Divine Ambrosia

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Divine Ambrosia Page 11

by Vivienne Savage


  “What?”

  “Yeah. My feeling exactly. And you know how Luke told me he transferred to help out a family friend who lives all alone?”

  “They all know each other? No way! With those kind of odds, you should either stop dating or go play the lotto. Nobody has that kind of luck.”

  “I do.” Esme sighed. Though it had nothing to do with luck if they could be believed about her being a goddess in a mortal body. “Anyway, long story short, they’re all trying to be really nice about it and no one is angry. Nobody demanded for me to pick one of them. Luke kind of implied I could be with all of them, and it creeped me out.”

  “Seriously? Ew. Or… I dunno, kinda hot. But ew. Brothers?”

  “Yeah, I can hardly believe it myself.”

  “So, wait, Alex is the younger brother? Damn.” Marie whistled. “Life has not been kind to him. Or does Beau just look really good for his age?”

  Yeah, I guess that happens when your mother throws you off a mountain. “Beau looks really good for his age. A mix of both I guess.”

  She made herself get up and into the shower. After she finished dressing and putting on her makeup, Marie rushed her outside to Jordan’s car.

  “Hey, girl, looking good today.” Jordan smiled at her through the rearview mirror. “You got your eyeliner on nice. So where am I taking you?”

  Esme entered their destination into Jordan’s GPS, and their adventure to the outskirts of town began. Ten minutes into the ride, Marie shot her a sly look from the front seat.

  “Hey, Jordan, guess what?”

  “Marie, no—”

  “Those three guys into Esme? They all know each other and two of them are brothers.”

  “Lucky bitch.”

  Esme groaned and kicked the back of Marie’s seat. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s all just too weird.”

  “What’s weird?” Jordan asked.

  “No one is jealous.”

  “So?”

  “It was hard enough dating two guys, and I really wanna do more than date. Any time Luke or Beau are around, it’s hard not to rip off their clothes.”

  “And Alex?” Marie asked.

  “He’s… like a big teddy bear. I don’t know. I’ve only met him twice. He was sweet at the charity event, and… dinner alone with him was nice, but that was to discuss another donation for the hospital.”

  “Yet you spent Sunday morning texting him until your date with Luke, and you’re going over to his house.”

  Esme scowled. “To see art.”

  “Uh-huh.” Marie snickered and smiled over her shoulder.

  “Um, are we going to ignore that two of them aren’t related?” Jordan asked, turning onto the road that led to Alex’s billionaire mountainside retreat. “If you don’t end up in some kind of sexy man sandwich, I will never forgive you for leaving that opportunity at the door. I will etch that shit on your gravestone. ‘Could have had two hot friends DP her but was a prude.’”

  Marie stared at him, mouth open. “Jordan.”

  “What? It’s true. Luke and sexy-ass Beau look like the type who won’t care if their balls touch.”

  Plows had recently blown through the area, piling fresh snow along the sides of the road. When they reached the gates—both of which were wrought iron sculpted into two big dragons—Jordan lowered his window and pressed the intercom button.

  “May I help you?” the fancy British butler asked.

  “Esme Caro is here to see Mr. Smith.”

  “Please bring her to the end of the driveway.” The gates opened.

  Jordan drove her down a quarter mile of smooth, dry concrete. There hadn’t been any snow on the gate either. He parked at the end and peered out at the house. “Have fun.”

  “It’s not that kind of meeting.”

  He winked at her. “Make it one.”

  Marie and Jordan waved goodbye before embarking on their journey to the road again, leaving her at the foot of a dozen stairs leading up to a literal mansion carved into a mountain.

  “Now or never.”

  Her discussion with Luke flooded back, because Alex’s place was something out of a Cribs episode, all glass and metal, and secluded several miles out of town without another road in sight. If he turned out to be a psycho after all, she was fucked.

  After the catastrophic meeting in Luke’s apartment, Alex had returned to his home and work, taking comfort in forging metal into beautiful shapes.

  He had a few pieces ready to drop off in town at various shops and was contemplating sending Augustus to deliver them when the truck showed up at the gates. He eyed it and its occupants through the security camera poised above the console.

  Augustus’s voice cut through the intercom. “Master Hephaestus, a visitor—”

  “I saw through the security cam,” he said. “Send them through. I’ll greet her myself.”

  “As you wish.”

  He stopped his work and met Esme at the door, pulling it open a split second before her finger pressed the buzzer. “Good afternoon, Esme.”

  “Hey, I, uh, hope you don’t mind me stopping by. I’m sorry for standing you up last night.”

  “I understand. You don’t have to apologize.” He moved aside when he realized he was staring at her. He cleared his throat. “Please come in.”

  The others had been right after all. He’d expected her to choose one of the handsome two. Luke would have been his bet, since she seemed to prefer his attention the most.

  He took her coat then led the way to the living room, aware of Esme’s curious gaze touching everything they passed. He’d never given much thought to his home beyond its security and his personal comfort. Now he found himself wondering if she liked it, yearning for her approval.

  “Have a seat anywhere you like. Can I get you something? Tea or coffee?”

  “No thank you.” She settled on the end of the sectional and brushed her hand over the leather armrest. How did she see her surroundings through her mortal eyes when his home was a dull museum occupied by a single man?

  Alexander cleared his throat. He didn’t know how to entertain a guest, unaccustomed to receiving any visitors who weren’t there for business matters. A few awkward seconds passed before he settled opposite her and laced both hands together between his knees. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure if I’d want to see any of you again, but…” She took in a deep breath and let it out in a rush, words tumbling from her too fast. “I’ve been having weird dreams, okay? And they started before I met you, so now everything in my head is a mess, and I just want answers.”

  He listened with his head cocked. “Dreams about what?”

  “I dunno. Things. It’s stupid,” she mumbled.

  “If they bother you, they aren’t stupid,” he said, calm as ever.

  “Aphrodite was a horrible goddess,” she blurted out instead. “She cheated and she slept with, like, everyone, and she was childish sometimes. Cruel even. I mean, she played around with people’s hearts for fun. That’s not who I am.”

  He startled, flinching as if she’d struck him instead. “What? No. Never. She was—you were never an awful goddess.” It spilled out of him in a fierce rush. “You were always a good woman, kind to your followers and all who loved you. And there were many who were jealous of that love, and they told lies once you were gone.”

  “That’s a lot of lies to have lasted this many centuries, don’t you think? Didn’t she start that whole Trojan war thing by helping Paris seduce another man’s wife? That doesn’t sound very nice at all.”

  “Ah.” He chuckled. “If the wife truly didn’t want to leave her husband, she would have remained. Aphrodite could influence our hearts and show us our innermost desires, sometimes forcing us to act upon them. The stories say nothing of Helen’s unhappiness with King Menelaus.” He spread both of his hands, and then he sighed before dropping them down to his lap.

  “Her meddling caused a war.”

&nb
sp; “It was a simple mistake any god could have made. Unfortunately, when we err, hundreds, if not thousands, of mortals are injured in the process. And therein lies the reason we have withdrawn from the world. We grant a desire and there are ripples, a thousand ripples few of us can foresee the inevitable outcome of.”

  “Let’s say I believe you about you three being gods, at least. Why? How could anyone give up that much power? I mean… I’d think Beau would be out there in the Middle East, North Africa, or Korea, or even somewhere down in South America reveling in the bloodshed.”

  When he looked at Esme, he could see hints of the goddess she’d once been, mostly in the fullness of her lips and the curve of her high cheekbones. Some of those features had survived the centuries of her life as a human, reborn again and again no matter where reincarnation took her.

  “Yeah. About that. It goes back to what I said about making things worse. You see, as much as he revels in war, he doesn’t enjoy endless war. There needs to be a time of peace. Imagine you had a chocolate cheesecake, and I told you to eat it right now. Then I set another in front of you, and every time you ate that cake, I produced another. No break in between to savor and enjoy what you’ve been given.”

  “Okay, that bit makes sense I suppose. Still, it seems hard to believe you’d give up people worshipping you and tending to your every need. And what about the others? Is Zeus out there? Athena?” She paused a moment, then added in a softer voice, leaning forward with wide eyes. “Hades?”

  “You gave up more.” His shoulders dropped a little further, and the natural curve returned to his spine. It ached after a while of attempting to appear normal. “Most of us merely discovered there’s more to life than living for the worship of the humans. We also realized they’re good at screwing up their own lives without our help. Why complicate things more? Athena owns a well-known publishing company in New York. Zeus founded an airline. We each found things we love more than meddling in human affairs. Even Hades.”

  “Wait, hold up a sec. You’re saying Zeus, god of lightning and all-powerful ruler of the gods, is just some suit in charge of an airline? And to think I’ve been stuck flying coach all these years. Damn.”

  Hephaestus chuckled. “You always preferred catching a ride with Helios in his chariot, but yes, you’ve missed out on a fair bit.”

  “You were the god of blacksmiths, right? And, um, volcanoes. So when Mount St. Helens blew, was that you? I mean, did you actively decide one day to set it off or did Ares piss you off and you lost your temper. ’Cause he does that a lot in the old stories.”

  “We’re not to blame for every disturbance, Esme. Though I’m sure some of us would like to take credit for every disaster, I’m not responsible for that one. I could, if I wanted, but I prefer to prevent them from blowing these days. Yellowstone requires a lot of my attention.” Then he rubbed his nape and looked away. “And yeah, he does. Claims it’s brotherly love.”

  “And you were Aphrodite’s husband, right? She was sort of given to you. So, if I’m Aphrodite—and I’m not saying I believe it yet—where does that put us?”

  “Yes. Once, you were mine.” Hephaestus glanced away, avoiding her eye contact for that moment. “You were wronged, and we failed to make it right then. So now I put the ball in your court, as the humans put it.”

  “What happened? You guys may be incognito, but you have your powers. What would make a goddess give hers up to become me? I’m nothing special. I’m plain and I’m dull. I’m not rich.”

  “We were fools and fought over you as we always have,” he answered in a quiet, rough voice, dipping his head down. After a moment, he exhaled the deep, pent-up breath. “I believed I knew what was best for you. The more we tried to control you, the harder you fought, until finally, you broke away and did what no other god has ever done, renouncing your gift.”

  “Aphrodite was a cheater. If she was married to you, she shouldn’t have needed other men, right? There should have been no fighting over her.” She sighed and leaned back on the sofa, frowning. “Why do you even want me back?”

  Alex leaned forward and reached across the distance between them to place his hand over her knee. It sent warmth coursing through her and a strange, familiar sense of comfort, like sitting with an old friend.

  “I don’t blame you. It never would have happened if Zeus didn’t offer you as a bargaining chip to whoever could convince me to free Hera from the trap I laid for her. But once we were wed, Aphrodite made the best she could of an awful situation. Each time I drove her away to Ares, I didn’t want to admit I was to blame.” His frown deepened, and his brown eyes grew sadder by the moment.

  “Where does Hermes come into this?”

  “You and he were lovers before you fell for Ares. When the war god stole you away with promises of battle and excitement, sonnets and poetry were no longer enough for you, and you wanted much more.”

  Esme dragged in a deep breath. “I still think you’re all nuts,” she muttered, but with less heat and conviction than before. She laid her hand over his much larger one and squeezed. “Tell me more about you. I don’t want to hear about Aphrodite anymore. Not yet. Why do you stay up here in this huge house all by yourself?”

  “Where else am I to go? It’s private, and I have the space I need to work. It seemed like the ideal place to live.”

  Alex never seemed to meet her gaze, and when he did, it didn’t hold for long. It seemed more than shyness. Had she done that to him or was it something else?

  “You still do artwork in metal. Guess old habits die hard, huh?” She’d seen his work in shops all over town. Beautiful precision stopwatches, iron sculptures, one of a kind fire pits with fascinating designs. The resort had a large one in their courtyard that looked like a burning sun.

  “Smithing and artwork are what I do best, my only true talents, and I suppose… my only other love. What else could I do?” He glanced over one shoulder toward the rear of the room at a pair of double doors. “Would you like to see my forge?” he asked suddenly.

  “I’d love to. I wasn’t lying to get your donation when I said I admired your work.”

  He offered her an arm and escorted her through the doors and into a wide corridor decorated with lavish art from around the world. Soon, they were outside on a snowless veranda. In the distance, there was another building, revealing his estate was more of a mountainside compound than anything else.

  “Do you have any of my pieces?”

  “Me? Oh, no. We don’t have anything fancy like that in our place.”

  His face fell, and he glanced at her sidelong from beneath his heavy brows. He had one of those faces that looked stern even when she thought he wanted to appear happy.

  “How big is this place? I had no idea it extended so far back. From the road, this all looks like forest and rock.”

  “A bit of magic blends the rest of the grounds into the forest. You can’t have airplanes and busybodies noticing anything is amiss. I don’t like the snow, so Augustus casts spells to keep it cleared from the paths.”

  “Spells.”

  “Yes. Magic.”

  As they reached the end of the stepping stone path, he moved toward the outbuilding and pressed his palm against the door. When it slid open, she saw it was an enormous stone slab. If it was solid stone, it should have taken at least six men, maybe even eight or ten to budge it.

  A great wave of heat rolled over her from the huge glowing fire inside. From outside, the building couldn’t be much taller than him, but inside, it was easily twenty feet high and three times as long, a circular chamber with rows of tools in a variety of sizes, some that seemed to belong in a giant’s hands. The anvil stood taller than her.

  “Holy crap,” she whispered in awe. Once she realized she wouldn’t burn to a crisp, and that it was nice and toasty compared to the frigid air outside, she followed him inside and gazed around in wonder. “How do you even lift some of these things? They’re huge!”

  “With my hands. This is muc
h like the forge I once worked in Olympus. A little cramped at times, but good enough.”

  “Cramped. Right.” Within a matter of seconds, her hair clung to her cheeks. She didn’t see a single welding tool or blowtorch in sight. “So how do you weld things together? And please don’t tell me your pinky is a flamethrower or something. Then again, that might be sort of cool. Scary, but cool.”

  He stared at her initially before glancing down at his hands. He snorted. “No. The blowtorch is a modern convenience. I use a stone from the sun, gifted to me by Helios.”

  “Yeah. Okay. A sun stone. Sure, nothing at all crazy weird about that.”

  “He and I are good friends, and he’s always had a great appreciation for my work. I created his chariot, after all. Prior to that, he flew across the skies by pegasus.”

  “By pegasus,” Esme repeated, staring at him.

  “They are winged—”

  “Winged horses. Yes, I know. Sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed here. Helios is the one who told you Aphrodite was sleeping with Ares, right?”

  “Correct. As god of the sun, he sees all and is privy to many things.”

  “There must be a lot of blackmailing going on in Olympus.”

  Alex shook his head. “Ah, to the contrary, he is a good man of great honor. What needs to be kept in secrecy is kept close to his heart. The same cannot be said for Luke, as he told you right away Helios was behind the discovery, and it led to a great rift between many of us.” He paused with a grimace on his face. “Forgive me, that was worded poorly. Hermes is also a good man, though he stumbles from time to time, as do I.”

  Esme pulled her sweater off and tossed it onto an empty bench, leaving her camisole on. He had a bench lined with some of his smaller pieces—beautiful sculptures made from brass, iron, copper, and metals she couldn’t identify. When she touched sundial and traced her finger along the polished surface, rainbow patterns shimmered beneath the surface of the white metal.

 

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