A Taste of Greek (Out of Olympus #3) (11 page)

Hermes rushed upstairs and opened the door to his room, his eyes instantly falling onto the spot next to the bed, where he kept his sandals—only, the spot was empty. Maybe he’d accidentally pushed them under the bed. He bent down to look underneath it, but saw nothing except for a layer of dust that had accumulated there.

Hermes rose, searching his room more thoroughly now. His sandals had to be somewhere. He remembered that he’d still been wearing them when he and Penny were out near the fountain. She’d been the only one taking her shoes off then. He hadn’t gone into the water, he was sure of it.

Nevertheless, he walked out onto the balcony and looked down at the fountain, then perused the balcony. Nothing.

His sandals were gone.

13

Penny’s heart was pounding, her head swimming. What had she done? She still couldn’t believe it, but she’d taken Hermes’ sandals.

No, not taken. Only borrowed, she corrected herself.

When she’d woken to go to the bathroom, she’d tripped over them—actually had almost fallen as a result. She’d picked them up and taken them with her into the bathroom to study them in the light. They were magnificent. She’d just wanted to take a closer look. Much closer, like under her microscope. But her office was across town from the B&B and it had taken her longer to get there than she’d anticipated. She’d thought she could simply take a quick look at the sandals, and then get them back before Hermes even noticed they were gone.

But it hadn’t worked out that way. Examining them had taken her much longer than she’d thought it would. And she still wasn’t done.

She’d told herself that even if Hermes woke while she was gone, chances were he would take a shower first, and maybe even have breakfast before he noticed that his shoes were missing. She would have plenty of time to get them back. Right?

Wrong. She was an idiot. A fool.

Because once she’d started examining them, she’d become fascinated. A thought had popped into her head: what if these sandals were the answer to her prayers? What if they could help her gain tenure and thus save her job?

The sandals were so much more than magnificent. They seemed to be old, the leather worn, yet firm. And the wings looked like they weren’t just colored golden, but gold-plated, if not solid gold. If that was indeed the case, they had to be worth thousands. She didn’t even know how Hermes could wear such valuable items without constantly worrying about damaging them. It was as if the wings were actually made of feathers dipped in gold. Each tiny delicate fiber moved on its own. She was terrified of breaking them. How could he wear them, day in and day out, in the rain and everywhere else without damaging them?

She wished she had time to do the tests it took to determine how old they were. They were better than any replicas she’d ever seen. She glanced at the clock on her desk. Oh, God no! Too much time had gone by already. She had to get them back to him now. But one last thing: she still hadn’t taken any pictures, when she should have taken care of that task first.

Penny ran into her outer office, grabbed her camera, and hurried back, but before she could take her first shot, her door opened. Her head shot up. She was annoyed with herself that she’d forgotten to close the doors between the offices. She fully expected to see Hermes standing there, fury reddening his face. Guilt surged through her, an apology already on her lips, but it wasn’t Hermes who’d entered, but Kenton.

“Kenton? What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised to see him. He never came to her office. In fact, he barely spoke to her at all.

He ran his eyes over her dress, making her all too aware that she was still wearing the same dress she’d worn to the party the previous night. She could only imagine what impression she was giving off.

Kenton returned his gaze to her face. “I saw you run in earlier, and you seemed to be in a hurry. I got curious. What’s up?” His eyes drifted past her, past the camera in her hands, to the sandals sitting on the table.

“I uh . . . ”

“Are those what I think they are?” He rushed forward to take a closer look.

She had no possibility of shielding the sandals from his view. Besides, if she did that, it would only draw more attention to them. She had to play it cool. “Incredible replicas, aren’t they?”

“Yes.” He picked one up.

She quickly took it from his hand.

“Where did you get them?”

“A friend. I just wanted to take a few pictures before I take them right back.” She said it so matter-of-factly, she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

“Of course.” He said, unable to tear his gaze away.

She snapped a bunch of shots as quickly as she could, then placed the shoes in a tote bag. “So what are you doing here on a Sunday?” she asked, trying to slip a casual tone into her voice.

“Just a few things to catch up on.” He pointed to the tote bag. “They really look so real. Where did your friend get them?”

“Oh, in a thrift shop. Can you believe it?”

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “No. I can’t.”

“Well, I really should get going,” she said, swinging the tote over her shoulder and heading for the door. When she turned around, Kenton was still standing there, staring at the table where the shoes had been.

“Kenton?”

“Yes, yes. Coming.” He turned and followed her out the door.

***

“Are you sure you’ve searched everywhere?” Sophia asked again.

Hermes let out a frustrated huff. “Yes, they’re neither in the house nor anywhere on the grounds.”

He, Eros, Triton, and Sophia were assembled in the private apartment on the third floor again, after fanning out and searching the property from top to bottom. His sandals hadn’t turned up. But the loss of his sandals wasn’t the only thing that was going through Hermes’ mind. With every moment it became clearer that Penny had duped him—him, the biggest trickster among gods and mortals alike!

How could he have been so blind? The signs had all been there: she was a professor of Greek studies—he was a Greek god. She had recognized that he’d spoken Ancient Greek to Triton, and she understood it. She had shown interest in whether mortals still believed in the Greek gods; hell, she wanted to write a paper on it. He’d given her his and Triton’s real names. As a professor of Greek studies, she knew that those were the names of gods. Had she put two and two together, noticed his sandals, and stolen them to prove that Greek gods existed? How had he not seen this coming?

“Where the fuck is he?” he suddenly heard Dio’s voice from the hallway.

Hermes turned toward the open door and watched his stepbrother march into the studio, annoyance clearly written on his face. Great! Now he had to deal with a pissed off Dio! As if he wasn’t wading in enough shit already.

When Dio spotted Hermes, he glared at him and balled his hands into fists. “Why the fuck can’t I teleport? What have you screwed up now?”

Before Hermes could answer, Eros stepped in. “Your dear little stepbrother isn’t in possession of his sandals anymore.”

Dio’s eyes narrowed.

“His floozy from last night stole them,” Eros continued.

“She’s not a floozy!” Hermes defended her automatically.

Dio stepped closer to Hermes. “You, idiot, let a mortal wench deceive you so she could steal your sandals? Are you out of your mind?”

Fury boiled up in Hermes. He placed his hands on his hips. “May I remind you that I’m not the first god here who was duped by a mortal and left for a fool!”

Dio squared his stance. “I don’t like your insinuation.”

“It’s not an insinuation. It’s a fact! So don’t throw stones when you’re standing in a glass house!”

“Ari was right to do what she did. I deserved it,” Dio admitted. After all, Dio had callously dumped her after making her believe that they had something special. When Hera had interfered and temporarily robbed Dio of his memory, Ari had made him believe that they were engaged and were abstaining from sex before marriage. The situation had turned into pure torture for Dio.

“Yes, you did.” But had he, Hermes, deserved it too? He mentally shook his head. No. He hadn’t done anything to Penny that deserved such treatment: stealing his sandals, sneaking out of his bed, and . . . no, he didn’t even want to think of what else she’d done to him.

“Fuck you! I’ve gotta be in Napa for the harvest. What am I supposed to do now? Damn it, Hermes!” Dio shook his head.

“Take a fucking plane like everybody else,” Hermes grumbled under his breath.

“Idiot!”

“At least you have enough time to take a plane,” Eros interrupted. “But my date is in Greece tonight. And in case you guys can’t figure out time zones, it’s already evening in Greece!”

“So what if you don’t get to screw another of your bimbos? I have to supervise an entire harvest. If something goes wrong, an entire year’s vintage could be wiped out!” Dio grunted. “I need a drink now!” He walked into the kitchenette and pulled a bottle from the wine rack.

Triton raised an eyebrow. “Before noon?”

“It’s noon somewhere in this world,” Dio deflected.

“What now?” Sophia asked, letting herself fall on the couch and lifting her feet onto the coffee table.

“
Well, clearly, Hermes’ little hottie wasn’t after his body at all. Nope. Obviously, all she wanted was his shoes,” Eros said.

Dio poured himself a glass and drank a long gulp, then glanced at Hermes. “Hope she was worth it. Or did she pretend to fall asleep on you?”

“Very funny,” Hermes snapped, his friend’s jostling making him seethe even more. Fury burned his insides. “I gave it to her good!” Well, at least he’d fucked the living daylights out of her.

“Hermes!” Triton chastised with a look toward Sophia.

“Sorry, Sophia,” Hermes said quickly.

Dio poured another glass and handed it to Hermes. “Where is Penny now?”

Hermes shrugged and drank from his wine. “How in Hades should I know?”

“You don’t even know where she lives?” Dio asked, disbelief turning his lips into a sneer and making Hermes long to punch him.

“No. I don’t know where she lives,” he mocked. “I only just met her a few days ago. We would always meet at Vivian’s.”

“I know Vivian’s. Great scones,” Eros added.

“Wonderful,” Hermes downed the rest of his glass.

“I must say, I’ve never had a woman use me so blatantly. How does it feel to be worked over for a piece of clothing?” Eros asked.

Hermes narrowed his eyes at Eros, trying to hide his real feelings. It had felt amazing, out-of-this-world satisfying, and utterly addictive. Sex with Penny had blown his mind. And clearly destroyed his capacity for clear thinking, if he was still harboring the same desire for her now as he had the night before.

“All right, enough of all this. We need a plan to get the sandals back before all Hades breaks loose,” Triton said.

“Hades has already broken loose,” Hermes muttered. “The souls have already been piling up, workers are on strike, and the deal Zeus proposed to Hades will never be struck, if none of the gods can teleport. Who knows where Zeus is stuck right now. He’s going to have my ass!” He pounded his fist against the bookcase and grabbed the wine bottle from the counter, where Dio had set it down, refilling his glass.

“All right, well, getting drunk and breaking the furniture isn’t going to do us any good. So let’s, if you don’t mind, try and come up with a plan,” Triton added.

“So you really don’t know where she lives?” Eros said.

“Are you deaf?” Hermes asked, lifting his fist at Eros.

“Don’t try and take this out on me. You’re the one who can’t keep track of his most important godly possession. It would be as if I’d lost my bow.” He visibly shuddered at the thought.

“Whatever!” Hermes paused for a moment, shoving his hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I don’t know where she lives, but I do have her phone number. And I know she works at the university, in the History Department. Greek History.”

“Holy shit, she really was after your shoes, wasn’t she? What’s she gonna do? Exhibit them at a museum?”

Hermes didn’t dignify Eros’s question with an answer.

“What are you going to do to her once you find her? Because whatever it is, I would really love to watch,” Dio said, a leering grin on his face.

“You really are one sick son of a god,” Eros said, before looking back at Hermes. “Count me in. I’d like to watch too.”

“Nobody’s gonna watch anything!” Hermes set his glass down on the sideboard. “But she will pay for what she’s done!” For seducing him, for using him and discarding him like a bloody dirty tissue. And nobody had the right to see how he was planning on doling out her punishment.

“And what are we gonna do until you’ve gotten your sandals back?” Dio asked.

“Hope to Hades that Zeus doesn’t find out,” Hermes prayed. But even as the words left his mouth, the sky exploded in a raucous boom.

“Too late. He already knows,” Triton muttered. A thunderbolt sparked through the blue, cloudless sky as if to underline his words.

14

“
I am going to rip his head off!” Zeus thundered. The walls shook as his voice rumbled through the study, uprooting the balance of the gods and demi-gods who were crowding into his palace.

Zeus’s manservant of over a millennium tried to shove the unwelcome visitors back out the door, but was almost trampled in the process. Loud shouts and complaints echoed in the office.

“What in Hades is going on?” Orion yelled over the crowd.

Artemis shook her head. “Looks like one of those four fuck-ups you’re related to has screwed up again.”

Orion glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

Ares interrupted them. “She’s talking about Hermes. He’s lost his sandals.”

“That’s not what I heard!” Apollo claimed. “They were stolen.”

“I heard he sold them!” somebody in the crowd claimed.

Zeus rolled his eyes. “Silence! You idiots! All of you!”

Instantly, the voices died, and everybody waited with bated breath.