Chapter 38 — At the Mercy of the Sea

"Have you heard anything I've said?" Poseidon crossed his arms, kicking the leg of the table to jostle her out of her head. Dark startled.

"Shit. Say it again," she grumbled, "I'm listening now." They were still supposed to be hashing out what to do about Athena, but Dark was having a terrible time focusing. He'd single handedly ruined her concentration. All she could think about was her current sex triangle. The shape would only continue to grow and twist as she took more lovers. If she took more lovers. He might have successfully turned her off of the whole idea.

What was so wrong about casual sex? Well, if she was being honest, his issue wasn't about who or how she was fucking, it was about Hades' mental well-being. It forced Dark to acknowledge that, though he seemed okay enough on the surface, Hades was probably very different underneath.

"I said we have to be careful not to lose our only current advantage," Poseidon said with more bite than was necessary. He looked incensed at having been ignored, as if he hadn't just thrust her into an awkward crisis. He continued, "Athena doesn't yet know we know. Which means neither does Asteria. That could be useful. And we need time to figure out more about the cyclops they're creating. I confess I never studied the iterations of Asteria's creations. If we blow this up by playing the information badly, Asteria could change her plans, maybe choose different monsters, maybe choose to create something totally new."

Still, Dark was only half listening. Hades had a grim look about him lately, she couldn't deny that. And as much as she wanted to focus on what Poseidon was saying, her mind kept going back to how afraid he'd been to drink from her in that bath. And how he almost hadn't stopped once she forced him. Of course, she could have made him stop if Tantalus hadn't intervened, but it was the wild thirst she'd glimpsed in his eyes that had her second guessing what they'd done that night. Her mind kept replaying every moment because suddenly she was wondering what it would take to sate that thirst.

When Dark didn't readily reply to Poseidon, his accompanying look was disappointed. As if she weren't quite what he thought she'd be, or as if he was scolding her for zoning out. Did he think she didn't take him seriously? Or perhaps he thought she didn't take Athena's threat seriously…Dark's teeth clenched. He started this fucking mess of doubts inside her head and now he was judging her for actually thinking about it? What an asshole. How was she to blame for being unable to fixate on both problems?

Regardless of her muddled brain, she forced herself to consider the point he was making about keeping Athena's betrayal between themselves. As far as what he was actually saying, she'd thought something similar to herself, but she didn't like their options. Every second Athena spent in their midst, at their meetings, was another second she had more intel to send back to Asteria. They couldn't risk it. But maybe they needed to. They needed to exploit every weakness they could.

"So, you think it's stupid to tell anyone yet, but what do you propose we do about Athena? Let her keep attending our meetings and seeing our preparations? We don't know how much Asteria already knows."

Poseidon seemed to ponder that as she thought of Hades once more. She decided there was only one thing to do, talk to him. Perhaps he would let her help if he could get past his stubbornness. Again, she felt a strange sensation of duty towards him. She needed to ensure he was in one piece, for when Angel returned, she owed her that much.

Dark rose from her seat, needing to stretch her legs and break the battle she felt trapped in. There was something about Poseidon that was getting under her damn skin. Everyone else just seemed to let her exist without kicking too much shit up about it, but him? He wanted to constantly chide her and berate her choices. She'd felt judged silently ever since the arena when he'd implied she was above such vengeful things, even though she really wasn't. And now she felt judged verbally. But she wasn't one to concede to her emotions, regardless of how upset it was all making her. She felt weak and that wouldn't do. Dark was petty and angry, callous and efficient, controlled and unattached. She was many things but never weak.

There were moments where she thought Poseidon understood her, like when he told her she needn't try to be Angel, and then moments where he seemed to hate the very core of her, like twenty minutes ago. It bothered her and she hated that it did.

Dark carefully approached the desk near the window, fully expecting Poseidon to continue their argument, and yet she was met with silence. She fingered some of the rumpled papers stacked and scattered, glancing down to find some letters signed in Cleito's name. They were worn thin and yellowed with age but sitting on top of the piles as if he'd just been rereading them.

She couldn't help but wonder what would drive a god to behave this way. She thought of what she'd seen so far from the others.

Zeus and Hera had a marriage born of power and necessity, even if they still had a close bond despite it. Yet, their closeness was not a substitute for love, and though she thought they were fond of one another, she couldn't imagine this level of reverence if one of them died. Perhaps vengeance, but not veneration. The two ideas almost clashed with one another. Hades and Persephone were yet another example of a bond that did not benefit their hearts, or so it would seem. He'd appeared ready to kill her in the arena and she him, especially once she'd gotten the taste of his power as she'd wanted.

Only with Tantalus, who claimed to love none but Angel, had she glimpsed even a moment of this kind of appreciation, or better named obsession. He'd kept Angel's room just as she'd left it. And like Poseidon, he'd killed her, betrayed her, abandoned her to her fate. It was odd, really, that the two gods who had the least reason to share anything with one another had the most in common. Both seemed to be holding onto a memory more than an actual person.

The only difference was Tantalus had left Angel's room as a shrine because he expected her to return. Poseidon knew his wife never would, and that was infinitely more puzzling.

She wandered to a small table near the bed and uncorked a vial of liquid that sat on a golden tray. Dark sniffed, enjoying the smell that reminded her of the sea. It was like a fresh spray of salt water mixed with the slightly earthy, warm scent of blood in her nose as she swam, of sun-kissed waves against her hair. Lovely, not really her taste, but lovely all the same.

"It was Cleito's favorite fragrance," Poseidon said numbly from behind her. She could hear the chair scrape as his feet shuffled to her side.

"I didn't ask anything," her brittle temper from earlier had snapped away into nothing. She was originally irritated by his lack of urgency, and at the trickery of bringing her to his home but, the rage was no more. They should already be in hell, explaining what they'd just seen, but…after what he'd told her in the cell…she could allow him this moment at home. "H-how do you have all this?" she waved a hand over the brushes and lotions, the perfumes and minor jewelry. "I thought you said you brought the ocean into the room. Why didn't it all wash away?"

When Dark turned to survey his face, she realized he'd closed his eyes, pain etching across his features and creasing his brow. She probably shouldn't have brought it up.

"The sea always returns the things I love. A gift and a curse, for sure. I've kept them ever since they reappeared."

"But not her?" she broached again. Gods, what was wrong with her? She knew she shouldn't say anything else on the matter, especially with the look in his eyes when he pried them back open. Hell, she should mind her business and let him keep his dead wife's secrets. Why did she want to know if he ever recovered the body? Perhaps being swept away was an honor. A sea burial. She shouldn't make him think of such things. But she felt curious? No, it was more than curiosity, but she couldn't quite name it. The more her mouth moved, the worse the sensation grew.

"It returned her too," his voice was almost too still, "Eventually." There was no emotion in it, though his eyes blazed and swirled gold like a storm was raging inside of him. And Dark felt something when she studied those eyes. It startled her. And because she felt off kilter ever since he'd scolded her…And because of that terrible tortured look on his face…And because she was feeling more and more at his mercy when it came to emotions, so much so that she was having trouble concentrating, she did something completely emotional and without an ounce of control.

She reared back and punched him squarely in the jaw.

Dark blinked, then took a step back. As if she couldn't believe she did it. As if something would happen to explain why she did it. She wasn't sorry she did it, just confused. Poseidon stumbled away from her, cupping his jaw, and cursing as cracks spidered up to his eyes, then cleared.

"What the fuck was that for?!" All that emotion seemed to drain from his eyes, replaced by something like amusement and surprise, with maybe a twinge of pain and delight.

"That was for nearly drowning me," she fumbled. Yea, that seemed reasonable. It certainly wasn't because he made her feel something, "Talking about your wife reminded me that I owed you for the water…" Shit, his eyes shuttered again and she mentally facepalmed. Stop making him feel things! She really needed to be careful of reminding him of his wife every time she opened her mouth.

Dark already gave peace between them the middle finger. So, there was no reason to hold back now. Why did he have to look at her like that? Like his world was only storms and dark memories. Like he had no anchor to hold on to when those memories came to swallow him later. So, she did what she could.

"And I still owe you for bursting my mother fucking ear drum, you prick," Dark placed the vial back down, dropping one leg behind the other as she prepared to lunge for him. Excitement raced through her. This—she could do. She could flirt and fight and fuck. That emotional stuff? That was Angel's bag. This was hers.

"Don't you fucking dare!" he warned, dropping that emotion from his eyes again into a teasing smirk. Despite his warning, he opened his stance more to prepare for her attack. He most certainly wanted her to dare. They both needed to release the tension they'd been holding. Dark leapt all at once, trying to slam into him, but he threw a water bubble around her and flung her through the bedroom door into the hall. It burst on impact with the hallway wall, sending her sputtering to the floor with a slurping sound. Asshole. Stupid, water-logged asshole. He sauntered into the hall without a care in the world, making wet squeaking sounds with his shoes as he crouched to her level. There was something about the smug look on his face that made her see red.

"Are you done?" he mused. His eyes lit with glee like he knew she was at his mercy. But she wasn't. Power thrummed through her in excitement. She wanted to let it out. She wanted to relieve some of the pressure inside her head.

"Now I owe you for that too," Dark laughed, on her feet in an instant and lunging for him again, this time using a stream of fire to singe his pants as he scooted away. He didn't even yelp, as if his skin were coated in a layer of liquid protection. Instead, there was a hiss of steam and the flames wicked away into nothing. Damn him, that should have at least got his skin crispy. She tried again, shooting flames to wrap around his thigh.

"Ah-ah-ah!" he teased with a wagging finger, dousing her and her flames in a swell of water again, "I don't like fire near my jewels, love." The gravel in his voice made her blood heat as he waited for his burst of water to wash her into the wall once more before finally dropping the liquid.

"More water…" she coughed, spewing fluid out of her nose, "What a surprise…Get a new fucking skill! What are you, some kind of one trick wonder?" Next time he hit, she needed to block. And she needed to figure out how he used water to coat his body without soaking his clothes.

"Not all of us were gifted with the entire array of powers, goddess, but what power I do have, I use well," the humor of his voice and its deep timber whispered through her, prickling and sinful. She couldn't get the double meaning out of her mind. She couldn't stop the second she spent thinking about him using his power on her naked body…Gods, she was a mess. How could she be thinking like this in the middle of a fight? He smacked her again in a swell of water, knocking her back to focus.

He smirked wickedly as she focused on using her water. In all honesty, she'd never spent much time using her water powers. She clearly had mastered little, if all she was capable of was a trickle of water in his ear like a magic walkie talkie. Fire was her default. Followed by the dark tendrils of pain she got from Asteria. But she wouldn't use those now against Poseidon.

She needed to up her sparring game with non-lethal but effective fighting techniques using her power. It had always been about killing before, and Dark wasn't sure what to subdue him with. She thought of the ocean, of the swell of the tide pulling her out to sea, the roar of waves crashing through the surf. Dark pulled that feeling into herself and then released it into the hallway.

"Shit," she barked a laugh as Poseidon flew down into the hallway table as a giant wave washed into him. The sound of wood cracking beneath him and a tell-tale oomph had her finally grinning. It was short lived though. Poseidon threw her into another bubble and launched her into another door, splattering her against a dusty closet wall on the other side. This time, her head smacked the frame of a shelf.

She returned his hit, flinging her power backwards, sending him into a guest room or something. And so, they continued, blasting each other into room after room with fumbling wild attacks as they grew more exhausted, wall after wall, until she finally sent them both tumbling down a stone staircase with a thump. Nearly two flights if the time it took was to be believed.

Her world spun and spun, then they landed on the hard stone floor of what appeared to be a wine cellar and her head cracked the ground so hard she saw spots. The stone splintered, matching the cracks on the side of her face. She groaned, realizing they were hopelessly intertwined as they fell. She heard the sharp curse as Poseidon reached for his own head.

Elbows near knees, arms under abs, they were only a collection of disjointed limbs. She fought against the sting of trying to pull her tangled body parts from his. He hissed as she accidentally kneed his balls, and despite the ache in her chest, she let loose a hearty laugh, wiggling her leg free of him. Dark sat up suddenly, then fell back down, vertigo speckling her vision. She smacked the floor once more with a thwack. Dark felt like she'd been hit by a truck and then drowned.

Poseidon recovered faster than her and took the opportunity to snap himself up and pin Dark beneath him, panting as he dripped water into her scowling face. She sent a small stream of water up his nose with a shit-eating grin.

"Are you done now?" he sneered angrily, gasping deep heaving breaths as he tried to clear his nose. It was as if she'd nearly drowned him too, though she knew it was probably impossible. They were pressed close, probably too close. She glanced down, finding their cores lined up perfectly, though she was sure it hadn't been his intention. They were close enough that it was impossible for Dark to imagine anything other than a hard, damp body touching her. And those liquid eyes that bore into the side of her face as he stared down at her.

Her head swam for the gutter, and all the delicious planes of his skin she could feel, tracking her eyes back down his translucent shirt to the thin material of his cotton pants. She wasn't nearly dated enough to keep her mind in check. In fact, all that talk of lovers earlier had her body already heated. How long had it been since she'd said anything? Shit. Good gods, what was his question again?

Slamming her eyes back up to his, she realized he was already watching her, as if completely aware of every dirty thought she'd just had. And he might have had a few of his own, judging by flared nostrils and blown pupils. Dammit, someone needed to say something. What the fuck had the question been? Something about being done fighting?

"Are you done? Can you get off me now?" she whispered, her voice breathier than she would have liked. It was as if she were painting her desire on her body, and he could see every inch of it. An hour ago, Dark wouldn't have given a shit about it. She'd have made the first move and rode that god like a wave. But now all she heard was the nagging little worries he'd given her. Gods that outline of muscle leading to the firmness growing between their legs. This was crossing all those lines he'd warned her about.

She dragged her eyes back up to his face and saw he was leaning closer now. She could feel the pressure of his stomach kissing hers as his elbows bent. Her pupils felt blown too and edging black. He leaned further, lining them up perfectly and stirring heat in her. Dark's lips parted to gasp a wet, sounding breath. His eyes were on her own translucent tank and the puckered nipples he found there.

"Am I?" he asked no one, nudging her thigh with his leg so he could better settle between hers, "No, far from it. Gods help my brother, but I can't stop myself." He swore, pushing a hand up under her tank top.

"This isn't very careful," she said, arching her chest closer to his as he teased a finger under her breast. She sucked in a breath.

"I tend not to take my own advice, it seems," he groaned, pressing a kiss to her at the exact moment his finger rubbed her nipple.

She opened to him further, letting his hot tongue sweep in and devour her. His palm worked its way sound her breast, kneading and massaging.

"I've always wondered how these felt," he breathed against her mouth, dragging her bottom lip as he moved that hand lower. His mouth was wet against her jaw, nipping and scathing her neck, her collarbone, the top of her shoulder.

A hand slipped beneath the band of her shorts, burning her with his dark gaze as her wetness slicked his hand. Then, his expression turned feral, nearly pained with want as he pushed her shirt up. Poseidon looked like he might just lose his mind as he studied her, but there was a flicker of something across his face. He shook his head and pulled back.

"Are you tempting me?" his voice cracked with desire.

Dark just stared at him for a moment, letting the words and implications sink in. All that heat he'd built up under her skin cooled to ice. Those stupid fucking feelings washed over her, and she had no control of it. She felt embarrassed, completely open and exposed beneath him. He had kissed her and yet he was asking if she'd made him do it. As if she had to force him to want her, to desire her. As if she were desperate. And in that accusation, he'd told her the silent thoughts that had slithered under all that advice. He saw her as manipulative, vindictive, and cruel. Enough that he thought she would force this so he could eat his words.

She saw it in his face, in that careful, angry expression. He believed she was using him to prove a point. Every ounce of desire dried up and blew away as she pushed him so hard, he hit the wall. She couldn't control her face, letting the flood of feelings show. Whatever he saw on her face had him looking regretful, like he might apologize, but it was too late. She had been stupid to get caught up.

"You think because you want me that means I tempted you?" Dark asked in a voice that sounded shockingly hurt. She stood quickly, adjusting her clothes until she was neat once more.

"Look, I didn't mean it li—" Poseidon started to say, reaching for her.

"Here you two are! Jesus, what the hell happened?!" Hyperion stormed over to Dark, inspecting her for injuries. He moved her wet hair to either side of her neck and, once satisfied that she wasn't hurt, he stepped back. She tracked his path back to the others, all standing in the back of the cellar, trying to make sense of the scene before them. Hades' eyes seemed to linger on her mouth before looking at Poseidon like he wanted blood. No one else noticed the silent exchange, but she did, and she didn't have time for it.

"It's not important," she sighed, "Let's just head home. I need to talk to Thia."