Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,26
up on smoothing out my pulse.
Oh no.
All this time, I’d been worried for my own survival. I’d been focused on my willful transgressions and atoning in whatever way could keep Maximus and me together.
More, I’d been completely wrapped up in Maximus. In all the fire and magic of our romantic relationship, falling for him in every wonderful way. Taking for granted that he could keep me safe until all this was sorted out.
It never occurred to me that he could be in danger too.
“Hera.” I whisper the name, for fear that saying it any louder might somehow draw her into our presence.
Gramps’s answering grimace tells me I’ve hit on the truth. Some unbelievable but equally frightening truth.
“But Zeus knows about Mother’s plan,” I argue. “He agreed to it. I’m pretty sure he helped craft it, in fact. It’s buying him time to work things out with Hades…”
“Are you certain Hades is the only one who needs appeasing?”
I shake my head because I’m not certain of anything. Z is an enigma. Charismatic and powerful. Calculating and evasive. Pretending I know his true motives would only further prove my own foolish ignorance. I’m more perceptive than any human I’ve ever known, but I have nothing on the gods.
“Past that, Zeus—myth or man—is the poster child for irrational confidence and blind ego,” Gramps continues. “How many times do you think he’s had to cover up his indiscretions over the eons?”
“Likely more than I can count, but why act on it now? Maximus is grown. And he’s not a threat to Hera.”
“He doesn’t have to be a threat. He exists, which means Zeus was unfaithful. Again. That’s enough for her to want to destroy all evidence of the affair or, at the very least, make Maximus suffer dearly for it.”
I shake my head frantically. “Why would Z put his own child in that kind of danger? It doesn’t make sense. He told us he’s been searching for Maximus for years, and I believe him. Why track his son down only to risk losing him?”
“I don’t know. But I suggest you find out what’s really going on here before Hera does.” He scrubs his hand down his face again. “Meeting you is either the best or the worst thing that could have possibly happened to Maximus Kane. Only time will tell.”
I brace my elbows to the table as the weight of his words clamps over my shoulders. Horror and hope clang through my thoughts, and I let the noise take over—until Gramps rises with a frustrated groan. He flips off the burner under the tea kettle. Then he opens a cabinet and yanks out a small tumbler before disappearing into the living room. When he returns, the glass is half full of amber liquor, but not for long. He shoots most of it down in a big gulp, wincing as he swallows.
“Gramps… Don’t you think it’s a little early for that?”
I’ve seen him pour a drink from time to time, but never while he’s been so distressed. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite like this. His gestures are jerky and impulsive, every movement loud for the way he makes contact with everything around him. At once, the din in my head is nothing but a dull roar.
“It’s a little late for it, if you ask me.” He tosses back the last of the liquor.
“Which means what?” I ask, not hiding my apprehension.
“It’s been years since I spoke to your mother. Really spoke to her.”
All my rattling anxiety heightens for a painful moment as I absorb what he’s saying…what he’s implying.
“Wait. What? You’re going to talk to her?”
“Hell yes, I am. I’ve let her run the show around here for years. I’ve been obedient, I’ve been quiet, and I’ve stayed out of her way, but this is where I draw the line. She will listen to what I have to say.” He illustrates that last point by jabbing his index finger in the direction of the main house.
Before I can talk him out of whatever he’s planning, he’s marching out the door. I’m tempted to tell him Mom’s not home, but I know she is. When I arrived, she was mercifully closed up behind her office doors, allowing me to sneak out to the guest house unnoticed.
Once inside, Gramps and I intercept her just as she throws the doors wide, her three black-eyed Chihuahuas and her assistant flanking her. My mother’s nostrils flare broadly the moment she notices us.