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“Hecate’s not the same,” Jaden counters, “and you know it. How much time does she really spend up in Zeus’s ’hood?”
“More than Maximus ever has!” I start to pace. I can’t help myself. “I’m sorry, but that’s a weak take. They’ve got to have something more substantial for that garbage to stick.”
“None of them flung it as garbage,” Jaden counters. “Like Kell and me, they all think your guy is the real deal for uncompromising character. If he were just a regular mortal, we’d all be fighting about who gets to walk you down the aisle at the wedding.”
I startle. As in, he might as well have lit a fire at my toes. “Who’s talking about awedding?”
Sure as hell not me. Not any hidden little girl inside me either. Not since I was told, from the age I could comprehend the concept, that I’d be marching down the aisle with a demon who’d be handpicked to deflower me. Like giants, beanstalks, and glass slippers, I’ve always known a fluffy white dress and harp-accompanied poetry are the stuff of my life’s fiction, not facts. Jaden should be more than aware of that too.
“Okay, so your love shack buddy,” he revises. “The main point is, nobody’s denying they really like him. It’s just his lineage that’s a liability here, in one form or another.”
“Or another,” I echo in a bitter bite. “So how many forms are they trashing on?”
Jaden cocks his head back with such force, it’s like he’s auditioning for a hair commercial. “Somebody voiced concern about where Maximus’s real loyalty lies. They talked about his recent reconnection with Zeus and even brought up the fact that Daddy Dearest popped inherewhen Maximus summoned him the other day.”
I shake my head. “They didn’t do afternoon tea or anything. Z was here for all of five minutes.”
He throws both hands up. “Just relaying it like I heard it.”
“And I’m thankful,” I mutter. “Sorry.”
“You’re good,” he soothes. “All of this has been more than the usual stress.”
“You can say that again, but please don’t. Just…go on. What else did they say?”
As he considers his answer, I engage in a fast gut check. Something’s weird here. Something more than the strangeness that’s already been here, at least. But it’s not fully formed yet—and I don’t want it to be. My heart’s already racing, anticipating what it’s morphing into.
I just know that I don’t like it. Not by one awful shred.
“They talked a lot about payback—more specifically, the kind Maximus might mete once he learns how Hecate’s positioning him as her pawn for the big play.” He pinwheels one hand again. “And yeah, I’m direct quoting.The big playis what they said.When and how and why, I have no idea—merely that one person suggested he should be graduated to rook or knight, considering all the servicing he was providing for the Iremia princess.”
My psychological gnat looms bigger now. “And they were serious?”
“Well, they weren’t completely kidding.”
Right away, I tell myself to slough off the comments as easily as I would any gossip reporter taking potshots at my love life. But I’m barely concerned about the last half of Jaden’s account. It’s the other stuff that stabs in the hardest. That now has me pacing the fastest.
“The big play.” I twist it verbally, matching the torque with my coiling fingers. “What does that even mean? And why is Maximus a necessary part of it? And if they’re wigging about his reprisal about it, why not mine too?”
“Maybe it’s a compliment of sorts,” Jaden ventures. “You’re one of them now. Part of the squad. A fellow diamond and all.”
“Not to the point that I’ll turn against Maximus.” I wheel around and scuff to a strict stop. “Not for Hecate. Not for any of them.”
For a long moment, Jaden’s still and quiet. The air itself goes just as taciturn. The pause is odd, as if dictated by a movie director. The birds are silent. The wind is dead.
I wish my psyche was equally acquiescent.
Even before his steady nod, I see that he gets it.Seesit. He knows even he and Kell are second priority to my pledge to Maximus. If anything, his salute seems stronger because of it. Imbued with respect that wasn’t there before. But that’s not enough to quell the rest of my havoc. The bridges that sprawl in my brain, alarmingly incomplete. Needing so many more details. For any kind of final conclusions—or feelings.
Except for regret.
That one’s having no trouble clicking into me. A solid, sinister lock.
Why didn’t I take Maximus more seriously yesterday? Why didn’t I heed the anxiety in his face, the concern in his voice? Why did I insist he’d simply jumped to strange assumptions and that his misgivings were based on misperceptions?
Now…I don’t know what to believe.
Do I still listen to the need to justify it all away? To assume that a quick conversation with Hecate will clear this up? To theorize that in Iremia vernacular, preparing for war is just a euphemism for getting ready for the grocery store?
