“Cressida.”
The name had me cocking a brow at my tousled wife. She was still on the grass after falling ass over tit mere moments before. Her arms and legs were sprawled here and there, but not in an ungainly manner. If anything, she looked like she’d planted herself here like this on purpose.
That purpose?
To tempt me.
Perhaps. Well, it felt that way even as I doubted it.
Not even Ella was odd enough to entice a man into her panties by tripping. Hell, that had been clumsiness at its most wondrous.
Whether or not it had been her intention, good God, she looked hot.
With the fringe of her jean shorts touching her upper thighs, I had the intense craving to run my hand along that bit of nothing fabric until I reached the haven between her legs.
The way she said the female’s name, however, had my thoughts of plowing her amid the sunshine and grass, with the nearby flowers and the scent of the sea in the air, drawing to a halt.
“Who is Cressida, agapití?”
That Apollo asked the question relieved me. With my focus on her body, I hadn’t exactly been paying attention, had I?
“She’s someone who was important to me before.” She curved up and reached for his hand. The way she held, his hit me as strange—not because it was wrong or because I was jealous, but because she was using him as an anchor.
Like he could ground her to reality.
“That’s good that your memories are coming back to you,” Pol soothed. “Do you remember anything about her?”
“She had long brown hair and…” She bit her lip as she closed her eyes. “She used to sing. A lot. Maybe as a job.”
“Do you remember her surname?”
Her brow furrowed as though she were deep in thought. “Jones? Something like that.”
Interest flickered in me at that. “Jonas? Could it be Jonas?”
“Why?” She frowned. “Do you know that name?”
I reached for my cell phone and made sure I had service—sometimes being down by the sea had the signal dropping, especially if the sun was reacting to Apollo being under its rays. If a star could preen, the sun did when Apollo wasn’t tucked away inside somewhere.
Opening YouTube, I found the song I’d heard on the radio only that morning—it had gone viral these past few weeks.
I knew why too.
Nash was her co-singer and he was like us. A guardian. He belonged to Hades though. But Orpheus’ command over his voice was such that he could control a crowd with it. Considering what I knew of her past, it fit that this was the Cressida Ella was speaking of.
Pressing play, she tilted her head to the side as she listened to it, then shook it. “No. I don’t know it.”
“How about an older one? Before here, she was in the hospital for four months,” Pol suggested, and I realized he hadn’t connected the dots because Nash’s voice would have no control over him and therefore, he wouldn’t recognize the guardian.
I grimaced. “I don’t exactly listen to pop, Pol. I just know this one because it’s on all the stations.” I peered through a playlist, found a song I recognized, and hit play. The second the chords to ‘Angel’s Fall’ started, Ella squeaked and sat up straight.
“Oh my God, that’s her! I recognize the song, but her voice too.”
“You do?” Apollo reached over to grab my phone and though I didn’t appreciate him holding onto something that was one of my private possessions, I passed it to him. “I know her. Yes. She came to my office with Hades and his guardians. He said she was his tín eaftoú gynaíka.” He shot me a look that silently revealed a conversation Ella wasn’t ready to overhear.
“The first as Zeus said?” I asked, and my heart began beating heavily in my chest. The dull throbs reminded me of its pace when I had to calm it before making a shot at the enemy.
Apollo nodded. “He didn’t say much, just told me not to disrespect her. I didn’t think anything of until… now.” Until his call with Zeus.
Ella grabbed the phone. “I know her. I do. I know her.”
Her excitement was infectious. “Maybe you should contact Hades?”
“He won’t answer.”
“No, but he would for me,” Ella rasped. “If Cressida—” She shook her head. “No, that isn’t right. Cressy. That’s what I called her. Cressy. If she’s connected to me, then surely he’ll answer for her sake.”
Apollo grimaced. “Perhaps. Who is she to you? A sister?”
“I don’t know,” she said on a whisper, but the way she looked at the phone? It was as close to reverent as anything I’d ever seen. Beyond reverent even.
Whoever Cressida Jonas was to our woman, she was important enough to make her look like that. For the first time since I’d set eyes on her, Ella seemed a little less lost than before.
“Make the call from my cell,” I directed. “Call Nash or Christian directly, not Hades. They’re easier to deal with.”
She squinted at me. “Nash? Christian?”
“Their incarnations. Nash is Orpheus and Christian is—”
Her eyes widened. “Icarus. She was important to me,” Ella assured us. “And I was to her. I don’t know how I know that. I just do.” She reached up, and as was becoming a common sight where she was concerned, began to rub her temples. “When we were in the bath the other day, I saw someone laying on the bed like Lux was. It was such a clear image that I couldn’t shake it.”
Apollo’s mouth was set in a stern line, and I couldn’t blame him. I knew we’d brought Ella out here for a reason, and it hadn’t been so that he could heal her after she fell on the ground after the briefest run in the history of runs.
He’d wanted to give her the wreath. It was too soon in my opinion, but that was the thing with Gods. They always knew best.
“Do it,” he told me, watching as she handed the phone back to me. “Call Icarus. He always was the softer-hearted of the three.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You mistake soft-hearted with his genius. He was shrewd enough to make Cavendish Air one of the biggest airlines in the world.”
Apollo shrugged, but he neither argued nor agreed with me.
Heading into my contacts, which was loaded with names of guardians the world over, I found Icarus and connected the call.
“Achilles?” Icarus’ surprise was evident.
“Hey, Rus. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” he said with more hesitance. “Everything good on your end?”
“Maybe. Apollo’s at the retreat. You know, the one we have in the Hamptons?”
“Yeah. I’ve heard of it.”
“He told me you came to visit him in the city. Hades mentioned something about a tín eaftoú gynaíka.” Before he could get defensive, which is exactly what I’d have done if another guardian had contacted me about Ella, I quickly explained, “Zeus has informed us we have one, too. She’s… well, our situation is a tad unusual.”
“Explain,” Rus said curtly, apparently not about to open up at my comments.
I grimaced. Though I hated giving information away, in this instance that was the only way to get anywhere here. Icarus was in the position of strength, not me.
“Well, she’s…” Before I could explain, Ella snatched the phone from my grip.
“Icarus, it’s me. Ella.”
Apollo murmured, “Put it on speaker.”
She frowned but complied, setting the call so that we could all hear it.
“Ella? You’re kidding me!” Excitement had his voice surging in pitch.
“No. I’m not. Do you know me?”
“Of course, I do. You’re Cressy’s best friend. She’s missed you so damn much. Just wait until I tell her. She’ll be so happy.”
Ella gnawed on her bottom lip for a second, before her shoulders sagged with, what I assumed, was relief. Her eyes were crystalline with tears, and though I wanted to reach out and touch her, to hold her, I didn’t. Couldn’t. But I was glad when Apollo did.
It s
urprised me that I wasn’t envious, but there was nothing to be jealous of, I realized.
Ella was ours.
There was no favoritism here.
“Are you okay, Ella?” Apollo asked softly, as he slid an arm over her shoulder and clasped her tightly to his side.
“No. No, I’m not, but at least he knows me. What happened, Icarus? I can’t remember anything.”
There was no hesitation in Icarus’ voice as he started to explain, “There isn’t that much to tell you, Ella. You were killed in a car crash, and that brought Cressida into our world. She came to the funeral parlor Hades runs, and we swiftly realized we were connected. At least, Hades did. He retrieved you before you could cross the Styx, and you accompanied us as we tried to figure out what and who Cressida was to us.
“When we met with Zeus, he wasn’t pleased to see you. It seemed as though you’d passed over ahead of your time, and as a result, he returned you to the world of the living. Zeus and Hades never do anything like that, and it came as a surprise to us because Cressida had wanted to release you, to let you go and to lead your own path back into the Underworld since you weren’t happy staying as a ghost.
“Before we could even make such a request, though, Zeus made you disappear, and we lost any trace of you. It broke Cressy’s heart. Who are you, Ella? How are you? Are you okay?”
“I-I’m fine. Thank you, Icarus. I’m just confused.”
“Why are you calling from Achilles’ cell number?”
“She’s our tín eaftoú gynaíka,” Apollo intoned softly.
“Shit. That explains a lot.”
“What?” Ella demanded. “What does it explain? I still feel lost.”
He blew out a breath. “When we came to meet with Apollo a few months ago, we required some time on his territory. When you saw Apollo, you were rather attached. Cressy said you believed he was depressed.”
“I did?” I watched as she gaped down at the phone, then blushed as she shot Apollo a mortified look.
“Yes. Hades found it most amusing. Mental health issues don’t affect the Gods, or so his arrogance would have us all believe.”
As much as there was to dislike about Apollo, I knew his arrogance in no way surpassed Hades’. Not only the God of the Dead but also the King of the Underworld, the three royal brothers—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—all had attitudes that were larger than life itself.
Apollo did suffer from bouts of depression. I’d been on duty as his guardian the last time he’d had to endure that particular illness. His last wife had died, and he’d mourned her greatly. He always felt the passing of his spouses deeply. It was the one good thing about him.
“Can I speak with Cressy?”
“Sure can. She’s due back any moment. She’s rehearsing. We’re back in Vegas.”
“You are?” Ella reached up and rubbed her temple again. “Is that where we’re from?”
“Yes.” Icarus hesitated. “Don’t you remember?”
Apollo broke in, “There are many things that Ella still doesn’t remember, Icarus. She’s having trouble aligning the two sides of her memory.”
“Oh. Yes. I can imagine how confusing that is.” For a second, I could hear the change in his voice as he turned analytical—the scientist in him flaring to life as he considered Ella’s unique situation. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something like this happening before.”
Apollo and I shot each other a look. One that said we hadn’t heard of it either, and that was no word of a lie. The only other time it had happened was when Hades and Zeus had returned the guardians to life.
They’d brought back men like myself, and those like Castor and Pollux. Renowned Greek heroes that had made a name for themselves with their bravery and strength. Then, they’d brought back demi-Gods, those who had parents among the important deities on Olympus.
“What’s happening here, Icarus?” Apollo asked quietly. “Did Zeus explain it to you?”
“He merely said that it was time for us to procreate.”
“Yes. We haven’t sired any demi-Gods since we were banished from Mount Olympus.”
“Twenty-four hundred years without any further deities is a long time. Zeus said that he’d worked with the Fates to bring women to us, but…”
“But what?”
“I tell you this only because our women are like sisters, Apollo,” Icarus warned, and the threat in his voice had my brows rising. Though I’d disagreed with him earlier, Apollo wasn’t wrong. Icarus wasn’t known for being aggressive. Not outside of his research.
“Of course. I have never meant Hades or his guardians any harm,” Apollo stated calmly, and only because I knew him so well did I know he spoke the truth.
Icarus huffed. “I wish Hades had received that message.”
“I’m well aware he doesn’t like me.”
That had him snorting. “Understatement. But that’s mostly because of Orpheus.” Nash was Apollo’s son.
Apollo shrugged—not that Icarus could see it. “Yet another of my many mistakes.”
Ella shot him a sharp look but remained quiet, content to be a part of this conversation.
“What is this information that you guard behind threats, Icarus?”
“She is of your kin.”
“Who is?” Apollo demanded, his scowl darkening his golden features.
“Cressida. Hades said your blood runs through her veins, even though it’s faint. He’ll be angry if he finds out I told you. He wished to keep it from you in case you threatened to claim her.”
Apollo scowled at that. “Because I often go around claiming those who are of my siring. I can’t keep my own children in line, Icarus, never mind those who only have a sliver of connection to my lineage.”
There was a definite shrug in the other guardian’s voice, “Hades doesn’t trust you.”
A statement that had Apollo rolling his eyes. “Yes. As we’ve already ascertained.”
“From what Zeus said and did, we realized that Ella was to be a wife of another God. But I have to wonder if she too has the blood of a God running through her veins. Have you discerned any?”
Apollo pursed his lips and evaded the question by saying, “My talents have been geared toward reducing her injuries.”
I didn’t question why he failed to mention Ella’s ties to Hecate. In certain situations, I knew it was best to leave him to handle matters.
“Well, when you can, check. There has to be some common thread that links these women. It’s coincidence enough that they’re friends.”
Apollo frowned. “I will monitor the situation after Cressida and Ella have spoken.”
Icarus cleared his throat to hide what I believed was a laugh. I couldn’t blame him. Sometimes, Apollo was capable of sounding like an utter prick.
Having been tied to him for a couple of thousand years, I’d grown accustomed to it. Barely.
Chapter Five
Ella
Inside, I was shaking.
Hell, outside I was too.
I was one big tremor because Cressida was something tangible in my past that I could almost reach out and touch. I knew her face, knew her voice. I clung to those memories with a desperation that surprised even me, but I needed something to ground me.
I had these guys, all hot and sexy to be sure, but they might as well have been flying with the northern gannets all around us. They were so far out of my league, and they were selling me this one line that was almost beyond belief. That isn’t to say I didn’t believe them. I did. It was just… I needed Cressida to ground me.
That she, too, was one of these tín eaftoú gynaíkas, helped.
“Rus?”
I heard her voice and felt tears prick my eyes once more.
God. More recognition.
I hadn’t realized how out of control I’d been feeling until just now.
“Cressy, someone’s on the line for you.”
“There is? Who?”
“Ella.”
Silence c
ame at his statement, and it was quickly followed by a sobbed out, “No!”
I heard the smile in Icarus’s voice as he told her, “Yes. She’s alive.”
“She is? Oh my God.” There was the sound of hurried footsteps and I heard her snatch the phone from a laughing Icarus—he sounded like someone I’d want to know, he was so cheerful. “Ella?” she breathed.
“Cressy?” I squeaked.
“Please, tell me this isn’t a dream?”
“I don’t think it is. Seriously, these last few months have been more of a nightmare than a dream.”
“Oh, honey, it is you.”
That had me blinking at the phone. “How do you figure that?”
She laughed. “Because you sound like you, silly.”
“I do?” I stared at the men with confusion. “That can’t be possible. I’m not me anymore, Cressy.”
“Huh?”
“I-I came back as someone else. I’m in someone else’s body.”
“What? Like a demonic possession?”
I loved that her mind ran along the same track as mine. Before I could snort out a laugh, Achilles grumbled, “If I’d wondered if this was something you guys had made up, I’d know from that statement alone it was the truth. You are friends.”
“Who’s that?” Cressy asked, voice sharp.
“It’s one of…” I blinked because I had no idea what to call them. Before they could reply, put words in my mouth, I told her, “Whatever Rus is to you, he’s that to me.”
Cressy hooted. “Holy shit, you’re married too? I mean, we hoped as much, otherwise, Zeus wouldn’t have gotten involved, but it happened so quickly! It’s only been about five months since you left me, and that’s not long at all even if it felt like a lifetime.”
There was something in her tone that didn’t fit with the Cressy I’d known, and when it hit me, it saddened me because I hated where my mind had taken me—she sounded happy. Which meant, before I’d died, in my most recent memories of her, she hadn’t been.
Rubbing at my temples for the millionth time in the past five minutes, I tried to assuage the ache that had gathered there. It was weird. It was like the two sets of memories were cleaving my brain, causing an ache that I felt sure even Apollo’s miracle touch couldn’t cure.
The Sun Revolves Around Apollo (The Gods Are Back In Town Book 2) Page 14