Innovation's Muse (Truth's Harem) Read online

  He wasn’t surprised when he got George’s voicemail. “Give me a call. Worried about you.” Icarus tried not to clip off the words. His stomach dropped into his shoes. He’d never get a call back.

  An hour later, he was still stuck in mental limbo. The ring of his phone startled him, and he grabbed it. Esper’s laughing photo stared at him, and grief and guilt rocked inside.

  He hit Answer. “Hello.”

  “Uncle Russ?” Her voice was broken.

  “What’s up, kiddo?”

  “Daddy George is dead. I’m at his house. I don’t know what to do. They’re asking questions about the body. About him. About this empty pill bottle by his bedside...” Her words vanished in a sob.

  Icarus’ heart broke for her. “What empty pill bottle?” He didn’t want to ask, but he had to know.

  “It’s not a prescription bottle. It’s got vines and thorns on it.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to whoever you need me to. All right?”

  “All right.” It was difficult to make out her words through her crying.

  “Sit tight. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Icarus’ guilt grew as he disconnected. Not only had he failed to talk his friend out of killing himself, but George had also used the pills Icarus gave him, to help with sleep.

  Creation, he mentally swore. Mortality sucked.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lexi had never been a fan of crowded places. It wasn’t just the large swaths of people. The scattered auras clogged her senses. And then there were the cameras to worry about.

  This place was more crowded than most. Awnings stretched over stone walkways, protecting the goods in the flea market, but not shielding most of the shoppers from the sun. The spices, meat, flowers, and body odor mingled together, making her stomach churn, and lingering on her tongue.

  Cerberus wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. The contact flowed over and through her, feeling pleasant, but not chasing away her discomfort. They sidestepped two men haggling with a street vendor over a pair of wooden chairs and a matching table.

  So many voices ran together, making it difficult to make out which conversations were in Greek and which were English.

  “—Alexand—”

  Lexi’s heart leaped into her throat, and she whirled toward the voice. Her full name? She couldn’t have heard that right. Did someone recognize her? She wore an illusion to hide her face, but after Hades’ outing her to the entire world, she didn’t know which would be worse—an unhappy god looking for vengeance, or family members of someone Hades had killed.

  “Alexander. You can’t go running off like that.” A woman brushed past her and grabbed the arm of a young boy a few feet away.

  Lexi tried to calm her racing pulse, but it hammered in her ears, mingling with the noise pollution.

  “Zeus promised we were under his protection,” Cerberus’ voice was in her head, rather than out loud.

  “Because I trust Zeus to tell me what time it is without strings attached. And I didn’t say anything.” She hadn’t even sent him the thought. It seemed foolish to be out in public, not knowing who might have an issue with her. But she couldn’t hide forever. As much as her instinct told her to do exactly that.

  Besides, she wasn’t safe anywhere. Given Actaeon, Cerberus’, and her recognizable auras, they weren’t even hidden in his house.

  It had been a few days since Cassandra showed up and was almost as quickly whisked away by Apollo. The voices that haunted Lexi that day hadn’t come back, and neither had Actaeon’s ex, but both were constant thoughts in the back of her mind.

  Cerberus had done a decent job of distracting her, though, testing the limits of their new bond. A large part of that involved discovering how much more intense the sex was when they could feel each other’s pleasure.

  “You didn’t have to say it.” Cerberus spoke aloud this time. “You reek of anxiety.” Being a hellhound shifter gave him an enhanced sense of smell.

  That didn’t mean she wanted to hear about it. “Reek is a strong word.”

  He nipped the edge of her ear playfully, drawing a sigh. “It’s accurate. Come on. I want to show you something. It’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

  That was a big promise to make, but she let him lead her through the streets of the Monastiraki shops anyway. There was so much to take in here. Actaeon told them it was an antique flea market of sorts. He’d wanted to come with them, to show them around, but he was checking on Cassandra.

  Lexi was trying to pretend he could do what he wanted. He hadn’t made a commitment to her, beyond hey, you can stay in my house. It’s nice having you around. But anger and hurt surged inside, knowing he hadn’t cut ties with that woman.

  “It’s a shitty thing for him to do, even as a friend,” Cerberus said.

  She was grateful he understood. Actaeon’s excuse had been I owe her. It sounded a lot like what Apollo said. What did Cassandra hold over these people that put them in her debt?

  Lexi wasn’t dwelling on that. She wanted to enjoy her afternoon with Cerberus.

  The stalls here had everything. Furniture, books, something Cerberus said were records—she didn’t get the appeal of black platters of grooved vinyl, but he’d spent half an hour sifting through the crates.

  Lexi had thought she was going stir crazy, sitting around the house, waiting for something bad to happen. Being out in the open was worse. She expected someone to recognize her. Hades declared open season on her before he was banished. And told the world she was his daughter, after he killed thousands. There had to be at least a couple people who wouldn’t be happy to meet her.

  She wore an illusion now, but mirrors and cameras saw through the disguise. Lexi was used to looking over her shoulder, but this took mandatory paranoia to a whole new level. You’re not safe anywhere. Enjoy this.

  Yeah, that wasn’t reassuring.

  “Hey. Space cadet.” Cerberus’ teasing drew her attention.

  When she saw where they were, glee raced through her. “No way.”

  “Didn’t I promise?”

  He had. Several rows of wooden bookshelves stretched back into a recessed cove, all lined with hardback books that were covered with stunning fantasy artwork.

  She traced her fingers along one near her. Monster Compendium Edition 1.0. The same version of the monster guide from the roleplaying games she used to play with Dad.

  “Take your time,” Cerberus said in her head again. “We've got all afternoon.”

  She was grateful he didn’t speak out loud. A place like this demanded reverence. “If I vanish into the stacks, don’t send help.”

  He laughed and squeezed her hand, before letting go.

  She meandered down the aisle, admiring the artwork on the books. Some of the titles were familiar, and others begged for her to discover the new worlds and rules that lay within their pages. The smell of old pages filled her nostrils and mingled with memories from her childhood.

  She wanted to grab any volume, curl up in the corner, and lose herself in a universe where gods and monsters could be defeated by a lucky roll of the dice.

  She could forget that Actaeon’s past had come back to life. That she’d lost her mother for a second time. Forget that Hades would be back sooner, rather than later.

  Next time, he’d probably make them miss the days when his worst offense was slaughtering thousands of innocent people.

  “I know you.” The sharp voice startled her, and a man grabbed her wrist. “You’re not welcome in my shop.” He gripped hard enough that white marks spread out on her skin, from his fingers. She had a high tolerance for pain, but a hint of it spread up her arm.

  Lexi had let her illusion slip while she was distracted. Fuck.

  Cerberus stepped between them, breaking the man’s grip and shoving him back. “She’s not doing anything wrong.”

  “My daughter is dead because of her old man.” Venom dripped from the stranger’s voice.

  Acid burned
up Lexi’s throat. “It’s okay.” She tugged at Cerberus’ hand. “Let’s go.”

  “No. You’re enjoying yourself.”

  She clenched her jaw. “Not anymore. Let’s go.”

  He growled, but fell into step beside her as she hurried back onto the street.

  Once again the shop owner grabbed her tight and spun her back around. “We’re not done talking.” He dug his fingers in, hitting nerves and tense muscle, but his gaze bored deeper, as if he was searching her soul.

  A low, threatening sound rumbled from Cerberus’ chest.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Lexi commanded.

  “I don’t know why Hades wanted you, but life was fine before he showed up.” When the shopkeeper spoke through clenched teeth, spittle hit Lexi’s face. “He’s gone. You’re here. Someone has to answer.”

  “Let. Her. Go.” Cerberus clenched the man’s wrist, eliciting a yelp.

  “Stop.” Lexi could barely hear over the hammering of her pulse in her ears. “He’s grieving. He’s got a right.”

  “Not to take it out on you.” Cerberus let go anyway.

  The shopkeeper pulled a dagger from where it hung at his hip, and pressed the tip to Lexi’s throat. “We served Poseidon, and we were happy with the arrangement. If I sacrifice you in his name, will it undo what’s happened?”

  Carrying out the threat wouldn’t fix things any more than his blade would cut her skin. The engravings on it looked ceremonial, but it was just steel. Maybe it had been blessed by Poseidon once upon a time, but it wasn’t now.

  Lexi struggled for the kindest words she could find, to tell him that. The man’s anger was terrifying, but she understood his grief. The gods stole her mother from her twice.

  “If you’re not going to do anything, let’s go.” Cerberus was insistent.

  She should do that. She yanked free from the man’s grip and turned to stride away.

  “Stop her,” the guy shouted. “She’s the reason our families are dead.

  Several people in the crowds swiveled in her direction.

  Well, fuck.

  The shouting started. So many voices overlapping. Not as many as there’d been in her head the other day, but far more threatening.

  Hands grabbed at her, some gouging her skin—there was a weak hero or two in the pack—and others ripping at her clothes and hair.

  “Let me help you.” Cerberus’ mental voice added to the chaos, and she worked to process that on top of being shoved against a nearby wall and pinned in place, for the man with the dagger to approach her.

  Another noise mingled with his thoughts and their shouts. A strain of music, faint but dark and ugly.

  She struggled against the people holding her. Super strength wasn’t one of her gifts. Helplessness surged inside. She could let Cerberus help, but she didn’t want anyone hurt.

  “You’re getting hurt. I don’t give a fuck about them.”

  That was part of the problem. She’d seen what his jaws could do to a harpy. If things got any more out of hand here, what could he do to these people? The decision whether or not to let him intervene warred in her head, as the growing anger in the crowd drew more attention. Now people in the middle were being shoved and falling down. This was too much for Cerberus to handle even if she did let him. Would an illusion help? A full-sized projection of Poseidon as if he were still alive?

  The panic and indecision that gripped her made it difficult to focus enough to summon such a thing.

  She looked over the mob, as if their angry faces would offer a solution. The strange music grew louder, gnawing at her core and leaving a pit in its wake. Her gaze fell on a new face. Beautiful, like a doll’s. Lorelei?

  Lexi tried to tear her arm away, to turn off her ear cuff. The siren’s gift that kept her from seeing through illusions. Why had she left it on in the first place?

  And then their surroundings vanished. An office replaced everything. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows looked out over a city below. A black leather couch sat at the far end, a dark-stained table next to it. Chairs that matched the couch were on either end.

  Lexi recognized the aura before she saw the god. She turned, to find Zeus standing next to a desk that filled the room behind them. Photos in digital frames decorated the shelves, showing a laughing couple with three younger children.

  They were all blond, blue eyed, and pale, unlike the dark-haired, olive-skinned Zeus.

  “You’re supposed to take the sample photos out before you display the frames,” Lexi said.

  Zeus’ smile was thin. “Charming, as anticipated. And painfully predictable. If you’re going to cover your anxiety with something, pick a path no one else takes. Dramatic re-enactments of Shakespeare, perhaps.”

  She didn’t have a comeback. The new environment wasn’t as chaotic as what he’d rescued them from, but it felt far more threatening. Still, if he expected abrasion, she’d disappoint. “Lovely to see you again. How may I help you?” she said.

  “You could thank me for pulling you out of there. You could ask the guard dog to stand down.”

  “She’s done enough of that.” Irritation filled Cerberus’ voice.

  She hid a wince at the bite in his words. “Thank you,” she said to Zeus, trying to sound sincere.

  “Better. And they’re not my family. In the photos, that is.”

  “Gee. You think?” Lexi’s tension was slowly cooling. Not evaporating so much, as solidifying into a more manageable form. One she could think through and direct.

  The blank wall Cerberus projected gnawed at her gut, though.

  Zeus gestured to two chairs across from the desk. “Have a seat, please. Can I have anything brought in for you? Water? Coffee?”

  “Explanations,” Cerberus said. “Starting with where we are.”

  Lexi didn’t sit, and neither did he.

  “San Jose. Oxford Data International. This is the CEO’s office. He’s a good friend, so he’s letting me use the place.”

  Lexi knew the company name. They were one of the larger corporations who gathered and collated behavioral data, for market and faith analysis. Or—in more simple terms—they acted as the long arm of Big Brother and helped the gods figure out what behavior would earn them the most worship. “Very kind of the man. He sounds generous. And his family is lovely.”

  “They are, aren’t they?” Zeus settled into the office chair behind the desk and leaned back. “And I hate to cut the small-talk short, but he’s going to want his office back sooner, rather than later.”

  “Seems fair. Some people in this world work.” Cerberus turned toward the door. “Will you tell us where the nearest ley line is, so we can take siren gate out of here, or do I need to look it up?”

  “You, of all people, should know we don’t work that way, hellhound.” The pleasantness slipped from Zeus’ voice.

  Lexi clenched her jaw, to keep her tension from showing. “What do you mean?” She was surprised she kept her tone even.

  “I did something for you—pulled you out of that situation in Greece. I’d like you to do something for me in return.”

  “Fucking asshole.” Cerberus was letting her in his head again.

  Lexi wasn’t comforted. “We didn’t ask for you to pull us out.”

  “And I’m sure you were doing fine. But what I’d like from you is actually not a big deal. Then we can call it even.” The phone on the desk chirped, and Zeus flicked out his hand to silence it before the first ring finished.

  Lexi might still be feeling her way around this side of the gods’ world, but she recognized when she’d been set up. “How convenient that you just happened to see we needed help. Have you been watching and waiting for an opportunity for me to owe you?”

  “I may have had the face recognition algorithms tweaked to search for your face. I assure you, it’s strictly to provide the safety I promised. I can’t be everywhere.”

  “Safety. Right.” Cerberus sounded as unconvinced as Lexi was.

  She didn’t want to b
e here any longer than she had to be. “What do we owe you as thanks?”

  “It’s a simple request and mutually beneficial. There’s not much time before Hades regains his strength. It’s best to cage him now, rather than waiting to see what happens when he’s back to full power.”

  “Why don’t we simply kill him?” Lexi understood why they hadn’t before. He was more powerful than any other god, and it took both Actaeon and Heracles to banish him. But they’d weakened him, so striking before he regained his strength made sense.

  Zeus’ smile implied she was being naive. “As much as I appreciate your bloodlust, how easy do you think it is to kill a god of death? He exists in that state already.”

  “There has to be a way to destroy his soul. Like what happened to Persephone.” Saying the words sent an unexpected surge of grief through Lexi and reminded her why Actaeon wasn’t with them right now.

  “Persephone was mortal, despite Hades’ energy running through her.” Hades power had granted her immortality through him. Usually when two gods had a child, their offspring was also a god. Sometimes though, as in Persephone’s case, the baby was mortal. “Hades is unique among all of us, and it takes a lot for me to admit when someone is more powerful than I am. Hades can’t be killed.” Zeus wavered on the last word.

  Even without the tell, Lexi felt the lie slide through her like slime. But the knowledge didn’t do her any good if she couldn’t determine the truth. “So... if you want us to go capture him, that hardly seems like a fair trade for your noble rescue today.”

  “The person who built the labyrinth—I’d like you to talk to him and get him to build another prison. A more secure one.”

  Cerberus snorted. “You asked him last time. Do it again.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Condescension leaked into Zeus’ reply. “Icarus refuses to work with me since this incident with Hades.”

  “Imagine that. They call him a genius for a reason.” Cerberus’ smug irritation drifted from him in waves, making Lexi squirm in discomfort.

  Being trapped between Zeus’ manipulation and Cerberus’ annoyance moved to the top ten on her list of least favorite things. “How does sending us to talk to him make things go any more smoothly?” She looked at Cerberus. “Do you know him? Is this something he’ll do because you ask?”