A sympathetic smile curved the perfect lips. “Yes. He’s mine.”
Great. Another female who thinks she has her hooks into him.
“Ian’s my grandson.” Aphrodite stood and wandered around the room. “His father, Annar, was such a disappointment. Of course, I love him, but he’s so limited in his abilities. It’s hard to believe he’s the son of the Goddess of Love and Odin, the Nordic God of Wisdom. He’s so…mortal.” Her nose wrinkled briefly, and then her face brightened as she preened in front of a mirror where she’d stopped. Bending over, she adjusted her perky boobs, and when she straightened, her perfect cleavage was even more perfect. “Of course, Ian’s changed all of that. He has powers he doesn’t realize yet.”
Aphrodite returned to her seat at the end of Emma’s bed. “Still, I can’t believe he’s fallen in love with a mortal. And one who needs so much help.”
Emma stared at the supposed goddess, at a loss for words. Obviously, she wanted to believe Ian’s story, and this was how her subconscious had decided to make it work.
A damn big something zipped by her face. Emma ducked and pulled the covers over her head. “What the—” Her muffled irritation was lost in a shout from the goddess.
“Cupid! You bad boy.” Annoyance mingled with pride in Aphrodite’s voice. “Why are you following me?”
“Bored! That last chick you sent me out to woo is a real yawner. Really, Mother, you’ve got to do better on the females if you want me to get my groove on.”
Curiosity got the better of Emma, and she slowly lowered the blanket. On the chest where the Goddess of Love had propped her ass most of the evening now sat a fat little cherub.
“Oh, my poor darling.” Aphrodite put an arm around the shoulders of the winged fellow. “You’ve got to realize all the details of your job. A major priority is to make humans feel they are worthy of the love we set them up with. That’s why I gave you this special assignment. You did visit her as Eros, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mother. I hooked up with her in a bar and put the moves on her. She spilled a drink all over me, stepped on my foot several times when I asked her to dance, and when I finally convinced her to invite me back to her place, she wouldn’t shut up. Talked non-stop about her dumb cat and every damn pet she’d had since childhood. To keep from going to sleep myself, I had to hit her with doze powder.” He yawned and stretched. “That’s when I decided to track you down and thank you for hosing me once again. Why can’t you send Eros out to woo some hot chick?”
“Because hot chicks don’t need Eros. They already feel worthy. In fact, some of them too much so.” Aphrodite tugged on a wing and smiled. “Now, will you make Mother happy and go finish the assignment? I’m sure after a long nap, your friend will be more receptive to your advances.”
“Oh, all right.” The petulant expression relayed his reluctance. “For you, I’ll do it.”
“That’s my boy.”
He fluttered off the seat and sailed around the room, pausing above Emma. “Who is this? I can tell she’s a candidate in need of our help.” He pulled an arrow from the small quiver on his back, threaded his bow, and pointed. “Can I shoot her, Mom? Can I?”
“Don’t be silly, Cupid. When was the last time I let you shoot one of my special projects?”
“See, you never let me have any fun.”
Aphrodite shook her head and sighed. “Stop it. Besides, this one may become your niece.”
“Niece? I thought all the kids of my siblings were already married.”
“Ian, isn’t.” The goddess looked exasperated at the blank look she received. “Annarr’s son. The Faerie Prince.”
“Right.” A scowl flashed across Cupid’s face as he peered down at Emma with closer scrutiny.
“And he wants to marry this one because?”
“That’s exactly the question I asked, but it seems the Powers have different ideas.” The goddess toyed with a lock of blonde hair and shrugged. “In fact, they brought the Cailleach’s magic into the picture.”
“That old hag. What can she do that my arrows can’t? Especially for my nephew.”
Aphrodite shrugged. “I have no idea, but that’s the way it is, so put your arrow away and go back to the job assigned to Eros.”
“Fine.” He cast another doubtful glance at Emma and shook his head. “Later then, Mom. And good luck with whatever you’re supposed to do with Frump Girl. You’re going to need it.”
The goddess giggled as the cherub vanished in a puff.
“Children! What’s one to do with them after they grow up?” She turned her attention back to Emma. “It is getting late, and we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, so off to sleep with you?”
“What are we doing tomorrow?”
“Shopping of course, dear. It’s my job to de-frump you. Can’t have my grandson embarrassed by the way you dress.” She smoothed down her skirt and waved. “Be ready bright and early. Toodles.”
Emma collapsed back onto a pillow, glad this dream had finally ended.
“Coffee. God, I need coffee.” Emma stumbled into the kitchen and fumbled for the filters and the bag of espresso blend. The more caffeine the better this morning. Ignoring the water that sloshed when she poured it into the coffee maker, she searched for her favorite mug, which finally turned up in the dishwasher. She needed to have another conversation with her roommate about unloading the clean dishes.
Elbows braced on the counter, she inhaled the first sip of coffee and burned her tongue.
Damn, I’m tired. This dream crap has got to stop, or I’m going to become a zombie. Cori needs to get her ass back home. Maybe she knows of some woo-woo dream specialist to hook me up with to get a reading on why mine have been so strange lately.
Fortified by a pot of coffee and a stale muffin, Emma decided a shower would be next on her list. A splash of cold water should finish the job the caffeine jolt started. After she dressed, a call to the PI would be next. This was the age of the internet, and surely some of the databases he had access to would give him a place to start.
The doorbell dragged her from her mental list, and she grumbled all the way to discover who dared interrupt her morning.
So help me, if it’s some door to door peddler, I’m going to boot his ass down the steps.
Yet another thing she needed to do—get the ‘No Soliciting’ sign Cori promised to pick up, but never had.
The scowl to discourage conversation from the person on the other side disappeared when she flung the door open.
Dressed in a killer pencil skirt, cinched waist red top, leopard heels, and carrying a tote that Emma could never afford, Barbie from her latest nightmare pushed her designer sunglasses down her nose and grinned. “So, you ready, toots?”
Chapter Twenty Six
“My ears! She discovered my fucking ears have points, and it freaked her out.”
No, be honest. I freaked her out with the truth. Her noticing my ears forced me to confess.
Ian threw the shoe he’d just removed across the room and winced at the scuff it left on the bureau. That wouldn’t please Helmond. The fastidious old elf hated marks the on furniture.
A knock on the door earned a grimace and he reluctantly called out, “Come in.” He might as well get the elf’s sour pinched glare over with, not to mention all the mumblings that would go with it while Helmond polished out the scuff.
Relief surged through him when he saw who stood in the doorway. Just the person he needed to talk to.
“I heard a noise and wanted to make sure everything’s all right.” Deena puckered her forehead.
“Nae, I may never be all right again.”
Instead of asking what he meant, Helmond’s bride nodded.
“She rejected me, Deena. I’m never to contact her again.”
Deena raised an eyebrow. “You went to Denver to see her, didn’t you?”
“Aye, that I did. I thought it time to tell her the truth about my life.”
“Didn’t go well?”
>
“You can say that. She thinks I’m crazy. Said she has enough crazies in her life and for me to leave her alone.” He wandered over to the window and stared out at the morning mist, leaning his forehead against the lead glass pane. “What am I to do? My life is nothing without her.”
Ian turned and searched for an answer on Deena’s face. “Do you think if you spoke to her, she’d understand?”
She frowned and pursed her lips.
“I’d buy you a first class ticket.”
She shook her head. “Ian, it’s only been a few days, and I think you should give her a little time to think things over. I know being away from Helmond helped my decision. I missed him so much, so when he asked me to come back with him, I didn’t need to think twice.”
“But you didn’t know his real existence.”
“I suspected.” Deena smiled.
“And what am I to do while I wait?”
“Come to terms with the changes that are happening in your immortal self.” Deena offered a brief smile, walked to the door, and closed it softly behind her.
He didn’t want to think about his powers and how they continued to grow. A lifetime of ignoring them had served him well. Maybe most men loved women fawning over them, but he resented it. Along with his thoughts creating storms, he had to deal with people’s private thoughts popping into his head and the increasing chatter from the wind. The only power that served him well was his ability to heal, which allowed him to give to mankind.
A walk on the moors and along the cliffs would clear his mind. He retrieved his old walking boots and a frayed hunting jacket from the closet and then headed for his favorite haunts.
The wind howled as he approached the cliffs overlooking the sea, and the dense fog shrouded the cloaked figure that stood staring out into the limited visibility. He considered changing his course, but his curiosity to see who else ventured out on such a nasty day won.
His boots crunched on the pebbles worn smooth by time and elements. When the figure turned toward his direction, he wasn’t surprised.
“Aaah, young Prince Ian, I see you heard my call.” The old hag offered up a snaggle-toothed grin and let the hood of her cape drop back. The wind whipped strands of stringy, white hair around her wrinkled face.
He’d heard no call from her or anyone else. “I needed to think, and a walk helps clear the mind.”
“Aye, it does.” DooNell’s unblinking eyes never left his face. “You have plenty to think over, don’t you?”
Ian nodded and moved closer to prevent the wind from whisking away his words. “Life has become complicated.”
“I know.” She offered a sad smile and placed a hand on his arm. “But you’re strong and can handle it.”
Can I? He’d made more of a mess of things than handled them. Countless thoughts swam through his mind, but three lingered—the increasing powers he wanted to ignore but couldn’t, Morgana and allowing her to live with the delusion they could be more than friends—but Emma pulling away hurt the most.
“She needs time.” The hag squeezed his arm. “You told her more than she could handle at that moment.” She turned and looked out to sea. “And she has more surprises yet to come.”
“How so? What can I do to help her?”
“Never you mind. They don’t concern you directly.” DooNell raised her face to the wind and sniffed the air. “It is something with which she will have to deal, and she needs to do so without your help.” Her watery black eyes bore into him. “But what she discovers may bring her back to you.”
The old hag dropped her hand and placed it on the crook of her cromach. The stick helped her balance on the rocky terrain as she walked away without so much as a goodbye.
Ian watched until the mist swallowed the fading figure and then turned to stare at the sea. The breeze had died, and the fog now obscured the water. Waves crashed against the rocks below, and he peered down into the dense grey mist. He picked up a rock and tossed it over the side into what seemed a bottomless pit. The surf drowned the sound of its clanking against the boulders below.
What had the old woman meant? Could his powers help him discover the surprises Emma still had to face? Even if she didn’t want him in her life, he’d protect her from any pain he could.
The swirling mist offered no answers, and he started the trek back to the castle. He would embrace his powers—all of them. And he’d use them to help the woman he loved. He just needed to figure out how.
Emma’s arms couldn’t hold any more. “You’ve got to stop dragging clothes off the racks. It’s going to take me all frigging day to try on all this crap.”
Aphrodite tossed her curls and sniffed. “You have no sense of adventure.”
“When does adventure apply to pulling weird outfits on and off?”
“Have you really looked in the mirror recently? Your best outfit wouldn’t work for a costume party. I’ve seen hobos with a better sense of style.”
No, Emma hadn’t looked in the mirror. Mirrors were things she tried to avoid, but she didn’t need some other worldly goddess pointing out for the gazillionth time how sad her wardrobe had become. Especially when the blonde bombshell called the man Emma loved her grandson.
Yes, I’m crazy. I accept that immortals still roam around, faeries are real, and there are creatures I don’t know about or want to know about living among us.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not in your social group now, isn’t it?” Emma didn’t attempt to keep the sneer from her voice. She’d had about enough of Miss Perfect and her ideas on what constituted good fashion. From what she could see, anything cut up to the ass or slit down to the belly button went on the list. Stacy and Clinton could do a month’s worth of What Not to Wear episodes on Aphrodite’s choices if they were doing new episodes.
The goddess could take her selections and shove them where the sun didn’t shine. Emma dammed well had no intention of dressing like a trashy slut or a tarted up Barbie to please a woman as old as dirt, no matter how hot the bitch looked.
If she weren’t a goddess, Aphrodite would have the Botox market cornered. If the goddess were mortal she’d keep a plastic surgeon busy. Being immortal saved a lot on cosmetic procedures, that was for sure.
“Let’s take these clothes and your attitude to a dressing room.” Aphrodite, or Di as she’d instructed Emma to call her a few minutes ago, scooped several more items off racks they passed on their way through the women’s department.
The salesclerk’s eyes lit up brighter than a slot machine jackpot when she saw the motherlode in their arms. Emma bit hard on the inside of her cheek to stop a groan.
Boy, is this chick going to be disappointed when I walk out with nothing.
“Okay, toots. Get your behind in there, and let’s see what we can achieve with you.”
Not giving Aphrodite the chance to suggest she tag along, Emma hurried into the dressing room. Di held onto the ones that she couldn’t fit on the hooks.
Why hadn’t she told the blonde bimbo to get lost? Probably because Emma was in shock that the goddess actually existed. She nodded and rushed to do as instructed. The past few days had given her one shock after another. What was one more?
Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
She studied her reflection. Aphrodite did have a valid point, at least about this outfit. When had she lost weight? The once tight pants now bagged in the seat and thighs.
Good thing I have hipbones.
She reached for the first piece and wrinkled her nose.
I hate grey. It washes me out.
A peek at the size, and she started to toss the suit over the open space of the louvered door. No way in hell would it fit her ass.
But look how your clothes bag on you.
The little voice in her head won the battle, and she removed the pants from the hanger. The slacks hugged her body, and she actually had an ass when she turned sideways. Goes to show what you know. A teal sweater under a fitted jacket finished off the o
utfit. She had to admit it didn’t look bad. Still, no way would she tell the know-it-all chick waiting to check her out.
Reluctance to hear “I told you so,” made her hesitate before she opened the door. Get it over with, chicken. She flung open the door and stomped to the sitting area where Aphrodite sat admiring her nails.
Emma coughed and she looked up. The drop of Di’s jaw said it all.
Damn, I look good!
Two hours later, exhaustion made it difficult to narrow down her final section of the items that met with Aphrodite’s approval. They all looked fantastic on her, even the sexier dresses and tops she would never have picked out if left to her own devices.
“What’s taking so long?” Aphrodite walked in.
“I’m trying to decide.” Emma turned her attention back to the black sheath. Every gal needed a great black dress and with the right accessories, this one worked for most occasions.
“What’s there to decide? They all look terrific on you.” Aphrodite covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.
“Yes, but my budget can’t handle a dozen new outfits.”
“Not to worry, darling. My treat. After all, you’re almost family.”
I’m not family and probably never will be, the way I chased Ian off.
“Nope. I pay my own way.” She wasn’t a charity case yet. Though if she didn’t focus more on work and less on her personal life, she’d be broke soon. She did a quick mental calculation on her credit card balance and decided to shoot for the moon. After Aphrodite left, she’d return most of the outfits.
The number continued to rise as the clerk scanned each item. Emma held her breath, praying she didn’t exceed her limit. She couldn’t face the humiliation of declined in front of the goddess, especially after rejecting her kind offer to pay. When approved flashed on the screen of the signature box, she managed not to let out a sigh of relief.
At the cosmetic counter, Aphrodite insisted she have a makeover, and Emma came away with more makeup than she’d bought in a lifetime.
Good thing I have more than one credit card.
Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Page 21