“It will set off an alert if used.”
“Then how do we sneak on?”
“I will remain in the boat. When they come to investigate, I’ll say I came to stop the wedding to my intended bride.”
“What? Wait. No.”
“I don’t actually want to marry Theodora, Kennedy.”
I roll my eyes. “That is not my problem with the plan, Connolly. You’re throwing yourself at their mercy as a distraction. And then what? We rescue Theodora and leave you to take the fall? Possibly a literal fall, off the gangplank.”
“There isn’t a gangplank. They’ll just toss me overboard.” He lifts his hands. “I’m joking. I will go in there, full of righteous fury at being robbed of my intended, and then I will storm off in a huff when I realize she doesn’t want me. By the time I leave, you’ll have Theodora.”
“No one who knows you is going to buy that for a second.”
He straightens. “Are you implying I wouldn’t come to your rescue, were you kidnapped for a forced wedding?”
I pat his arm. “I mean the righteous fury and indignant huff. They’ll know you’re acting.”
“Again,” Athene cuts in. “You two are adorable. However, Kennedy is correct that, while Aiden’s plan is noble, it won’t work. I will take that particular role in this scenario, minus the fury and the huff. Also minus the betrayed bridegroom. You will sneak on, and I will distract them, having tracked my father and come to stop the wedding. He will believe that, and it won’t bother him overmuch, as I have been ‘sticking my nose into his business’ since I was a child. He’ll resolve the family squabble with me while you rescue Theodora.”
“Great,” Mercy says. “Then we’ve got ourselves a plan. Can we get on with it? Before someone hears us chattering out here?”
“Let the rescue effort commence,” Athene says. Then she pauses. “First, though, let me give you some advice. Potential strategies, depending on what you discover inside.”
Mercy groans but waves for her sister to go on, and Athene does.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Thirty-nine
We’re on the yacht. That took a combination of powers: Athene’s illusions, Connolly’s luck and Mercy’s sneak skills. Yep, curse weaving is pretty much useless in spy craft. I don’t even have my damn 8-ball, having been left in my purse back at Connolly’s place.
Connolly’s power is much more useful in a situation like this. He doesn’t use good luck. That would cause a re-balance, which he cannot afford here. Instead, when a crew member gets close, he pulls the same trick his father did on me—throwing a little bad luck the guy’s way, which also charges up Connolly’s good luck. Sigh. I really need to work on my superhero skills.
We leave Athene behind to face Zeus’s wrath. Or his amusement, apparently, because as he comes down to meet her, it’s obvious he isn’t even vexed. Just amused.
Mercy leaves us the moment we’re certain Zeus is distracted and no one thinks there are other stowaways. Her job is to double-up on her sister’s role—standing by to provide distraction, in case Connolly and I are spotted. We need to get to Theodora. If she’s with others, then Mercy will take on her secondary disruption task and lure away whoever is with the bride-to-be.
And where would we expect to find a bride-to-be on her wedding day? In her room, getting ready. Or in her room, being held captive until the ceremony.
Connolly leads me to a stairwell and then up. “Her room is the third down,” he says. Then he pauses. “Which I know from when we were children.”
“I wasn’t going to make any assumptions, Connolly,” I say. “And if there was another explanation, I’d only care if you found your way to that room tonight.”
He shakes his head. “Theodora and I never . . . Well, there may have been a kiss. But we were twelve.” He stops. “I didn’t need to disclose that, did I?”
I lean over and kiss him lightly. “You did not. However, now that you did, I think it’s adorable. Third room, right? And we should presume there might be people in other ones?”
He nods. We’d heard the sound of merrymaking earlier, and Connolly had said it was coming from the front deck, where he could make out the voices of Theodora’s parents. We hadn’t heard Theodora herself, and we’re hoping that means she really is in her room.
We creep toward her door, listening at each one we pass. They’re all quiet, and when we strain, we can still hear the party going on upstairs. Apparently, no one is the least concerned about Athene being on board. Zeus will handle it.
At Theodora’s door, we listen for an extra moment. Then I tap one fingernail against the door, and we wait, Connolly poised with a shove of bad luck if a guard answers. When the door finally cracks open, it’s Theodora. She doesn’t open it the rest of the way, just stands there, face against the crack, eyes widening as she sees me.
“Kenn—”
I motion madly for silence as Connolly moves where she can see him and whispers, “If you’re not alone, make an excuse to come out.”
She throws open the door and waves us inside. When the lock spins in her fingers, she hisses in frustration, as if she’s forgotten they disabled it.
“What are you two doing here?” she whispers.
“We’re your shotgun-wedding rescue team,” I say. “We know what’s going on.”
“How much do you know?” Connolly whispers.
“That my parents have sold me to Zeus, who is apparently an actual person.”
“Okay,” I say. “That’s pretty much the story. We have a boat outside. We can get you out of here.”
She empties her expression. “I appreciate that, but I’m fine.”
“You’re . . .?”
“Fine,” she says firmly. “I’m going to marry the king of the gods, and apparently I’m a god myself.”
Her voice hitches with barely suppressed hysterical laughter. She swallows it back. “Sorry, let me rephrase. He’s an immortal. The most powerful immortal of all. I’m merely semi-immortal—a demi-god, if you will. Seems like a match made in heaven. Or Mount Olympus, at least.”
“Theo,” Connolly says, his voice steady. “What have they given you? Something to eat? Drink?”
“No, Aiden, I’m not drugged.” She meets his eyes. “Pupils normal, yes? I might feel as if I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone, but it’s a good shock. I am about to win the ultimate status marriage. The epitome of feminine ambition.”
She shakes her head. “Sorry, yes, I might not have been dosed, but I am a little giddy. Light-headed, I think. I haven’t eaten since last night. I can’t take the chance they will drug me.”
She straightens. “I’m doing this because I want to. No drugs required. No shotguns either. Now I really do appreciate what you two are doing—and I owe you for taking the risk—but you need to go before someone comes to get me.”
“No drugs or shotguns required,” I say. “Just a boyfriend, held captive until you go through with the wedding.”