Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,57

the same these days. And it sure as hell doesn’t feel the same.

Maximus hasn’t been gone long, but I’m distracted by his absence. Strange, since I normally revel in this kind of silence, which was always a rarity in a Beverly Hills compound crowded by siblings, stylists, assistants, and housekeeping staff. But my thoughts are hopelessly muddled, my mind swimming toward some unknown point.

Only one thought bangs at me with aggravating clarity. I should have pressed Z more on details about last night’s meeting instead of assuming Maximus would fill in all the blanks. Because right now, there are a lot of blanks. The cryptic way Maximus left this morning, his brain a very different kind of muddled, makes me think there’s something he’s not telling me.

But I have to trust he will. It’s just that trust, in any of its variations, has never been a favorite concept of mine. When I was little, perhaps, and the word meant taking my first steps to Gramps or sharing silly secrets with Kell and Jaden. But as the years went on, trust became a stand-in for much different things. Like risk. And exposure. And vulnerability. And weakness. Concepts I couldn’t afford to indulge. Humanity I couldn’t admit to having.

I shake my head, banishing those moping musings before refocusing to my laptop and typing out the closing paragraph on the cantos summary that was due yesterday. I date the assignment for Friday, smirking as I do because I am more than willing to accept favoritism when it comes to this seminar. Of course I’m sleeping with the professor, but that’s not my justification. If sex and steam were the only things happening here, I’d have turned in the paper yesterday or accepted the consequences for my tardiness today. But Maximus knows, more than anyone, how taxing it’s been to keep up with anything school-related. I’ve scarcely had time for any of it until now.

I try to concentrate on the assignments for next week but end up staring out the window instead. Once more, my brain cells seem to drift like the motes on the canyon breeze across the patio. Nothing’s secure or solid. I need something to ground me.

I need someone.

But he’s not here.

My eyes land on the thick tome at the edge of the table. With a lack of anything better to do, I pick it up and flip through the Comedy until I get to the next reading assignment. It’s silly and I shouldn’t be in the mood to read about hell, of all things, but I convince myself that somewhere in these pages I’ll find some truth. Even better, some connection with my beloved’s mind in the absence of his body.

I let myself get lost in the poetry. In the strange budding friendship between Dante and his guide. In their faith and protectiveness and determination. Somewhere there’s hope, even as they take their first steps into the deepest recesses of the underworld.

“Rarely do any of us enter here,” I murmur, tracing my fingertip along the lines as I speed through the stanzas. “Take heart, that is the last depth and the darkest lair and the farthest from Heaven which encircles all.”

The front door slams closed, startling me away from the text. It can’t be Maximus. He promised to text when he was heading back. And Kell left an hour ago, mumbling something about a spa appointment to prep for tonight.

“Jaden,” I gasp with surprise.

My little brother saunters in like he owns the place, a sly grin painting his easy expression. He doesn’t need to own the place, because for nearly as long as we’ve been grown, he’s managed to get nearly everything he wants. The joys of being the baby demon in the Valari family, I suppose.

He strolls closer, his moves drenched in practiced grace. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a crisp white shirt unbuttoned enough to show a glimpse of the artwork tattooed on his chest. He’s got the kind of look that sells millions of gossip magazines whenever he graces the cover. To me, he’s just the kid who still steals my fries and coaches me about fidgeting too much. Jaden’s never fidgeted a day in his life.

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

He slips his mirrored aviators up into his dark-brown hair, its waves overgrown but sleek and unruly in that bad-boy way that makes him “perfect for the big screen,” according to our mother. His deep-amber irises swirl with mystery and