Page 67 of Sweet Obsession

“Circe isn’t the type to try the same trick twice.” He drifts to the mess of papers on the floor and picks up the note. “And no matter what kind of monster she is, I don’t think she’d blow this ship and its crew up—not even to get you and Zeus.”

“And Hades.”

He opens his mouth, seems to reconsider what he was about to say, and shrugs. “My father would make that play. The last Zeus would make that play. Circe is terrifying, but she’s terrifying in her intent. It’s more likely…”

I follow his thought, even though I desperately don’t want to. I clear my throat. “It’s more likely that this blockade was a distraction.” A clever one at that. She knew we’d vote and vote and vote again, trying to get the Thirteen to unite enough to stand against the ships. Just like she knew it wouldn’t work. While we were fighting each other, she was already moving onto the next step in her plan. “Are there even large-scale weapons on thePenelope?”

Icarus laughs bitterly. “I have no idea, but now that you’ve asked the question, I think we know the answer, don’t we?”

I feel sick. This has all gone so wrong. It’s been going wrongfrom the beginning, but I had no reference for the sheer gauge. “If Circe isn’t here, if these ships were never meant to attack Olympus, then where is she?”

“I have a feeling we’re going to find out, sooner rather than later.”

35

Icarus

It takes over an hour to root out every crew member and arrange them on the deck, sitting cross-legged with their hands laced behind their heads. As I suspected, not a single one of them put up a fight once the officers were dealt with. They all surrendered the moment they realized there was an attack.

They all…recognize me. Just like the person in the shower—who we’ve now recovered and brought to the deck. As I walk in Poseidon’s shadow, I hear the whispers.

“Icarus…”

“That’s Icarus Vitalis…”

Zeus stalks in front of them, his movements still too jerky to fully pull off his customary ice-king routine. He’s been questioning them for twenty minutes with little success.

They don’t know where Circe is. None of them even saw her at all, which confirms what we suspected about her not being on the ship for any length of time. They were recruited with the promise of steady wages and a nice bonus when they returned to Aeaea—one that would be paid out even in the event of their death, as long as it happened in the pursuit of Olympus. It’s an offer designed to pullin those with poverty’s boot on their necks, and the great irony is that the leaders of Aeaea could have fixed the poverty levels if they’d been less greedy. Instead, they recruited people who couldn’t afford to say no to being cannon fodder.

It pisses me off.

I rub my arms, disliking this new sensation. I’ve spent so long only caring for myself—and Ariadne—that I don’t know how to deal with this feeling. I can hardly go back to Aeaea and expect to have the power to change things.

Except you’re technically your father’s heir, no matter how little he wanted you. You’ve likely inherited everything.

I stop short. In all this frantic scrambling and free-falling of the last couple days,thatnever sank in. My father is dead. Gone forever. That means his extensive holdings and properties are all mine and Ariadne’s. Without him hanging over my head as a threat, Icango back to Aeaea. My father held significant influence among the wealthy. I might not have his charm, but I know all their dirty secrets.

I could…make a difference. I think I evenwantto.

“We’re done here.” Zeus spins on his heel and stalks to where Bellerophon and the others wait by the railing. He stops halfway and looks back at us. “If they give you any trouble, kill them.”

“Absolutely not.” I’m speaking before I can fully process that I’ve stepped forward—stepped between Zeus and the Aeaeans. “No one is touching them.”

Zeus turns to me. The survivor in me, the one who will do anything to save his own skin, screams that I need to do something to draw his attention away from me. But that survivor isn’t the onlyvoice inside me.These are my people.I don’t recognize the feeling of those words, but they resonate in a way that snaps my spine straight.

“I will not risk Olympus because of your misguided heroism,” he snarls.

I laugh. I can’t help it. “I’m no hero. But Iwillhold you to your word. Or is that as changeable as your father’s was?”

The calculated words hit their mark. He doesn’t react, other than to turn away. “Get them out of my sight and bring the ship round by morning.”

“We’ll see it done,” Poseidon says quietly. He places his hand in the middle of my back as we watch Zeus stalk away. As soon as the blond man vanishes from sight, Poseidon turns to me. “You should talk to them.”

“What?”

“The crew.” He watches me carefully. “They recognize you, the same way the person down in the cabin did.”

“I have a recognizable face.” The words are right, a perfect side step, but I can’t help turning to the crew. It’s easy enough to pick out the leaders among them. They’re the people the others crowd around, the ones who move with a little more steadiness, trying to bolster everyone’s courage. It’s false bravado, but I respect it.

---