“What do you mean she’s in the hospital?” Dionysus demanded.
Naia and Lilaia, two of his maenads, had just returned with news, and it wasn’t at all what Dionysus had expected. Phaedra had been admitted to Asclepius Community Hospital. Given her shitty husband, he feared Theseus was responsible.
“She’s in labor,” said Naia.
“Labor,” Dionysus repeated.
“She’s having a baby,” said Lilaia. “In case you don’t know what that means.”
“I know what it means,” Dionysus glared. “But how did this happen?”
“Given how often you eye fuck Ariadne, I am surprised you don’t know where babies come from, Dionysus.”
“I really don’t know why I put up with you,” Dionysus said.
Lilaia grinned.
“Ariadne never said her sister was pregnant,” Dionysus said.
Naia shrugged. “She hasn’t seen Phaedra in months. It is possible she doesn’t know.”
“What am I supposed to do with the fucking baby?”
“What do you mean what are you supposed to do with the fucking baby?” asked Lilaia. “You bring it with you.”
“That’s kidnapping.”
“It’s not kidnapping if there is consent.”
“The baby can’t consent!”
There was a beat of silence, and then Naia said, “I really don’t understand how you lived this long.”
“That makes two of us,” Dionysus snapped.
“Three,” Lilaia added.
Dionysus glared at them both.
It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t exactly have the best parental figure. Zeus was absent completely. And Silenus taught him how to drink and encouraged him to fuck. If he had any claim to a childhood, that was it.
“Wherever Phaedra goes, the baby will go,” said Naia.
Gods fucking dammit. This was going to be a nightmare.
He had known they would face retaliation if they managed to rescue Phaedra—but a baby too? He would be lucky to escape with his life and the lives of those he cared about, his maenads.
“Why the fuck did I agree to this?” Dionysus muttered.
“Because,” said Lilaia, “this woman is being abused, and you know that will not change once this child is born.”
“This is one life threatening hundreds,” Dionysus said.
“Two lives,” said Naia. “And it’s worth it if we say it is.”
Dionysus would not argue with that.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“You are going to shape-shift into this man,” said Naia, turning her tablet around. She showed Dionysus a picture of a pale mortal with graying hair. “His name is Dr. Phanes. He is the only one allowed in Phaedra’s room along with two other nurses. Lilaia will disguise herself as one. The other will be a hospital employee,” Naia continued and then met Dionysus’s gaze. “We figured at least one person should know what they’re doing.”
“I don’t see your name on this plan,” Dionysus said.
“I will make sure Dr. Phanes and his nurse do not make it to their posts,” she said. “And when I’m done with that, I’m coming for this bumbling idiot.” Naia showed another picture of a beefy man with small eyes and a permanent scowl. “His name is Tannis. Theseus has him posted at Phaedra’s hospital door.”
Dionysus shook his head. What a fucking asshole. He treated Phaedra like a prisoner.
“I’ll make sure he’s gone by the time we’re ready to leave,” Naia said. “We move as soon as Ariadne and Persephone leave for Knossos.”
Dionysus stiffened, and suddenly, he felt like he couldn’t take deep enough breaths. He had known this was coming, but he still didn’t like it. Ariadne was essentially using herself as bait to lure Theseus away, and Theseus would go because he wanted her.
That thought turned his stomach.
He’d been surprised by her sudden change of heart. She had gone from refusing to help Hades to jumping at the chance to lead Persephone through the labyrinth, but he understood now. Her participation ensured Theseus was distracted enough to extract Phaedra safely.
He didn’t like it, but he would do it for her.
His only worry was what he’d do if she didn’t make it out of the labyrinth.
Dionysus looked at Naia and Lilaia. “Best not tell Ariadne,” he said. “She doesn’t need distractions in the labyrinth.”
“Tell me what?”
Dionysus whirled as Ariadne entered the room. She was dressed from head to toe in black with her hair pulled back, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She was followed by Persephone, who was carrying a cat.
“Nothing,” Dionysus said quickly, then his eyes fell to the fluffy feline. “Why do you have a cat?”
“Hecate says to bring her to the labyrinth,” said Persephone. She exchanged a look with Ariadne. “And when Hecate tells you to do something, you do not argue.”
That was fair. Hecate was the Goddess of Witchcraft. Whatever she sent along with Persephone was bound to help, which meant it was also of benefit to Ariadne. Still…why a cat?
Dionysus’s gaze returned to Ariadne, who dropped her heavy bag to the ground. She bent to unzip it and dug out a set of clothes before handing them to Persephone.
“Change,” she said, taking the cat. “Down the hall to your left.”
Persephone obeyed without hesitation, a hard edge to her pale face.
“What’s in the bag?” Dionysus asked. “Other than clothes.”
He didn’t really care, but he wanted to keep her from pressing him about what he intended to keep from her. It was bad enough she was going to go into the labyrinth distracted by Phaedra, likely worrying over whether he was capable of rescuing her. She didn’t need to worry about a baby too.
“Supplies,” she said, scratching behind the cat’s ear.
He didn’t like that she was being so short with him, though it wasn’t unusual. It seemed to happen every time they came close to fucking again. It was like, in the aftermath, she realized she had made a mistake.
He tamped down the frustration that shot through him, holding her gaze before letting his eyes drift down her body.
“Are you armed?” he asked.
“What do you think?” she countered.
“I can’t imagine where you put it,” he said.
The last time he’d argued with her about this, she’d showed him her ass in an elevator, and it had left him mostly speechless. He had a feeling she was going to do that again.
She raised a brow. “Can’t you?”
Then she pulled the front of her jacket back to reveal a holster.
Damn, that wasn’t nearly as exciting.
There was silence for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked.
“As ready as I’m going to be,” she said. “Are you?”
No, he wanted to say. What if you don’t come back?
But he knew that wasn’t what she meant.
“Our part is easy,” he said.
Ariadne did not look so certain, and he wondered if her doubt came from mistrust in him. Though he didn’t have the best track record with her. He had promised to help her sister before if she helped him find Medusa first. He’d believed they would need the gorgon to fight Theseus.
Persephone returned dressed similarly to Ariadne, in head-to-toe black, including a leather jacket.
“Is the jacket necessary?” Persephone asked, her cheeks flushed.
“If the labyrinth is as I remember, then yes,” said Ariadne. She returned the cat to Persephone and reached for her duffel bag, swinging it over her shoulder. “Ready?”
“That’s it?” Dionysus asked. “What is your plan?”
“The plan is to make it out of the labyrinth with Hades,” said Ariadne.
“That’s the goal, not the plan, Ari.”
She glared at him. “I know what a plan is, Dionysus. I have this under control.” Her eyes shifted to Naia and Lilaia. “As soon as we arrive, Theseus will know. He will come to Knossos immediately. Then you can make your move.”
The women nodded.
Dionysus hated that she was talking to them and not him—as if he wasn’t part of this plan.
“Let’s go,” Ariadne said. “The sooner we get there, the sooner this is over.”
Dionysus’s hands fisted, fighting the urge to touch her, even to speak, but he lost that battle.
“Ari,” he called as she turned toward Persephone. She paused and held his gaze. “Make sure you get out so you can see your sister again.”
So I can see you again, he thought.
She nodded once, and then Persephone’s sweet-scented magic filled the air. He didn’t take his eyes off Ariadne, staring at the spot where she had stood even after they vanished.
“It’s time,” said Lilaia, her finger resting on her earpiece as she listened to Naia give updates. They were waiting in the shadow of the adjoining parking garage, away from prying eyes and cameras. “She’s in room 323.”
She met Dionysus’s gaze, and he nodded, quickly shifting into an identical image of the doctor Naia had shown him. His ability to change forms was more than glamour, which only gave the appearance of a transformation. He changed on a physical level, and it always felt wrong, like he was wearing another skin over his own.
“That is so unsettling,” Naia said, shuddering.
“Ready?” Dionysus asked.
Lilaia secured a surgical mask over her face. “Let’s get this mama somewhere safe.”
He nodded, and together they left the shelter of the parking garage, crossing beneath a covered walkway and into the hospital, which was like barreling into a solid wall of sound. There was noise everywhere, pushing in from all sides.
It was all so loud. Dionysus felt like he could feel every layer of sound—from the high-pitched ring of the telephone to the shuffling of paper. It scraped against his skin, putting him more and more on edge as he made his way down the sterile hallway with Lilaia in tow.
The intercom blared, a female voice making Dionysus’s ears ring.
“Dr. Phanes to room 323. Dr. Phanes to room 323.”
“That’s Phaedra’s room,” said Lilaia.
“I know,” said Dionysus tightly.
They were almost to the elevators when someone slammed a hand down on his shoulder.
“Dr. Phanes!”
Dionysus whirled to face a nurse.
He had been so intent on his task, he nearly forgot who he was supposed to be impersonating.
“Y-yes?” he asked.
“Our patient in 124 just lost her mucus plug. Fetal heart rate is stable at 143, and contractions are still irregular,” the nurse said. “Should we increase the Pitocin?”
What the fuck was a mucus plug, and why did the sound of it make him want to vomit?
Dionysus hesitated. “Uh…”
Lilaia kicked him from behind, and he glanced at her to see her nod.
“Yes,” Dionysus said, turning back to the nurse. “Yes, increase the…”
He forgot what the nurse had said. Pee-toe-sin?
“Pitocin?” the nurse supplied.
“Yes, yes. The Pitocin.”
“Got it.”
The nurse hurried away down the hall, and Dionysus turned to face the elevators as Lilaia stabbed the top button.
“Are you sure you can do this?” she asked.
“Of course I can do this,” said Dionysus as the elevator doors slid open. “How hard could it be?”
“Okay,” she said in a rather singsong voice that made him think she didn’t believe him at all. He glared at her back as they stepped inside the lift. They were pushed into a corner as several more people piled inside.
“You think I am not capable,” Dionysus said.
“I did not say—”
“You said it with your face.”
Lilaia sighed and then she looked up at Dionysus. “I don’t think you’re prepared. There is a difference.”
“I think I can pull off an abduction,” he snapped. “I have done it a million times.”
Several heads in the elevator turned toward him in that moment, and Lilaia managed an awkward laugh, giving him what looked like a playful shove but was actually a hard nudge in his ribs with her bony elbow.
“I know you can pull off an induction,” she said loudly, and then she lowered her voice and spoke through gritted teeth. “It’s what comes before that worries me.”
He started to speak, but the elevator stopped on the third floor and emptied. Dionysus followed Lilaia. To their left was a waiting area, and to their right was a locked door that led into the labor and delivery suite.
Lilaia used her badge to enter. They did not need to look at room numbers to know which room belonged to Phaedra. They could tell because only one had a guard.
He was facing them as they approached, thick arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re late,” the man said. “Lord Theseus isn’t gonna be happy.”
“Lord Theseus can suck it,” said Dionysus. “His wife isn’t the only patient I have in this hospital.”
Dionysus was proud of that retort.
The man—Tannis, Dionysus recalled—slammed his palm against Dionysus’s chest, halting him in his tracks. The god met the man’s beady-eyed gaze.
“Watch your mouth, Doctor.”
Dionysus pushed his hand away. “How will your boss feel when he learns you delayed me further?”
Tannis scowled at him but took a step back.
Dionysus gave him a hard look as he entered the room, only once he was inside, he very much wished he’d stayed outside.
Phaedra lay on a bed in the middle of the room. A nurse stood between her legs, pushing them back, her knees almost to her ears. Lilaia pushed past him and hurried to Phaedra’s side, helping the other nurse hold her leg, as if she had done this a million times before.
What the fuck was happening?
He looked at Lilaia, his eyes wide. Is this what she meant by “what comes before”? An actual live birth?
“Dr. Phanes,” said the nurse—the one who was supposed to know what she was doing. “The baby’s crowning.”
“C-crowning?” Dionysus repeated.
“Your gown and gloves are on the table,” said the nurse.
Dionysus hesitated, and Phaedra moaned, her head rolled back, her face glistening with sweat. She looked a lot like Ariadne, and the resemblance made him uneasy for several reasons, but most of all because Lilaia and this nurse were asking him to deliver her baby.
Why did that seem like an invasion of privacy?
“Doctor! There is no time.” The nurse’s sharp tone brought him back to reality.
“Put the gloves on,” Lilaia snapped.
He glared at his maenad. He was never going to forgive her or Naia when this was over. Why couldn’t he have been the nurse? He could hold a leg.
Gods fucking dammit.
He walked over to the table and put the gloves on. They were long and powder blue. Then he turned to face Phaedra and…oh my fucking gods.
Suddenly, he understood crowning.
This looked like torture. It had to be something Hades had dreamed up in his demented head, because there was no way a head was coming out of that.
Phaedra sobbed, and Dionysus met her dark-eyed gaze, so like Ariadne’s.
“I can’t do this,” she said, gasping for breath. “I can’t.”
Her body shook.
“You can,” said Lilaia, holding her hand tighter.
“I can’t,” Phaedra said.
“You’re doing great,” said the nurse. “Just a little while longer.”
“Tell her it’s going to be okay, Doctor,” Lilaia said, a threatening edge to her voice.
“It isn’t,” said Phaedra. “You don’t understand. My husband…”
Suddenly she was crying harder and breathing faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
For a moment, Dionysus felt panicked, but then he remembered one thing he’d learned about women in labor—and that was how they were supposed to breathe.
“Hee-hee-hooooo,” he started. “Hee-hee-hooooo.”
He kept going even when he noticed Lilaia glaring at him and the other nurse staring at him in horror, but then Phaedra joined in, following his lead.
Before long, they were all breathing in tandem, and when Phaedra was calm again, Dionysus looked down between her legs, and his breaths dissolved into a horrified scream.
“Oh my gods,” he yelled.
“What? What?” Phaedra cried.
“Nothing,” Lilaia said quickly. “The baby’s almost out. Push!”
Phaedra bore down, and then the head was suddenly out, and Dionysus’s hands were in the air.
“Guide the head!” the nurse snapped.
“How the fuck do I guide the head?” he demanded. The baby was face down. What if he hurt it by grabbing it?
“Are you insane?” the nurse snapped. “Just guide the head out!”
“If you say guide the head one more time,” Dionysus hissed.
“Hold the head!” she yelled.
Dionysus held the head.
“Suction, Doctor! Suction!”
“Suction what?” he demanded, matching her frantic tone.
The nurse pushed toward him with some type of blue bulbous thing.
“Turn his head,” she barked. “Gently!”
Dionysus did as she instructed, and the nurse suctioned the baby’s nose and mouth.
“Push!” the nurse said.
Phaedra screamed, and suddenly the baby had shoulders, and then Dionysus was holding a whole fucking baby—a boy—in his arms.
He had him for seconds before Lilaia took him and placed him on Phaedra’s chest.
Dionysus just stood there, both shocked and awed at what had just happened, but he was quickly brought back to reality when he noticed blood and fluid dripping to the floor at his feet.
He took a step back, feeling light-headed.
“Doctor, we need an Apgar,” said the nurse as she and Lilaia worked to dry off the baby, rubbing its back and feet.
“He’s not crying,” said Phaedra. There was a note of alarm in her voice. “Why isn’t he crying?”
“He’s all right,” said the nurse. “Sometimes babies just need a little while. They’re in shock.”
As if on cue, a keen wailing filled the room.
“There we go,” said Lilaia.
Phaedra smiled.
“Apgar, Doctor,” the nurse said again, her irritation plain.
What the fuck is an Apgar? He looked at Lilaia, who jerked her head toward the baby and mouthed something.
“What?” he mouthed back.
She leaned toward him, the words slipping between clenched teeth. “Use your stethoscope.”
“And put it where?” he muttered.
“Over its heart and lungs.”
He could tell by her tone she was over him, but this was not his fault. He was not a doctor, and neither she nor Naia had told him he would be delivering a fucking baby—if that was what you wanted to call that thing in Phaedra’s arms, because right now, it did not even resemble a human. It was definitely blue and covered in something…gross. That was the only way to describe it.
Hesitantly, he put the stethoscope on and placed it on the baby while the nurse wheeled over a table with something that looked like a scale.
“What is the Apgar?” she asked again as she suctioned the baby once more.
Dionysus exchanged a look with Lilaia as she mouthed a number.
“Uh…” Fuck, he couldn’t read lips. “Ninety?”
Lilaia glared and then laughed. “You mean nine. Of course you mean nine.”
“Yes, nine,” he said and then matched her awkward laugh. “Just making sure you’re paying attention.”
Dionysus took a step back as Lilaia continued cleaning the baby while the nurse listened to his heart and lungs. She kept casting angry glances his way. Dionysus couldn’t blame her. She was certain he was acting out of character as Dr. Phanes.
His gaze flitted across Phaedra’s face. She looked so happy, blissful even, like all her previous struggles and heartache did not matter. He wondered if she even cared that her husband was not here now that everything was over.
Well, he’d thought it was over.
Until something horrifying slipped out from between Phaedra’s legs.
“What the fuck is that?” Dionysus demanded.
“A placenta, Doctor,” the nurse said, her tone clipped.
“A placenta. Of course,” he said. He took a breath. He started to wipe a hand across his forehead but paused when he realized he was still gloved and covered in blood.
“Aren’t you going to clamp it?” the nurse asked.
“No, you can clamp it,” Dionysus said and looked at Lilaia. “Are you almost done?”
“We have to weigh the baby, Di—Doctor,” she said. “And he needs another Apgar. Then we’re done.”
He said nothing as they finished, his mind wandering to Ariadne.
Gods, he hoped she was safe.
When Phaedra and the baby were cleaned, dressed, and warm, Dionysus met her gaze.
She smiled at him, almost dreamily.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“I do not deserve your thanks,” he said, and then Phaedra’s face changed, her bliss replaced by confusion as he asked, “Are you ready to see your sister?”
