by Tina Folsom
Didn’t he know it? Triton was graced with his mother’s beauty: blonde hair, blue eyes, and a classical nose. Coupled with a perfect body, there wasn’t anything Triton could physically improve upon. There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t get a come hither look from a woman—goddess or mortal. Or scornful looks from gods or men who saw him as clear competition for the affections of their women. But it appeared that his good looks could become a hindrance in his quest to return home.
Triton tossed Eros a pissed off look. Why on earth had his friend—make that ex-friend—given him such bad advice? Eros’ smug smile said it all—he had a secret agenda. He’d wring the love god’s neck as soon as Zeus was gone, and then afterwards, he’d find out Eros’ motives.
Hurt him first, ask questions later.
“You will also be stripped of all your godly powers while you reside on earth,” Zeus continued. “Any god helping you with your challenge will be punished.”
The big god let his gaze sweep over the crowd, lingering more than a few seconds on Eros and Hermes.
“This also goes for any gods not assembled here today.”
Well, that took care of Dionysus then. The quartet was practically inseparable. But while he wasn’t present at Triton’s sentencing—and most likely out carousing somewhere in the human world—Dionysus would surely come to his aid if need be.
On Olympus, friendship meant more than kin—considering that with all the inbreeding going on, practically everybody was related anyway.
Both Hermes and Dionysus were his cousins, while Eros was a cousin twice removed (and if Triton could help it, completely removed after the stunt he’d just pulled, giving him such disastrous counsel).
“In addition,” Zeus droned on.
Was the old god still not done? What else could he add that would make this any worse than it already was?
“… any god found interfering with Triton’s efforts to secure the love of a mortal through his kindness and selflessness, shall be …” Zeus made a dramatic pause. In the silence that followed, one could have heard the tear of a virgin drop to the ground—not that there were any virgins left on Olympus thanks to the unquenchable libido of Zeus himself.
“… rewarded.”
Cheers greeted the free-for-all-let’s-screw-Triton-over announcement. His uncle was one sick bastard.
Many of the Olympians were assembled, all wearing their long flowing tunics, some in white, some in more cheerful colors. Most faces looking back at Triton were familiar.
He spotted Artemis, who was decked out in her hunting gear, soft leather boots caressing her long muscular legs. Triton caught her eye and winked at her. When he was back after his sentence, he’d make a play for her. It would be fun, especially since he knew his annoying half-brother Orion coveted her too. Now, that would be a worthy challenge: which brother to bed her first?
Now that Triton had received his punishment, he reconsidered his assessment of Danae, Zeus’ current mistress. Looking back, she hadn’t been such a great lay after all. At least she wasn’t worth the kind of harsh revenge Zeus had taken on him. All she’d done was lie there with her legs spread. She hadn’t even sucked his shaft. He was in the right mind to go back there and make her suck him off so at least the punishment fit the crime.
But of course, that wasn’t possible. Zeus would make sure Triton wasn’t going anywhere but down the mountain into mortal Greece. And he would keep a tight leash on his mistress from now on—that was, until he lost interest and moved onto somebody else. Which would probably happen even before Triton returned from Earth.
“So, it is done.” Zeus turned and walked across the terrace toward his opulent white marble palace.
“Off to Greece then,” Triton mumbled to himself.
Zeus spun around and gave him a nasty grin. “Greece? You’re not going to Greece.”
“But, where, if not—”
“You’re going to America.”
Triton’s heart missed a beat. America? The land of bad television, consumerism, and people obsessed with beauty? What were the chances of finding a woman there who could love him for anything but his beauty? While Triton often ventured into Greece and Italy for some erotic adventures, during which of course he had to disguise the fact that he was a god, he’d always avoided the Americas. They held no interest for him. Of course, Zeus knew that fact full well.
A moment later Zeus was gone, and the spectators dispersed. Triton looked over to where Eros and Hermes stood and noticed Orion grin just behind them. The god of the hunters was a royal pain in their collective butts. There was no love lost between them. Triton graced him with an undignified look, but even now, Orion could barely contain his glee before he turned and walked away.
His two friends tried to remain positive.
“Don’t worry, you can handle it,” Eros claimed.
Triton slammed his fist into the love god’s stomach. “That’s for giving me such brilliant advice.”
“Hey, I meant well.”
“Should’ve listened to me instead,” Hermes said with a smug smile on his face. “But no, you thought I was tricking you. Now, would I do that to you?”
“Yes, you would, and you have,” Triton said, ignoring his friend’s mock-innocent tone.
“Not this time. Hades would have been a blast.”
Like he needed to be told. Hades might have a bad rep among mortals, but a crafty god like Triton could have made it work.
“Maybe you should have listened to Zeus in the first place, rather than daydreaming again.” Eros caressed his bow.
“Or maybe you shouldn’t have shagged Danae in the first place.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but that’s not going to help me now. So, what’s the plan? How are we getting out of this one?” Triton asked and gave his friends an expectant look.
“We?” Eros and Hermes responded in unison.
“You’re on your own on this one,” Eros proclaimed.
Hermes nodded. “Ditto.”
“Jerks!” Triton didn’t get a chance to continue chastising his friends. A moment later, he felt a strong force rip through his body, transporting him off the mountain.
“Eros, payback’s a bitch,” he yelled, but wasn’t sure if the love god had heard him.
Great, Zeus wasn’t even giving him time to pack for this trip.
Chapter Two
“A blind woman? That’s your brilliant plan?” Triton shook his head at his friend Dionysus who nodded eagerly.
“Of course. It makes perfect sense. A blind woman won’t love you for your beauty, because she can’t see you. Now you just need to pick one, and you’re on your way home.”
The god of wine and ecstasy had a self-satisfied grin on his face. His dark looks were in stark contrast to Triton’s blonde hair and sun-kissed skin. Dionysus was a handsome god, Triton had to admit—at least to any woman who was into the dark and brooding look.
Triton’s bare ass still hurt from his rough landing in a stone garden behind an old house. If it had been Zeus’ idea of a joke to drop him there, naked and without any means of procuring clothes, then Triton failed to see the humor in it.
At least Dionysus had heard his calls immediately, just like any god could hear a mortal’s call for help if addressed by his name. He’d listened to Triton’s story and acted. After supplying him with a decent set of clothes, Dionysus had disappeared again.
Triton felt better now that he was dressed, and luckily Dionysus taste in fashion was impeccable, as was his eye for size. The jeans fit like a glove, hugging Triton’s backside tightly.
As he’d walked through this strange new city, map in hand like a hapless tourist to follow Dionysus’ directions, he’d noticed more than one woman admiring the fit of his jeans—both front and back. Well, he wasn’t complaining.
He wandered through this little town with its cobblestone streets, narrow alleys, and old brick and wood houses with their large ornate balconies and quaint inner courtyards to
find the place where Dionysus expected him. But it was all too cute for his taste—wherever here was.
Triton glanced back down at the map in his hands. Right, Charleston, that’s what it said. And if that wouldn’t have explained it, he read the plaque on the building Dionysus was leaning against: Charleston School for the Blind.
“Let’s go,” Dionysus suggested.
Triton put his hand on his friend’s arm to hold him back. “You can’t just walk in there. It’s a school.”
“Yeah, but it’s a school for the blind. Nobody will see us.”
Triton had to admit that on one hand Dionysus’ plan was ingenious. If he could find a blind woman to romance, she would fall in love with him without being aware of his good looks, and Zeus’ challenge would be met. He’d be home in no time. But to go traipsing into a school for the blind and take advantage of a more than vulnerable woman—that went even beyond what Triton was prepared to do.
Hesitantly, Triton entered the sheltered courtyard of the school and surveyed the scene in front of him. Children from the ages of about five through not older than seventeen were assembled in the grassy area. Some sat on benches, others stood around in groups, talking loudly. He couldn’t see any teachers. Where were they all? Wouldn’t at least one person be on duty to watch out for the kids?
Triton let his gaze sweep over some of the older girls.
“You can’t possibly expect me to...” Triton started and swallowed hard. “They are kids. Your father clearly said 'woman', not 'girl'. I’m not going to—”
“I wish you wouldn’t call him that. I don’t even call him Father. What a father he’s been so far!” Dionysus was off on one of his rants. “All he wants from me is to set him up with gorgeous women. Can you imagine? My own father? And he started when he was still with my mother, as if ….”
Triton tuned out his friend’s ramblings. He’d heard it all before: how Zeus had betrayed Dionysus’ mother—which technically wasn’t even correct since Dionysus’ mother Semele had merely been Zeus’ mistress—and how he felt abandoned, and at the same time, used by him, and how it had influenced Dionysus’ relationships with women. Complete psychobabble if anybody asked him.
“Dionysus, focus!”
“You’re not the only one who has problems, Triton!”
Triton tossed him an impatient glare. “But mine are a bit more urgent right now. And this—” He gestured at the blind kids. “—this is not going to work, so let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Yes, but not without a woman for you,” Dionysus agreed.
“What and take her with us? As in abduct? That’s gross even by your standards,” Triton retorted.
Dionysus slapped his flat palm on Triton’s forehead. “Of course not, you idiot. We’ll watch her, follow her and find out where she lives. And then you’ll find a pretext to approach her and get to know her. You’ll have her panting for you in no time.”
The plan was perfect. But Triton didn’t feel like patting his friend on the back for his ingenious idea. He felt repulsed by it.
“Okay, then,” Dionysus continued. “Which one of these little fillies do you fancy?” He pointed at a group of three girls who looked to be around seventeen. One was flat-chested and not yet well developed. All three had fresh young faces attesting to their youth. On Olympus, any girl over fourteen was considered a woman as long as her tits were sufficiently developed. Two of the three girls certainly met the criteria.
Still, they were kids, hardly women.
“Go on, pick one,” Dionysus urged again. How low did he think Triton would sink? But before he could tell Dionysus to forget the whole idea, he heard a scream from behind.
“Pedophile!”
The scream filled the courtyard a moment before a cane hit against Triton’s calf.
“What the fuck?” he hissed and swung around to face his attacker.
The cane belonged to a boy who was no older than ten. While he was blind, he didn’t seem to have any problems figuring out where to hit Triton again and promptly repeated the assault.
“Stop!” Triton shouted.
“Pedophile! Help!” the boy screamed again, attracting more attention from his classmates now. Led by the boy’s shouts, more of them came toward him and Dionysus.
“Fuck,” Dionysus ground out. “This is not good.”
“You think?”
More kids surrounded them, and suddenly they all started screaming and shouting. Words like pedophile, jerk, and kidnapper flew freely around the courtyard. He and Dionysus fended off the furious blows of their canes.
“Great, now see what you’ve gotten us into,” Triton complained.
Triton felt another painful hit against his thigh, followed by one on his ass before he heard an authoritative adult voice.
“What on earth is going on here?”
Triton looked in the direction of the voice and saw one of the teachers look out from a window. The woman stared right at him. Damn, she was obviously not blind.
“Pedophile!” several of the kids shouted again.
“Police,” another one screamed.
“We’ve gotta get out of here! Run!” Triton called toward his friend who was in the midst of fighting off a vicious attack from a couple of twelve-year-olds. Kids shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near those deadly instruments they wielded right now—those canes.
Triton had to get the hell out of there before anybody could give an accurate description of him and deliver him to the authorities, cutting his sojourn in this lovely Southern city short.
Triton ran past Dionysus, grabbed him by his arm and jerked him away from the two little assailants. In the distance, a police siren blared already. Who’d ever said the South was slow?
He exchanged frantic looks with Dionysus and launched into a sprint out the school gate.
“This way,” Dionysus ordered.
Triton followed him along the narrow side street. He tripped over a missing cobblestone, but caught himself in time and continued running.
The siren came closer and could only be a block away now. Dionysus dove into an alley, Triton close on his heels. After half a block, his friend turned left into an old overgrown cemetery.
Spanish moss hung from the weeping willows, and weeds graced the old tombstones. The filtered sunlight shining onto the graves made for an eerie atmosphere.
Breathing heavily, Triton followed Dionysus’ example and let himself fall against a gravestone. His chest heaved from the unexpected exercise. He wasn’t used to running. As a sea god he was an excellent swimmer, and he missed the water, but on dry land he was merely average. To really relax now, he’d give anything to feel the ocean’s waves break against his body.
“That was close.” Triton exhaled and wiped a pearl of sweat off his forehead.
He’d had it with Dionysus for today. Seducing a woman was one thing (and a thing Triton didn’t mind), but going after a blind one, and one who was barely a woman at that was something even he as a god could not stomach. Sure, the gods weren’t exactly known for their humane treatment of mortals, but to seduce a blind teenage girl? Only the most depraved of gods would sink that low. And for all his callousness, even Triton drew the line somewhere.
“I need a drink now.”
“Sounds like an excellent idea,” Dionysus agreed. He wasn’t the god of wine for nothing.
“Without you,” Triton barked.
Chapter Three
“I should have never let you talk me into coming here,” Sophia sighed and gave Francesca a frustrated look. “Only the most desperate singles come to this dive to get picked up.” And she didn’t categorize herself as quite that desperate—not yet, anyway.
Her friend sipped from her umbrella drink. “Don’t knock it. I got my last five dates from here.”
“Case in point.” Sophia lifted her handbag from the table.
Without interrupting her survey of the men in the dim lounge, Francesca put her hand on Sophia’s arm, stopping her from gett
ing up. “Don’t even think about leaving. What are you gonna do at home? Work until midnight? No. You need a night out to switch off, take your mind off things.”
Caught! How did Francesca always know what her plans were? Was she psychic, or what?
“I don’t have time to switch off. The opening is only seven weeks away, and we’re not even half-way through the renovations. And the bank is breathing down my neck.” Some days she barely knew where to start with all the things she had to take care of. Running a renovations project turned out to be more time consuming and frustrating than she’d ever imagined. Just as well that she was good at multi-tasking, otherwise she would have thrown the towel in long ago.
“Turning the house into a B&B isn’t a job for one person. I told you that before you started,” Francesca chastised, furrowing her brow.
“There wasn’t exactly anybody I could ask for help, was there? Or would you rather I’d involved Michael?” Sophia didn’t want an answer to her rhetorical question but knew she’d get one nevertheless. She could count on it—three, two …
“You need him like a hole in the head. That man’s toxic. Shame you can’t choose family.” Her friend pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Maybe toxic is a little too harsh a word. He isn’t quite as bad as you make him out to be,” Sophia defended him. Her words were a mere reflex. She didn’t like talking bad about people who weren’t present to defend themselves, even if they deserved it. On second thought, maybe a good-natured rant with her best friend would kick all that pent-up frustration out of her tired bones and help her relax.
“Oh, really? And what part of your dear cousin is wholesome? The part of him that robbed your aunt blind while she was still alive, or when he tried to open credit lines in your name? Or, hold on, maybe the part where he sold your car from right under your nose and you had to take the bus to campus?” Francesca put her finger under her chin in a gesture of mock-thought.
Okay, a rant it was. Why fight it, when she knew she was still reeling from Michael’s last stunt at the reading of Eleni’s will, where he’d threatened to sue for what he thought was rightfully his? “Brings back memories,” Sophia admitted. Unfortunately, not many good ones. Growing up with her cousin Michael after their parents had died together in a boating accident, hadn’t been easy. “Aunt Eleni was so mad at him when she realized he was stealing from her. That’s when she changed her will. Said he wouldn’t get a red cent from her.”