Henry took a deep breath.

“What do you say to a double-cheese Hawaiian pizza?”

*   *   *

Even though it was an odd meal, eaten between estranged and hated family members, Stanley’s Wok had never tasted better. Not even the sound of Panic and Oblivion crunching through chicken wing bones could put Athena off her food.

“The house looks great,” she said.

“What?” Hermes asked. “You thought I was going to trash it? I’m the only one who does any cleaning around here. And now it’s going to smell like dog.”

Ares scowled near the kitchen sink and fed Oblivion another wing. The wolves didn’t, in fact, smell like dog. They smelled like blood if they smelled like anything.

She’d need to decide what room to give to Ares. And he’d need a few sets of clothes. Nothing Hermes had was likely to be of his taste, and probably wouldn’t fit anyway. Ares had several inches on Hermes around the shoulders and chest, even before Hermes started to lose weight. Odysseus’ shirts would be tight, too. But maybe something of Henry’s.

She stuffed the last of her sesame beef into her mouth and pushed away from the table. Her room, her bed, and her widow’s walk called her name.

Everything in her room was exactly as she’d left it. Exactly. Nothing had been moved, from the items on her dresser to the blanket on her bed hanging slightly askew. Hermes had preserved it like a shrine.

The door closed behind her, and she turned. Odysseus leaned against it. He looked good. Healthy. Freshly showered, and his T-shirt clung to his chest from the damp. Athena cleared her throat.

“It’s good to be back,” she said.

“It is.” He crossed the room to her, hands fluttering in his back pockets, eyes everywhere but on her. “Only we’re not back.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“We’re not back,” he said. “Not back to playing at goddess and hero.”

He looked up at her from under his brow. They were alone, and all at once that seemed to take on another meaning, as if the French doors had bricked over and all the furniture but the bed had tramped out on wooden legs.

“I know,” she said.

She thought it would be all the encouragement he needed. But instead he stood there, as awkward as she felt. She rolled her eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I just thought … that you would handle this part.”

“This part?”

“You have this reputation, after all. Calypso, Circe, even Penelope. Odysseus, the man of many ways. Slayer of Cyclops. Seducer of women.”

Odysseus laughed.

“I’ve never had to seduce a woman in my life. They see me and fall into my lap.”

Athena rolled her eyes again, but she laughed, too.

“You’re the difficult one,” he said.

She crossed her arms and nodded. She was difficult. And she’d been the one to blur the lines between them in the first place, kissing him in the sleeper of that truck, something that it felt like had happened forever ago and as close as yesterday. If she hadn’t done that, he might never have pressed the issue. But it had felt so natural there, waking beside him in the afternoon light. As right and as easy as resting her head on his shoulder on the banks of the Styx. She stepped closer, barely a shuffle of feet. If she could just get close enough, maybe it would feel that natural again.

He stood still, as though he was worried any movement he made would scare her off. But his breath came faster, and she could hear his good, strong heartbeat.

She lifted her arm and slipped it around his neck. It was harder than anything. Heavier than any sword or shield she’d ever lifted. And she trembled. What guts this took. What a fool she’d been, to think Aphrodite was ever weak.

Odysseus raised his hands to her hips, and then to her sides, careful to avoid the fresh feather wound over her ribs. They stood that way for long moments, statues except for the blood rushing under their skin. Athena sensed his wanting in the eager grip of his fingers, and his rising and falling chest. But still they stood, and went no further.

“I love you,” she blurted, and his eyes opened wider. “I just wanted to tell you, in case. In case you didn’t know.”

“I knew,” he said. “I don’t remember much from the fall. Just the wind in my ears and you, wrapped around me. Your heart beating faster as mine slowed down.” He pushed her hair away from her cheek.

“I love you, too, Athena,” he said. “Always have.”