Page 62 of Ungodly Rich

Julia and Abby had a different song for every year? As Hera would say, that feltexcessive,but a part of Aphrodite was jealous. She wondered what it felt like, making that sort of memory with a friend.

Julia’s brow furrowed, and she reached for her bag. “I think Harry might be calling—”

“Let him wait! This isyournight,” Aphrodite protested, pulling Julia onto a table. “Come on, you’re getting married!”

Julia played right into her hands. She downed the vodka Red Bull and then a tequila shot; she laughed alongside Aphrodite, bumping her hips and tossing her sweaty hair in dance moves that were more ridiculous than suggestive. Aphrodite hated Julia a little bit, for being so beautiful and carefree even in her drunkenness. She glanced to the corner and caught the gleam of a camera lens in the dim light. Perfect.

“I love you so much, Abby,” Julia half-shouted, throwing her arms around Aphrodite. “Thank you for tonight. I needed this.”

With her arms around Aphrodite, her heartbeat elevated from the alcohol and adrenaline, Julia seemed so painfully human. So frail. Was this how Aphrodite had felt to Hephaestus back when she was mortal—her body so breakable, so small?

Why does Ares want to marry you?she thought in bewilderment.What makes you special?

Then she remembered that she was a goddess and could get answers.

“So. What is it about Harry?” she asked, over the thump of the music. She wasn’t Hermes, able to coax humans into spilling their secrets with the magic of his voice, but she could reach into Julia’s mind, could make herwantto share secrets with her best friend. She cast her powers toward Julia, seeking the knot of her desires—

Nothing. She felt like she was hurling her power toward a smooth, blank wall.

“What do you mean? What is it about Harry?” Julia repeated.

Aphrodite tried to focus. Human desires were so easy to find, a pulsating knot of need and craving and envy all tangled together in their chests. She reached for Julia again, but still, she felt nothing.

She’d depleted her powers today. Aphrodite couldn’t remember if she’d ever shape-shiftedtwicein a single evening. She was going to have one hell of a magic hangover when she woke up, her immortal body stuttering to refuel after she’d pushed it to the breaking point.

But she couldn’t go home yet. The night was young, and Julia wasbeing so obliging, embarrassing herself in ever more incriminating ways.

Aphrodite reached to tug one of the straps of Julia’s dress down over her shoulder. The woman was so oblivious that she didn’t even notice. Perfect.

“Should we get another drink?” Aphrodite suggested.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hermes

Hermes had done some pretty weird shit for the other gods, in his unofficial role as errand boy–slash–private investigator. He’d tracked down one of Artemis’s lost tigers, only to find that the creature had been kidnapped by that Joe Exotic guy. He’d rigged the Nobel Prize in physics for Athena and the Grammys for Apollo. Once he’d even infiltrated a Michelin-starred restaurant because the pastry chef refused to give Hera his mocha cake recipe. It turned out that the recipe wasn’t written down, so Hermes couldn’t steal it—he’d had to pose as a busboy and take an illicit video of the chef baking the cake, all so that Hera could re-create it for Zeus’s birthday.

But as he watched Julia dance on tables with her best friend, Hermes realized that this was a first. He had never before crashed a bachelorette party.

Julia’s head tipped back at something her friend said, and she laughed—a laugh so simple and bright that Hermes felt slightly jealous. His emotions were never uncomplicated. There were always nuances to the way he felt, always strings attached. But seeing Julia, he feltalmost nostalgic, if it was possible to be nostalgic for something you’d never felt.

Then Julia swayed, nearly tumbling off the table she was perched on. The friend threw out her arms to catch Julia, and Hermes sighed. Too bad Ares could only regulate adrenaline and cortisol, a power tied to his role as god of war, helping humans conquer their fears. Julia was going to feel awful tomorrow. And Hermes doubted that Hera would offer to mend the woman’s hangover.

When he was near Julia and her friend, he pretended to look up in surprise. “Julia!” he shouted over the din of the music. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

Julia’s smile broadened. “I had no idea you were coming to my bachelorette party!”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Hermes held out a hand to help Julia down, then did the same for her friend, who moved with visible reluctance. “Nice to meet you,” he introduced himself. “I’m Harry’s cousin Percy.”

The woman didn’t provide her own name. “Sorry, but this is a private event.”

“Abby!” Julia scolded, or rather, slurred. “Percy is the cousin I told you about—theniceone. The rest are all so bitchy.” That last was said in a drunken stage whisper.

Oddly, Julia’s words sent a warm glow through Hermes’s chest. “Can I give you a ride back?” he offered, ignoring Julia’s overprotective friend. “I was just on my way out.”

“No, don’t go!” Julia wrapped her hands around Hermes’s wrist, tugging him in the direction of the dance floor. “Stay and dance with us!”

“I’ll get her home safe, I promise,” Abby added, eager for Hermes to leave.