Heart of Fire (Blood of Zeus #2) - Meredith Wild Page 0,73
a couple of jokesters out of his medieval lit class. Though I have a decent idea about his intention this time, I still let out a surprised yelp when he gets to my side of the truck and then reaches in for me.
“Maximus,” I scold once he carries me across the road but shows no sign of slowing down. “Come on. I can walk the rest of the way.”
“In those stilts?” He nods toward my feet and the glittering four-inchers strapped on them. “In this gravel?”
“You ever walk a red carpet between Piper Blue and half the cast of a new Marvel flick?”
Any witty reply he might have is stunted when we reach the front entrance and Maximus eases me down to my feet once again.
Like many of his neighbors, Rerek’s front entrance is miniscule but classy. There’s a small balsa wood planter, multi-tiered, that at first glance is filled with typical California succulents and field grasses. It’s centered around a small stone and glass fountain that’s supposed to make people think Rerek—or at least his decorator—has been somewhere like Solvang, Santa Barbara, or Laguna Beach. Maximus actually stops to admire the artsy setting, but I hurry past it. I know what the rest of the world doesn’t—that the grasses are cultivated from vain sinners forced to part with their hair and the cute pebbles in the fountain are trophy teeth taken from history’s most notorious traitors and murderers.
I rush up the steps and wait, now a little jittery, for Maximus to catch up. The last time I graced this entry, I’d been in a more accepting headspace of all things demon. But even then, Rerek was never like other demons. I hope, yet doubt, that’s changed much. Still, as Maximus and I walk through the already-open front door, I hang on to Jaden’s recent theory about Rerek mellowing out. I’ll know whether that’s true the moment I see.
Inside, a definite aura of underworld energy fills the place, despite its all-white decor that’s interrupted only by gaudy throw pillows and pathos-drenched sculptures from a thousand eras ago. But no way is everyone in this place an actual demon, unless there’s been an odd Tinseltown recruitment campaign that I don’t know about. If that’s the case, then Hades has definitely targeted all the beautiful people. They’re here in every shape, color, and size, primped in their trendy party finery—which should have them fawning all over each other like the trained courtesans they are.
But that’s where the real disconnect begins.
There’s nothing lively about this bunch. As I gaze over the throng, mingling with high-end cocktails and plates of expensive canapés, I wonder what golf match they must be waiting on at this late hour. It’s strange—really strange, for a crowd of people who should be vying for buoyant social media exposure—but true. I’m barely sensing pulses from any of them, let alone thoughts and feelings. But they are alive, proven by their relaxed sways to the music that comes from the ceiling speakers.
Maximus cocks one brow my way before muttering, “And I always thought Jesse threw weird parties.”
I side-bump him with appreciation for the humor. “Let’s find Jaden.” As I say it, I focus on the beach just below the outside balcony. “I have a good idea where we can start.”
Besides, the bonfire out on the sand looks too fun to resist—and after the insanity of the last couple of days, some fun sounds like total perfection.
We manage to avoid any awkward introductions on our way to the back deck, which connects to some shallow concrete steps down to the sand. The moon is full and the breeze is brisk as we abandon our shoes and step out on the sand toward the two silhouettes outlined next to the bonfire.
They don’t see us yet, laughing while staring into the dancing flames of the big blaze. But my impression has yet to be validated. I’m not sure Rerek Horne has ever enjoyed a real laugh in his whole life. While his wavy black hair, lean stature, and Italianate lips are similar enough to Jaden’s, Kell’s, and mine that he’s often mistaken as a Valari, the similarities are only skin deep—and I’m happy to let it stay that way.
I’ve never understood Jaden’s draw to the demon, who seems to have been in a centuries-old funk since most of the Egyptians stopped believing in him. He and Jaden connected back when we were kids, when Rerek was on a victory high after orchestrating the Fukushima