pretty. Now get off me.” Ares pushed at the bigger man until he relented. “You okay?”
He grabbed my hand, which was taking its sweet time healing. A pulse of power passed through me, speeding up the process, but I hardly noticed.
Hephaestus stood, towering above me, but that wasn’t what made me step back in fear.
Half of his face was an unrecognizable web of scar tissue. It looked melted. Skin hung in odd places, his empty eye socket drooped toward his nose. Like one of those Photoshop tricks where you click the mouse, and an image swirls into a grotesque parody of its former self.
“What happened to you?” I gasped. Gods could heal from anything, so what could possibly disfigure a deity? I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face. It rippled, like a current of electricity was passing under his skin.
“I took my weapons back.”
I shuddered as images of the long metal stakes bombarded my mind. Once upon a time, he’d created a weapon that could kill gods with a scratch, but they’d all been melted down centuries ago.
“I’ve told you a hundred thousand times,” he continued, glowering at Ares, “I don’t make them anymore. Bringing her along to charm me into it is just low.”
“I didn’t—” Ares started.
“Hey!” Hephaestus called, but it was too late. I’d slipped into the arcade and was looking around wide-eyed.
The arcade was really nice inside. Sure there were posters of video games plastered all over the walls, but the place had a sleek, modern look that appealed to me. The furniture was beautiful. Everything was made of hand-worked metal. I paused at a large table. Metal, of course, but it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. A myriad of colors—bronze, gold, silver, and every metallic shade in between—wove together to create a spectacular pattern of leaves. I felt like I was touching fall. I’d half expected bunk beds and empty pizza boxes, but this…
Of course the furniture was nothing compared to the tech. One wall showed a picture of heavily-armored, computer-generated people fighting some big, red, fiery…something. But the picture was moving. I tilted my head, searching the seamless wall for a screen. Glancing up, I followed a pattern of lights to a projector attached to the ceiling. The espresso-colored sofa on a wrought-iron frame was littered with keyboards, mice, and random game controllers.
“Dude! Heals? Where are you?” A nasally voice demanding answers drifted from the wireless headset perched on the ottoman.
“Get out!” Hephaestus growled, grabbing me by the shoulder and turning me around. “I didn’t say you could come in here.”
“Your teammates are dying.” I pointed to the wall.
He cursed and snatched his keyboard off the couch, typing at a rapid pace. I watched him play for a minute.
“Course that’s nothing compared to the death and destruction we’re going to see if Zeus gets his way.” I crossed my arms and moved in front of the wall.
Hephaestus paused, a scowl further twisting his mutilated face
I dropped my hands to my sides. “We were hoping you could help us.”
Fire sparked in Hephaestus’ eye. “I don’t make weapons anymore!”
“We have weapons,” Ares interjected from the door.
I looked at him. “We do?”
Ares grinned. “You’ve got me, don’t you? Plus that chick everyone keeps jabbering on about. Demeter’s daughter, what’s-her-face.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Hephaestus. “We don’t need your weapons. We need you and every god left. Zeus is powerful, and if we’re going to have any hope of winning…” I grabbed his hand, giving him a desperate look. If we didn’t defeat Zeus, I was done for. “Please. Help us.”
He started to object, but I squeezed his hand and looked him straight in the eyes…erm, eye, making sure not to flinch.
“Please.” I didn’t dare use charm. I didn’t want him to come looking for me later thinking he’d been coerced into helping.
Hephaestus looked at my hand for a moment, and his gaze softened. Then he looked into my eyes, really looked into them, with an expression I’d only ever seen on Hades’ face. Like he could see through me. But unlike Hades, he seemed to like what he saw. After considering for a long moment, he nodded, putting his other hand on top of mine. “Okay.”
He didn’t let go of my hand until Ares cleared his throat. “Right,” Hephaestus muttered, shoving past Ares and walking to the car. “I’m driving.”
What was it with gods and their inability to let anyone else drive?
Ares shot me a questioning look. “Did you