The death she’d suffer after would be miles worse than what I have planned for her.
Not to mention what will happen to me if I fuck this up. Athena doesn’t suffer failures any more than she suffers fools. There’s a marked difference between the circumstances ending in failure, and willfully allowing a mark to escape. One will get a reprimand. The other? I shudder.
No, there is no choice. No other option.
I hold my breath as she stops in the doorway. She swirls the red wine, staring at it contemplatively, and finally lifts it to her lips. The glass stops just before she makes contact. “You can come out now. I know you’re there.”
Fuck.
CHAPTER 3
CALYPSO
I’ve made a grave miscalculation. I’d begun to suspect my time with Odysseus was coming to an end. He liked the idea of having a mistress more than he liked dealing with me as an actual person, and his wife was understandably not thrilled to have him parading me to all their normal spots. I’d argued against being so bold, but Odysseus is always so sure he’s the smartest man in the room. He wouldn’t listen.
Now someone’s decided to take care of his mistress problem the old-fashioned way.
I eye the dark hallway, where I can almost make out the tall form of someone standing there, a vague impression of broad shoulders, but everything else in shadow. I lift my brows. They haven’t attacked, which is a small miracle.
I might get out of this mess yet.
I lift the glass and swirl the contents. “It was a good move with the wine. I must have surprised you when I came back into the kitchen, though, because you didn’t place the bottle exactly where I’d left it.” A small taste had confirmed the wine was tampered with, though I don’t know if I would have caught it if I wasn’t looking for it. Frustration had me opening the bottle early and I’m just tipsy enough to not have caught the taste being off.
They don’t answer, but they also don’t move. I have to talk fast to derail whatever their plans are. Common knowledge says humanizing yourself to an attacker or kidnapper is the way to go, but I have my doubts about that. The man I’ve been sleeping with for seven months barely sees me as a person. All my life, people have sought to use or possess me, the same way one uses or possesses a priceless vase or a painting. Not a person. Why would this assassin be any different?
“Did his wife send you?” I wouldn’t put it past Penelope. She’s too smart to believe her husband would leave me if she cornered him, so it’s a ruthless and smart move to go around him. I didn’t anticipate her being willing to murder, but people have killed for less.
I don’t honestly expect an answer, but I get one all the same. “No.” Their voice is low and almost agonized. “Not her.”
Not the wife. Then… “Oh,” I say faintly. Gods, I didn’t expect that. Or for it to hurt so much.
I knew I was taking a risk allowing Odysseus to seduce me and shower me with gifts and this apartment and all the rest. I foolishly thought I could get out unscathed. I should have known better. I certainly flew too close to the sun with this one. “I suppose that’s one way to end a relationship.” I reach out with a shaking hand to set the wine on the dresser.
I realize my mistake of turning my back to the door too late. I try to spin back around, but I’m immediately wrapped up in a strong grip, pinning my arms to my body.
“Let go.” I fight, but they’ve got me in too tight a hold.
“Stop struggling,” they mutter.
“I think not.” It won’t make a difference. They’re too strong. Too big. I almost get twisted to see their face when they shift suddenly and cover my eyes with calloused hands. I go still. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t see me.”
I blink against their palms, my brain trying to kick into gear even as fear and panic surge inside me. I fight it down through sheer practice. To panic is to die. That metaphorical rule has become terrifying literal in this moment. “Blindfold me.”
“What?”
It’s a gamble and not even a good one, but I’ll take whatever hesitance I can capitalize on. “Blindfold me. I promise I won’t take it off. If you don’t want me to see you, then I won’t look.”
“It’s not that simple.” But they’re waffling. “This has all gone so wrong.”
I huff out a laugh. “While I sympathize, I think between the two of us that my night is going worse than yours. I just found out that the man I slept with less than twenty-four hours ago hired an assassin to kill me.” I shake my head, their hands following the movement and continuing to block my sight. “I really shouldn’t have given him the satisfaction of faking it.”