Divine Ambrosia

by Vivienne Savage

  Once she started kissing him, she couldn’t stop. Something small, like a kernel of confidence she hadn’t known could blossom inside her, took over completely and guided her hands. Guided her mouth and her tongue until she was delivering kisses over his jaw, his throat, nibbling his earlobe and taking her sweet time with exploring the way his pulse beat beneath her lips when she returned to his neck. Her fingers slid over his thigh until she found the prominent, impossible to hide bulge beneath his fly.

  A month seemed like years ago.

  Esme unzipped his jeans, ignoring the empty rows ahead of them, the faded rectangle of light that shone directly above their heads at the screen, and the fact that someone could walk up on them at any moment.

  “What are you—?”

  “Shhh,” she whispered against his lips. She eased his cock out into the open air. “No one’s here to see us.”

  Esme discovered something oddly empowering about having her hand around Luke on her own terms, her fingers wrapped around the silken and smooth heat of him. She explored at first, her grasp loose, fingers wandering and trailing up and down, tracing the vein that pulsed his need. He arose so hard so fast in her hand, it seemed almost magical.

  “Esme, you’re killing me, girl.”

  “Should I stop?”

  “No!” He jerked beneath her touch and clutched the armrests.

  “Then shut up and enjoy before we’re caught.”

  A glistening droplet beaded against the slit in his smooth cockhead. She smeared it with her thumb and smoothed it over his soft skin. Luke groaned softly and tipped his head back against the seat. His hips shifted, lifting slightly so he pumped into her hand. Esme firmed up her grip and stroked his full length down then up again.

  His breath quickened, and then the rhythm of his hips became frenetic. Desperate. He groaned her name again, prompting her to lean forward and smother his pleasure with another kiss, muffling him.

  “You’re going to get us in trouble,” he mumbled.

  She chuckled and nipped his lower lip.

  Her pumps quickened, skin sliding against skin. Luke trembled beneath her, every muscle in his body taut. When he came—and it was going to be soon—it would be all over his jeans or the back of the seat in front of them. She didn’t want that, which left only one option. One daring, ballsy option. Esme tucked her hair behind her ear and ducked down, capturing him between her lips.

  Luke practically came undone, one of his hands white-knuckled over the seats, the other tangled in her hair. He pumped twice, lasting mere seconds after she put her mouth on him.

  It wasn’t as bad as she expected, the salty sweet taste of him forced down in a swallow. Then she leaned back and tenderly tucked his cock inside his jeans then zipped him. He was spent in every definition of the word, slumped in the seat with his head back, looking like he’d been hit with a dose of a strong narcotic instead of fellated in a movie theater.

  “Whoa.” It came from him about five minutes later. She wished she’d timed it.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah… I’m good. Just wanted to lay here and savor it for a few.”

  “You’re not gonna sleep through the movie, are you?” The lights had dimmed, and the first trailer was up on the screen. The theater doors opened and light from the corridor cast the shadows of three people before they came into view and took their seats in the middle.

  “Nah. Trust me. I’m wide awake.”

  “Good.” She snuggled into his side when he didn’t shy away from kissing her afterward and felt even happier when his arm slid around her waist.

  Luke held her throughout the movie, occasionally turning his head to kiss her brow, skimming his fingers beneath the edge of her sweater. She’d never seen him so relaxed. So still.

  One date with Beau wouldn’t hurt. Once she had the rugged biker out of her system, Luke would receive the attention he deserved.

  More flowers arrived from Luke Monday morning. Daffodils this time, with a few red rosebuds included.

  Marie squinted at it. “Is this seriously a blow job bouquet? I have never gotten flowers after giving head.”

  “It wasn’t a full blow job,” Esme muttered, shrugging into her coat. She had a morning and afternoon shift at Memory Lane before plans to meet Beau at the Krumkake, a Norwegian-inspired restaurant popular among the tourists.

  “He must really wanna make sure you come back to him after your date with Beau. Or is it Alexander you’re having dinner with later? I can’t keep up with your multiple admirers anymore.”

  “Alex isn’t an admirer. I had dinner with him Saturday to discuss an additional monetary donation, remember? Then he invited me over to see his work Friday afternoon. That’s all.”

  “Uh-huh. The rich recluse who doesn’t see anybody invited you to his private house no one else has ever seen. If he’s not aiming to get you in bed, then I’ll eat my shirt.”

  “Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Whatever. How do you even keep track?”

  Esme winked. “The Amazon Echo did a great job of reminding me this morning with my alarm.” She wound a scarf around her neck then stepped into her fur-lined snow boots. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Bring leftovers.”

  “If there are any.”

  The last thing she heard as she stepped outside was Marie muttering about what a lucky heifer she was. Not that Esme could disagree. Her private and professional lives had finally flourished, with two men pursuing her on a personal level, and a wealthy billionaire intrigued by her artistic eye.

  Eight hours of relative peace gave her a chance to catch up on a book behind the store counter. She humored the occasional tourist and showed a few regulars around but ultimately spent most of her time devouring a romance novel.

  By the time Esme locked up, darkness had fallen, the moon a pale silver crescent in the sky. The street lamps were all aglow, and Christmas-themed ornaments glittered from every corner and every intersection. Light strands shone from building storefronts, wound around light poles, and decorated trees. There were ribbons and tinsel dangling from signs, and festive snowmen with carrot noses.

  A few Christmas ornaments to the left flickered. One by one, the pieces of the Nativity to her right-hand side, lovingly situated on the front lawn of an apartment, dimmed and went dark.

  Esme tested the soles of her new snow boots, confident enough with the traction to pick up her speed and dash down the next corner. The restaurant wasn’t far, only another two blocks.

  A strand of twinkling lights in green and red went out, as did the lights inside the souvenir storefront that always kept its Christmas decor lit throughout the night. The lights all popped and sizzled, crackling until a wave of darkness swallowed the area and only the faint hint of white moon above her remained.

  She wondered if it was a citywide blackout until she realized, in the great distance, she saw there were lights at the school over a mile away. She veered off her path and cut across the road, only for the darkness, the persistent and stubborn darkness, to overtake her and dim the entire block.

  Her heart lurched, and that terrifying sense of doom returned—the dismay of seeing a cop in the rearview mirror with his sirens screaming, the terror of seeing your beloved dog charging toward a busy intersection, and the absolute pants-shitting terror she imagined her parents must have felt when she climbed onto the bathroom sink as a child, fell, and cracked her head on the toilet.

  Pins and needles spread through her fingertips. Somehow, she fumbled her phone from her purse, only to encounter no service.

  Breath quickening, she shoved her hand back into the pocket and palmed the stun gun her anxious father had given her the day she moved to Ashfall on her own. While he was a peaceful man, he was willing to set aside that nature when it came to her.

  An impossible thing emerged from the shadows, barely visible against the gray slush and trampled snow. It was all mottled black and brown with disfiguring scars twisting against its furry hi
de, as large as a Great Dane, but… there were two snarling mouths dripping thick saliva. It smelled like sulfur and smoke—living nightmare fuel.

  Not real. It’s not real. This isn’t real.

  It padded closer, a low and menacing growl rumbling from its barrel chest, hot spittle dripping to the snow and sending up curls of steam. At this distance, she saw its tail looked more like a snake than anything else, thick and scaled.

  Not real. It can’t be real. This isn’t real.

  Esme stood her ground and decided to wait for the nightmare to end. In a moment, it would collide with her. Then she’d awaken at the shop counter, or perhaps at home in her bed, heart pounding but otherwise prepared to embrace a day at work and delicious dinner with Beau.

  It lunged and snarled, washing hot, fetid breath over her before she spun on her heel and dashed toward the street because she lacked the willpower to put her theory to the test.

  A blur shot by her peripheral vision. A split second later, the dog yelped and trash cans toppled over behind her. Esme continued running and darted to the right through the empty, rear parking lot of a charcuterie known for its smoked meats and exotic cheeses. The employees were gone. They closed early on weekends.

  Shit. Although she didn’t hear the sound of the mutant dog pursuing her, she lunged toward the opening of the narrow alley.

  Hard, rough fingers closed around her right wrist, restraining her.

  “Esme.”

  Despite years of laughing and doubting it would ever be used, let alone recalled, everything she’d ever learned during a few self-defense classes with her mother boiled to the surface. Panic and intuition thrust the stun gun forward, striking somewhere in her attacker’s thigh. She hit him again with it, the crackling noise startling her as much as his cry. He staggered and wobbled on one leg. That split second was enough time for her to lead in with her knee to his groin.

  When it connected, the large man dropped to his knees, although he was so tall, so enormous, he was still almost eye level with her, down on the dirty snow with both hands cupping his balls and bellowing in pain.

  She leaned to dash past him when his hood slid back, tumbling away from a familiar scarred face.

  “Alex?” she cried. No wonder her attacker hadn’t lifted a finger to stop her.

  He grunted. “That hurt more than it should have.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Her gaze darted toward the mouth of the alley where she’d last seen the thing. It had run on four legs but hadn’t resembled any dog she ever saw.

  “Protecting you. Or trying to.”

  Beau skidded into the alley, gripping a short sword in his hand with a bright tongue of flame blazing over the edge. Esme jerked back and slammed against the brick wall of the building behind her.

  “Is she hurt?” Luke demanded, suddenly present to her left, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, Esme? Did that thing hurt you?” He guided her toward the corner where two buildings connected. Three short stairs led up to an alcove and the back door of another closed tourist attraction.

  “Breathe, baby,” he coaxed as he helped her sit down on the step. “How’s it coming over there?”

  “Shut up and keep her safe,” Beau snapped.

  A snarl preceded the creature’s return. A dark shape blurred through the alley and pounced on Alex. Growls and snapping teeth echoed against the alley walls, and strange, terrifying shadows crossed Esme’s vision. Golden red light shifted and flickered, and it took a moment for Esme’s mind to connect it to the sword—the impossible flaming sword.

  “Just keep looking at me, baby,” Luke said. By crouching in front of her, he blocked her view of what was happening. Maybe that was for the best.

  A sharp crack accompanied by a pained whimper filled the air, followed by silence. The burned stench reached Esme’s nose, like blackened meat, and nausea shredded her stomach. One by one, the lights came on again.

  Beau stepped into view without his sword. “All right. It’s done. How is she?”

  “In shock I think. Where’s Heph?”

  “He felt someone disturb the veil and went to check it out.”

  “We need to get Esme home. Persephone’s hounds tend to hunt in pairs, if not packs.”

  No one provided answers. Only discussed her. A visceral blend of terror and fury welled inside her and burst out at once. “Someone tell me what the hell is happening.”

  Luke sighed. “All right, but I’m gonna get you inside first. You’re freezing, and I only live around the block from here.”

  “I—”

  “No. No arguing this.” He scooped her up into his arms and then… then it was as if she were in a windstorm. Her hair whipped around her face, and suddenly she was out of the cold and inside a warm room. Luke set her down on his couch and drew a blanket down around her.

  “What? How?”

  “I’m fast. It wasn’t just a brag.”

  “But we were… we were blocks away.”

  “It’s hard to explain, and we should wait for the others. Lemme get you a drink or something to warm you up.”

  “I don’t want a stupid drink. I want answers.”

  “They’re coming, I swear.” He pushed a glass into her hand and stepped out of her sight again. Esme dropped her gaze to the golden liquid inside and then tossed back the drink in one gulp. The whiskey burned down her throat and warmed her all the way to her toes.

  Luke returned to drape another fleece blanket over her lap. Then he ducked down beside the couch and plugged in the cord.

  Esme stared at it. “This is just like the one in my room at home.” The similarity wouldn’t have bothered her if not for the hint of dried red nail polish on the edge. She’d spilled some on her own electric blanket three nights ago. “It is the one from my room at home.”

  “Yeah…”

  “All right, I don’t give a damn if the others are here or not, I want to know what’s happening, and I want it—”

  The door opened. Beau and Alex stepped through, though the latter had to duck to fit. All three of the men in her life, all in one place.

  Life had to be pulling one cosmic joke over on her.

  Beau spoke up first. “I know how this must look.”

  “Really? How does it look, because right now it looks like I’m going fucking crazy because a weird creature chased me down the streets and now the two guys I’m dating are here with… with…” She gestured toward Alex, unable to put a title to what he was to her, though something in stomach did an anxious flip whenever the scarred man came into view. “Am I going insane? What’s going on here? Why are you three together? What was that thing in the alley?”

  Beau rubbed his face with one hand. “I didn’t lie about being here to see my brother. Alex is my younger half-brother. And the thing in the alley—”

  “It was a hellhound,” Luke said. When the other two stared at him, he threw up his hands. “What? Better to rip it off like a Band-Aid at this point, man.”

  She was trapped in an apartment with three crazy men. Three absolutely crazy men who would probably throw her into a car trunk and drive away with her, if they didn’t dice her to pieces right now.

  His sword couldn’t have really been on fire. It had been a trick of the light, or maybe a child’s battery-operated toy with clever LEDs. Her brain rushed to explain what she had seen. Her attacker could have been a rabid dog or even a black bear with a skin disease.

  Esme forced a few even breaths through her lungs. “Why are you three here? If you two are brothers, why is he here?”

  “Hermes is a friend,” Alex said in his deep, rumbling voice.

  “His name is Luke.”

  “Actually, my name is Hermes. Luke is just the name on my legal stuff this time around…”

  “Like the god?”

  “Yeah. Just like the god. And his name is Ares.”

  Alexander nodded, concern setting deep creases across his rugged face. “And my name is Hephaestus. We are gods
, as are you.”

  Cold swept over her. Her eyes searched their faces. In the time since they had started dating, she’d noticed Luke was the playful one. A jokester who was always up for making her laugh. She’d seen him maintain a straight face before when making mischief.

  Then why was her heart still slamming in her chest, pounding against her ribs with the ferocity of a bass drum?

  If Alex had his choice, they would have broken the news to her in a gentler way. The plan had been to take it slow or get her to remember on her own.

  Finding her had been the easy part. Breaking the news of what she was and convincing her they weren’t three lunatics was where the plan fell apart and became a complicated mess.

  Beau sighed. “Do we have any damned reason to lie to you? You’ve known us for how long? Wait, don’t answer that.”

  “A month. Barely that. For all I know, you weirdos are on some kind of drug. Maybe I’ve been drugged and that’s why I saw things.”

  Luke snorted. “I mean, if you need visual proof, that’ll work too. We can let this play out like one of those superhero movies instead and each demonstrate our gifts until you believe us.”

  “Demonstrate them then. Prove it,” she challenged.

  He shrugged. “You want some coffee, babe?”

  “Coffee? What the hell kind of random question is that?”

  “Just humor me.” Luke’s grin widened. “You still like those caramel ones, right?”

  Alex shifted his weight from foot to foot and watched the way Esme stared at Luke. Everything hinged on this moment, and as much as he hated to admit it, Luke’s powers were the least likely to send her running in terror. She finally nodded and then Luke was gone, moving so swift even Alex had a hard time tracking his movements.

  “Where did he…? He… he just vanished.”

  “He does that sometimes,” Beau said, amused.

  When Hermes reappeared, he had a frothy caramel-laced coffee, the name Annette scribbled across the cup in black marker. He must have taken it right out of the barista’s hand.