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?”