Whoever is in that helicopter is very, very rich, and very powerful. I didn’t have to know much about helicopters growing up with a wealthy parent, but I heard things from my friends. Learned to compare, at least superficially, so that I fit into the conversation.
Whoever is in that helicopter has more money than my father did. More power.
And if they’re here to help—
That means we’re incredibly screwed. If Poseidon needs someone this powerful to help him, then he must think we have our backs against the wall.
“Poseidon.” The helicopter is coming in for a landing on the ship’s helipad. Of course it has one, in a big, open space at the bow. The Trident didn’t have an official helipad. A visitor coming this way would have had to land in the middle of the deck. There would have been enough room, but here, there’s dedicated space. “Who’s that?”
His face hardens into a grim set. “My brothers.”
15
Poseidon
My brothers climb out of the helicopter as its rotor powers down. Hades is first, in black pants and a black T-shirt. He hasn’t worn a suit for the occasion, which is slightly shocking, though less shocking than seeing him in sweatpants on that video call.
Inside the helicopter, Zeus’s hands move over switches on the control panel. It takes him a minute to remove his headset and get out, and I feel like a fool, standing there with my hands in my pockets while one of my crew attaches the cables and Hades taps at his phone.
Zeus jumps out next, looking for all the world like he just strolled out of his office at the whorehouse. He doesn’t have a jacket on, either, but he’s dressed in suit pants and a spotless white shirt unbuttoned at the neck. He’s got the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Leave it to those fuckers to make me feel underdressed on my own ship.
Hades reaches up to his still-open helicopter door and beckons, and then—I’ll be damned. His dog gets out too. I should’ve expected it. Conor goes everywhere with him. Everywhere. Up until recently, I would have given him endless shit about it. Dogs don’t belong on ships, but I can’t talk now.
Conor, a huge black dog whose coat shines like the helicopter, does not think this is a good situation for Hades to be in. He nudges at Hades’ legs until Hades puts a hand down on his head. Zeus says something to him across the helicopter, Hades answers, and then they’re both walking toward me.
I don’t know what to do.
This is not anything I ever planned for in my life. They’ve never been on my ship like this before. Never together. I have no script for this moment. I never wanted this moment. Only now that it’s happening, I do want it.
More than I will ever admit.
I clear my throat and force past my own embarrassment. That’s what this is, and it’s fucking terrible. “You didn’t tell me you could pilot a helicopter, you asshole.”
Zeus, tall and golden and as much of a cocky son of a bitch as ever, grins at me. It is, I swear to Christ, the exact grin he gave me when we were six years old. I can see him now, sitting at that table next to Hades. “You never tell me anything, you cagey bastard.”
“I gave you the coordinates to my ship. What else do you want?”
They come level with me, and the three of us stand in a loose huddle. Conor sits next to Hades and leans against his leg, his body tense. Hades’ eyes are as black as they always are, which is to say, very black—only the thinnest ring of blue around his over-expanded pupils. Otherwise, he looks fine. He’s good at hiding his pain, so that might be it, or it might just be that he is fine, and Conor is trying to keep him that way.
“A meeting with whatever asshole sent you out here on an unfinished ship,” Hades says, coldly serious. “I thought that island had policies.”
“It did. Until someone fucked it up.”
Hades scowls at that. He doesn’t tolerate fuckups on his mountain, which is probably why he’s only invited me there a handful of times.
“Let him have the meeting,” Zeus says. “Maybe it will improve his mood.”
“Fuck off, Zeus.” There’s no hatred in Hades’ tone. He’s saying it out of habit, which is almost as bizarre as seeing him here in the first place. Hades has run a couple of missions with me in the past. It never gets less unsettling to see him outside the mountain.
“Don’t fuck off yet,” I find myself saying. “I’m glad you came.” It might as well be a foreign language, saying this to them. “Thank you. For coming.”
They both look at me with the same of-fucking-course expression, and it’s like a punch to the gut. None of us share any blood. We only shared that house.
If the two of them have that expression, it only stands to reason that I do, too.
“You’re our brother,” says Hades. “Obviously we came.”
“We didn’t have anything else to do,” adds Zeus. “Bailing out your sorry ass is just a way to pass the time.”
An outright lie. They have new babies on land—at Hades’ mountain, if Zeus’s Brigit is still there with Persephone. If Zeus and Hades are here together, then the women they love and their babies are probably together.
That’s what family does, I’d imagine.
It’s too sweet a moment, and I don’t know what to do with it. The sea breeze ruffles my hair. Same with theirs. And then Zeus clears his throat. “If you’re going to let us stay, we should get our shit out of the helicopter.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m a pirate, Zeus. I still have manners. It’s rude to kick people off your ship after five minutes.”
“Especially when they’ve arrived in time to keep the fucking thing afloat,” Hades says, and then the two of them go back for their bags. Conor stays tight to Hades’ side on the walk past the bridge, to the main deck, and down the stairs.
I stop in the hall between two doors and shoulder my way past the awkwardness that threatens to come back in full force. “This is you,” I tell Hades. “Zeus, you can have the next one, or the one after that.”
“What’s the difference?” Zeus asks with what sounds like real, normal curiosity. A casual question.
“The first one has blackout windows.”
Not much surprises Hades, but he looks at me like he’s never seen me before. “Here?”
He means on my ship. “Yes, asshole. I didn’t want you to become a problem in the middle of a firefight.”
His laugh is warmer than I’ve ever heard it. It still sends a chill down my spine, but at least it’s a familiar chill. “And you say we’re not brothers.” Hades opens the door to his room, waits for Conor to go in, and follows him.
Zeus stands in the hall, watching me with those golden-brown eyes of his narrowed in suspicion. “Have you been blackmailed?”
“No.”
“Threatened?”
“Obviously. That’s why you’re here.”
“Those windows cost a fucking fortune.” This from the man who doesn’t care about the cost of anything. Money’s a game to him. Secrets are his real currency. He shakes his head. “I’m beginning to think you’ve been body snatched.”