Calliope smiled, and a rush of power so ancient it didn’t have a name spread through her. With Ingrid nothing more than a distant memory, she stepped forward, and the anger she’d harbored for so long f inally found its purpose.
“Hello, Father.”
CHAPTER ONE
RETUR N TO EDEN
When I was a kid, each fall my teachers had the class write and present one of those horrible “What I Did Last Summer” essays, complete with pictures and funny anecdotes designed to make a classroom full of bored students pay attention.
Each year I sat and listened as my classmates in my New York City preparatory school talked about how they’d spent the summers in the Hamptons or in Florida or in Europe with their rich parents, or au pairs, or as we grew older, boyfriends and girlfriends. By the time we reached high school, I heard the same glitzy stories over and over again: escapades in Paris with supermodels, all-night parties on the beaches in the Bahamas with rock stars—every student vied for attention with exploits that got wilder every year.
But my story was always the same. My mother worked as a f lorist, and because most of her income went to paying for that school, we never left New York City. On her days off we spent our afternoons in Central Park soaking up the sun.
After she got sick, my summers were spent in the hospital with her, holding her hair back as the chemo attacked her system or f lipping through the television channels looking for something to watch.
It wasn’t the Hamptons. It wasn’t Florida. It wasn’t Europe. But they were my summers.
The one after my f irst six months with Henry, however, blew every single summer my classmates ever had out of the water.
“I can’t believe you’d never swum with dolphins before,” said James as I drove down a rough dirt road that didn’t see much use. We were back in the upper peninsula of Michi-gan and surrounded by trees taller than most buildings. The closer we got to Eden Manor, the wider my grin spread.
“It’s not like we had a ton of them in the Hudson River,” I said, nudging the accelerator. We were so far from civi-lization that there weren’t any posted speed limits, and the last time I’d been down this road, my mother had been too ill for me to risk taking advantage of it. But now, after the council had granted me immortality, the only thing I risked was my old beat-up car. So far, I liked the perks. “I’m more impressed with the volcano erupting.”
“No idea why it did that,” said James. “It’s been dormant for longer than some of us have been alive. Might have to ask Henry about that when we get back.”
“What would he have to do with a volcano?” I said, and my heart skipped a beat. We were so close now that I could almost feel him, and I drummed my f ingers nervously against the steering wheel.
“Volcanoes run through Henry’s domain. If an old one’s going off like that, then something’s up.” James bit off a piece of jerky and offered me the rest. I wrinkled my nose.
“Suit yourself. You realize you’re going to have to tell him about everything we did, right?”
I glanced at him. “I hadn’t planned on otherwise. Why?
What’s wrong with that?”
James shrugged. “Nothing. I f igured he wouldn’t be too thrilled with the idea of you spending six months in Greece with some handsome blond stranger, that’s all.” I laughed so hard I nearly drove off the side of the road.
“And who was this handsome blond stranger? I don’t remember him.”
“Exactly what you should say to Henry, and we’ll both be in the clear,” said James cheerfully.
It was a joke, of course. James was my best friend, and we had spent the whole summer together touring ancient ruins, vast cities and breathtaking islands in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Maybe one of the most romantic, too, but James was James, and I was married to Henry.
Married. I still wasn’t used to it. I’d kept my black diamond wedding ring on a chain around my neck, too afraid of losing it to wear it properly, and now that we were only a mile or so away from Eden, it was time to put it back on.
I’d struggled to pass the seven tests the council of gods had given me to see if I was worthy of immortality and becoming Queen of the Underworld, and because I’d won—only barely—Henry and I were now technically husband and wife.
With the silence between us for the past six months, however, it didn’t feel like it. I hadn’t admitted it to James, but I’d spent the summer glancing around in hopes of seeing Henry in the crowd, there even when he wasn’t supposed to be. But no matter how hard I’d looked, I hadn’t seen any sign of him. Granted, half a year was practically a blink of an eye for someone who had existed since before the birth of humanity. But surely a sign that he missed me wasn’t too much to ask for.
During my winter with him though, I’d had to f ight for every small step forward. Every look, every touch, every kiss—what if six months apart brought us back to square one? He’d spent a thousand years mourning his f irst wife, Persephone, and he’d only known me for one. Our wedding hadn’t been the perfect ending to a wonderful love story. It’d been the beginning of eternity, and nothing about our new life together was going to be easy. For either of us.
Especially considering that on top of adjusting to marriage, I’d have to learn how to be Queen of the Underworld, as well.
And no matter how many years I’d spent caring for my dying mother, I had a sinking feeling none of it would help when it came to ruling over the dead.
I pushed my worries from my mind as the black wrought-iron gate of Eden Manor came into view. New York, school, my mother’s illness—that was my past. My mortal life. This was my future. No matter what had or hadn’t happened during the summer, I would have the chance to be with Henry now, and I wasn’t going to waste a moment.
“Home sweet home,” I said as I drove through the gate.
I could do this. Henry would be waiting for me, and he’d be thrilled to see me. My mother would be there, too, and I wouldn’t have to go another six months without seeing her again. After nearly losing her, spending the summer without my mother had been torture, but she’d insisted—this f irst summer was my own, and she and Henry wouldn’t be involved. But I was back now, and everything would be okay.
James craned his neck to look at the brightly colored trees that lined the road. “All right?” he said to me.
“I should be asking you that,” I said, eyeing the way he drummed his f ingers on the armrest nervously. He stilled, and after a moment I added before I could stop myself,