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Hera sputtered.
“I am not hurt. Why ever would I be hurt?” She almost pushed Nemesis away, but at the last second remembered that all eyes within the establishment were on them. Instead, she moved closer, lifting her hands into the gloriously flowing mahogany tresses.
“How about we forgo psychoanalysis and you tell me why I have not heard about Zeus’s yacht meeting some kind of terrible fate.”
Nemesis did not reply immediately, but turned Hera in a smooth as silk maneuver so she could see the gaggle of gods and goddesses watching them. She was surprised to spot Sabine Goddard there as well. She was eyeing Zeus suspiciously. His face upon seeing her sizing him up was almost comical.
Well, she did “request” that the Cupid do her bidding.
Next to Goddard was a whole gaggle of deities and muses, hiding their faces and mouths behind their drinks.
“They are talking about you. About us, Hera.”
Hera traced Nemesis’s sharp jaw with a fingertip. Since they were putting on a show, they might as well make it a good one.
“Be that as it may. The yacht? Did it burn? Were the flames tall and splendid?”
“Did I promise to burn the yacht?”
Hera felt her color rise, angry heat tinging her cheeks.
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought.” Nemesis pulled her closer still, lifting her thigh around her hip. The bears cooed collectively. Aphrodite clapped.
Zeus choked on his drink, coughed then yelled, “Revenge, what do you think you’re doing?”
Nemesis ignored him and dipped Hera low, almost impossibly low. Hera felt her hair touch the smooth floor, her heart hammering in her chest.
“I say, you will drop her, Revenge!” Zeus almost jumped on the dance floor.
“Baby?” The woman next to him gave him a strange look and grabbed his muscled arm. The God of Thunder shook his head as if trying to come out of some kind of bewitchment. Sabine Goddard failed to hide a decidedly evil grin. Hera’s stomach clenched with acknowledgement.
Zeus finally clenched his fists and bellowed, ruining the moment. Obviously. “Ahem… I say… Hera! Was there not to be some kind of entertainment here tonight? Or is your dancing supposed to be it? I admit, we have all gotten a bit tired of that. It has been quite long after all…”
Nemesis’s eyes had gotten impossibly colder, shards of ice, sharp enough to cut. She lifted Hera out of the dip and set her gently on her feet before letting her go. Hera blew her bangs out of her face, missing the chill of those fingers, the strength of those arms, suddenly uncomfortable with being the center of attention.
Since when? Since when are you?
“I believe the poker tournament is about to start!”
Erato’s voice was loud, the bears proceeded to intone “Po-po-poker face!” along with the Muse, leading the way towards the side room and the club split into the dancing crowd who were not bothered by the exclusive tournament, the rich but not rich enough patrons who crowded in to observe and the richer than everyone else who got chips were seated by the reverential bears at their respective tables.
Hera exhaled. At least some things were still running well.
“Are you joining us, Your Majesty?”
Nemesis lifted her hand to her lips, and Hera felt the earlier heat slowly rise up her neck. She was grateful for the candlelight. A glass shattered in their proximity. Hera watched Zeus drop the pieces on the floor and blow on his fingers, blood marring her precious carpets.
“Are you playing then, Nemesis? Be ready to lose everything!” His voice was gruff, probably clouded by pain.
Before Hera could reach out and, out of sheer habit, heal his palm, Nemesis stepped closer to him, extending her hand, almost forcing him to shake it, her high boots stepping into the mess his blood was making on the floor.
Hera chose not to dwell on the symbolism.
“I’ll see you at the tables, old man.”
“How dare you—” Zeus yelped as Nemesis visibly squeezed his still bleeding palm.
