Tyranny: Goddesses of Delphi

by Gemma Brocato

  “I looked it up,” she deflected.

  A shock of his black hair flopped into his eyes as he shook his head. “Hmm, no you didn’t. Computers are down, remember?” He scratched the backs of his fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. The resulting noise was…pleasing.

  Busted. Dammit, why hadn’t she faked she had to look it up? The easy answer was she was too distracted by the immediate attraction she felt for this absolute stranger. Too distracted by the appealing professor to hide the fact she’d chronicled many senseless atrocities over the millennia.

  She bit her lip and cast her eyes down. How did she tell someone she’d just met she possessed the special, mystical powers that came with being a Muse? She didn’t. Her secret had been safe from mortals for thousands of years.

  She debated lying and telling him she’d been a history major. Nah, he’d never buy that story. Her online credentials, which anyone could access, showed her as a Master of Library Science. The urge to confide her secret to this man whipped around her belly like a dog chasing its tail. The idea took her by surprise. In all her lifetimes, she’d never wanted to reveal her role as a Muse to a single mortal.

  Grasping the wireless mouse, she concentrated on the computer screen. It would be much easier to lie if she didn’t look at him. She reached out with her gift and nudged him to leave it alone. “I have a photographic memory. I must have seen it in some book and remembered.” The lie tasted sour on her tongue. “Ah, here you are. Professor Callahan. Oh, wow! You have full research and facility privileges.”

  “No one can remember details like that. It’s not possible.”

  Wait a minute. How could he resist her subtle mental push? Maybe he required a slightly stronger nudge to redirect his train of thought. “Your credentials really are impressive.”

  His eyes turned cloudy and confused, and his brows needled together. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Why impressive?”

  Clio eased out a relieved breath. On the second try, she’d been able to distract him from her spewage of facts that would have required extensive research from most mortals, the sexy professor included. But it shouldn’t have taken two tries. Normally, a single nudge was sufficient. She’d never felt the need to bash a mortal over the head with suggestion. Some of her sisters had, but she’d been happy to offer quiet influence. A niggle of concern rose, but she squelched it before it could bloom into doubt.

  She jerked the mouse to an on-screen option and clicked to the bit of his personnel file she was allowed to check. “Full access is something typically reserved for department heads and deans. I don’t see either of those positions on your account.” How in the hell did he score this little perk? Facility access meant he could be in the library after hours with only a security guard in attendance. Only she and a handful of other people had that privilege.

  The light surrounding Jax faded. Oppressive gloom reclaimed the interior of the library. Thunder boomed again, startling Clio into a tiny jump. The noise and his unexpected access raised her suspicions along with the hair on the back of her neck. Something was wrong.

  Her cell phone rang quietly with the tones of a calliope. The ring tone she’d set for her sister Callie. The tinny, hollow music sealed her premonition that something was out of sorts in the universe.

  She held up one finger, signaling Jax to sit tight, and grabbed her phone. She tapped the Answer button. “Callie, I can’t talk now.”

  “Then just listen. We have trouble. Meeting tonight at The Rowan Tree. Eight sharp. Do not be late this time or history will be repeating itself.”

  Damn her perfectionist sister. Clio had been late once—one single time—and Calliope had never let her live it down. It really wasn’t Clio’s fault she’d lost track of time while recording history. She’d been doing her job. To make up for her tardiness, she’d bent over backward and gave into her sister’s demands for help on some research. That had been twenty hours of life Clio would never get back.

  God, it sucked to be a pleaser. She told Callie, “I’ll be there. Gotta run.” She disconnected, mentally flipped off her overbearing sister, and faced Jax again.

  He watched her with a degree of fascination she’d never witnessed in this lifetime. Or any other. A sexy gleam danced in his eyes. “So, my privileges…”

  “Right.” She groped in the hanging file under the desk. As she drew out the info sheet he needed, she smacked the back of her hand on the hard marble underside of the counter. Shaking off the sting, she slid the list of privileges and his ID badge across the surface toward him.

  He grasped her hand and stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “You seem destined for injury today.”

  Oh, goddess, the motion of his thumb invoked crazy, sexy thoughts. Focus, Clio.

  She ignored the erotic sensation and pulled her hand from his. She tapped the paper. “This will tell you everything you need to know. Your employee number is your after-hours access code. Just key it in to the PIN pad next to the front entrance. Once you’re through the entry protocol, the security officer on duty will scan your badge for admittance to the library.”

  “Regardless of what time?”

  “Yep. Your access is coded for twenty-four-seven.”

  “And what hours might I find you here?”

  His smile carved dimples into his cheeks like an ancient sculptor who had etched lines into a block of marble. Pleasure fluttered to life in her belly. He was flirting. Her finger twitched with the need to trace the lines around his mouth. “I’m here during normal business hours.”

  Jax leaned over the counter and lowered his voice. “What if I need a research assistant? You know your history. Are you available after hours?”

  Was he asking her on a date? Or was she just wishful thinking? She tipped her head to the side, as if she’d be able to see into his head from that angle. “I’m always happy to help.”

  He flicked his rich brown eyes to her lips, then back up. “I’ll remember that.” He straightened and dragged the strap of his bag back up his shoulder. Once it was situated, he pocketed his ID. The motion caused his damp shirt to stretch against his broad chest. He folded the guide sheet she’d given him into thirds, thirds again, and then slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans. He sauntered away from her with one last grinning glance over his shoulder. God, his smile was killer.

  Chapter 2

  In the four hours that had elapsed since he’d met her, Jax Callahan hadn’t been able to get Clio Thanos from his mind. After his visit to the DCU library, he’d stopped at the student union for a bite to eat. Leaning his back against the brick wall of the dining room, he mused about how silky her skin had felt under his fingertips when he kept her from falling. How his dick had twitched to life when he’d steadied her against his chest. On a heat scale of cold-as-ice to fucking-incendiary, his last affair had been only tepid. Mere casual contact with Clio’s body far exceeded what he’d had with a woman whose face he barely remembered. To be fair, he doubted that woman remembered him either. He’d been in the midst of a career meltdown at the time. Not a shining moment in his past.

  Thoughts of the alluring redhead he’d just met continued to dominate once he returned to the office. Littered with boxes of his possessions, things he’d been unpacking for days, the tiny space was snug and tight, just the way he envisioned Clio might feel around his cock. As blood rushed to his groin, jeans that had fit just fine this morning were suddenly too damn tight.

  Hoping to gain control of his unruly body, he burst from the rickety office chair, banging his knee on an open drawer. Son of a bitch! At least pain was an effective boner killer.

  With a disgusted snort, he opened the box sitting atop his desk. Right at the top was the candle his mom had given him to help “spruce up” his new office. She was a big fan of things that smelled good. Prying off the lid, the cinnamon aroma wafted in his face. An instant flashback took him to the precious moments he’d stood across the counter from Clio. She smelled of cinnamon and ci
trus. The warm, homey scent reminded him of presents and Christmas.

  He’d like to unwrap her, starting with the silky gold blouse with the pearl buttons and making his way to the sleek black skirt. But he’d leave the high-heeled sandals on her feet. Her toenails had been painted cherry-red, and a sexy little toe ring had winked in the glow cast by the chandelier in the entry foyer of the library.

  Holding the candle to his nose, he shut his eyes and imagined the color and style of her undergarments. He pictured her in lace and satin, in the same shade as on her toes. Or electric blue like her eyes. He let his imagination wander to stripping the scraps of fabric off her lithe body and laying her on a plush bed. Would she taste like cinnamon when he went down on her? The pain in his knee forgotten, his shaft thickened and lengthened as he imagined her juicy, ruby-colored slit. Inhaling the cinnamon scent of the candle again, his ball sack tightened.

  Loud thumps sounded on his office door a second before it swung open. “Hey, Jax. What’s up?”

  He slammed the candle down on the desk. Thank God, he stood behind a stack of boxes.

  Ian Sommers stepped into the cramped space, a broad smile on his square face. He whistled as he scanned Jax’s new digs. “Dude, they found the smallest office on campus for you.”

  Ian had been a friend since grad school, although he’d majored in science, not history. The man worked for a large pharmaceutical company based in Delphi. His old friend’s presence in town had been the deciding factor in accepting the teaching position with the university instead of staying with his former employer, a prestigious Washington think tank. Burned out on the prospects for the future of civilization, his decision had been easy.

  Jax eased his weight onto one hip and, behind the cover of the box, adjusted his hard-on to a more comfortable spot. “Hey, Ian. Just getting settled in. You slumming today?”

  Ian threw himself into the low-backed leather chair across the desk. He dangled his hands over the padded armrests. “I had some vacation days coming, and there isn’t much going on with my research project this week. We’re between phases. My research assistant can handle the miniscule amount of work necessary. I took the afternoon off to see if I could get you on the courts for a game of tennis. Too bad the weather isn’t cooperating. Want to go get a brew and watch the ball game instead?”

  Jax gazed out the grimy window. Gray clouds scuttled across the sky, but at least it had quit raining. Weak light glared off the scattered puddles dotting the street. “Tempting, but I can’t today. I really need to get settled in here.” He rested his hands on his hips and shifted his focus to the cluttered room.

  Ian tipped his head back and laughed. He combed his fingers through his shaggy blond hair, pushing it back from his face. “Yeah, your words say I’m a worker bee, but your expression says crap-I’d-kill-for-a-beer.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Classes don’t start for another month.” Ian’s voice took on a familiar wheedling tone. “Come on. Play hooky with me, just like the old days when we blew off classes to race jet skis on the reservoir.”

  Jax’s resolve crumbled. “Those were the days, weren’t they? Sun and wind and sweet young co-eds to keep us company.” His tastes ran more refined now—candles, a comfortable mattress, and a certain redhead came to mind. He closed the lid of the box in front of him. “You’re right. This can wait. My gaming system is operational. Wanna grab some take-out and play World of Warcraft?”

  “Hell to the yeah!”

  Jax tossed the eighteen-speed bike he’d ridden to work this morning into the back of Ian’s ancient green Land Rover for the fast trip back to his house. He settled in the passenger seat, fondly recalling Ian’s excitement over finding the truck and the hours they’d spent restoring it. He drew a fingertip across a scar on the back of his hand. He’d sliced it open trying to help re-install the rehabbed engine. The pain had been worth it. The speedometer only went as high as seventy, but Ian had pegged it more than once.

  On the way home, they hit up the drive-through at a clog-your-arteries fast food place for burgers and seasoned fries. After Jax grabbed beers from the fridge, they settled in front of the top-of-the-line behemoth of a television. That sucker dominated one entire wall in the living room. While they ate, Jax tuned the channel to the baseball game. Sixth inning and the Delphi Demons had a dominating seven-run lead. They were at bat with two men on and no outs. It was gonna be a blow out. Jax switched to the 24-hour news station on the TV.

  Ian protested. “Hey, I wanted to watch the game.”

  “News flash, the Demons are going to win.

  “Yeah, but I like to bask in the reflected glory.”

  “So bask already.” Jax lifted his bottle and took a sip. Hoppy flavor danced on his tongue.

  “You know, buddy, I’m glad you decided on Delphi, but I’m not sure why you traded the glamour of DC for a second tier university.” Ian chomped on a huge bite of his loaded burger. A blob of ketchup plopped onto the table. Ian swept it up with a finger and scrubbed it away with his napkin.

  “Don’t sell DCU short. It’s a great university.”

  “Maybe, but it doesn’t move or shake like the DC dance.” Ian shimmied in his seat, bringing a reluctant grin to Jax’s face.

  “I told you I don’t need the drama of dealing with politicians and their incessant posturing. I could talk to them until I was blue in the face, and they’d never understand why repeating history would be a huge mistake.” Jax shook his head and contemplated his beer. “You have to be partially insane, or maybe wholly insane, to want to work in that kind of environment.”

  “It does take a special breed of cat. But maybe by being in the tank with the other sharks you could bring sanity. No one understands historical nuances better than you.”

  Understanding and being able to effectively communicate why certain strategies would be a mistake were two different things. Since Jax’s expertise was with the former, not the latter, he knew he’d simply spin his wheels. The influential people had stopped listening to the advice he offered.

  He wadded up the wrapper from his burger and dropped it into the bag by his feet. “They ignored my warnings and advice regarding The Five Nations Block shenanigans. You know how that ended.” With the genocide of thousands of ethnic civilians who’d squatted in disputed territory near the Black Sea. Tension rose up Jax’s neck, the sensation cold, clammy, and fierce. He rolled his shoulders. “No thanks. I don’t need the headache.”

  Ian pegged him with an earnest look. “Think what the outcome could’ve been if you’d kept fighting, man.”

  “Ian, if I’d kept fighting, it would have been my picture in the dictionary next to the definition of insanity. New problems, same result. What good is giving advice if they don’t listen?” Shame and guilt climbed his chest as he recalled the one time they had listened and his advice had been wrong. He still ached for the lives that had been lost in the blood diamond fields in Sierra Leone.

  “Bastards.” Ian’s tone was laden with derision.

  Loud laughter burst from Jax. “Yeah, they are.”

  “You’ve done a great job getting set up here.” Ian had helped move boxes from the rental truck into Jax’s house, but had bailed on unpacking. He wiped his fingers on a napkin. “You still have the best home theater system I’ve ever seen.”

  Stupid, juvenile pride swelled within his chest. Only the best surround-sound speakers would do for him. The sub-woofer thumped out the bass and rocked a body good. “It keeps me occupied. Not much to do most nights, so I’ve been concentrating on gaming and defeating pretend enemies.”

  “We need to fix that sad state of affairs, dude. I’d be happy to set you up on a blind date. I know a couple of fun girls who’d die to go out with you.”

  “Not much into blind dates.” The only woman he wanted to date had stunning red hair, vivid blue eyes, and freckles sprinkled across her nose. “I did meet someone interesting today. Do you know Clio Thanos?”

  Ian’s eyes gli
ttered speculatively in the reflected glow from the television. “Super-cute librarian Clio?”

  He forgot sexy. Sexy, flame-haired librarian Clio. “Obviously you know the woman. What’s her story?”

  Ian scrubbed his jaw. “She has a photographic memory to go with her rocking bod.”

  So Ian knew about her freaky fast ability to pull information from her internal memory banks. “I was impressed when she gave a student an answer without looking anything up. And she delivered correct information. It was about Greek government, one of my specialties, and I doubt I could have come up with the answer as fast as she did.”

  “You hot for her? I mean, you could do worse. But I’m warning you—ya gotta get by her sisters to date her. The whole Thanos clan is tight and closed off.”

  “Spoken like a man who’s run afoul of them in the past.”

  “Dude, there are nine siblings in that family. Every single one of them a female. I’ve had some dealings with one of her sisters, Polly.” Ian’s tone heated up. “She’s an investigative reporter for Channel Seven.”

  “Hmm, there’s a story there.”

  “Yeah, but we aren’t talking about me. So, Clio…” Ian circled his hand.

  “Not much to say except she intrigued me. I met her when I went to set up my research access. Apparently, I have some…privileges that impressed her. I have twenty-four-seven access to the whole building.”

  Ian whistled low. “The DCU administration rarely grants full privileges. I’ve been petitioning them for the past year for access to their science library. I’m a goddamn PhD, and they won’t give me the time of day.”

  Jax’s shirt drew tight across his back when he shrugged. “What can I say? I must have the necessary clout. Now I have to find a way to make Clio want whatever it is that makes me so damn special. I predict I’ll be spending a lot of time at the library in the near future.” He’d like to spend some time in Clio’s bed as well. He’d have to work on the details of that quest. Hopefully it wouldn’t end up an exercise in futility—the way his assignment to the GeoPoly think tank had been.