“No time.” He turns back to the monitors. “We already have a summons from Perseus—Zeus—for later this morning. I know we wanted to hold him in reserve as a last resort, but that ship has sailed, and honestly, if he hadn’t summoned me, I would have called him and arranged a meeting.”
Because Aphrodite has escalated things. I think a part of me still believed she was bluffing until now. She’s not, which means we need bigger guns than either Eros or I can bring to the fight. I take a slow breath. “What’s the plan?”
“There’s no hope of keeping this under wraps. Even if the assassin doesn’t talk, we have to tell the truth or risk the entirety of the Thirteen coming down on us, which would put all our shit public. At least Zeus has motivation to find a solution behind closed doors.”
The sinking in my chest is reflected in his face. “He’s not going to side with us against Aphrodite. She’s one of the Thirteen.”
“There are specific laws within the Thirteen against going after the others and their families. That’s what we’ll play on.” Eros sighs. “If it were the old Zeus, I’d agree with you that it’s a long shot. But even if we’re not really friends anymore, I’ve known Perseus since we were kids. He’s not going to let my mother get away with this.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he’ll decide that the stability of Olympus is worth more than our lives.”
“He won’t let her kill you. No matter what else is true, Perseus isn’t his father. Trust me, even if you don’t trust him. We’ll see what he has to say and go from there.” Eros glances at his watch. “We need to leave in two hours.”
I don’t know how he can be so calm when something truly disastrous is welling up inside me. I have to get some distance between us, to move and expel some of this awful feeling inside me. The longer I stand here, the more the events of last night wash over me in waves. The fear when that man raised the gun and pointed it at my face, the horrible knowledge that the glass wouldn’t hold forever… It was nothing compared to the terror I felt when Eros appeared and tackled the guy.
By nature, I face hard truths. I might lie to most people in this city, but I can’t survive by lying to myself. I know what that fear means, even if I’m not ready to admit it to myself. “I have to go.”
He jerks like I’ve struck him. “What? You can’t leave.”
“Not leave. Go.” I’m not making sense. I know I’m not making sense, but I can’t seem to help myself. Panic is clawing its way up my throat. I back through the door. “I just… I can’t.”
“Psyche, wait.” Eros, my terrifying monster of a man, actually looks concerned about me, which only makes my panic worse. When did I start looking at him like a man and not an opponent? It’s too much. It’s certainly too soon.
I keep backing away, and he keeps following me, still looking confused and concerned. At least he keeps his distance, but it’s not nearly enough for my state of mind. “Talk to me.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do this.”
He shadows me down the hall, keeping a careful distance between us even as he reaches for me. “We’ll find a way through. Her people won’t touch you.”
But they won’t have to, will they? A hysterical laugh bubbles free. Aphrodite won’t have to take my heart, because Eros is in danger of completing that mission already. He doesn’t need my literal heart in his hands to crush me beyond repair. He’s already too close, too overwhelming, too damn much. I back into the foyer, the room of mirrors, and jerk to a stop when faced with dozens of our reflections bounced across every available surface. “Eros, I—”
He moves faster than I expect and grabs my hands. A light touch, but I already know that if I yank against his hold, I won’t be able to get free. “Please,” I whisper.
“Talk to me,” he repeats. “I can’t fight what I can’t see.”
Oh gods, I really am falling in love with this man. I close my eyes and a single tear slips free. I can’t control how I feel—I’ve already more than proven that—but at least I don’t have to tell him. I don’t know how he’d react, and I honestly can’t stand the thought of coldness creeping into Eros’s eyes in response.
Instead, I choose a different truth. “I’m scared.”
He looks actually pained. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I should have expected her to strike like that, and I didn’t. It won’t happen again. I realize that you have no reason to trust me because of what I am, but…”