Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,55
wrapping her arms all the way around my waist. “So grab some coffee and get to work on…whatever you have to do. Patience isn’t exactly my strongest virtue.”
I drop my head down as she pops hers up. Our lips meet in a sweet but sizzling kiss. It’s over all too soon. “Ah, but you have so many other virtues that are better.”
She smirks. “Says the demigod who took the obvious one?”
“A gift I treasure every day,” I whisper.
She presses a kiss directly over my heart. “For that, Mr. Kane, I’ll even get your coffee for you.”
“Oh, baby.” I sniff her lingering curls again. “I’d seriously love to take you up on that and more. But I was thinking I would head over to Recto Verso. I can grab a coffee there.”
She flashes a new frown. “Do you need to grab something from your place for tonight? Mom had your suit and shoes delivered straight from the tailor. And the Gold Circle Dinner is at the Huntington Gardens, out in Pasadena. You’d be going way out of the way.”
“No. I’m good for tonight.” I gently kiss her forehead. “Thank Veronica for me. She’s been generous in handling all that stuff.” For once, I’m actually grateful for it too. I now have time to do something more important than worrying about looking the part. “I have to go to Recto Verso.”
“Okay.” Confusion knits her brow again, though she doesn’t press for details this time. Not a shock, considering how my turmoil is probably hitting her like a wall of bricks. Soothing her is out of the question, though. If I comfort her, I’ll want to do more. And more will have to wait until I get a handle on the possible depths of Hades’s mental fuckery over me.
To do that, I’ve got to get a better handle on who I really am. I’m pitifully lost about the answer, which even Z couldn’t supply after a few hours in a buzzed haze. All I got was a sheepish admission that, despite siring a staggering number of half-breeds, he’s never taken much of an interest in demigod biology. The only factor he can confirm is Hades’s inability to perform his nifty memory-harvesting thing on any full-blood deity.
While that revelation has me relieved for Z and Po, I’m back at a lot of square ones in my own bizarre journey. Is Hades capable of wreaking more kinds of cerebral chaos on my gray matter? If so, what’s his play now? How far does the demon’s spite go when Po’s lies are added into the equation? How much flesh does he plan on taking out of my hide for Kara’s offenses? Or Z’s? Mistakes during years I don’t even remember?
Right now, there’s only one person I know who might have any of that information. The former Olympus security guard who’s serving coffee in downtown LA right now.
I get to Recto Verso as the morning crowd is starting to thin. In the seating areas, there’s only a small book club and a few students in Alameda sweatshirts. Outside, the air is edged with the salt from the new onshore flow. Inside, the rich caffeine scents are tinged with pumpkin and caramel.
As I hope—and in more than a few ways, dread—Regina is front and center behind the counter. Her braids are piled atop her head, intermixed with a long red scarf that compliments her faded T-shirt.
“Good day, superstar.” She bids me to sit by thwacking a towel toward one of the stools at the counter.
I opt for standing, but that’s not an alarm-dinger for her. I stand at the counter a lot.
“So sorry. If I’d known you were coming ’round, I would’ve ordered up the paps for a nice warm welcome.”
I give her a half snort for that, more out of habit than anything else. It hits me then, a brand-new epiphany. Habits. How many do I have with her? Too many to track. So many that don’t feel ingrained from that first day we met in the store. They’ve felt strangely…older. Easier. Like my whole relationship with Reg. An odd deja-vu I’ve always sensed but never questioned, figuring I owe the universe some gratitude for a friend who’s always been so easy and knows me so well.
But now what do I feel? Knowing she’s been part of the grand cover-up? Knowing she was the one who set it in motion?
To keep me safe.
From what? Or, if Po is to be believed, from whom?