Aphrodite (3 page)

“It would seem I have no other options.” Poseidon’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Your cruise departs in seventy-two hours.” Tossing me a thick envelope, he added, “Don’t be late.”

Seventy-two hours, huh? That wasn’t nearly enough time to shop.

Chapter III

THE HEAD CONCIERGE, Miguel, set my bags down on the marble floor of the entryway with a reverence generally reserved for holy artifacts. And let’s face it, anything belonging to me was.

“Is this room more to your liking?” His pupils were wide under the influence of my charm.

Lemon-scented cleaning solution assaulted my nostrils as I glanced around the sun-filled room. The suite curved around the back of the ship. Taupe shades covered the floor-to-ceiling windows, which was just as well, since we were still in the port.

“There’s a kitchenette through here with a fully stocked fridge.” Miguel left the luggage at the door and walked around the bar. “Everything is complimentary, of course. If you need anything else, simply dial five on your phone and you’ll reach your personal concierge. Life jackets”—he edged around the bar to open a door by the curved staircase—“are located in the half-bath.” He motioned to a set of white cabinets. “Along with a safe, bathrobes, and towels.”

I nodded, stepping out onto the balcony to take in the wicker lounge chairs, whirlpool, and dinner table. My view of the buildings crowding the Miami port tunnel would soon give way to endless ocean. I glanced down, enchanted by the way the steel-blue waves rippled against the ship like silk.

“You’ll need these.” He placed two plastic cards on the bar. “Your room keys act as a credit card for any on-board spending. All charges will be billed to the room. You’ll also require the key anytime you wish to leave the ship. Should you need me, anytime, please let me know.”

“Actually . . . wait.” I rushed back into the room and pulled at my smallest suitcase, jerking to stop when the plush carpet rendered the wheels inefficient. “I guess here is fine.” I grunted, unzipping the front pocket to reach one of the bright-yellow folders I’d tucked inside. Inside it, I’d put pictures of all the demigods who’d vanished off this ship within the last year. Holding the file out to Miguel, I asked, “Do you recognize any of these people?”

He flipped through the missing flyers, his expression morphing from eager to devastated with each sheet. “No.” Miguel’s shoulders sagged. “Is there
any
other way I can help you?”

“Could you show them to the rest of the crew?” Grinning at him to show that I wasn’t upset, I waited until the disappointed steward met my eyes again. Then I eased off the charm a touch. Charm could be tricky. I couldn’t have my new personal assistant throwing himself off the boat in a fit of despair, now could I? “If anyone recognizes them, bring them to me.”

“Of course.” He waited, his dark eyes adoring. “How else can I please you?”

I considered. If a swipe of the room key monitored every purchase, arrival, and departure, then maybe I could pinpoint exactly when the demigods went missing. “Would you be able to access the records from previous cruises?”

His dark hair fell into his eyes as he nodded again. “I can look them up by name or booking number. Would that be helpful?”

“Why, yes, it would.” Looking at the records
after
everyone checked in would be more efficient. After all, identifying the demigods
about
to go missing was the first step in my plan.

I thought back to the picture Miguel took of me before I boarded the ship. “My picture is linked to my account, right?” If those pictures were in the system, a simple search would tell me how many demigods were on the ship. Then I’d know who to keep my eyes on.

“It is. We have to make sure the picture on the card matches the person holding it before they make any purchases or leave the vessel.”

“Perfect. What time do you get off?”

“Eleven-thirty.”

“I’ll see you then.”

He hurried out of the room. When the door closed, I kicked off my heels, enjoying the feel of the thick white carpet beneath my aching feet before climbing upstairs, dragging my smallest suitcase with me. The wheels thudded up each step as I yanked the heavy bag behind me. Even in February, Miami felt muggy. All I wanted to do was take a shower and change into something cool.

“Not too bad,” I murmured, looking around the bedroom. It actually reminded me of the cookie-cutter beach house I’d charmed my way into back in Pebble Beach. Two white chairs and a small, glass-topped table were set up in front of the half-wall that allowed an unobstructed view of the living area below. A smaller windowed wall leading out to a tiny balcony stood adjacent to the staircase.

I grunted as I heaved my suitcase onto the king-sized bed with enough force to send a ripple of movement along the length of the white comforter. But I barely got the thing unzipped before I heard voices outside my room.

“I’m telling you, this is
my
room.”

“No, sir.” Miguel’s heavily accented voice sounded out of breath, as if he’d just run a marathon. “This room belongs to a young woman, I—”

“Open. The. Door.”

The lock clicked and I made my way to the staircase, determined to charm whoever came in the room into moving on.

Below me, the door swung open, slamming into the wall. The blue paintings shuddered, but held, and delicate clinking sounds came from the chandelier. A familiar demigod stepped over the threshold.

“Adonis,” I breathed.

“Ask them to swear fealty to me.”
The memory of Zeus’s voice echoed through my mind.

Adonis had been there, along with Ares, Hephaestus, and Persephone’s priestess, Melissa. But only Adonis had been immune to my charm. He’d seen the way my body moved of its own accord, forcing me to obey Zeus’s command. I’d known what would come next, but I was powerless to stop it. Zeus had planned to use me to force Ares and Hephaestus to swear over all their power until they turned to dust. Suicide by devotion. Then he’d planned to make me kill Adonis and Melissa for him. Not because they were a threat, but because killing them would hurt me. And then maybe, if I was very, very lucky, Zeus would have let me die instead of forcing me to live on as his puppet.

Behind Adonis, Miguel babbled apologies while making wild motions to indicate how Adonis had forced himself into the room. Neither one of us paid any attention to him.

“Aphrodite?” He looked dazed at the sight of me.

Memories bombarded me.

Words rose in me, filled my mouth, and pushed against my lips. Swallowing, I forced them down, but they tore at my throat. A strangled, keening wail filled the room, sounding so alien, so desperate and helpless, that, at first, I didn’t place it as mine. I wouldn’t do this to them. Zeus would kill them in an instant. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—Stop!

My lips parted of their own volition, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. Zeus crossed his arms, looking bored. I couldn’t resist forever, and he knew it. Every fiber in my being pulled at me to obey his command.

I looked away from Zeus, but found I couldn’t face the blind devotion in Ares’s and Hephaestus’s eyes. There was nothing left of them. All they wanted to do was please me. This was wrong. My vision blurred, and I blinked away the tears, looking to Adonis instead. His bravery and strength was telegraphed in his stiff posture and the trust in the eyes he kept glued to my face.

A small smile formed on his face, cool and confident.
Just wait
, it seemed to say.
We’ll get out of this.

And we had. All because of him.

“Is he traveling with you?” Miguel wedged Adonis’s suitcase between the door and the frame. He looked ready to throw Adonis out of the room if I said no.

“You can go,” I told Miguel, infusing enough charm behind the words to make sure he did as I asked.

“What—” Adonis asked when the door closed behind Miguel. “How—Why are you here?”

Oh, gods. I recovered from my shock enough to realize what Adonis being here
meant.
“You need to leave.” I rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in my haste to reach him before the cruise left shore. “Adonis you need to
go.
It’s not—”

“This is
my
room,” he argued, snapping out of his daze enough to grow defensive. “Bought and paid for. I don’t know what you’re—”

“
—safe.
You can’t be on this ship.” I reached for his bag as I grabbed his arm, propelling him toward the door. That I’d charmed my way into his room seemed too great a coincidence to process right now. For now, I just thanked the Primordials that I’d discovered him on board before it was too late. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the dock.”

“What do you mean, it’s not safe? He wrenched his arm free and grabbed his bag from me. “What is going on?”

“Demigods are going missing.” I filled him in as best I could, stealing anxious glances toward the balcony to make sure the ship hadn’t yet set sail. “It’s not safe for you to be here.”

Adonis swore, his eyes going to the chandelier as he digested what I told him. “I can’t just leave,” he said finally. “I’m here for work. It’s this big event. We’ve got shoots scheduled at each of the ports and—”

“Any other demigods?” Demigods, particularly those in possession of charm, gravitated to fields like modeling, performing, or politics. What better way to get multiple demigods in one place than by targeting their most probable career paths? I made a mental note to check if the other cruises were geared toward any demigod-heavy fields.

“What?” Adonis shook his head. “None from my agency. Across the whole convention, maybe three or four.” He swore again. “I’ve got to warn them.”

Having three or four demigods on one ship was far too unlikely to be written off as coincidence. They were probably all targets. But if he told them, if they behaved differently because of what they knew, I might lose my chance to figure out who or what was taking them. “Let me handle that. In the meantime,” I pushed him toward the door, “why don’t we find your boss, and I don’t know, maybe charm him into thinking you stayed on board the whole time? Do you want a raise? I think I can work in a raise. Let’s just—”

He didn’t budge. “What’s your plan?”

“Right now? To get you off this boat.” I clenched my jaw, wishing Adonis were a normal demigod I could just charm into leaving. But Adonis was special. Thanks to centuries of inbreeding, Adonis was not only immune to anyone else’s charm, he seemed to have control over his own. The inbreeding bit isn’t as gross as it sounds. Before Zeus died, he’d experimented with turning demigods to gods. Adonis’s parents were both Zeus’s offspring. As were their parents before that, and their parents before that. Making Zeus Adonis’s grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great grandfather, and so on, on both sides.

Okay, maybe that is as gross as it sounds, but gods don’t have the same incest taboo as humans. We don’t pass on genetic material, just power.

Adonis leaned against the door. “I spent enough time with you last year to know that you’re not infallible, Aphrodite. None of you gods are, no matter what you think.” He pushed away from the door. “Demigods are going missing;
I’m
a demigod. So are my little sisters—”

“You have sisters?”

Adonis gave me a look that warned me that topic was closed. “What are you planning to
do
here? You’re not wearing a glamour; why? Anyone who knows
anything
is going to look at you and see goddess. Is that part of your plan? Is the Pantheon using you as a distraction? Someone that random power signatures can be attributed to while Persephone or one of the gods works in the background?”

“How about I explain on the way.” I pulled open the door, but Adonis shut it, keeping his arm pushed against it for good measure. With a frustrated sigh, I whirled on him, talking fast so he’d
leave
already. “I can’t hide that there’s a god on board, even with a glamour, because
the power that it takes to maintain a glamour is something we can sense. Almost no one has heard of me. I figure it’s better to let who or whatever is behind this notice me so they can write me off. Let them assume that I’m
not
one of the very few gods who could withstand the level of charm it takes to pull off what they’re doing.”

Adonis fell silent while he considered that, taking an infuriatingly long time to do so. “Okay, but what if instead of blending in, you used a glamour to look like us. Demigods can’t normally control their powers, so any stray power could be explained away if you looked like one of us.” The more he talked, the more excited he seemed to get about his idea. “There’s this demigoddess I know—Elise. She was supposed to come to the convention, but she landed this skincare gig at the last minute. We could say it fell through. You could look like her and get taken
with
us. You’ll get to learn everything that’s going on and if you need to, you can teleport back to the rest of the gods to bring in the cavalry.”

I rubbed my temples, trying to think of the fastest way off the ship. We’d have to go to the main deck, right? “That’s . . . an elaborate plan.”

“Thanks. So . . . ?”

I tugged at the door again to no avail. “I could look like her, but I couldn’t claim to
be
her. I can’t lie, remember? So what if someone asks her a question that I
can’t
answer? Don’t you think I’d actually draw
more
attention to myself if I tried and failed to impersonate a demigod?”

“But you’ve lost the element of surprise,” he protested. “So whatever is behind this is going to see you coming. What about the demigods that have already gone missing? By being so obvious, you might actually be putting them in danger. And then there are the demigods still on board. Did you even consider them?”

There wasn’t a good way to tell him this wasn’t a rescue mission. I wasn’t supposed to stop the demigods from going missing. Just observe, report, and let the realm rulers figure out what they wanted to do with the information.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to say anything. Adonis studied me for a long moment, his mouth dropping open as he figured out what I wouldn’t say. “We’re expendable to you, aren’t we? You don’t actually care that we’re going missing. You just want to make sure whatever happens to us isn’t a threat to you.”

“Adonis . . .” I dropped my eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“And you wonder why they all hate you.” His gold eyes locked to mine, smoldering with rage. “The few mortals who even know gods exist.”

No, we all knew. We’d never had to wonder. The boat bobbed on the waves as we left the port. I focused on the movement, the swaying chandelier, the subtle sound of the ocean beyond the glass walls, uncomfortable with the turn this conversation had taken.