Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1) (Good god series) (10 page)

Something is amiss
, she realized as she looked around the room. All eyes were on her, and a few gods whispered to each other. Ares’ eyes were dark, his jaw set, and Hera looked pleased, which was a bad omen. Her eyes found Hephaestus’, blue and bright in his tan face, and her heart jumped when she realized his expression was one of apology.

Zeus straightened up. “Aphrodite,” he called, his voice echoing in the expansive, marble space.

She walked to Zeus, lifted her chin, and braced herself.

He looked down at her with stern eyes. “As you know, we all grow weary of the hostility between the gods over you. It seems that only a few are immune to your charms, though the ones who are not have caused enough problems for the lot.”

“I am as vexed by the fact as you are, Zeus.”

“I very much doubt that. It cannot continue, and so I have decided that you will marry.”

The gods murmured together, filling the throne room with their echoes. Aphrodite painted her face into a placid mask as her heart fluttered like bird wings in her chest.
 

Ares stood as if to accept, and all eyes flew to him.

“Sit down, boy. You could not be so foolish as to think that you would be the one I would choose for her husband,” Zeus scoffed.

Ares chest rose, his teeth bared. “You cannot do this, Zeus.”
 

A cloud passed over Zeus’ gray eyes, and he rose, growing taller, menacing as the room dimmed and thunder boomed with his voice in the sweeping space. “You dare tell me what I can and cannot do? It is in part because of
you
that I must do this. You bloodying the eye or nose of any god or mortal who glances at her is tiresome and churlish. The feuding ends, and it ends now. Do not defy me, and do not forget how you have been punished in the past for your arrogance, because this time, not even your mother will save you from me.”

Hera sat in Zeus’ shadow, her brows pinched together, her bottom lip between her teeth as she leaned forward with her eyes on Ares.

Aphrodite watched as the gods stared each other down, tense and taught as a bow string. Ares’ forearms twitched in his leather cuffs as he tightened his fist, then sat slowly, the red plume in his helmet trembling alongside his rage. Once Ares was seated with his eyes locked on her, Zeus sat as well. The room returned to soft daylight as he shifted his attention back to her.

“There is only one god who I would trust to bear the responsibility. He is steady and true, dependable and respectful. He will take care of you.”

“I do not need to be taken care of.”

“Someone must keep you under control.”

“No one can control me.” Her rage twisted around her heart.

“It will be done, and you will not disobey. You will marry Hephaestus.”

The room erupted in noise, and Hephaestus rose, strong and sure, his eyes begging her to understand, but she could not. She would not.

Aphrodite stood alone before the thrones of the gods, still as stone, her fury rolling through her like thunder.

“Do you believe, Zeus, that you could hold me back? That you could strip me of the power that is mine by marrying me off? I am older than you, older than all of you,” she said, sweeping her hand across the room. “You are children, and I am the daughter of Uranus, father of the sky, grandfather of Zeus. Of all of you, I am entitled to the seat of power over Zeus.” Zeus slapped the arm of his throne, and Aphrodite held out a hand to stay him. “I do not want the throne. If I did, it would be mine. But your insolence is insulting.”

The air moved around her, her wrath just under the surface, her white-hot, glowing eyes never breaking from his. The wind stirred the soft waves at her back and the petals of the roses in her crown.

Her eyes were narrow as she continued. “Are you sure that this is what you wish? Because I will not forget. This goes against all that I stand for. I do not love Hephaestus, and he does not love me.”

“You will learn to love each other.”

She fought to hold herself back. “As you have done with Hera?” A few gasps and laughs rolled through the gods, but Zeus was not amused.

“Do you mock me?”

“Why would you ask a question to which you know the answer?”

Zeus stood, and she would have been afraid, had she not been so angry.
 

“I will do your bidding,” she continued before he could speak, “but not without consequence.”

“Do you threaten me, Aphrodite?”

“I promise.”

His jaw flexed, but his voice was dismissive. “We shall see. Do not dare disobey me. I will not be gentle.”

Aphrodite turned on her heel and flew from the throne room with all eyes on her and Persephone in her wake, her fists so tight that her fingernails bit into her palms. When she reached her heavy door, she pushed it open and slammed it behind her with a savage scream.
 

She turned to exhibit her fury on everything in her chambers, smashing pots and ripping tapestries from the walls, roaring. She climbed on her bed and tore the curtains down, shredding them before slashing her bedding to ribbons.

Persephone waited until Aphrodite caused sufficient damage and collapsed on the bed crying before silently restoring the destruction. When the room was back in order, she climbed into bed with her friend.

Aphrodite wrapped her arms around Persephone’s waist. “I will never forgive him. Never,” she whispered as Persephone stroked her hair, her tears falling as her rage ebbed, and resentment took its place.

She had kept her promise. Zeus was the original philanderer, the first womanizer, largely due to her influence on him, though the job was made easy by the fact that he was an egomaniacal douche who was married to a vain harpy.

To add insult to injury, Zeus forced her to move to Hephaestus’ workshop to live with him there.
As a wife would live with a husband
, he had said. Hephaestus gave her a break and made a space for her just above his home, knowing how she hated the confined spaces underground, and knowing how she resented their marriage.

Dita swore before they were married that she would never love Hephaestus, vowing that she would never know him and would never let him know her. She would never give him her body or soul, blaming him for being the catalyst in a situation that objectified her and forced her into a construct to which she didn’t subscribe. So she carried on her love affairs as she wished, and he complied, never forcing her, giving her whatever space she needed. He’d always respected her wishes, even though it went against the sanctity of their marriage, knowing she felt the whole thing was a sham.

Over the ages, she had gotten to know Heff, despite her best efforts. He loved her, she knew, and in her way, she loved him too. He was thoughtful and caring, though strong willed when something mattered to him. He would be whatever she needed whenever she needed it, be it friend, protector, lover, or husband, but she had only called on him to be a friend and liked to think that she had given that back to him, at least.

Dita watched Heff’s big hands as he lifted the keypad by its face and pushed it back into the wall.
 

She smiled as she lay in one of the many gifts he’d made for her. Her most coveted possession was Bisoux, and second in line was her infinity closet. But the runner up was a corset Heff created that made her irresistible to any man. Not that she needed much help in that department, but it never hurt. She looked amazing in it.

Heff tightened the last screw and stood. “Okay, Dita. Let’s give it a whirl.”

She unfolded herself from the pillows and trotted to the doorway where Heff leaned against the frame. He nearly filled it, and didn’t move when she approached, just smiled down at her as she pressed her body against his to squeeze by. All she could smell was smoke and fire as her cheek brushed against his chest.
 

“You’re impossible.” She giggled at him, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks went hot.

Heff winked, then turned to the keypad and punched out a sequence of numbers. Dita’s hair stirred as the closet spun around again and landed on 1500 AD. Renaissance gowns hung along every wall, and lavish jewelry and crowns were displayed in cases. He crossed his arms over his chest with a satisfied look on his face.

“Thank you, Heff.” She laid her hands on his wide shoulders and reached up on her tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. His cheeks flushed hard under his beard.
 

“No problem. Need anything else while I’m here?” He smiled sideways.
 

She shook her head. “That was it. Really, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Dita. I’ll see you later.” His eyes lingered on her once more before he turned to leave.
 

She walked over to the doorframe and leaned against it as she watched Heff limp out. The gods would have all treated him as second-class, if it weren’t for his beautiful mind. None of the other gods had any physical flaws, but she had to admit that he was just as exquisite as all the rest.

Travis walked up the steps to his apartment, exhausted, but stoked. He couldn’t believe his luck, getting into the Paper Fools, and he was ecstatic about it. All the guys were friendly enough, and he was already familiar with their songs, so picking them up was going fast. He didn’t think it would be long before they were ready to hit the studio.
 

A smile stretched across his face. He was going to be on an album, something he’d almost given up on after being stuck with Spike for as long as he had been.

He unlocked the door and made his way inside, tossing his keys in the dish on the table. He stretched as he walked into his bedroom, and Lex looked up from their bed with a smile. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she laid the book she was reading down in her lap.

“Hey. How was practice?”

“It went really well.” He pulled his shirt over his head and threw it into the laundry basket in the closet. “I met Dean, the lead singer today, but he didn’t say much. Kevin, he plays keys, is hilarious. He’s the ultimate nerd, and I’m pretty sure he weighs less than a twelve-year-old girl. Oh, get this—apparently the last drummer left because Dean boned the guy’s girlfriend.”

“What?” Her nose wrinkled. “Man, that is low.”

Travis laughed. “Kevin called him Professor Panty Dropper.”

Lex laughed so loud, Travis figured it was more of a cackle. “Oh, my god. That’s hilarious.”

“Right? They actually told me not to bring you to practice.”

She shook her head and picked up her book. “Like I’d be that weak.”

Travis pulled his jeans off and walked into the bathroom to turn on the shower. He reached in and turned it all the way to hot, then walked back into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed next to Lex. “Yeah, Kevin said the guy’s never had a girlfriend, and that it’s never the same girl twice. I don’t know, though. I can’t get a read on him. He seems like the kind of guy that doesn’t have problems getting chicks, but if he never actually dates any of them, that’s kind of weird, right?”

“I don’t know many good looking guys in their late twenties that have never had a girlfriend.”

“Yeah. But, he writes all their lyrics, and between that and what Kevin told me, it seems like he’s got some serious baggage.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, he kind of sounds like a prick.”

“I’m sure he’s not. He’s just got issues. Everybody’s got issues.”
 

Her brow dropped a bit, and a shadow passed over her face. “It’s true,” she said, then shook herself and smiled. “So, what’s the deal with this band? I mean, are you rich now? Because I could really use a sugar daddy.”

He laughed. “Not quite rich, but Roe gave me an advance from the signing bonus, so I called and quit the restaurant. Can’t say I’m bummed I won’t be waiting tables anymore.”

“Travis, that’s amazing. Sounds like they’re a huge step up from Spike.”

“Uh, yeah. I can’t say I was sad to quit Spike either.”

“Kara will be absolutely
crushed
.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He rolled off the bed, then walked into the bathroom and slipped into the hot water.