Pan's Conquest (Entangled Covet)

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Pan's Conquest (Entangled Covet) Page 7

by Aubrie Dionne


  “Parker, did you see that?”

  Parker glanced at her, then focused on the road. Thick rain pounded the windshield, and he squinted to make out the turn. “See what?”

  “A girl just ran into the woods.”

  He shrugged. “Probably some hiker.”

  “I don’t think so. She had almost nothing on, and we’re in the middle of nowhere. Maybe we should go back for her?”

  Before Parker could respond, the girl surfaced again with one arm hugging the side of a tree. She stared directly at them with cold, dark eyes and a scowl on her face.

  “There she is.” Syrinx pointed up ahead. “How the hell did she catch up to us? We must be going seventy miles an hour.”

  “More like sixty in this rain. It’s too—”

  A deer bounded onto the highway, crossing directly in their path. Syrinx jabbed her finger at the windshield and screamed. “Watch out!”

  Parker swerved, and their tires screeched as they glided over the rain-slickened highway. The forest came at them. Syrinx reached out and shielded Parker with her arm as the other one held on to the passenger door.

  Time slowed and Syrinx felt numb, like the chain of events happened to someone else. They careered into the embankment, rolled twice, and hit an evergreen upside down. An airbag inflated in her face. She batted it down, trying to get her senses and assess the damage.

  Her other arm still held on to Parker, and she moved her fingers, clutching his shirt. “Parker, are you all right?” Her voice shook with panic. Parker was mortal, and something like this could kill him in an instant, although her side had taken the brunt of the damage. If she were a mortal woman, she’d have been dead on impact.

  Parker coughed and rubbed his head. “I’m fine. What about you?”

  She breathed with relief. Then a new surge of panic rose within her as she realized she had no way of explaining her superhuman fortitude. “I’m okay. It looks as though the embankment slowed us down, and the tree broke our fall. We’re lucky we’re not dead.” Hopefully, that theory and the fact that he’d just totaled his Jaguar will distract him.

  Syrinx remembered the young woman in the forest and fumbled with her seat belt. What if they’d hit her on their way down?

  “Can you get out?” She unclicked her seat belt and fell forward, righting herself when her feet hit the ceiling.

  Parker had already—somehow—unbuckled himself. He kicked open his badly dented door and jumped out, then turned around and offered his hand. “Come on. We need to get out before the car explodes.”

  That only happened in movies, didn’t it? Whatever the case, Syrinx didn’t want Parker anywhere near that car. She grabbed his hand, and he helped her out into the rain.

  They climbed the embankment, and Syrinx took in the scene in shock. The Jaguar was a twisted, banged-up piece of scrap metal. Tracks veered from the road, digging up clumps of earth and scarring the green grass on the side of the road. There was no sign of the young woman.

  Parker wiped rain from his brow. “You said you saw a young woman on the side of the road?”

  “Yes.” Syrinx used her hand to shield her eyes from the rain. “But she’s not here now.”

  “What did she look like?” Parker’s voice was insistent, almost desperate.

  “Young, with long dark hair. Why? Do you know her?”

  He grabbed both her shoulders. “How long was her hair?”

  Syrinx thought back. “Unusually long, tapering at her waist.” Coral had that same hair. But it was impossible she’d be here in the mortal world. They’d made a bargain.

  Parker turned away, but she could see him ball his fists in anger. Something isn’t right. Why did he care what she looked like? How the hell could he know a girl on the side of the road? He didn’t seem to care at all until after the accident, which made even less sense. A current of unease stirred in her gut. Syrinx followed him, pulling on his sleeve. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s nothing.” He brought his phone from his pocket. “I have to call for a tow truck and a rental car.”

  “A tow truck? Shouldn’t we be calling an ambulance?” She’d avoided hospitals because she didn’t know how her goddess blood would look on a paramedic’s scans, but she’d worry about that later. Parker could have internal injuries or a concussion.

  “No. I’m fine. I’ll get checked out later, I promise.” His eyes lit up as though he had an idea. “Unless you need medical attention?”

  The thought of the paramedics finding out her secret shut her mouth. She could see the headline in the newspaper: “Superwoman Found.” “No, go ahead. We need to get to this funeral.” Too bad she couldn’t tell him about her goddess powers. She could transport them there in a millisecond. But that was another vow she’d have to break.

  “Okay.” Parker dialed the number and started to talk, leaving Syrinx with unanswered questions. All she knew was that there was more to Parker Thomas than he was letting on.

  Chapter Nine Castle in the Clouds

  The tow truck dropped them off at a small town with the crappiest rental cars Pan had ever seen. If he had been by himself, he could have transported himself right to the front door of Rutherford’s family’s estate, never mind dreaming up another Jaguar from thin air. But no, he had to take Syrinx with him, complicating matters to the nth degree. Why did he want her to share in his misery in the first place?

  Because he needed her. He trusted her. She’d become more than just a conquest. She’d become his friend. Funny, the god of fertility, lover extraordinaire, and mischievous philanderer of the forest had never needed friends before.

  Now, because of his neediness, he’d allowed Coral to threaten everything he’d come here for. She coaxed that deer onto the highway. He was sure of it. Could Coral be taking out her revenge? He should have never entered into that deal with her to find Syrinx’s whereabouts. Now she expected something from him in return, and he couldn’t give it to her, not the way he did before. He desired no one but Syrinx.

  “A gold Buick LaCrosse? That’s all you have?”

  The older woman at the counter gave him a tired smile. “I’m sorry, sir. With such little notice…”

  Syrinx took his arm and pulled him away from the counter. “Whatever will get us there, right?”

  Pan nodded. She had a calming effect on him. When he looked into her eyes, he felt as if this whole mess of a situation would turn out okay in one way or another. “You’re right.”

  He paid for the rental with his limitless credit card, and they hopped into the car and got back on the highway. This time he drove even slower despite the fact that they were already two hours late.

  “I’m sorry about your car.” Syrinx gave him a sympathetic look.

  “That’s okay.” He waved it off. Although his Jaguar didn’t explode, he’d never drive it again. Thankfully, he could dream up another one from thin air. But he couldn’t tell Syrinx that. In fact, his nonchalance was probably confusing her. He added, “I’m sure my insurance will cover it.”

  She laughed. “I’d like to see that claim bill.”

  “I wouldn’t.” He glanced at her and smiled.

  She looked away and picked at a frayed hole in her sexy skinny jeans. The mood in the car suddenly changed.

  Syrinx pulled at the string until it came free, then wrapped it around her finger. “Back there at the crash scene, did you know who that woman was?”

  Pan tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Busted. He shouldn’t have even asked. But in the heat of the moment, he was so angry, he hadn’t thought about how strange the question sounded. For a second—and only a second—he considered coming clean and telling her the truth. But he couldn’t risk losing her, not now when he needed her the most.

  His conscience ached like an open wound. I should tell her a partial truth, in the least.

  He took a deep breath and pursed his lips. Here it goes…“I’m no stranger to stalkers.”

  Syrinx blinked, trying to make sense
of his statement. “What do you mean?”

  “There was this…female who’d done a favor for me. I thought she was just being nice at the time, but it turned out she wanted more, and I didn’t feel that way toward her. She couldn’t take no for an answer.” Reality hit him hard in the face, harder than the crash. What Coral was doing to him was exactly what he did to Syrinx. How could he have been so blind?

  Syrinx shook her head. “You mean you think she’s out there in those woods throwing deer at our car?”

  “I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s who I thought of when you described her. She likes to go barefoot.”

  Syrinx stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “A woman who tramps around in a slip with long, dark, wet hair? What kind of a stalker is that? I mean, she reminds me of the Korean water ghost from The Ring.”

  He shrugged. “You asked. That’s the truth.”

  “Yikes. And I thought what I had was bad.”

  Pan resisted the urge to cringe. Here she was again, going on about the hideousness of her “stalker.”

  Before he could reply, turrets poked from the trees up ahead.

  Syrinx pointed ahead. “What is that?”

  “I’m not sure.” He checked Rutherford’s address again on a piece of paper he’d thrown by the parking brake.

  “Are we lost?”

  “No. I know exactly where we are.” He had excellent navigational skills. He’d run naked through the forest for eons without a map. Why would he need one now?

  They turned the corner around the side of a mountain, and a stone castle claimed the summit of the larger mountain beside it. Massive stone battlements and turrets rose beyond the tallest evergreens, making Pan’s estate look like some child’s dollhouse. They crossed a stone bridge crusted with orange lichen and green moss and passed through two open gates to a courtyard. Perfectly sculptured shrubs lined the cobblestone driveway leading to the inner keep. Metal suits of armor stood like sentinels on either side, brandishing rusty metal swords with jewels lodged in the hilts. Walls of stone framed long, arched stained-glass windows. A giant staircase of golden-veined gray marble led to the front door.

  Pan parked by the giant stone pillar at the bottom of the staircase. It took a lot to impress a god, and Rutherford’s family estate fully impressed him. No wonder his butler never cashed those checks. He didn’t need them. “I think we’re here.”

  They walked up the stone steps with hesitation. Syrinx craned her neck to watch pigeons nest in the rafters as Pan took the large ring on the door and knocked with three ominous thuds.

  “I take it Rutherford didn’t mention his summer home?” Syrinx smiled with amusement.

  “No. He did not.” Pan tapped his foot while he waited, feeling somewhat out of the loop and more than a little hurt. How could Rutherford have kept such a secret from him?

  Well, you kept some whoppers of your own from him.

  A young lanky man wearing a black suit answered the door. “Can I help you?”

  Pan stepped forward. “We’re here for the funeral for Rutherford Hayes.”

  The man didn’t move. “And you are?”

  “Parker Thomas. He…worked with me on my estate. This is my associate, Sylvia Rain.”

  His face brightened with recognition. He stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. “Of course. Mr. Hayes is expecting you. Welcome to the Castle in the Clouds.”

  “Wonderful.” Pan breathed with relief even though he knew he had the right address. “Please give our sincere apologies for our tardiness. We had an accident on the way and were detained.”

  The butler helped with their luggage and led them up an exotic, hardwood stairway to a thickly carpeted corridor. Massive paintings of regal people who looked like monarchs lined the walls. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  Pan exchanged a glance with Syrinx. Better not to get into great detail. “We’re both fine, thank you. My car is another story, though.”

  “A pity, sir.” He stopped at the end of the hall, where a stone bust of a shrewd-looking woman stared down the length of the corridor. Below her neck lay a golden plaque with the name Eleanor Hayes—Rutherford’s wife. She seemed to stare right at Pan and see his very soul.

  The butler unlocked one of the doors. “Will you be staying in the same room?”

  Pan almost choked at the thought of all he could accomplish with that idea. But he didn’t want to make Syrinx uncomfortable. “No. Separate accommodations are necessary, thank you.”

  Bedside him, Syrinx breathed with relief, which annoyed Pan a little. He could give her pleasures she couldn’t imagine. Would it really be that bad?

  The butler opened two doors across from each other. “Please let me know if you need anything else. The ceremony is going on out back. You may join them at any time.”

  “Thank you.” Pan helped Syrinx with her luggage. Her room faced the gardens, where he could see a small gathering of people in black. His stomach dropped. “We should hurry.”

  She opened her luggage and rummaged around. “I only need a few moments.” She pulled out a skinny, long black dress.

  He stared at the spaghetti straps. Oh how he longed to watch her slip that on. And off. “Good. Knock on my door when you’re ready.”

  Pan entered his own room and clicked his fingers. In one second, he’d changed from his rumpled wet clothes into a double-breasted Giorgio Armani suit with an excellent cut. “That should do the trick.”

  Moments later, Syrinx knocked on the door. She had a trick of her own. Pan smiled in amusement at her less-than-satisfactory human impersonation. Any mortal woman would have taken three times that long. But it didn’t matter to him. He already knew her secret.

  With a smile, he opened the door.

  She looked gorgeous in an understated, respectful way. Compassion shone in her eyes. “Are you ready?”

  The impact of the moment hit him hard in the stomach, a moment he’d dreaded the whole trip. He was going to Rutherford’s funeral. Rutherford was gone. Even days later, the thought came at him with a dagger’s edge, cutting him up every time he let it in. “I’ll never be ready.”

  She slid her arm in his and squeezed it. “That’s why I’m here.”

  They walked to the garden out back, where a man stood under a gazebo. At a distance, he looked like any other man, but when Pan drew close, he saw the same angles in his face, the same gleam in his eyes. But this man’s eyes were green—Pan’s true color. The major difference lay in the man’s sun-kissed blond hair, wider nose, and a few wrinkles around his eyes.

  Syrinx clutched his arm tighter. “By the gods, that man looks just like you.”

  Suddenly everything made sense—why Rutherford took the position, why he’d become such a father figure to him. Pan reminded him of his son because he looked just like him. “If I had to guess, I’d say that’s Daniel Hayes.”

  Could Rutherford’s family be some distant descendants of Pan’s? Pan had certainly had enough maiden “encounters” to spur a whole legacy. Guilt panged hard in his chest. Suddenly, he wished he’d kept better tabs on their lives.

  Daniel held a small crumpled piece of paper in his hand. “Many years ago, when my mother passed away, my father asked me to read this at his own funeral. And so, here I am, keeping my promise. This is attributed to A. Price Hughes.”

  He cleared his throat and started to recite the poem,

  “If I should die and leave you here awhile,

  Be not like others, sore undone, who keep

  Long vigils by the silent dust, and weep.

  For my sake turn again to life and smile,

  Nerving thy heart and trembling hands to do

  Something to comfort weaker hearts than thine.

  Complete those dear unfinished tasks of mine

  And I perchance may therein comfort you.”

  Unfinished tasks? What were Rutherford’s unfinished tasks? Pan wished he knew. The old man had done so much for him in such a short time, opening his eye
s to the feeling of being cared for, of being loved—and not in the cheap way Pan “loved,” in a deeper, more spiritual connection. In a way, Rutherford had made Pan more human.

  The funeral wound down, and they walked to the back of the grounds, where a wrought iron fence enclosed an ancient graveyard. Tombstones covered in moss stood from the ground, some cracked and tipped, and others so old, the writing had been worn away by time and wind. A newer plot lay toward the right side, where a polished stone read Eleanor Hayes’s name.

  Workers laid Rutherford’s coffin in the ground beside her as members of his family threw white roses on the slick oak casket. As the crowd thinned, Pan and Syrinx remained. They could feel no shivers or cold from the rain, nor hunger or physical pain. Yet pain and emptiness were there, eating a hole in Pan’s gut and leaving an ache in his heart.

  “You drove a long way to be here.” Daniel Hayes stepped beside Pan and offered his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Thomas. I only wish the circumstances of our meeting were better.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Pan squeezed his hand.

  “And yours, as well.” Daniel shook Syrinx’s hand next. “Thank you for giving my father something to do in his last days.”

  “I did nothing.” Embarrassment humbled Pan. “And he did everything for me.”

  Daniel smiled sadly. “Sounds like my father. He wanted to do everything for me, and I had to break away and live my own life, carve my own path in this world. I didn’t want to leech off his money as much as he wanted to give it to me. I wanted to make my own. I had to get away if I was ever going to fend for myself.” His hands shook. “I had to leave him.”

  “Understandable.” Pan watched as Syrinx threw her own white rose on the newly turned earth. She started walking to the other end of the cemetery, giving him his space to ask the questions that lingered on his tongue. “He knew what you had to do. I’m sure he was very proud.”

  Daniel nodded, although his frown made Pan suspect he didn’t believe him. “Come inside out of the rain. I have food for everyone.”

  “I have to bother you for two more things.” Pan reached inside his suit and took out a wad of envelopes. “The first is a bunch of Rutherford’s checks. He never cashed any of them, and I’m a little confused. Although seeing his estate, I can see why he didn’t need them. I have no idea why he took the job.”

 

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