Pride Before the Fall: The Adventures of Hermes, #2

By Rebekah Lewis

Zeus doesn't ask for much. Just for Hermes to deliver his messages, run his errands, obey his every command and, oh yeah, not to interfere with the Satyroi as they quest to rescue a close friend and retrieve a mystical instrument called the syrinx from Dionysus. So Hermes shouldn't be surprised when Artemis calls in a favor and it involves something Zeus has expressly forbidden him from doing.

Multiple times.

Within the past forty-eight hours alone.

Now that Hybris has finally gained Pan's trust, there's only one obstacle in the way of starting over again with her family: Hermes can't forgive her for walking out of them so long ago. Devising a plan to win his admiration back, Hybris sets out on a dangerous mission that could go wrong at any moment. A risk she's more than willing to take if Hermes may stop avoiding her as a result.

When their paths cross unexpectedly, can they ignore their feelings for one another long enough to accomplish their tasks? Or will the danger surrounding them create a domino effect of damage that would affect not only each other, but the Satyroi as well?

Pride Before the Fall is part 2 of 3 in The Adventures of Hermes. If reading as part of The Cursed Satyroi series, this book should be read after The Satyr Prince, as book 4.5.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebekah Lewis
• Release date: Jul 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386165934

Rebekah Lewis

Rebekah Lewis has always been captivated by fictional worlds. An avid reader and lover of cinema, it was only a matter of time before she started writing her own stories and immersing herself in her imagination. Rebekah’s most popular series, The Cursed Satyroi, is paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. She also writes Fantasy and Time Travel. When satyrs, white rabbits, and stubborn heroes aren’t keeping her busy, she may be found putting her creativity to use as an award-winning cover artist. Rebekah holds a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature and lives in Savannah, GA with her cat, Bagheera.

Book preview

Dedication

To Zeus, for never keeping it in his pants. Thank you for spawning half the pantheon and allowing me to write stories about it.

––––––––

P.S. Please don't smite me. Hermes made me say it because I lost a bet.

Chapter One

The elaborate golden gates to Zeus' completely modest—except it wasn't—marble temple stood wide open. At least today he'd forgone the absurd fog machines he didn't think anyone knew he had hidden inside. Embarrassing. Echoes of raised voices boomed and fell into buzzes of agitation, and Hermes had to go in and subject himself to the swarm of bees preparing to the flee the hive in a panic.

Those hypothetical bees, of course, were the Olympians who'd been lazy far too long since humans stopped worshiping them as gods. Now that something had gone wrong, apocalyptically so, they were undoubtedly tripping over themselves and trying to recall what to do in such a circumstance. Upon receiving word, Hermes had come to Olympus as fast as he could—which for him was mere seconds. He didn't want to go in there. It would go the same as it always did. Hermes would volunteer to use his powers and be shot down because blah, blah, blah. Who cared? Why have powers that could help if he couldn't use them?

No, Hermes, don't save that nymph. Don't assist the satyrs even though their enemy is pretty much out to conquer Olympus—we think. It's cool though because it'll never work. Zeus smart; Zeus never outsmarted. Oh, shit, the sun's gone! No, don't use your powers to find someone to fix it. We got this. We think...

Apparently, the Titan, Helios, punished for merely existing and having a stronger bloodline, had escaped his perpetual slavery, whereupon the sun chariot had fallen off course, leading the Earth away from proper rotation and causing a void to form between the planet and the sun. A void which could very much turn into a black hole, or what Hermes liked to call it, The Titans Send Their Regards, which was definitely due to too much premium television in his down time. He'd spouted off some medieval mumbo jumbo to a satyr named Adonis a few months back too and couldn't seem to stop doing it.

Note to self: cancel cable subscription.

Basically, the power keeping the world turning needed to be restored, corrected, and moved into proper orbit. Magic and science went hand in hand. Science, of course, could be manipulated and theorized to explain that which humans refused to accept as supernatural. When Hermes left for Olympus, darkness was descending upon the Western Hemisphere of the Earth. The humans were likely in a right panic. Unfortunately for them, the end was truly nigh.

Ah, who am I kidding? I'm never giving up cable. This whole fiasco better not disrupt my DVR recordings.

Hermes zipped up to the entryway, hovering in the air just outside and peeking around the corner to take in the scene. Zeus sat rigid upon a colossal throne made of marble and gold—the decorating materials of choice because only the finest in this realm!—and everyone had gathered around the king. Olympians shouted at him and at each other without cease. Hera stood by her husband's side, a severe scowl upon her flawless, high-cheekboned face. She wore her long, jet-black hair pinned high on her head with various peacock feathers sticking out of it. One of her prized birds rested in her arms, taking in the scene, tilting its head left and right as though contemplating the words of the gods around it. Or maybe it wanted to crap on one of them. Anyone's guess, really.

Deciding not to delay the inevitable any more than necessary, Hermes shot into the room, dropping to his bare feet in front of Zeus. He knew he looked awful, having spent days helping Pan and the other satyrs prepare to move on Dionysus and the Boeotians, which he was technically not allowed to assist with. He was also pretty sure his infant grandson, Leonidas, had spit up on the back of his shoulder when he'd collected Pan from Greece to take him to Ohio to meet with Vander and the others, and he'd forgotten about it before meeting up with them again in New Jersey.

He vaguely remembered Hybris cleaning it off him before he'd left. The sensation of her hands on him made his body react in ways he didn't want to admit, so he'd grabbed Pan and split from Greece, putting the Atlantic Ocean between he and his ex within seconds. Luckily, gods could clean themselves with a thought because now he'd been in the same clothes for at least two days and was presenting himself in front of the entirety of Olympus all because Hy had touched him for like...twenty-six seconds. He'd counted. Therapists would pay him to shrink his brain.

The chatter around him halted momentarily. His appearance was acknowledged—and criticized, albeit silently—and then resumed as though he hadn't interrupted. Nothing new there.

What are you wearing, Hermes? Aphrodite strolled forward, hips swaying. Her waist-length blonde hair hung in waves about her shoulders. She wore crisp, pearly Olympian robes, cut in the old style, fastened with a glittering fibula on each shoulder—the diamonds set in the little broaches were a modern twist. A shimmering gold cord crisscrossed across her waist and torso. Although, the gladiator sandals with the six-inch stiletto heels made him roll his eyes.

Hermes glanced down at himself, again wishing he'd thought to change or at least conjure up new clothes before arriving. Too late to bother now. His black jeans were ripped at the ankles for his wings to gain better motion, and his orange T-shirt said God of Awesome in Old English lettering. Um...appropriate attire for the mortal realm?

That color is positively atrocious. Aphrodite plucked at his shirt and scowled. She and Hybris had that in common, hatred for the color orange.

He cringed. The one female he didn't have time to think about would be Hybris, yet he kept doing it. Pan's mother and the love of his life—who'd left him and their son after giving birth, never to return until days before his grandson was brought into this world. Now she was like a growth that kept popping back up as soon as he cut it off. More pleasant to the eyes though, damn her.

That wasn't exactly fair. She'd wanted to reconcile, using her powers as an excuse for her actions. Hybris was the goddess of hubris, and because her power was rooted in pride, arrogance, violence and all those things that made Zeus put out a good lightning-bolt-shaped smiting, she was incapable of going back on her word or admitting she was wrong. Her power had her brain wired to believe her too perfect, too above such things, that it caused her physical pain to retract something she'd said or if she tried to make verbal amends. After briefly giving in to the lust that overtook him in her presence, they'd had a brief tryst and he'd kicked her out of his life.

She'd actually taken his advice, for once, and went to Pan to earn his forgiveness. She was living with Pan, Katerina and their son, Leonidas, while they resided in Greece with former satyr, Ariston, and his wife, Lily. He couldn't see his family without her there. It was upsetting, to say the least. After staying gone for multiple lifetimes, now she wouldn't go away.

Someone snapped their fingers in front of his face. Pay attention when I am talking to you. Aphrodite glared. You know I don't like being ignored. It's so...unnatural.

Like those hair extensions?

She gasped and slammed her hands down on her hips. "So what if I like to play with mortal beauty accessories. I'm the goddess of love