Throwing my head back, I glared at the ceiling and yelled, letting out every ounce of rage building within my essence. The sound vibrated off the walls. It felt as if thunder had shaken the brownstone, but I was so off-kilter it was hard to tell if that were real or imagined.
I was alone. And that was something I had feared since Poseidon and I parted ways. I debated contacting him. I missed him so very much right now. I had my phone out, and his number dialed when I stopped and put it down.
I nodded slowly and walked to the Jeep. As I climbed in, I locked eyes with his. They were eyes I’d recently started, and ended, so many days gazing into. “You have twenty minutes, thirty if there’s traffic, to convince me the apple fell far from the tree, or I’m burning down the whole damn orchard.”
I would switch from bright and bubbly, to calm and docile, to violent and stormy. We called it Maelstrom, and the mortals took it as the name of a sea storm. Most of the gods I’d met didn’t know how that felt, to be containing such a force at all times. Feeling her build until she broke and took everything with her.
You’ve been through a lot, and you have big plans. Ground yourself, Circe. Do not allow recent events to obscure your mind, he advised.
Everyone is finding love and pairing off. I wanted that, too. I just don’t know if I will ever have it. I don’t have the best track record for love.
Another call, not yours. When I heard it, it came with all this nourishment for me. Chaos, tragedy, strife. Taking a bite of each one was like taking a step, like following a trail of breadcrumbs.
Home is not as I remember, but then again, what is these days? Greece, as strange and beautiful as before, in entirely new ways, of course, had changed in the way we all had. So much and not at all.
The air smelled of fire, burnt things, and something else. An earthy sandalwood aroma drifted
in the air. Gods damn, was that the Captain? Surely he could not smell as delicious as he looked.
I knew him. He raised me. I knew where to hit him, what hurt the most, and what it would take to wound him.
Would my mother wait impatiently on the doorstep, hoping to make amends for past wrongs? Would my father be there? My siblings?
