Electric idol, p.25
Electric Idol, page 25
I don’t give him a chance to flip me. I simply slam his face into the ground once, twice, a third time, and then once more for good measure. He goes limp. My hands are shaking. Why the fuck are my hands shaking? I kneel on his back, torn between ensuring he never gets up again and not wanting to show exactly how monstrous I am while I can feel Psyche watching me. Knowing what I’m capable of is one thing. Seeing it is entirely another.
“Eros!” Her voice is a little muffled by the glass, but there’s no mistaking the fear there. I don’t want to look, don’t want to ever see that fear directed at me again. No matter how much I deserve it—and I do. I’m a fucking mess.
The sound of the booth door opening does what nothing else can; it gets me moving. I shove off the man and move to stand between him and Psyche.
But she’s not looking at him. She stumbles into my arms and clings to me with a strength that takes my breath away. “You idiot. What were you thinking? He could have killed you.”
Shock has my feet growing roots. “He was shooting at you.”
She fists the front of my shirt and looks up at me with shining eyes. “Never do that again. If he shot you, I—”
The elevator doors open, cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. Security personnel spill out into the area. Things happen quickly after that. Once they realize this is a Thirteen-on-Thirteen incident, they take the assassin into custody to await the arrival of Ares’s people to sort things out. I leave my information and hustle Psyche into my car.
She slumps back against the seat, huddling in my coat. She’s sobering up fast, and I hate how scared she looks, but I don’t reach out for fear that she’ll flinch away from me. I turn onto the street and head for my building. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She’s got a white-knuckled grip on my coat. “Did you miss the part where I was worried about you?”
“I had things under control.” When she still looks unconvinced, I try to elaborate. “Even if I didn’t, my mother doesn’t want me dead.”
“All it takes is one bullet and it doesn’t matter what Aphrodite wants.” She closes her eyes but immediately opens them again and rolls down the window a bit. “I’m not sober enough to talk through this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I’m sorry, but only that my mother managed to ruin what was a really good night. We were having fun before this, had carved out a tiny little escape in what was supposed to be a safe space. Psyche met some of my people, let her guard down a tiny bit, and all she got for her trouble was an attempt on her life. “This city is fucking poison.”
“There will be consequences for tonight.” Her eyes are sliding closed again, and this time she doesn’t open them.
“There will,” I say quietly.
Murder isn’t legal in Olympus. Far from it. That doesn’t stop the Thirteen from having people like me who do their dirty work in the shadows, but it’s an unspoken thing. By attacking Psyche in Helen’s building, as she was leaving Helen’s party, my mother has put our shit out in the open—or she will if the attack can even remotely be linked back to her. That’s the big what-if right now. Zeus will get involved because his sister is tangentially involved. Ares will launch an investigation. No doubt Demeter and Persephone will be showing up on my doorstep the second they hear the news, which means Hades is involved as well.
Things were already messy, and they’re only going to get messier.
I should be happy about this, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s going to blow back on me somehow. My mother can be impulsive in the extreme, but she’s not a fool. She’ll have made sure none of this links directly to her—or at least doesn’t directly link only to her.
No, someone else will pay the price for the night’s events. I’m sure of it.
It doesn’t matter how effectively Psyche argued for attending the party tonight. I knew the risk, knew my mother wouldn’t stop. I just foolishly thought I could protect her. I didn’t wager on Aphrodite being so bold as to attack us in Zeus’s sister’s parking garage, and Psyche could have been hurt as a result of my arrogance.
I’ve fucked up.
26
Psyche
I wake up in bed with a pounding headache. The last thing I remember about last night was losing the battle to keep my eyes open in Eros’s car. Which means he carried me to bed. Again. I groan and roll over to find a bottle of Gatorade and Tylenol pills sitting on the nightstand. No note, but why would there be? Eros is far too practical to try to make this gesture romantic.
And yet…it feels romantic.
He’s taking care of me. Without flair, without showy moves. Just a simple act to meet my needs. It’s strange and a little unnerving, and I like it far more than I should.
I manage to sit up and take the pills, and then I detour into the bathroom to brush the terrible taste from my mouth and take a quick shower. By the time I dress and go searching for Eros, I feel halfway human.
I find him in the safe room, pouring over some data on the computer monitors in front of him. He glances over as I walk in, and his small smile does nothing to detract from the circles beneath his blue eyes. I stop. “Have you slept at all?”
“No time.” He turns back to the monitors. “We already have a summons from Perseus—Zeus—for later this morning. I know we wanted to hold him in reserve as a last resort, but that ship has sailed, and honestly, if he hadn’t summoned me, I would have called him and arranged a meeting.”
Because Aphrodite has escalated things. I think a part of me still believed she was bluffing until now. She’s not, which means we need bigger guns than either Eros or I can bring to the fight. I take a slow breath. “What’s the plan?”
“There’s no hope of keeping this under wraps. Even if the assassin doesn’t talk, we have to tell the truth or risk the entirety of the Thirteen coming down on us, which would put all our shit public. At least Zeus has motivation to find a solution behind closed doors.”
The sinking in my chest is reflected in his face. “He’s not going to side with us against Aphrodite. She’s one of the Thirteen.”
“There are specific laws within the Thirteen against going after the others and their families. That’s what we’ll play on.” Eros sighs. “If it were the old Zeus, I’d agree with you that it’s a long shot. But even if we’re not really friends anymore, I’ve known Perseus since we were kids. He’s not going to let my mother get away with this.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’ll decide that the stability of Olympus is worth more than our lives.”
“He won’t let her kill you. No matter what else is true, Perseus isn’t his father. Trust me, even if you don’t trust him. We’ll see what he has to say and go from there.” Eros glances at his watch. “We need to leave in two hours.”
I don’t know how he can be so calm when something truly disastrous is welling up inside me. I have to get some distance between us, to move and expel some of this awful feeling inside me. The longer I stand here, the more the events of last night wash over me in waves. The fear when that man raised the gun and pointed it at my face, the horrible knowledge that the glass wouldn’t hold forever… It was nothing compared to the terror I felt when Eros appeared and tackled the guy.
By nature, I face hard truths. I might lie to most people in this city, but I can’t survive by lying to myself. I know what that fear means, even if I’m not ready to admit it to myself. “I have to go.”
He jerks like I’ve struck him. “What? You can’t leave.”
“Not leave. Go.” I’m not making sense. I know I’m not making sense, but I can’t seem to help myself. Panic is clawing its way up my throat. I back through the door. “I just… I can’t.”
“Psyche, wait.” Eros, my terrifying monster of a man, actually looks concerned about me, which only makes my panic worse. When did I start looking at him like a man and not an opponent? It’s too much. It’s certainly too soon.
I keep backing away, and he keeps following me, still looking confused and concerned. At least he keeps his distance, but it’s not nearly enough for my state of mind. “Talk to me.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do this.”
He shadows me down the hall, keeping a careful distance between us even as he reaches for me. “We’ll find a way through. Her people won’t touch you.”
But they won’t have to, will they? A hysterical laugh bubbles free. Aphrodite won’t have to take my heart, because Eros is in danger of completing that mission already. He doesn’t need my literal heart in his hands to crush me beyond repair. He’s already too close, too overwhelming, too damn much. I back into the foyer, the room of mirrors, and jerk to a stop when faced with dozens of our reflections bounced across every available surface. “Eros, I—”
He moves faster than I expect and grabs my hands. A light touch, but I already know that if I yank against his hold, I won’t be able to get free. “Please,” I whisper.
“Talk to me,” he repeats. “I can’t fight what I can’t see.”
Oh gods, I really am falling in love with this man. I close my eyes and a single tear slips free. I can’t control how I feel—I’ve already more than proven that—but at least I don’t have to tell him. I don’t know how he’d react, and I honestly can’t stand the thought of coldness creeping into Eros’s eyes in response.
Instead, I choose a different truth. “I’m scared.”
He looks actually pained. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I should have expected her to strike like that, and I didn’t. It won’t happen again. I realize that you have no reason to trust me because of what I am, but…”
“Because of what you are,” I repeat. My fear welds itself into a fierce anger, the emotion so strong my entire body shakes. “What are you, Eros?”
He releases my wrist and takes a step back. The mirrors surrounding us show our images from all directions, and there’s something apt about that, but I’m too focused on the man in front of me to chase the thought down. He looks away, but his attention snags on the reflection in the nearest mirror and he grimaces. “You know what I am.”
“Indulge me.”
His lips curve, but his eyes aren’t happy. He flings a hand at the mirror to his right. “Failure.” The mirror to his left. “Murderer.” The one behind him. “Monster.”
“Eros,” I whisper. He’s talked about being a monster more than a few times, and while I can admit that his past actions have been monstrous, I hate that he takes all the blame for it and ignores the conditions that brought him to that point. I can’t change his mind. I’m not even sure if I should try.
But after what happened in that parking garage, I can’t help but want to.
“You can’t leave.” He matches my low tone. “I’m sure you don’t want to see my face right now, but this is the only place in Olympus I know you’re safe from my mother. So… Please. Please don’t leave.”
“Eros,” I repeat. “Would you like to know what I see when I look at you?”
He flinches. This cold, arrogant man flinches at my question. “I suppose it’s the least I can do after everything I’ve put you through.”
Oh, Eros.
I slip my hand into his. He’s so tense, I can tell he’s fighting not to pull away from me, to retreat to something resembling a safer distance. I turn us to face the mirror next to the front door. Eros is trying to shut down his expression, but he still looks pained as I take a deep breath. “I see someone loyal.”
His hand spasms in mine. “Psyche—”
“I’m not finished.” I turn us one mirror to the right. “I see someone ambitious.”
“I don’t know if that’s really a virtue,” he mutters.
But he allows me to move us to face the next mirror. “I see someone both clever and intelligent.”
“Those are the same things.”
“They’re really not.”
He gives me a tormented look. “Why are you doing this?”
Because I love you. I swallow hard. “Because you have only been told the negative about yourself for so long, that’s all you believe. Every person contains a balance of both good and bad inside them. Even you. Especially you.”
“Psyche…” He looks down at me like he’s never seen me before. “I don’t deserve you.”
That fierce feeling inside me gets stronger. “I think we’ve established that I’m a flawed human being, the same as you.”
“No. Not the same.” He turns me to face the mirrors and steps behind me. We look good like this, even with him a little wild around the eyes and me shaking like a leaf. I never would have lined us up as a couple that fits, but our time together has more than proved me wrong.
Eros winds my hair around a fist, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?”
I open my mouth to make a joke, but the words die before they leave my tongue. I lick my lips. “This isn’t about me.”
“Wrong, beautiful girl. It’s always been about you.” He drags in a breath, and I can feel the fine tremors in his body where he presses against my back. Eros speaks so softly, I almost miss the words. “I see a woman I don’t deserve, but you make me want to be a better man so that one day I might deserve you. I see a goddess.”
I turn in his arms. The words I promised myself I wouldn’t say bubble up, and I do the only thing I can think of to keep them inside. I kiss him. The moment my lips touch Eros’s, it’s as if something explodes between us. He uses his hold in my hair to tilt my head back and take the kiss deeper. I will never, ever get enough of kissing Eros. He turns it into an art form, an intoxicating connection that goes straight to my head.
He breaks the kiss long enough to say, “I need you, Wife.”
“Yes.” I grab the hem of his shirt and push it up and over his head. “I need you, too.”
“You have me.” But he grabs my hands, stopping me from undoing the front of his pants. “Wait. Condom.”
That’s the smart, rational thing to consider, but I don’t want to be smart or rational right now. “I know we said we wouldn’t make this decision in the heat of the moment, but I don’t want to use a condom.” I hesitate. “Unless you want to.”
There’s that fine tremor again in his hands where they bracket my wrists. “Be sure.”
I don’t care if it’s reckless; I’m already nodding. “I don’t want anything between us. I just want you.”
He takes me at my word. Eros reclaims my mouth as he gets busy stripping me out of my underwear and bra. His pants hit the floor a mere moment later and then his naked body is against mine, the delicious slide of his skin against mine going straight to my head. I dig my hands into his curls and tug, pulling him down to the floor on top of me.
I only get to enjoy the feeling of his weight pressing me against the cool marble floor for a moment before he pushes back to kneel between my spread legs. The expression on his face… I don’t doubt for a moment that he sees me as the goddess he claims. My self-esteem is pretty healthy, but when Eros looks at me with such intensity, I feel like I could walk on water.
I want to give him the same feeling. I start to reach for him, but he gives a sharp shake of his head. “Not yet. If you touch me right now, I’m going to be inside you in the next breath.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He shakes his head again. “Not yet,” he repeats. Eros coasts his hands up my thighs, pressing them wide, continuing his path until he reaches my pussy. He presses two fingers into me and curses. “You’re so fucking wet.”
“You do that to me,” I gasp, arching my back as he twists his wrist and strokes his fingertips against my G-spot. “More!”
“I’ll give you more, Wife. I’ll give you everything you need.” He doesn’t pick up his pace, though, and when I try to dig my heels into the ground to lift my hips, he plants a hand on my lower stomach to keep me exactly where he wants me. It feels so good, and it’s only made hotter by how closely he watches me.
Eros turns his head. “Look.”
I follow his gaze to find our reflections in the mirror. It’s sexy to have him kneeling over me, strumming my pleasure higher and higher, but seeing it as if someone else were watching us? I almost combust on the spot. And then Eros starts circling my clit with his thumb and I do combust.
He barely lets me finish coming before he guides me onto my stomach and then up onto my hands and knees. “I see you have a bit of an exhibitionist streak.” He strokes a hand down my spine and I moan in response. “Or it is a voyeuristic streak?”
“Both.” I lift my head to watch him shift behind me, his hands finding my hips and urging me into the position he wants me. I can’t catch my breath, but I don’t care. “But only with you. Only like this.” A show performed and witnessed by only us.
“Good.” The word is almost a growl. “I don’t want to share you, beautiful girl.”
“I don’t want to share you, either.” Not any part of this. Not with anyone else.
He closes his eyes for a beat. “Last chance, Psyche. Are you sure?”
No need to ask what he means. “No condom,” I confirm.
Eros doesn’t ask again. He shifts forward, guiding his cock to my entrance. I hold perfectly still, staring at the tormented expression on his face as he sinks into me, inch by inch. “You’re so beautiful,” I whisper.
He laughs a little, the sound choked. “It’s only…” He drags in a breath. “I feel like it’s the truth when you look at me like that.”
“It is the truth.”
He reclaims my hips and begins moving, sliding in and out of me in long, smooth strokes. It feels so good, I can barely keep my eyes open, wouldn’t be able to if not for the show we’re putting on for an audience of two. Eros puts every muscle on his impressive body to use, all with the intention of bringing me the most amount of pleasure. Before I can fully sink into the rhythm of his thrusts, he bends to brace one hand on the floor next to mine, and slides his other down my stomach to stroke my clit. “Dirty girl,” he murmurs against my skin. “You complain about all the mirrors as if you don’t get off on me fucking you in front of them.”
