Bad Influence (Seven Deadly Sins #2) ✅ Completed

Chapter Fourteen: Hermes' Trunk of Truly Terrible Treasure

Hermes’ Trunk of Truly Terrible Treasure

“Remember what I said, Eliza. You have to think about the sword and what you need it for, not for revenge or retribution but for saving that soul. You must remain pure of mind, heart and purpose as you call forth the sword of Perseus,” Hermes explained for the hundredth time.

We were standing around the crushed table, Hermes’ golden treasure chest still right on top where it’d landed. The chest was pretty fancy – large enough for me to lie down in, every square inch intricately carved, and made of one hundred percent pure Olympian gold.

I glanced at the imposing box once more. It was pretty hard not to look at it, gleaming under the fluorescent lighting of the shop. There were carved Grecian scenes on each side of the rectangular box as well as the lid. Upon closer inspection I could make out different images of famous tales I’d poured over when I was younger; there was Bellerophon atop Pegasus spearing the Chimera, Hercules slaying the Nimean lion, Achilles killing Hector during the Trojan War, even Perseus holding the head of Medusa and freezing the Kraken. I half expected to see golden reliefs of the actual gods, but there were none. There were only depictions of heroes, demigods, and mortals - all men in the midst of their most heroic deeds.

It would’ve been extremely cool if I wasn’t the one who’d drawn the short straw and had to touch the freaking thing.   

“I just don’t understand why I have to be the one to reach into the box of scary Greek artifacts that can probably kill me? Why can’t you or Dante just get it?” I asked, also for the hundredth time. I was almost entirely sure getting the sword out of a chest that belonged to one of the Olympians, housing some of the greatest weapons ever forged was just a little above my pay grade.  

Hermes sighed, tired of having to explain it to me over and over again. “You know why, Eliza. We’re not pure of heart,”

“Or mind,” Dante added.

“Or purpose,” Hermes finished. “It’s gotta be you, kid. You’re the only one among us that can play the hero.”

“I am not a hero,” I grumbled. OK, so maybe I wasn’t the anti-hero in the story of my crazy life, but I certainly couldn’t be considered the hero. I was just some scared girl, trying to make things right while not opening up any doors to Hell, getting killed by a demon, or sending the boy I liked to a horrific afterlife.

I was pretty sure a hero that did not make.

Hermes shrugged, his broad shoulders moving up and down with the motion. He was still wearing normal clothes, but anyone with half a brain would take one look at him and know there was absolutely nothing normal about him. Tall, well over six feet, with the face of a movie star and an attitude to match.

“Well, I’m a god,” he said now, nodding over to Chase who was standing next to me, “Chase is a sidekick…no offense.”

Chase gave him a wiry smile as he shrugged it off, “None taken.”

I looked at Dante but the messenger god just laughed.  “No way, doll. Dante is…” he trailed off as Dante threw him a murderous look. Whatever Hermes had been about to say, he amended quickly, clearing his throat as he continued, “Well, Dante doesn’t count for obvious reasons. Listen, if it makes you feel better, I’ll try to keep the trunk from sucking you in, ok?”

“Sucking me in?” I repeated, my heart rate picking up nicely.  

Dante shouldered past Hermes obviously losing patience with him. “Don’t listen to him, Eliza. Hermes thinks its fun to watch innocent people get sucked into his trunk but that’s not going to happen to you, ok?”