Page 62 of Sweet Obsession

“Gladly.” Athena continues to walk us through the plan.

It’s simple enough. As soon as we’re done here, we’ll split off to our respective launch locations and wait for the agreed-upon time to slip into the dark water and head for the ships. She’s planning on Icarus failing, which leaves us to deal with five ships. Each pair of boats willhit one, her and Hades’s people scaling the sides and going to our best assumption of where the captain’s quarters are—and where the rest of those in charge will be sleeping. After killing their targets and setting explosive charges, each team will make an announcement that the crew has fifteen minutes to abandon ship before it goes down—and that any attempt to make landing on Olympus’s shores will result in a quick and fatal end. Then it’s back to the boats and a quick retreat to shore, just in time for the charges to blow and sink the ships. Simple.

Except for the fact that there are half a dozen points off the top of my head where everything can go wrong. The captain’s quarters are nowhere near where we need to set the charges, and even in the middle of the night, there will be people awake and moving about. Getting to the designated locations will likely mean killing anyone we come across.

I glance at Icarus, seeing the same knowledge reflected in his expression. He doesn’t protest, though, likely for the same reason I don’t. There’s no other way. Making the announcement is a compromise Athena didn’t want to make, but it still feels like it’s not enough. There will be lifeboats to allow the crew to get to safety. Probably. The nearest non-Olympian coastline is only a few hours of rowing, which isn’t ideal but it’s still better than mass murder. I just hope they won’t try to row to the nearest shore.

Athena stops and turns to face us. “Anything to add?”

Hades shrugs. “Seems simple enough.” He glances at me. “The only risk is of one of her generals betrayingusinstead of Circe.”

“The generals won’t betray us,” I say. My face heats when everyone turns their attention on me, but I’ve dealt with the uncomfortable sensation of being the center of attention enough times inthe last few decades that I’m able to keep speaking. “Circe has no reason to expect them to sail away, and she certainly has no evidence to support an attack. She knows Olympus’s politics well enough to recognize that the Thirteen will never vote to go to war. Zeus’s coup will catch her flat-footed.”

“That’s the plan,” Athena murmurs. She cuts a look to Zeus, the threat clear in her tense stance. “Though the coup won’t last past dawn.”

As long as he keeps his word.I don’t say that aloud, though. There’s no reason to introduce doubt right now, when we need to trust each other the most. “When the other ships are gone, Hades’s people can continue with the plan to plant the charges and remove Circe and the others, and the rest of the boats will assist with the evacuation efforts.”

“Poseidon.” Athena sighs. “We’re under no obligation to ferry them to safety. To suggest that is absurd. They have their own boats. They’ll be fine.”And if they’re not, it’s not our problem.The unsaid words sit there in the space between us, the knowledge that most people in this room don’t care about an enemy crew, recruited under duress or not.

“I insist.” I look around, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “This all started because most of the people in this room stood by and did nothing to curtail the last Zeus’s abuse of power. If we want to end the cycle, this is how we do it.”

“They’re the enemy,” Medusa scoffs. “They wouldn’t give us the same courtesy.”

“All the more reason to extend it to them.” I speak softly, all too aware that Medusa has history with the title Poseidon. It’s myuncle’s abuse of power that resulted in her ending up under Athena’s command, indirectly responsible for her landing in the lower city. Knowing that makes me cautious with her.

Athena crosses her arms over her chest and glares. “Then you can play savior if you want. The rest of us will stick toourplan.”

Zeus rises, effectively ending the discussion. “Let’s get moving.”

There’s nothing left to say. It’s only as we’re walking out the door and breaking off to our respective destinations that I realize I should have pushed harder to keep Icarus behind. He keeps pace at my side, but it seems like every step he takes bows his shoulders more. I hate it. I want to protect him and I don’t know where to begin. “Icarus.”

He glances up. “Yeah?”

“It will be okay. I promise.” I hate that it feels like a lie, like I’m making a promise I can’t possibly uphold. But for him, it’s worth it.

33

Icarus

There’s a pair of low black boats waiting as our group files down to the docks. Even though I know better, I can’t help searching the faces of the people gathered for Polyphemus’s one-eyed gaze. A lot can go wrong on the waves in the middle of the night—in a fucking sneak attack—and it would be just my luck to get a knife between my ribs from him, instead of an Aeaean.

“He’s with Athena’s group,” Poseidon says softly. “Orion is with Hades.”

I glance at him, that warm and fuzzy feeling he brings about inside me gaining strength. Not only because he guessed the direction of my thoughts, but because he obviously took what steps he could to ensure my safety and comfort. A week ago, I would have laughed in his face and pointed out that there’s nothing safe about our plans, that he wasted that time and effort. I don’t. It would hurt him.

I want to gather up this evidence of his goodness in the palm of my hand, a light to hold the darkness at bay.

“Remember your promise,” I finally say. To live through the night. To be okay.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond. Zeus steps toward a boat. “Let’s go.” He pulls on a long coat he’s been handed over his fucking suit. I wish I didn’t get why he made that choice. We’re the ones confronting Circe—killing Circe, if Zeus has anything to say about it—and appearances matter.

Finishing the job his father started.

We file into the two boats. I stick close to Poseidon’s side, and despite Athena’s insistence that Zeus take his own boat, he ends up on my other side. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least.

My father was never much of a sailor, but I’ve spent a fair amount of time on sailboats and pleasure crafts since my teens. This boat is nothing like that. It’s low and sleek and it charges through the waves with dizzying strength. It’s also freakishly quiet. It feels like we’re flying along above the surface of the waves instead of on them.

Nausea slaps me in the face almost immediately. I press my hand to my stomach and close my eyes, but it only makes the sensation worse.

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