Page 60 of Dark Restraint

We’re going to have to talk about the fact that our own father shot at him. Somehow that’s so much worse than him ordering me dead. At least with me, he wanted to avoid doing it himself. Icarus doesn’t look well, but I doubt I do either.

We slip through the gate and walk down a narrow cobblestone path with plants in pots hanging from the walls on either side. Most of them are dead, and the one bright-green fern I see looks fake. It creates a strange atmosphere. As if we’re entering another world. It was kind of like that when we first moved into the manor house our father bought from Hermes. He did his best to sweep away any strangeness and modernize everything, but hints of it remained. Even if I didn’t know this was a house that belonged to her, the vibe would be telling.

The door at the end of the path looks normal enough, and it opens under my hand. I can’t help tensing in response. Nothing else has gone right, so why should this? But as we step into the house, it’s cool and dark and has the energy of a building long abandoned.

“What is this place?” Icarus moves deeper into the large open room we’ve entered. I think it’s a living room, based on the shapes underneath the white sheets covering the furniture. There appears to be art on the wall, but it’s also covered. For all that, there’s not a speck of dust to be found.

“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “Obviously she doesn’t live here full-time.” Or at all. It’s weird, though. Because I would bet good money that if I went to one of Dionysus’s houses in the countryside, it would look like he just stepped out for a minute. He has a full staff at all of his residences, with the sole exception of the penthouse, and only because he values his privacy. He has a cleaning service come in once a week, but that’s it.

I would expect the rest of the Thirteen keep their various holdings in the same standing, ready for them at a moment’s notice. So why not Hermes? Or why not in this place specifically?

“Let’s look around.” Sandwiched between two larger buildings, the windows offer little light. Either the person who built this home has a spiteful nature, or the house was here before the apartment buildings.

We walk through room after room, finding more of the same. All the furniture is covered. In the kitchen, there are some nonperishable items in the pantry, but the fridge has been wiped clean. I stare at a can of spaghetti. “Are you hungry?”

“Not particularly.”

“Me neither.” I glance at my phone again, but not much time has passed, and I don’t have any messages from Asterion. He said he would call, not text, anyway. I don’t know why I’m checking, except yes, I do. I’m worried about him. About us. About all this. “This has all gone to shit.”

“Of course it has.” Icarus stirs, giving me a wan smile. “I would’ve liked to slip out of the city gracefully instead of running for my life, but we work with what we have. Let’s sit before you fall down.”

I’m tired, but even with the frantic descent down the stairwell, it’s more stress than anything else to blame. The pounding headache starting behind my left eye is testament to that. It’s a relief to follow my brother to one of the bedrooms and watch as he pulls the sheets from a fainting couch, the bed, and the dresser.

When I raise my eyebrows at him, he shrugs unrepentantly. “I’m curious. So sue me.”

I almost sit on the bed, but even with how frazzled I am, if I go horizontal, it’s very likely that I’ll pass out. I don’t want there to be any chance I miss Asterion’s call.

Icarus digs through the dresser, muttering under his breath. I don’t bother to tell him that any secrets Hermes has won’t be hidden in the house she sent us to. Besides, we’re going to get out of here, and then we’ll never see any Olympians again. I lean back against the chair and let my eyes drift closed. “You’re wasting time.”

“We’ve got nothing but time to waste.” He opens the drawer and curses. “But even I draw the line at pawing through someone’s panties.”

I open my eyes and give myself a shake. I’ve had my phone in my hand the entire time, but I still glance at the screen and make sure it’s not on silent. “We’re going to get out of here.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He finally gives up on the dresser and comes to flop down next to me on the fainting couch. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“I know.” I study my brother’s face. I know the planes and angles almost as well as I know my own, but there’s something in his expression that makes him almost a stranger to me. “Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head sharply. “Your big brawny monster of a man threw himself in front of me. I don’t think I’m allowed to hate someone who took a bullet for me. It’s really fucking inconvenient.”

The reminder that Asterion got shot sends my heart racing. “He’s in no shape to be running around, doing whatever the fuck it is Hermes has him doing. If he gets killed for this—”

“He won’t.”

I give my brother the look that statement deserves. “You can’t just declare something to be true and expect the universe to conform to it. That’s not how any of this works. He’s only human.” And he’s been missing sleep. Running himself ragged as he tries to find a solution to get me out of Olympus. I want to believe that nothing on this earth can slow Asterion down, but that’s the dreamer in me talking.

“If someone was lucky enough to kill him, he’ll probably fight his way back to the land of the living to return to you.” Icarus shakes his head. “It’s scary the way he wants you, but there’s something reassuring in it, too. Anyone who tries to hurt you will have to go through him, and he’s a hard fucker to put down.”

It’s natural for my brother to prioritize my health and wellness over anyone else’s, but he’s looking at Asterion the same way our father does. As meat to be thrown into a grinder to serve a higher purpose. Asterion is worth more than that to me. He’s worth everything.

Icarus throws an arm around my shoulders and gives me a firm side hug. “Just rest, Ariadne. That’s the only thing you can control right now.”

“My phone—”

“I’ll keep watch. It’s the least I can do. We won’t miss his call.”

I don’t mean to close my eyes again. Really, I don’t. But the next thing I know, my brother is shaking me gently awake. I startle up, but he puts his hand over my mouth before I can speak. The light has changed in the room, the shadows longer and darker.

Once Icarus is sure that I’ll be silent, he slowly lowers his hand and speaks softly. “I thought I heard something.”

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