Page 206 of The Games Gods Play
She nods, lips thin. “But I still don’t know what Hades is thinking,” she says. “Opening Tartarus is dangerous and not possible. Not without all of us.”
Aphrodite turns her face away from me, gaze seeming to search the stark white wall opposite. Then she takes her own deep breath, a small sign that tells me how shaken the goddess is. “If Jackie was closer to winning, I would offer to save Boone for you.”
I sit back slightly. My proposal to the other champions really has made the rounds.
“But not Persephone.” Aphrodite returns her gaze to mine. “I won’t tell Demeter this secret.”
Shock reverberates through me, straightening my spine and slashing my brows in a confused frown. “What? Why not?”
“It could start another war between us, and after the last one…” Her eyes darken with pain. “I can’t risk that.”
A war?
Sadness lingers in her expression. “Demeter almost burned down Olympus the day Hades told her Persephone died. He was smart to tell her that lie. Kind, too. If she knew her daughter was alive and where she is—” She shrugs. Then a frown slowly tugs at her features. “I’m guessing Hades doesn’t want anyone else to know?”
I say nothing.
Aphrodite lets out a low whistle. “And yet you’d trust me with this?” She stares, her expression inscrutable, then softly says, “I’m honored. Truly.”
I offer her a crooked smile. “I think you’re one of the good ones.”
Which makes her chuckle. “We’re all equally good…and bad. Just like mortals.”
“Some of you are worse than others,” I mutter darkly.
Aphrodite rolls her eyes. “Athena is…who she is. Zeus, too. All of us, really. We are what we were born to be. Better than the violent Titans but far from perfect.”
“Well, either way, after this is over, I shall pray to you often.”
Aphrodite’s smile is sincere and shows the depth of her heart for just a moment. “Take care in the last Labor, Lyra. I would like to hear those prayers.” She goes to the door and lifts her hand to knock, only to pause again and shoot me a devilish grin over her shoulder. “Moan.”
“Huh?”
She gives me a pointed look. “Mental orgasm, darling. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Oh.
It hits me what she wants me to do, which is put on a show.
Awesome.
I do my best, moving to lie down on the bed and rumple the sheets so I look appropriately thrashed, which is kind of hard to get enthusiastic about in the moment. Then I let out a keening moan, followed by a healthy, “Oh god.”
“Goddess,” she whispers. “Don’t forget who I am.”
“Oh goddess,” I cry out louder. Then again for good measure.
With an eye roll, she knocks, the door opens, and she’s gone.
Leaving me alone with a thousand competing thoughts.
In my short amount of time being locked up here, I’ve gone over every moment with Hades. Everything he’s said and done. For most of the time, my own heartache had me convinced that the way he was with me—the looks, the touches, the fact that he shared parts of himself with me—was an act to manipulate me. He saw my weakness for him and used it to keep me on his side and fighting to win the Labors. I even, for a second, convinced myself that his offer to help Boone was a lie.
Except he swore on the River Styx. That’s a sacred oath to the gods.
Something else he said comes to me now. Someday, I’ll tell you the rest, and I think you’ll agree it was a good reason… But I’m not sure now that it’s good enough for what you are having to pay.
What I am having to pay.
