The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection

by Rebekah Lewis

  “But I signed a contract...”

  “I don’t give a damn. You didn’t follow the terms, and I have every right to void said contract because of it.”

  Donovan began sputtering incoherent sentences. He claimed he wasn’t a bad person. He swore he loved Lily. He even blamed the fact he didn’t make enough money to live alone and needed the money from the arrangement he made with Bach Industries to go through with the break up.

  According to the contract, there shouldn’t have been any break up. He was to wander off, leave the area, and go home. Donovan had been assured Lily would be fine, that it was a part of a social experiment...a reality show about survival. And Donovan still hadn’t questioned further before signing the dotted line. He’d even smiled when he’d done it. Asshole.

  “You lost your right to care about Lily when you signed the form. We kept an eye on you to ensure you would not break your word, so we know you started seeking a rebound girl to take care of you afterward as you knew there was no hope your relationship would be in tact if Lily found her way home again.”

  “What do you mean if? What will happen to Lily? I thought you said she’d be safe.”

  “Oh, now you are worried about the girl? I do not recall this question coming up before. Why is that?”

  Donovan shifted uncomfortably, gaze locking on the hooves once more, and he shuddered. “I assumed you wanted to sleep with her. I mean, she’s absolutely gorgeous. Abandoned girl lost in the woods... Seems like the plot to a bad romance story or a porno. But with all the reality shows on TV these days, I figured it was some crazy plot twist. Not to mention, I saw advertisements last week about a survival show and put two and two together. And considering your, er, costume...” Donovan eyed Adonis’ feet. “And how you obviously have been observing us, since you knew about the break up.”

  “You just said you loved her, but you still would accept money for a stranger on a reality show to screw your girlfriend?” Head starting to pound, Adonis could bet money this guy had told Lily he loved her for however long they’d been together, that she was perfect for him, and he’d never be happier with another. A rage began to boil behind his eyes. Nothing pissed him off more than liars who used someone, fucked them, made them care, and then left them confused and suffering for reasons they had no control over.

  And they had the audacity to call it love!

  “I really need the money.”

  Riches ran out, but love should be infinite. Donovan dismissed the one he should treasure in favor of the false sense of security wealth provided. Humans took so much for granted.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight. Now.” He pressed his knuckles against his temple, partially easing the throbbing in his skull. Adonis wanted to dig into the bag of belongings he’d hidden away and down the last of the old-fashioned wineskins Dionysus had given him as a parting gift, but first he had to get rid of the human. His options for coping with Donovan’s fuck up were killing the imbecile or drinking. Drinking seemed the lesser of the two evils.

  “But... I think I got turned around. Which way do I—”

  “You’re the one with a map. Figure it out, asshole.” Adonis shoved Donovan, feeling a twinge of glee when the man slipped in the mud and nearly clocked out on a tree.

  Turning away from the mortal, he willed his thyrsus into the form of a cell phone. The ring on his finger grew warm and then briefly appeared in his palm as what could be likened to a medieval scepter made of solid wood with a pinecone emblem at the top, wrapped in ivy that spiraled down the length. It then reformed into a mobile telephone. While a thyrsus phone didn’t have the service a normal one would have, all of the Boeotians could send a call to Dionysus’ cell phone using the magic of their thyrsi. No other incoming or outgoing calls were possible, much to their dismay. Alas, magic wasn’t infallible.

  “Dion Bach.” Answered the man on the other end. It was Dionysus’ name in this era, but Adonis hated calling him by it. He wasn’t keen on gods pretending to be someone they weren’t. Hell, Adonis already hated himself for volunteering to participate in this fiasco as it was extremely unfair to Lily Anders to be used as a pawn, but there he stood. Doing it anyway, and for the sole purpose of repaying his brother for his own misery.

  “It’s Adonis.” He spoke levelly into the device. “The woman is alone as planned. Ariston is in the area, but as of yet unaware of her presence. I will herd her toward him when the sun rises. An unforeseen thunderstorm blew in earlier, delaying the male’s departure from the campsite, and the nymph is settled in for the night due to the elements.”

  “You can never trust humans to predict the weather, even with their so-called advanced technology. But what of the human male? Will he be a problem?”

  Adonis glanced over his shoulder and groaned when he saw Donovan fidgeting where he’d left him. “Hold on a second,” he told Dionysus and then snapped at Donovan. “Why are you still here?”

  “I wanted to make sure I’m getting my money.”

  “If you are still here in the next five minutes you won’t have anything coming to you, not even a tomorrow. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir. Uh, thanks?” He turned and hurried off, throwing a panicked backward glance Adonis’ way. Maybe he should have stabbed Donovan, just a little. Let a cougar sniff him out and hunt him. Okay, he’d have felt guilty about that eventually too.

  Adonis took a few calming breaths and lifted the phone back to his ear. “He’s left, but he may be an issue. He saw me in true form. You might want to send someone to intercept him. Not to mention, he started having second thoughts about leaving the nymph the moment he saw what I am.”

  “I’m guessing ‘satyrs have my girlfriend’ is the excuse he’s working up to.” Dionysus moved the phone away from his face to speak with someone in the background before he resumed his conversation with Adonis. “I’m sending Melancton as damage control.” He asked for the location of Donovan’s car and Adonis told him. “Stay close to the nymph, but out of sight. Report to me any news of the syrinx.” He hung up without waiting for a reply. There was no question of how Adonis was doing or how he felt about what he’d been sent to do. Dionysus only cared about getting his hands on the syrinx—a single-minded determination which began once he’d located Pan several months ago and had been gaining momentum since. The god’s true motives were unknown, though he claimed he only wanted to use the instrument to help the Boeotians break their curse. Right... Pan had tried and failed to do the same in the past and it hadn’t worked, so what Dionysus planned to do differently was anyone’s guess.

  He brought the thyrsus back to its true form, twirling it around his fingers like a baton while he thought about the situation he’d placed himself in, and of having to deal with Melancton’s bullshit silent treatment. With an exaggerated exhale of breath, he allowed the thyrsus to change once more into that of a steel-banded ring. It always had to revert to its initial form before it could transform again. Adonis pushed it onto his finger.

  He didn’t want to traumatize Lily any further than Donovan had...which had been his fault to begin with. However, his twin wanted one thing: to be human again. The only way to force Ariston to reveal the syrinx, if he even had it, was to give him a reason to need something so powerful. Which is what Adonis dreaded most of all—doing something so horrible Ariston would need to use it. Do I even have it in me?

  Thoughts of abandoning the whole mission and letting Ariston have Lily to himself evaporated as Adonis took a swig of Dionysus’ splendid wine. Warm and bitter on his tongue, the hint of grape and other berries embracing his taste buds, he closed his eyes and savored the taste. It was sweet and absolute bliss to him.

  He had little doubt Dionysus would screw them all over once he had his hands on the syrinx. That was what gods did. Destruction was the fruit of their assistance in any way. The memory of the day he’d implored Aphrodite for help after the curse changed him resurfaced; the wound reopened. The pure horror in the goddess’ features when she saw what he’d b
ecome...

  Adonis squeezed his eyes shut, wishing it away. He hated that memory. The shame he still felt from it. He’d been so consumed by lust when he begged her to come to him. Thinking Adonis had talked Ariston into sharing a bed with her, she’d finally approached at his call. Nearly mindless from the curse, Adonis had lunged at her. His nude flesh had been feverish, his dick painfully erect. He’d barely been able to think past the basic primal need which drove him. He’d been prepared to take her by force to impede the pain of the arousal.

  A contemptuous sneer had curled Aphrodite’s lip when she’d beheld Adonis’ state, and he remembered it giving him pause. As she’d opened her mouth to mock him, he’d been possessed by the desire to take what he needed, and he’d needed sex. Needed it like air. Aphrodite shrieked when Adonis had fumbled with her robes, seeking the comfort and passion she’d given him many times before. She’d kneed him in the groin, and shoved him away from her, and then righted her robe, standing as tall as she could on her dainty frame. The gold laurel wreath upon her head was askew. Her glare, eviscerating.

  “You are a monster!” she’d roared, “You truly expect me to take you to bed looking a beast more than a man? You thought to force yourself on me? On me!” She’d laughed, as if the very thought of him touching her had been the most hilarious thing anyone could ever deem to try. The words were icy, expelling the fire in his blood the curse had ignited. “Would that you had died, Adonis. The sight of you sullies the memory of our time together. Do not seek me out again, horrible creature.” She’d been more appalled by his appearance than the fact he’d almost forced himself on her—that she’d found more unbelievable than disgusting. Adonis had to remind himself goddesses were older than humans, a superior breed. Their morals differed on a far grander scale of right and wrong. Adonis had been nothing more than an amusement to her, whereas he’d loved her.

  To further shame him, Aphrodite had mourned the loss of him as though he truly had died. Stories and songs were composed of her sorrow, yet she’d displayed none of that compassion when she banished him from her bed. All because Ariston wouldn’t do as she wished.

  Another gulp of wine. His agitation grew.

  Adonis wanted Ariston to suffer as he had when the female who made his entire universe worth living was taken away, and the nymph would be the key. When the Satyr Moon filled the sky Ariston would be as distraught as Adonis had been on Mount Kithairon when Aphrodite had left him there to his fate.

  ***

  The morning sun gave Lily a handle on the cardinal directions. As long as she was mindful of the sun’s placement—and rain clouds didn’t show up—she’d be fine. Since they weren’t due to make it back until tomorrow, Sunday, there was a chance the car remained where they’d left it, if Donovan hadn’t left her. Which would mean he was lost in the woods and not as much of dick as he seemed, but only a minimal amount less dickier.

  If she was lucky, she’d run into a ranger station beforehand. She wanted to go home and lose herself to a musical movie watching binge with Ben and Jerry’s Double Fudge Brownie as her only accomplice. The ice cream weight gain would give her something to focus on later with dropping the pounds again.

  Lily rubbed the back of her neck and glanced around. The feeling of being watched had come and gone throughout the night, but ever since she’d packed the tent and started hiking, it became thick and suffocating. Not a physical sensation, but uneasiness which followed her as she trekked on. She brushed it off as paranoia and anxiety, residual side effects of the notion Donovan left her there on purpose. Was she really that horrible of a person to be abandoned? Heh. So asks the orphan.

  Birds cheerfully chirped their merry songs in the treetops, the sounds slicing through the silence of solitude. Usually Lily would consider the setting tranquil and calming, but that morning it became increasingly frightening with each onward step. A rustling in the bushes to her right had her wanting to sob as she cut between the trees on her left to avoid any wild animal wishing to devour her for breakfast. It wasn’t the first time such an occurrence startled her off her intended path. Lily wondered if she’d imagined it, but she had little doubt she’d lost herself deeper into the forest than before. She couldn’t figure out how the sun ended up on the opposite side of where it should have been.

  The ground remained damp from the previous night’s storm, and the soil and moss provided a pungent order, though not entirely unpleasant. It added to the dreary atmosphere in a way she used to appreciate. The woods were as depressing as her thoughts. You know it’s bad when you welcome the dismal thoughts to drown out the paranoid ones. Someone or something watched her again, and she blinked rapidly to prevent herself from crying as she craned her neck to check for a glimpse of whom or what stalked her. She wasn’t a crier and refused to keep doing it.

  No one seemed to hover behind any tree trunks as she moved on, watching out of her peripheral vision for danger. Lily peeked up and saw nothing in the branches above her but a small opossum exploring a patch of leaves. When it turned its furry gray head in her direction to regard her with large, glossy eyes, she didn’t sense anything she’d felt before. That she felt still.

  “Donovan?” she called out, stopping to turn about again. It had stormed like crazy all night. Donovan could have been trapped somewhere waiting for the rain to end. Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding Lily she needed to keep going. Rainclouds continued to move in, visible in the gray sky through the pines and oaks surrounding her.

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear they’d been conjured by the memory of the storm. Did the clouds just darken themselves on their own? How did rain clouds form anyway? She couldn’t remember from her high school days, and it hadn’t seemed like information she’d need to know outside of the classroom.

  She stared at her watch. Already past noon; she’d lost hours in the wrong direction. I won’t panic...

  A melody drifted around her. Soft at first, to where it hardly registered what she heard. When her brain connected the sound with the implications of what it could mean—civilization of some kind—the heavy tension knotting up her shoulders fell away.

  The instrument had to be some type of flute, and as Lily tried to discern more about the strange tune, something rather odd occurred. The notes acted as a sensual balm seeping into her pores, and it flowed like warm water over the tender areas of her womanly anatomy. Part of her mind flashed a warning at her, but her body was in control and not distracting her with common sense. Like a white rabbit, the song could lead her straight down a rabbit hole, and she wouldn’t care as long as Wonderland consisted of sensations as wonderful as the ones the music inflicted upon her.

  Common sense refused to be shut out completely, however, and Lily struggled to pay attention to it even as she headed in the direction of the musical source. If sexy music could spike her hormones in the middle of nowhere, three reasons seemed the most rational as to why. The first said she was dehydrated, hallucinating, or feverish. The second being that someone was about to go all Deliverance on her ass—thank God they weren’t playing banjos. She screamed at herself to run in the opposite direction at that thought, but her feet didn’t listen. The third option was she’d died, gone to Heaven, and some really hot guy was about to play her like whatever flute he was playing so seductively until she came over and over again for all eternity.

  Come to think of it, the third option sounded quite nice. Too bad things like that never happened in real life, and even if they did, she was not emotionally up to it. Lily didn’t think she could trust anyone enough to enter another relationship, and the thought of one-night stands did nothing for her.

  Somehow, she needed to make a decision between heading toward the music or turning back. The notion kept returning like a neon sign flashing: Decide, decide, decide. When Lily thought she’d regained her composure to break the spell, she saw him.

  Well, she didn’t really see him. While it felt completely real, she had enough awareness to decipher a day
dream from reality. She could see where she went, could pay attention to ensure she didn’t trip over forest debris, but at the same time he beckoned. He leaned back against a tree and waved his hand in a come-hither gesture. His hair was a fall of gold, burnished with strands of amber, over his shoulders and wafting across his pectorals in the breeze. He looked like a Viking warrior, with the strength to fight legions before returning home to send his lover to the Valhalla of bliss. But then, he also looked not at all Nordic, but exotic, with a Mediterranean tan coloring his skin. And those abs. She could wash her clothes on them.

  The fantasy man winked at her and lifted a flute comprised of several shoots tied together, tallest to shortest, with strips of leather. When he brought it close to his mouth, he blew on them, never placing his lips to the instrument, and the notes surged against her as a tidal wave breaking on a rocky shore. Words that weren’t words danced within the tune. Will you? Won’t you? Don’t you want to know what it’s like?

  Yes, Lily thought. She needed to know more than anything.

  No, her common sense screamed. Don’t give in so easily. You aren’t this weak willed! Don’t walk into his net.

  Screw common sense. It’d led her to believe Donovan would be reliable. That he’d be honest and not betray her in any way because he was a decent kind of guy. He’d deceived her regardless, broken her heart, and left her to perish like a stray on the side of the road.

  Lily wiped away a tear, cursing her emotions for failing her tough resolve. Fantasy man continued to play his archaic flute, the wind sending a leaf across his abdomen. She stole a look farther down, but the high grass covered him below his waist. He was probably as magnificently formed there as he was above. Her fantasy, so he had to be. If only she could sneak a peek to know...

  Don’t you want to know? The music seemed to read her mind. You could turn back now, but then you will be left wondering for the rest of your days. Come to me, I’ll show you.

  Her heels dug into the mud. Lily wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but she’d regained control. Turning back remained an option after all; she’d felt the need to stop in her tracks, and she had. Before, she’d entertained the thought, but never truly wanted to do it. Did she want to? Lily nibbled on her lip. She did want fantasy man to show her...