He looked into her eyes. If he kissed her now, she would let him. More than that, she would kiss him back. They both knew it, and neither moved.
It’s because he knows it’s wrong. He feels it, like I do. Our hearts, our desire will never be stronger than what stands between us. We are two different things. But oh how I want it, this time we have left.
Athena let her hands slip from behind his neck down to his shoulders.
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t let go of me. I haven’t worked up the courage yet, but I will.”
“You never lacked for courage,” she said, and pushed gently away. “It’s because it’s real now. And now that we can have it, you know it’s as wrong as I’ve always said.”
“That’s not it. That’s not it at all.”
He reached for her, as if he would prove it.
“Athena!” Hermes said, and burst into the room.
“Not now, mate,” Odysseus groaned. “There’s a sock on the door.”
Hermes narrowed his eyes and tore it off the knob.
“There’s not anymore,” he said, “and you two had better get downstairs.”
He turned on his heel and left, and Athena and Odysseus followed. When the stairs turned toward the entryway, Athena was greeted by a very unexpected sight.
Standing on her welcome mat, dressed in a navy plaid button-up with sleeves rolled to the elbows, was the god of death.
* * *
Athena had last seen Thanatos in Los Angeles in 1972. She’d been living there then, in a small, dusty apartment above a biker’s lounge. Most of her nights she spent on a stool, belly up to the bar and a line of empty beers, watching a band called Steve Hunger Road Show do their best impression of America. Steve Hunger Road Show. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought of them. Steve had been sort of a douche, but Mickey and Jim hadn’t been half bad. They’d been her friends.
And then one night she’d seen Thanatos’ pale face across the room. She’d invited him over for a drink, even though he made her skin shrink two sizes. They talked, and laughed, and she’d teased him a little, called him the “Goodnight Prince.” Seductive Death, always trying to make what he was seem beautiful instead of necessary. Before they said goodbye, she’d squeezed his hand.
The next morning, without word or notice, she abandoned her beloved dusty apartment. What became of Steve Hunger Road Show she never knew. Probably nothing. Or maybe Thanatos had been there for them, and the bar had burned down that night with them inside it. It didn’t matter. Where Thanatos was, she had no desire to be.
And now he’s here in my living room. Drinking my brother’s wine.
She didn’t even know Hermes had wine. He certainly never offered anyone else any. But it was the obvious choice. Even in rolled-sleeve plaid, Thanatos looked like a vampire god. She kept a close eye on his glass of wine as he sipped, curious to see if he could stick a finger in it and turn it into blood.
“Thanatos,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ares interjected. “He’s here for us. Death come to claim the dying gods.”
“Shut up, Ares.” Not that it would have surprised her. Thanatos’ eyes flickered over every inch of them as he sat, reclined comfortably in a chair. He lingered on Hermes’ gaunt face, on Ares’ seeping, mangled hand, on the dark circle of blood staining the side of her shirt.
“Did Hades send you?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen Hades. I came with Cassandra. She’s at her house now.”
“Cassandra?” A quick look passed between Athena, Hermes, and Odysseus.
“She found me in California,” Thanatos explained. “I’ve been trying to help her. And I’ve been failing.” The story slipped out of his mouth in low tones: Cassandra’s intention to rid the world of gods, Megaera’s end in the basement, and the Fury attack on the road. “And then we went to Athens. After Hades.”
Athens. Athena’s city. Hades was living in her city. Athena chewed her cheek until she drew blood; it tasted musty, like the inside of a birdcage.
So what? Athens isn’t mine to protect anymore. I couldn’t protect it, anymore.
“And then?” Hermes pressed.
“And then Alecto told Cassandra that Athena had taken in Ares and Aphrodite.”
Panic whined loudly from behind Ares’ knees. If Cassandra was home, she’d know Ares was there soon enough. The last time Athena got between them it had cost her a shoulder’s worth of feathers. This time would be much worse.