Zeus
I am awake, although I have no urge to open my eyes. None whatsoever.
Ambrosia wine takes longer to hit the gods, any immortals, but once it does, we’re out like the drunkingest drunks in drunktown. Drunker than any there ever has been.
And that means the hangovers are equally powerful.
A splash of icy cold hits me.
“Ahhhghhhh!” I sit up, electricity crackling in my hands, ready to smite the jackass who just drenched me in cold water.
But the crackling fades as I see Aphrodite and Davis standing in front of me.
I’m on the floor of the bar of DeLux Café. There may or may not be other people in the bar; I can’t tell. I can smell the ozone from the storm that I’ve brought to Purgatory.
It’s still raining outside.
“Get up,” Aphrodite says. “I brought your long-suffering right hand guy to help put you back together. You can’t be lolling around on the floor, Zee.” She sniffs and stalks away.
“Davis,” I say, not moving.
He’s at my side, helping me up, murmuring the kind of nonsense things that people who love you do when you’re a wreck. He gets me back into a chair. “Let me get you something to eat, Zee. Something not ambrosia.”
“That would be good,” I say. Even as a god, even though I live in my human form, and don’t really need food, I find that if I go too long, my human self gets weak. Add after a night of endless ambrosia wine?
I couldn’t rescue a kitten, much less find and beg for forgiveness from the love of my life.
As Davis hurries away, I sense another presence behind the bar.
Great.
Without looking up, I ask, “What do you want? Have you come to gloat?”
“You need to get your shit together,” Lucifer says.
Meeting his eyes, I don’t reply, only raise an eyebrow.
Since finding his true love, the king of darkness is different. I couldn’t tell you what it was, but he is. Sell, the whole cottage chic thing happening in the underworld is one thing.
“First, turn off the pissing rain. It’s getting on my nerves,” Lucifer says.
“It’s still raining?”
He rolls his eyes. “You know it is. Don’t make me grab my whips. Turn off the rain and get yourself together. This—” he waves a hand to indicate my state— “Is a disgrace.”
“Not sure you need to be calling names, Morningstar.”
“In my bar? In my Purgatory? I’ll say whatever I feel needs to be said. Get your shit together, old man. Your insistence at playing this intoxicated pity party act is bad for business.”
“There he is, the Lucifer I know and tolerate.”
“Same with you face down on the lovely tile floor, golden boy. You’re scaring the patrons.”
“You can stop yammering now,” I groan, my headache threatening to explode my eyes.
“Go and get your woman. So you fucked up. Big deal. We all do, even you, Zee. Go and find her. And make it right.”
I meet his eyes then. He’s not being shitty, or sarcastic. He’s actually being sincere.
“I would. But I don’t know where she is. I looked for her, really looked for her—and she was hidden from me. I can’t explain it, but she disappeared, literally. It was like she’d never been there.”
Lucifer frowns as he considers my words. “That makes things more difficult, but the people who are worth fighting for are worth all the fight. No matter how hard.”
We stare at one another. “You’re right,” I say.
“Great. I’d like that acknowledgement in writing, and a fat tip on the bill.” With a half-smile, and a tip of his chin, he glides away.
This will not be a simple payment. Oh, no. Not with Lucifer Morningstar.
“And turn off the damn rain!” he calls from a distance.
Rubbing my chin, feeling the stubble that I have in this human form, I stretch and walk toward the door.
Oh, hells. He’s right. People are scurrying to run through the rain, umbrellas and coats over their heads.
It’s really pouring. “Na stamatisei,” I say in Greek, waving my hand. The rain lessens, and then sputters, and it’s gone. Within moments, the clouds disappear, and the false sky that is part of Purgatory returns to its strange, sunny self.
The people still on the street look around, and a few of them laugh.
“About time!” The voice comes from somewhere within DeLux Café.
When I walk back inside, Davis has returned. He’s setting up a breakfast for me at the bar, and while he’s used to feeding my enormous appetite, there’s enough for both of us.
“So what’s the game plan?” Davis asks.
As I’m opening my mouth, Aphrodite bursts in. She’s accompanied by a small, fluttering something, a tiny black creature that is moving in a way that suggests distress.
Aphrodite looks somewhat distressed herself. “Zee! I’m so glad you’re still here!”
I get to my feet, eager to lend a hand. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. But you’re not. And neither is Jade.”
“What have you learned? Where is she?” I grip Aphrodite’s arms as fear—actual fear—runs like a blade down my spine.
She stares pointedly at my hands, and I let go of her and step back.
“Sorry,” I say.
“You’re forgiven. Zee, this is Penelope.” Aphrodite gestures at the little fluttering thing.
Upon closer inspection, it’s a bat. A tiny bat. When Aphrodite says the name ‘Penelope’ the little bat shifts in a blur and a lovely vampire appears. She is standing in front of me, a vision in black.
“Who is Penelope?” Davis asks for me.
“I’m Jade’s best friend. I think you’re the only one who can help her,” Penelope says to me. There’s no condemnation, no recrimination—only hope that I can be there for Jade.
Which means Jade told her and may not hate me.
I don’t know if that’s true, or just wishful thinking on my part. I have always tended toward optimism when it comes to getting what I want. That’s not always a good thing, but here, right now—it is. It’s all I have, and it shines like the tiny gleam of a chance.
“Where is she?” I ask. All the ambrosia wine fog is gone. There is only Jade. Getting her back, making sure she’s safe, and then… well, she can make a decision about us at that time, I suppose.
But only after she’s safe.
Consent is a thing. I hear Aphrodite’s voice in my head. And I will honor whatever it is Jade wishes.
“Can you fly?” Penelope asks.
I grin, feeling the thrill of battle come down on me like a mantle. “Lead the way,” I say.