleep with Henry?” Persephone didn’t say anything for a moment, and when I glanced at her, her face looked oddly contorted in the firelight.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to answer.” Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, and she straightened, her expression smoothing out. “Have you?” I nodded. “Once, in March. It’s October now,” I added.

  “I think.”

  Persephone tugged on one of her blond curls and sighed.

  “I used to be able to tell. Even after I died, my hair changed colors with the seasons, but after a while it stopped.” She smiled faintly. “It’s stuck on summer now.” That explained why her hair had been a different color in Henry’s ref lection. “What—what season did it turn strawberry-blond?” I said.

  “Fall,” she said. “It grew redder with the autumn, and in the dead of winter, it was black. It lightened into brown in the spring.”

  Of course. James had explained to me that a ref lection wasn’t an accurate depiction of what had happened. It was whatever the creator wanted. And what Henry wanted was for Persephone to be smiling when she saw him each fall.

  “I didn’t mean to sleep with him,” I said, and I paused.

  “That sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Part of the test was lust, and Henry had me so well-protected that Calliope didn’t have the chance to kill me, so instead she sabotaged the test by giving us an aphrodisiac.”

  Persephone clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “You’ve certainly had it rough, haven’t you?”

  “What do you mean?” I said warily. Was she being sar-castic?

  “Well, I assume you love him,” she said, and I nodded.

  “It’s good you’re there for him. He deserves to have someone who loves him.” She hesitated and said reluctantly, as if she were admitting some deep, dark secret, “I worry about him sometimes. It’s terrible that the one time you’ve been with him had to be because of an aphrodisiac.” She glared at Ava. “Aphrodite ruins everything.”