Page 26 of The Cursed Chalice
“The kid can’t stay.”
Hecate stands and dusts her pants off. “She is, and so is the nanny.”
“What nanny?” I ask.
The surrounding air grows cold and heavy. My stomach rolls with nausea. I groan as a twirl of black smoke appears. A tall man in a dark green suit steps out of it.
Hecate chuckles. “Hello, Deimos.”
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Deimos says as he bends to kiss Hecate on the cheek.
If Deimos is here, it’s likely Phobos already informed him about last night. That’s the problem when you work with twins.
“What have you been up to?” Hecate asks.
Deimos sighs in boredom. “I am trying to be an insensitive fuck. But everyone is on anxiety meds. Xanny, Zoloft; they can take what they want, the shit will never work.”
“I have been hearing about the friends that you are keeping, D,” Hecate states.
Deimos smiles, and his dimples deepen. “Me? Are you sure?”
“Yes, heard there was an orgy on a yacht owned by an incubus.” Hecate raises her eyebrows, daring him to deny it.
Deimos strokes his chin. “Well, I tend to make friends with people who are scary, violent, sweet, yet perverted. I keep it niche.”
“It’s very telling.” Hecate licks her lips and smiles.
“Is it?” he replies.
I watch as both Hecate and Deimos continue flirting. Meanwhile, here I want to kick them both out so I can figure out what the hell to do. My world is spiraling, and they are flirting.
I feel anxious; my soul feels heavy and full of dread… Of course it does. Deimos, the literal god of dread…is here.
Before this flirting continues, I interject. “How can I help you, Deimos?”
Deimos’s gold gaze flicks to mine. His eyes are beautiful but uncanny. “Well, Father, I was sorely disappointed that you invited Phobos to your mini massacre and not me.”
“With that, I am leaving. Taking one of your cars,” Hecate states.
“She has to take the kid, Aric.”
“Hecate, the kid! She can’t stay!” I shout.
Hecate’s laughter echoes through the room.
Where Phobos’s demeanor is calm, Deimos’s is a chaotic ball of energy.
Deimos drops into the chair beside me. The gold chains around his neck glitter as they catch the sunlight. “So you got the infamous chalice. When do you make her fall in love? Do I get to help you kill her?”
“I will not manipulate her. She doesn’t die,” I reply.
Deimos passes his hand through his dark hair. “Is this a joke? You’d rather be a god stuck in mortal skin than kill this woman?”
“It’s a life, Deimos.” After living as a demigod, I learned to appreciate the little things in life. Something feels wrong with me just taking someone’s life away.
Deimos bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes narrowing at me. “It’s a life? You’re the God of War, for fuck’s sake. When have you ever cared about a mortal’s life?” He rakes a hand through his hair again. “I’m billing you for this conversation. It’s pathetic.”
I remain silent, hoping he will take it as a cue to go away.
