disingenuous. “I’ll bet.”
We stood there for half a minute, silently smiling at each other, until my cheeks hurt.
Hermes arched his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
My first instinct was to say no. Hell no. I didn’t trust Hermes. Letting him into my home seemed like the antithesis of a good idea. But I didn’t have much choice. If I refused, he’d just force his way inside. And my gun was in the bedroom, on the nightstand. I groaned inwardly. Why me?
“Well?” Hermes said.
Reluctantly, I stepped aside.
Hermes nodded appreciatively. He stepped inside and immediately started looking around the apartment, his hands behind his back. Sporadically, he chuckled and shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, closing the door.
“Nothing, Mr. Jones, nothing at all,” Hermes answered, grinning.
He took a picture down from the mantel. A photo of my parents, Socrates, and me. We stood on the front lawn of our house. It was summertime. I was five and wearing a sailor suit, the kind with shorts and suspenders. My mom said I looked precious in it. I remember feeling stupid.
“You have a lovely family,” Hermes said.
I was so uncomfortable having him in my place, I barely noticed the compliment. Herc was the closest thing to a God that had been inside the apartment. I’d wanted to keep it that way.
“Did you get my message?” I asked.
Hermes returned the picture to the mantle. “I did.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
Hermes lifted his brows. “Indeed?”
“She has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone.”
“I will, provided you do as we ask.”
“Here we go with this again.”
Hermes removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dusted off the couch. He sat down and crossed his legs. “Zeus would like to have a word with you. He has a proposition that might interest you.”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the door. “Let me guess. I investigate the murder, and you promise not to hurt Alexis.”
Hermes shrugged.
I wanted to smash his face. But I had seen what he was capable of, and I wasn’t interested in taking a second look. “I should’ve known you guys would pull something like this.”
“You left us no choice. This matter must be resolved as quickly as possible. The stability of Olympus depends on it. So what’s it going to be, Mr. Jones?”
What else could I do? Alexis and I weren’t on the best terms, but I couldn’t let her come to harm because of my feud with the Gods. Playing hero sucks.
“Let me call my secretary and tell her I won’t be in today,” I said.
“I knew you’d see things our way. Your ex-wife is quite lovely after all—and fragile, very fragile. But I suppose the same can be said about all humans.” Hermes smiled, flashing a perfect set of teeth. “Now make yourself presentable. Zeus is waiting.”
23
I arrived at Zeus’s around 10:00 a.m.
The King of the Gods spent most of his time in his private estate, high atop Mount Olympus. Perched on the edge of a cliff, the main building was accessible only by helicopter. With its clean white exterior and futuristic design, it looked like an alien spaceship on stilts. Rich people had strange tastes.
Hermes and I entered the mansion through a pair of sliding glass doors. The interior was simple but modern, with a lot of solid colors, stainless steel, and rounded corners. Curved walls enclosed the room. The place was impressive to be sure, but it lacked warmth. Literally and figuratively—the air conditioner was cranked up so high I could see my breath.
In all, the estate felt more like an office building than a home.
Hermes showed me to Zeus’s office and told me he’d wait outside. Glass made up the entire room. I wished I’d brought along a large rock.
Dressed like a spokesmodel for a Big & Tall suit shop, Zeus sat behind a glass desk at the head of the room. Light winked off the gold and platinum threads woven into the fabric of his charcoal suit. The
We stood there for half a minute, silently smiling at each other, until my cheeks hurt.
Hermes arched his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
My first instinct was to say no. Hell no. I didn’t trust Hermes. Letting him into my home seemed like the antithesis of a good idea. But I didn’t have much choice. If I refused, he’d just force his way inside. And my gun was in the bedroom, on the nightstand. I groaned inwardly. Why me?
“Well?” Hermes said.
Reluctantly, I stepped aside.
Hermes nodded appreciatively. He stepped inside and immediately started looking around the apartment, his hands behind his back. Sporadically, he chuckled and shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, closing the door.
“Nothing, Mr. Jones, nothing at all,” Hermes answered, grinning.
He took a picture down from the mantel. A photo of my parents, Socrates, and me. We stood on the front lawn of our house. It was summertime. I was five and wearing a sailor suit, the kind with shorts and suspenders. My mom said I looked precious in it. I remember feeling stupid.
“You have a lovely family,” Hermes said.
I was so uncomfortable having him in my place, I barely noticed the compliment. Herc was the closest thing to a God that had been inside the apartment. I’d wanted to keep it that way.
“Did you get my message?” I asked.
Hermes returned the picture to the mantle. “I did.”
“I know what you’re trying to do.”
Hermes lifted his brows. “Indeed?”
“She has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone.”
“I will, provided you do as we ask.”
“Here we go with this again.”
Hermes removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dusted off the couch. He sat down and crossed his legs. “Zeus would like to have a word with you. He has a proposition that might interest you.”
I crossed my arms and leaned against the door. “Let me guess. I investigate the murder, and you promise not to hurt Alexis.”
Hermes shrugged.
I wanted to smash his face. But I had seen what he was capable of, and I wasn’t interested in taking a second look. “I should’ve known you guys would pull something like this.”
“You left us no choice. This matter must be resolved as quickly as possible. The stability of Olympus depends on it. So what’s it going to be, Mr. Jones?”
What else could I do? Alexis and I weren’t on the best terms, but I couldn’t let her come to harm because of my feud with the Gods. Playing hero sucks.
“Let me call my secretary and tell her I won’t be in today,” I said.
“I knew you’d see things our way. Your ex-wife is quite lovely after all—and fragile, very fragile. But I suppose the same can be said about all humans.” Hermes smiled, flashing a perfect set of teeth. “Now make yourself presentable. Zeus is waiting.”
23
I arrived at Zeus’s around 10:00 a.m.
The King of the Gods spent most of his time in his private estate, high atop Mount Olympus. Perched on the edge of a cliff, the main building was accessible only by helicopter. With its clean white exterior and futuristic design, it looked like an alien spaceship on stilts. Rich people had strange tastes.
Hermes and I entered the mansion through a pair of sliding glass doors. The interior was simple but modern, with a lot of solid colors, stainless steel, and rounded corners. Curved walls enclosed the room. The place was impressive to be sure, but it lacked warmth. Literally and figuratively—the air conditioner was cranked up so high I could see my breath.
In all, the estate felt more like an office building than a home.
Hermes showed me to Zeus’s office and told me he’d wait outside. Glass made up the entire room. I wished I’d brought along a large rock.
Dressed like a spokesmodel for a Big & Tall suit shop, Zeus sat behind a glass desk at the head of the room. Light winked off the gold and platinum threads woven into the fabric of his charcoal suit. The
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