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1
Cassandra
I hate parties, Olympus, and politics…but not necessarily in that order. I can avoid two out of the three on good days, but today is promising to be a bad one. It started this morning when I spilled my coffee all over Apollo’s shirt. A rookie mistake, and one that might get me fired if my boss was anyone other than Apollo. He just gave a small smile, assured me it was his fault when it was clearly mine, and changed into the spare suit he kept in his office.
He should have yelled at me.
I’ve worked for the man for five years now, and even that isn’t enough time to stop expecting the other shoe to drop. He’s hardly perfect—he’s one of the Thirteen who rule Olympus, after all, and there are no saints among them—but he’s the best of the bunch. He’s never abused his power over me, never turned his position as my boss into an excuse to be a petty tyrant, has never even raised his voice no matter how thoroughly I’ve fucked up from time to time.
I shove my hair back, hating that I can feel sweat slicking down my back as I climb the last flight of stairs. Something is wrong with the elevator in Dodona Tower and for reasons that seem suspect, it only goes halfway up the tower. I glare down at the file in my hand. I should have just left it alone when I realized Apollo forgot it when he rushed out the door for his meeting with Zeus. He’s an adult and is more than capable of dealing with the consequences of forgetting an important file for an important meeting.
But…he didn’t yell at me. And so I’m here.
No one who knows me would call me a bleeding heart—more like a cold-hearted bitch—so I have absolutely no reason to have caught a cab to the center of the upper city, taken the elevator halfway up, and then proceeded to climb the rest of the thirty floors on foot.
In six-inch heels, no less.
There’s something wrong with me. There must be. Maybe I have a fever.
I press the back of my hand to my forehead, and then feel extra foolish because of course I feel overheated. I just did more exercise than I would ever intentionally commit to unless running for my life. And even then, I’d fight before I ran.
I curse myself for the millionth time as I push through the stairwell door and out into the hallway where Zeus’s office is located. Then I get a look at my reflection in the massive mirror next to the elevator. “Oh no.”
My red hair has gone flat, there’s a sweat stain darkening the line under my breasts—which means there’s an answering one down my spine—and I’m shiny. In a city obsessed with appearances, I can’t let anyone see me like this.
“Fuck this, he doesn’t need the file that bad.” I turn for the elevator…and then remember that to flee, I have to make the return trip down fifteen flights of stairs. My thighs shake at the thought. Or maybe they’re shaking from the climb.
Does it count as a workplace accident if I fall down the stairs on an errand I technically wasn’t asked to do? Apollo would probably find some way to blame himself and pay for my medical bills, but getting hurt like that means no paycheck and no paycheck means Alexandra might not have the money she needs to buy books or school supplies or all the other random shit being at university requires. I can’t risk an injury, even if it means I’m humiliated in the process.
“Cassandra?”
I curse myself yet again and turn to face the gorgeous white woman with light brown hair walking down the hallway. Ares is her name now, but it used to be Helen Kasios. I wouldn’t call us friends, but I’ve attended the parties she used to throw from time to time before she became one of the Thirteen. It always felt a bit like watching animals in a zoo as I witnessed the powerful people from Olympus’s legacy families poke and snap at each other. I’ve learned a lot from playing the sidelines; nearly enough to protect me and my sister from the circling wolves.
Helen isn’t too bad, honestly. She’s never cruel when kindness will further her goals, and she’s perfected a glittery exterior that everyone seems to think means she’s empty-headed, but I’ve always interpreted as a warning not to get too close. No one surfs the political currents as adeptly as she does if they’re not smarter than most of the people in the room.
But that was before she became Ares. Now I can’t take anything for granted when it comes to her. We aren’t on the same level—two women from legacy families, even if mine is disgraced and hers rules Olympus. She’s one of them, now, and I’m still me.
“Helen.” I strive to keep my tone even, but her name still comes out too sharp. “What are you doing here?”
“Meeting with my lovely brother.” She shrugs. She’s built slim the way her mother was, though there’s clear muscle definition in the arms left bare by her black sheath dress. She looks cool and professional and untouchable.
I feel grimy standing next to her. I haven’t wanted a thin body in over a decade—I love my curves out of sheer defiance of everyone who acts like they should be part of a before picture—but it’s hard not to compare us when we stand like this.
She gives me a long look. “Apollo’s in with him now. I don’t think he knew you were coming or he would have waited for you.”
Without a doubt. Apollo is courteous like that. When I first met him, I thought it was an act, but he’s never once faltered in five years. Even as jaded as I am, I have to admit it’s just who he is. Either that or he’s a better liar than anyone else in Olympus, a city filled to the brim with liars and cheats.
There’s no getting out of this. I’m here. I might as well see it through. I hold up the file between us like a shield. “He forgot this.”
“Ah.” She glances back down the hallway. “Well, I’ll walk you there.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“It really is.” She spins on a heel and faces the same direction as me. “With things in a bit of upheaval right now, the security is ramped up. Honestly, I’m not sure how you got up here at all. My people are supposed to have the upper floors locked down.”
Ah. That explains the elevator “malfunction” and why the guy downstairs was such an asshole. I shrug a single shoulder. “I’m persuasive.”
“More like you’re terrifying.” She laughs, a sound so happy it makes my chest pang in envy. I don’t want what Ares has—the title, the power, the responsibility—but it must be nice to be so comfortable in how she moves through the world, sure that it will bend to her impressive will.
I have to take stronger measures.
“Your people are specially trained,” I snap. “If they can’t take me, that sounds like a you problem.”
“Absolutely.” She agrees so damn easily. “By the way, is Orpheus still bothering you?”
Mention of Apollo’s brother makes me frown. What does Orpheus have to do with anything? It takes several steps for understanding to settle over me. She’s talking about that single party where he was being an arrogant little prick, but that was months ago. I’m honestly surprised she remembered at all. “I can handle Orpheus.” He might be bigger than me, but he’s brittle. I could break him without lifting a finger.
“If you’re sure…I know it’s a touchy subject because he’s Apollo’s little brother.”
I snort. I can’t help it. “Apollo has more or less washed his hands of Orpheus.” As much as Apollo can wash his hands of anyone in his family. What it really translates to is that he’s stopped smoothing over Orpheus’s messes and cut off his money. With how their mother babies the spoiled brat, it never would have worked if Apollo wasn’t, well, Apollo. “When he shapes up, he can play prodigal son and get all the attention he’s deprived of right now. He has bigger things to worry about than chasing some woman who doesn’t want him.”
“If that ever changes, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Sure,” I lie. I know better than to trust anyone in this gods forsaken city. Ares might be better than most, but that doesn’t change that she’s part of this place. When push comes to shove, she will look out for herself and her interests before helping someone else. Expecting anything else is like expecting a fish to sprout wings and fly. “I’ll do that.”
“No, you won’t.” Ares smiles. “But the offer still stands. Here we are.” She stops in front of a large dark door with Zeus’s name stamped in gold on it. The current Zeus is Ares’s brother. The last one was her father. I’d rather chew off my own arm than deal with either of the men who have held the title during my lifetime, but I’m here. It’s too late to go back now.
I do my best not to hold my breath—not with Ares watching—and knock.
Apollo’s the one who opens it, and I refuse to hold my breath at the sight of him, either. I hate looking at Apollo. He’s too fucking perfect, a product of his Swedish father and his Korean model of a mother. Tall, broad shoulders, perfectly trimmed black hair and kind dark eyes. It’s the latter that always hits me like a blow to the chest.
I should have quit a long time ago.
Better to work in an office job I loathe than to have…feelings…about my boss. Even if the feelings in question are something as simple as lust. It complicates things, though I’d throw myself out the window before I let him know.
Which I why my instincts kick in and I shove the file at him. “You forgot this.” My voice is too sharp, too bitchy. He didn’t ask me to do this, but I’m embarrassed and it’s so much easier to snarl and snap than admit it. “I’m not your errand girl, and now I’m in overtime for the week.”
Apollo raises a single dark brow. “You didn’t have to come all this way, Cassandra. I could have done without.”
Without a doubt. He’s capable on a truly terrifying level and has nearly perfect recall of anything he’s ever read. He would have been fine relaying the contents of the file without having it on hand. He probably only put it together to hand it off to Zeus at the end of the meeting.
But he was nice to me this morning.
I am a fool.
“You’re welcome.” I turn on my heel. “See you tomorrow.”
“Cassandra.”
I ignore him and keep going. If security is the reason the elevators won’t go above floor fifteen, then I bet they’ll descend from here. They’re keeping people out, not in. My exit won’t be marred by having to take a breather on the stairwell and praying to gods I don’t believe exist that no one stumbles on me. My pride won’t be able to handle it.
“Cassandra.” He’s closer. Damn it, I should have known he wouldn’t let this go.
I sigh and stop. It’s beneath both our dignity to have him chase me down the hall in front of Helen. Apollo stops next to me, his longer legs having covered the distance easily. He pauses. “Thank you for bringing this. If you’ll hold on for a few minutes, I’m just wrapping up. I’ll give you a ride home.”
The temptation to say yes nearly makes my knees buckle. I’ve shared enough rides with him over the years on the way from one meeting to another. I know exactly how it will go. He’ll slump back against the seat and loosen his perfect black tie. Not a lot. Just enough to drive me to distraction. Then he’ll pull out his phone and leave me to my thoughts.
Apollo never prattles on the way some people do. He’s not one of those strong silent types, but he doesn’t feel the need to fill quiet moments with inane chatter. The car ride will be comfortable and lovely and I absolutely cannot say yes to it. It’s one thing to have those moments during the work day when I can excuse them. After hours?
No. Absolutely not.
“I’m fine.”
He searches my face like he knows I’m being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn, but Apollo is a man who respects boundaries and so he just nods. “Keep the cab fare receipt and expense it.”
I hate how weak I get at the simple thoughtfulness he continually demonstrates. Apollo is too savvy not to know how tight money is for me—his entire job is information, after all—and he also knows me well enough to know I won’t take charity. Not from him. Not from anyone. Not when it’s never really charity and always comes with strings attached.
But a business expense?
My pride can handle that.
“Fine.”
“See you tomorrow, Cassandra.” Maybe I’m imagining the warmth lingering in his tone as I turn away and march to the elevators. I must be. I am no slouch in the looks department, but I’ve seen the people who populate Zeus’s parties. They might not all be on Helen’s level, but they’re closer to hers than mine. Apollo’s mother is a model, and both Apollo and Orpheus really got her looks. Orpheus might be the only one who plays them up, but I’ve seen Apollo literally leave a wake of people staring after him when we walked down the sidewalk. Not that he noticed.
No, this unfortunate attraction is one-sided and that’s just fine with me.
It’s only a matter of time before I get out of this cursed city once and for all. The last thing I need is to get entangled with one of the Thirteen—another one of the Thirteen—before I do.
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Acknowledgments
This series wouldn’t have gotten off the ground without the support of so many people. First and foremost, always thank you to my readers. Thank you for rolling with my chaos and trusting me to play fast and loose with your favorite Greek myths. Thank you to all the indie bookstore sellers, reviewers, influencers, and readers who have shoved this series into people’s hands and championed it from the beginning.
All my gratitude to Mary Altman for telling me yes when I randomly sent an email that was like “Hey, I know we planned on Achilles and Helen for this one, but I’d like Patroclus to be in there, too.” I couldn’t ask for a better editor willing to roll with my personal brand of chaos and give me enough leeway to make the magic happen. This book is a thousand times better because of your support and input.
Much thanks to Christa Désir for telling me the thing I didn’t want to hear but desperately needed to hear. Thank you for helping me find the plot and pull it out so this wasn’t just three people being angsty and talking in circles.
Endless appreciation to Stefani Sloma for holding my hand through promo and marketing. This series has legs because of your support and enthusiasm, and I couldn’t ask for a better publicist!
Thanks to the rest of the Sourcebooks team, including Jessica Smith, Dawn Adams, Rachel Gilmer, Jocelyn Travis, Katie Stutz, and Susie Benton.
Big thanks to Piper J. Drake, Asa Maria Bradley, Jenny Nordbak, Nisha Sharma, and Andie J. Christopher for being there through the ups and downs and hard right turns. Big thanks to K Sterling, Reese Ryan, Fortune Whelan, Ali Williams, Amanda Cinelli, and Brina Starler for keeping me company during early morning writing sprints.
Last, but never least, thank you to Tim. Yeah, I know you were skimming looking for your name. Thank you for being my biggest cheerleader, the kick in the ass when I need it, and never hesitating to remind me that you’re proud of me. Love you!
About the Author
Katee Robert is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Entertainment Weekly calls her writing “unspeakably hot.” Her books have sold over a million copies. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, children, a cat who thinks he’s a dog, and two Great Danes who think they’re lap dogs. You can visit her at kateerobert.com or on Twitter @katee_robert.
Also by Katee Robert
Dark Olympus
Neon Gods
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