Electric Idol (Dark Olympus Book 2)

We meet Zeus in Dodona Tower.

It’s a bit of a head trip. The last time I was here for a meeting, it was with the last Zeus. I’ve been around long enough to see several of the Thirteen switch people behind the titles, but part of me believed that old fucker would live forever. I know Perseus felt the same way; he was sure he’d have at least another decade before Zeus finally did us all a favor and kicked the bucket.

No one expected him to take a header out of his office window a few months ago.

Thankfully, the office where we meet Perseus—Zeus—isn’t that same office. It’s the one he’s been working from for years now, ever since he took over most of the day-to-day tasks of running his father’s company. His company now.

I glance at Psyche. No matter how unconventional, having sex in front of all those mirrors seems to have steadied the ground beneath her feet. She’s lost the wild look in her eyes and has her public persona firmly in place. Calm, cool, and collected. The only evidence of her nerves is her white-knuckled grip on my hand.

I’m not like her. I’m shit at comforting. I’ve never had to do it before, never had to search for the right words to say. Fuck, I’ve never wanted to. She gave me such a gift earlier that I can do nothing but try. “It will be okay.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Perseus isn’t Zeus.”

She looks at me. “That’s the thing, Eros. Perseus is Zeus. He might have been your friend up to this point, but now he’s essentially the king of Olympus. That changes a person.”

I know that. Of course I know that. But part of me rebels at it all the same. I was never as close to Perseus as I am to Helen or even Eris. I still know him.

“Let’s go in.” I open the door for her and hold it while she precedes me into the office. It looks nearly identical to every other office in this building. Steel, marble, glass, and little else. Perseus sits behind his massive desk, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. He’s always been a handsome fucker, and he won’t thank me for saying it, but he really does have the look of his father. Athletic body, strong square jaw, golden-blond hair, the same cold blue eyes.

He motions to the chairs in front of the desk, and I wait for Psyche to sit before I take the empty one. Perseus looks between us before finally settling on me. “It’s been two months since my father died. You couldn’t have resisted started starting shit for longer?”

“You know me. I like to stir the pot.” I relax back into the chair and give him an arrogant grin. “But in this case, if you want to start pointing fingers, you can take it up with Aphrodite.”

“And yet I’m here, taking it up with you.” He shoots a look at Psyche. “I don’t suppose you were aware that your mother and I were negotiating for a marriage between you and me?”

Shock surges through me, quickly followed by a rage strong enough to burn this entire fucking skyscraper to the ground. Psyche had mentioned it during an early conversation, but I hadn’t taken it seriously. With all the candidates throwing themselves at Perseus, he’d meant to go with the controversial choice of one of Demeter’s daughters? “You’ve got to be joking me.”

He ignores me, obviously waiting for an answer. Psyche draws herself up. “I suspected it was on the table, but my mother didn’t see fit to inform me that things had gotten as far as negotiations.”

“I figured as much, but knowing about a pending marriage didn’t stop your sister from running into another man’s arms.”

Her voice goes frosty. “I am not my sister, and it wouldn’t have made a difference if my mother was negotiating a marriage or not because I’d be dead. Or did you miss the attempt on my life last night?”

“Watch your tone, Psyche.” He leans back. “I’m going to lay this out for you. I have no proof that Aphrodite is behind this attempt.” He holds up a hand before I can cut in. “Before you tell me that she ordered you to kill Psyche, remember that if you admit as much to me, you’ll share her punishment.”

I tense, very carefully not looking at my wife. Perseus is pulling no punches. I didn’t expect him to, but damn. All Psyche has to do is say I threatened her life, and she’ll remove both me and Aphrodite with one fell swoop. And then she’ll marry Perseus, marry Zeus, and become Hera.

It’d turn the tables in a way neither I nor my mother can do a damn thing about. I wouldn’t blame Psyche for making that call. I desperately don’t want her to, but I still wouldn’t blame her.

“Did you call us here to tell us that you can do nothing?” Her voice hasn’t thawed in the least. “Or do you actually plan to help?”

“I called you here to explain the situation. Demeter might be ready to scream for Aphrodite’s head, but Aphrodite isn’t the one who’s insulted my family—and the position of Zeus—repeatedly. The only reason I haven’t intervened to date is because the marriage negotiations were kept private.”

I stare at him. Even with all the Olympus politics, I honestly thought he would side with us. “So we’re on our own.” It could be worse, but this is hardly the best-case scenario.

“Until you can bring me evidence that Aphrodite is breaking the laws against harming others among the Thirteen and their families, my hands are tied.” He gives me a long look. “You’d be well advised to ensure you aren’t implicated in that evidence.”

Psyche snorts. “Your hands are only tied because you want them to be.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Every time one of the Thirteen titles is passed, there’s a risk of unrest while the new person settles in. Not only has the title of Zeus passed to me, but Hades is now in play for the first time in over thirty years. Olympus needs stability right now, and replacing Aphrodite is not what stability looks like.”

Not to mention there are several titles that might be flipped in the next couple of years already. Ares, in particular, has to be somewhere north of eighty. He’s clinging to that title by his fingertips. In the next few years, he’ll either kick the bucket or be forced to step down, and replacing Ares is such a fucking spectacle, something that can’t be accomplished easily or quickly. Not when a tournament decides the winner.

Perseus is right. I hate that he’s right. Unfortunately, he’s also wagering on something that’s got really shitty odds. “You might not have a choice about dealing with this. My mother won’t stop.”

“I’ll speak to her.”

I laugh, the sound bitter on my tongue. “Good luck.”

Psyche has a strange look on her face. “If the marriage negotiations hadn’t fallen through, what would you have done?”

He doesn’t blink. “I’d have protected you and your family with all my power. That option is beyond us now. Even if you and Eros divorced tomorrow, the entire city believes you’re a love match. If you married me now, it would paint me as the villain, and I have no interest in playing the part at this juncture.”

He can’t afford to. Perseus might be smart and savvy, but he doesn’t have the sheer amount of charisma that allowed his father to lead all of Olympus around by its nose. Everything will be more difficult for him, including dealing with the veteran members of the Thirteen. There will be jockeying for power and influence and testing him to see how far they can push. He’s not in an enviable position. That doesn’t make me more inclined to forgive him for taking the easy route with this.

Then the full meaning of his words penetrate. He’d have protected both Psyche and her family. Which means that if he marries one of her sisters, he’ll protect her. I shoot a look at her; from the tightening of her mouth, she understands what he’s implying. She pushes slowly to her feet. “Stay away from my sisters.”

“Tell that to your mother.”

She clenches her hands, and I’m already moving, rising to my feet and stepping between her and Perseus. “Let it go. We have bigger things to worry about.”

“There’s nothing more important than my family, Eros.” She leans around me to glare at him. “We’ll be back, and we’ll bring evidence that Aphrodite is behind this. Without implicating anyone else.”

“I look forward to it.”

I squeeze Psyche’s hand. “Wait for me outside.”

It’s a testament to her anger that she doesn’t bother to argue. She marches out of the office, shutting the door softly behind her. I turn to Perseus. “You’d break Eurydice, and making Callisto Dimitriou one of the Thirteen is a mistake no matter which way you look at it.”

He doesn’t move. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it.”

“Perseus…”

“Eros.” He sinks enough threat into my name to stop me short. “My name is Zeus. No matter what fondness I held for you before, I’m Zeus now. Every decision I make going forward has nothing to do with what Perseus wants and everything to do with what Zeus requires. Don’t forget that.”

A reminder I can’t afford to ignore. I take a slow breath. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do that.” His eyes go hard. “If you bring danger to my sister’s doorstep again, I’ll kill you myself, law or no law.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, too.” There’s nothing else to say. “See you around, Zeus.” I turn and leave the office.

Psyche falls into step next to me as we head for the elevator. Neither of us speaks until we’re in my car and driving out of the parking garage. She exhales slowly. “That could have gone worse.”

“Did you know about the marriage negotiations?” I don’t mean to ask the question. I sure as fuck don’t mean to let something resembling jealousy bleed into my tone.

“Not exactly. I knew my mother had her eye on a political marriage between us, but I was honestly bluffing before. I had no idea Zeus was even entertaining the idea.” She leans back in the seat and twists to face me. “If I had realized my mother’s ambitions were welcomed by Zeus, I would have married him instead of you and solved all my problems at once.”

“And become Hera in the process.”

“And saved my sisters from becoming Hera in the process,” she corrects gently. “You know how the game is played, Eros. You play the game. You don’t get to be angry about it after the fact.”

She’s right. I know she’s right. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to pull this car over, shove my hand up her skirt, and make her come until she forgets there was even a possibility of a marriage to Zeus. It’s not rational, and it’s damn near unforgivable with our current situation. I need to be focused on the future, on dealing with my mother’s next attack, rather than what might have happened if Aphrodite’s jealousy and rage hadn’t gotten the best of her. I do not need to be picturing a wedding between my wife and Zeus. I sure as fuck don’t need to be thinking about the wedding night, either. He’ll be intent on securing his heir and a few spares. Zeus is one of three titles—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—who are passed from parent to eldest child.

The thought of Psyche’s belly gone round with pregnancy…

No, I can’t afford to think about any of that shit right now.

I make an effort to lighten my grip on the steering wheel. She’s mine, at least for the time being. I have to keep my promise to ensure she’s safe, which means focusing on the next few steps instead of what could have happened. “Where are we headed?”

“We have an interview.” She glances at her phone. “And then we’re going to speak with my mother.”

Demeter.

Another powerful, dangerous woman who’s only too happy to use her children as pawns in the Olympian power games. Yes, I have some things to say to Demeter. “Okay.”

“Eros.” Psyche reaches out almost hesitantly and touches my arm. “I need your head in the game. Are you with me?”

“Yes.” It’s even true. I’ve been compartmentalizing since I was a child. It’s nothing new. My end goal hasn’t changed, though now it’s expanded to ensure that Zeus never touches Psyche. I can’t tell her that, though. She’ll say that I’m being irrational, that it’s a moot point because our marriage has ensured he never will.

I don’t care. I have no right to this jealousy, especially when Psyche is mine in every way that counts, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to brand my presence on her very skin. The more time I spend with her, the harder it is to control my baser urges. I feel like I have a monster inside me, rattling the cage of my control. Eventually it will break out, and then there will be a price to pay.

“Eros.” She’s quiet for several blocks before she takes what sounds like a fortifying breath. “It doesn’t matter what I would have done if my mother reached her goals. It didn’t happen. I married you, not Zeus. I am your wife, not his. I’m committed to seeing this through, so please stop thinking whatever is going through your head right now. We need Zeus’s support, and these circumstances have already ensured that it’s going to be nearly impossible to pull that off.”

I’m committed to seeing this through.

I know she’s talking about what is essentially our con. Marriage for as long as it takes to keep her and her family safe from my mother. She’s not talking about forever.

But just for a moment, I really wish she were.

I’m not a dreamer by nature. I like facts and reality rather than the fantastic version of what could be. The fact is that Psyche only said yes at that altar because I forced her to. She didn’t choose me; she never would have chosen me if given her freedom.

It doesn’t matter. I won’t let it matter. I’ve already decided to keep her, and now all that’s left is paving that path forward between us. I want Psyche in my bed forever. I want the possibility of years spinning out between us, of new schemes and games and playing the public of Olympus to our whims.

I want…children.

The thought staggers me. It’s not something I’ve put much consideration into. My father isn’t around—Aphrodite doesn’t allow for any competition, even in parenting—and my mother is hardly a perfect specimen of what good child-rearing looks like. Up until this point, I’ve always taken for granted that our line would end with me.

Not any longer.

I cover Psyche’s hand with mine and give her a little squeeze. “My head is where it should be. We’ll see this through.”

And after?

After, I’ll convince her that forever could be ours.