Antigoddess - Page 50/112


Athena sighed.

“Fine. Go on ahead. But be careful. And don’t do anything until we get there. We won’t be more than three days behind.”

“Absolutely.” He smirked and walked away toward where Mareden and Estelle waited. Their eyes were dry, finally, and their faces lit with tenuous hope. They had been certain that Bethe, Harper, and Jenna had somehow been killed too. When Hermes got to them, they each stood to one side and slung an arm around his neck. Only Mareden looked back at Athena, and when she did it was without expression.

* * *

“Aren’t you worried we’re getting lost?” Odysseus asked. They’d been walking for two hours and had left the Palos Park Woods. The going was easier for a stretch as they crossed over highways, but then they’d gone back into the trees. It was full dark and the sky overhead hung a dull, overcast black. Light in the forest was basically nonexistent. Odysseus kept close to Athena. She did her best to pick the path with the least obstructions, but it was a miracle he hadn’t gone face-first over a root.

“How do you know we’re going the right direction?”

“I just know.”

“But how? There’s no moon, and no visible stars. And it feels like we’re traveling in a curve.” He adjusted his pack on his shoulders. “Don’t you think we should pop out of these trees and check? How can you see in this? I’m going to end up arse over ears.”

Athena groaned. “You’re worse than Hermes.”

“Well, I’m only saying.”

“Don’t question me. I’m a god. Dammit.” She turned back and saw him smile in the dark.

“You could just piggyback me, you know.”

“Is the great Odysseus getting tired?”

“Not in a thousand years. It’d be faster is all. During that uphill stretch I was halfway to jumping on without asking.”

He reached forward and managed to slip his finger through one of her belt loops. She froze like he’d stabbed her with an ice pick and slapped his hand away. The grin fell off his face in the span of a second.

Athena blanched. “Sorry.” Grabbing her belt loop had been a harmless gesture, meant to keep him on the right track and on his feet rather than facedown in dirt and ferns.

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing like being smacked away like a three year old to remind you of your place.”

“Don’t be like that.” She watched him. He didn’t hide his facial expressions in the dark like he did in the light. The embarrassment and disappointment on his features were plain. He shook his head.

“I’m not. Like anything. It’s just been a long time. I thought you might’ve loosened up.”

“Don’t count on it.”

He smiled. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it. I feel like I know you, is all. Like I’ve known you for a long time. Ever since Brighton Beach, getting my memories back—I guess it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

He made her feel guiltier by the second. “I do feel the same way. I have known you. For a long time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been alive these few thousand years. What do my two lives matter to you?”

“Will you shut up? They matter plenty. When I saw you back at The Three Sisters I thought—” She paused as the smirk broke through his cheeks, then laughed. “You still can’t touch me.”

“But you’re still my goddess?”

“Because I’m still your goddess. Now keep moving.” As she turned, she caught a flash of disappointment cross his face. That was real. She’d seen him through so many things in the past. She’d seen him sad to the point of madness, seen him sulk when his pride was wounded. But she’d never seen that look before.

I’ve never seen that look from anyone.

“Wait.”

“What?” He tensed, thinking she’d heard something. She lifted her hand toward his face curiously. Her fingers traced the air along his neck and shoulders. She could feel the heat of his skin.

An image of the red room at The Three Sisters rose in her head, adorned with satin and crystal beads. The sounds of his breathing as he lay on the bed, still dazed. None of his lovers in his previous life had ever wanted to let him go. Circe had kept him for a year. The sea goddess Calypso had kept him for seven and would have married him if Athena hadn’t demanded his release.

She looked at him in the dark. Could he really be so much better than any other? What was it about him? What did his lips feel like, parted against your neck, or grazing along your shoulders? How did his arms feel when they crushed you against his chest?