by S. E. Babin
I frowned at him. "You're going to fix that right?"
He stalked over to me, took the mug from my hand, smacked it down so hard it shattered and cut my fingers. I hissed and pulled them to my lips, but he was a man on a mission. He sent a burst of magic onto my fingers, healing them instantly.
Seconds later his hands wrapped around my hips, and he'd hauled me up and set me down on the counter, none too gently.
His face loomed inches from mine. "Explain yourself," he growled.
My mouth went dry because angry Hades was sexy. Super, super sexy. And I was pretty sure my rear end was going to have an enormous bruise.
"I did die," I finally said.
"No shit!" he said and glared at me. "Get to the point where you come back to life, gods damn it before I lose my mother effing mind!"
I snorted. "You seriously just said effing?"
"Abby." His voice sounded like a wild animal, and he shook with anger.
"I went...somewhere. There was a light."
His eyes hazed a dark, smoky gray at the mention of the light, and his teeth clenched together. "Tell me you didn't step into it."
I shook my head. "The Fates stopped me. They took me to the Well." I averted my gaze. "And they gave me a choice."
He bent his head and rested it against my collarbone. His thick, dark hair tickled my nose and I raised my fingers to run them through the silky strands.
Hades sighed, shuddered and put his arms around my back to bring me closer. "I lost you."
"I'm back."
"Tell me what else happened."
I continued playing with his hair. "I don't want to."
"Abby, I swear to the gods if you don't -"
I tilted his head up to make him look me in the eyes. "I promise that most of it was good. They showed me some things. I - chose to come back. Even if I had to keep fighting Morgana and Demeter."
Confusion skittered across his face. "And what would have happened if you’d chosen to stay? To die." He swallowed hard.
"The world would have been saved. Persephone would have married Hamilton. Your book would stay with you. All would have been well."
"No," he said with feeling. "It wouldn't have been well."
I chuckled. "There are thousands of women out there, Hades."
"Never say that to me again."
I sighed, unsure I wanted to move forward right now until I had some time to decompress and until after the games were over. The games that were scheduled to happen very, very soon.
"Let me up," I asked and wiggled a little bit to extricate myself.
"No."
"You broke my mug and you spilled my coffee. I want another one."
He snapped a finger and handed a mug to me.
"Hades," I said with warning.
"Just - " he swallowed hard. "Just give me this moment."
I stared at him, swallowed hard and allowed him to pull me into his chest.
I tried not to think about how well we fit together. The Fates' vision was going to haunt me until I figured out who the heck they were talking about.
Epilogue
It took a few days to clean up the mess Demeter, Morgana, and Persephone had made, but we finally managed to have a wedding. A quick one because no one wanted any more mythological shenanigans. We’d left Hamilton and Persephone happily snuggled up in their enormous mansion. She was glowing with pregnancy, and that bothered me more than I’d like to admit, but it was no longer any of my business. That was up to Persephone, Hamilton, and Hermes for now. I’d heard no rumblings over it so it appeared her secret was still safe.
I, on the other hand, had retreated back to my home in Asheville as soon as I could, content to bask in my solitude. Clotho was turning out to be a good roommate and had an uncanny knack of telling when I didn’t want to be bothered. Plus, she did dishes and that was always a plus.
I retreated to my office for some catch-up and fired up my computer. Once it was up and running, I logged into my bank account. An enormous deposit stared at me from my computer screen. I gasped, spluttered, and choked on my coffee. Then I blinked a couple of times, rubbed my eyes, and leaned forward to peer at my computer screen again.
“Holy balls,” I muttered.
I had enough to buy a yacht and party Leonardo DiCaprio style for the rest of my immortal life. I thought about calling the bank to verify it, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer all the questions this was bound to raise.
The doorbell rang. I didn’t want to be torn away from the mental images of me making it rain money, but I managed to pry myself from the office chair and walk to the door.
A bouquet the size of a tree stared back at me, and the only reason I knew a human was carrying it was the two legs I could see underneath the massive purple vase.
“Whoa,” I murmured and peered around the side to see who was delivering it.
A chagrined human stood there. “Delivery,” he said with a chuckle. “Someone must really like you.” He shoved the flowers forward, and I caught them. Barely.
“Wow,” I said, as I inhaled the sweet scent of lilies, roses, and jasmine. All flowers representing both hope, life, and death.
I knew immediately who’d sent them to me.
I tipped the delivery man generously because he’d probably need to see a chiropractor after hauling those things around, and went back inside. I set the delivery on the table and pulled the heavy linen paper card from the envelope.
I hope the deposit came your way and is adequate for the job you performed for me.
A smile grew across my face. More than adequate, I’d say. I kept reading.
Please accept these flowers as a promise. A vow of things to come and a reminder that in Death lives hope and rebirth. And love. I will visit soon. And we will speak of things. And I will remind you of my Christmas Day promise. And if I have to, I will compete in the games and win your hand, because I am a man of my word.
And a man like me, a King, a bringer of death and a harbinger of souls, has need of a woman to be his Queen.
Let the Games begin…
And below it, scratched in an elegant hand were the words of Christopher Marlowe.
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the Rocks,
Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow Rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing Madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of Roses
And a thousand fragrant posies...
I held the card to my chest, tears springing to my eyes, and let the words of the Fates wash over me. Could Hades be the one? And I realized as I stood there touching the soft blooms of the flowers and holding his words to my heart, that I genuinely hoped so.
I’d never met another one like him - a man of so many contradictions. A man who was lonely to the bone, but who could spout Shakespeare from his lips without blinking. A man who could bring down worlds, yet who was content to sit in his library surrounded by his books.
A man who should want absolutely nothing to do with me, but had chosen to pursue me with the dogged perseverance of a man with nothing to lose.
I sank down into the kitchen chair and tried not to think about all the ways this could go horribly wrong. Instead, I thought of the baby wrapped in the soft blanket with hair the color of unused coal and haunting eyes. There was nothing I could do about the games. They had to happen. But there were some people I could talk to about it. I was not one without any tricks up her sleeve.
I’d rarely gone after my own happiness before, instead having to be forced to accept it.
But this time would be different. If this was my Fate, I was going to stand up and take it with open arms.
Because I finally believed I deserved it.
Acknowledgments
Credit must go to Christ
opher Marlowe for his beautiful poem, A Passionate Shepherd to His Love.
Also, to Viola Estrella for her rocking covers.
My husband for his infinite patience with my spaghetti brains.
And my children who managed to halt my writing progress at least several times a week and with the occasional emergency room visit. I love you anyway, you little monsters.
About the Author
S.E. Babin is an award-winning author with a passion for writing books with a paranormal twist. Whether it's romance or mystery, she loves taking the norm and turning it into the extraordinary. Her love of reading turned into a curious exploration to see whether or not she could write her own novel. Beginning with discarded pages of angsty novels and a slightly popular reimagining of Beowulf's Grendel in her high school English class, Sheryl spent way too much time in the library, killing any chance of her becoming a cheerleader or anything even remotely cool. Interested in keeping up with new releases? Her newsletter link is right below because Sheryl likes to make things easy and talk about herself in the third person.
Hang out with Sheryl!
@hungrybiblio
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A Special Gift for You!
Read on for Out of Chills Aphrodite
The events of this novella take place before the events of Out of Cake Aphrodite. Enjoy!
Part I
Out of Chills Aphrodite
A Between the Chronicles Novella
Chapter 1
The letter arrived at my door, a fancy cream envelope with my formal name scrawled in elegant handwriting across the front of it. I bent down to scoop it up and shivered as a gust of cool mountain wind brushed across my shoulders. The longer I stayed on Earth, the more sensitive I became to things like temperature. The envelope was heavy, the material an expensive linen blend. I wasn’t the most popular gal around anymore after I broke away from Zeus and began working for Hades so I had no idea who this could be from.
I pulled my knitted shawl closer around my shoulders as I straightened and headed back inside. I shut the heavy wooden door behind me and padded on bare feet into my new living room. I couldn’t help but smile as I walked into my brand new house. My last one had been destroyed by some of the Twelve Olympians, but I’d paid them back in spades. Athena was shrunken down to a size where she couldn’t hurt anyone and Hestia was in Artie’s possession in five hundred years of servitude. Zeus had been knocked out of power after recent events so he no longer had any reason to hurt me. Well...he could and I guess he did have reasons, but he’d have Hades on his heels and after the events of a few months ago, I think Zeus would be smart enough to avoid that scenario. Plus he’d been banished from his kingdom for the next year.
I didn’t mind all that too much. The only thing to really bother me was the absence of Hermes. To save myself and the people I loved I was forced to make a deal. Typhon, Zeus’s son and Hermes’ brother, had a thing for me and to enlist his help I had to offer him the opportunity to win my hand. Of course, my timing was appallingly bad as it came right after Hermes had told me he loved me. When he found out he was understandably pissed.
And he’d broken up with me. Story of my life.
So I may have had a brand new house courtesy of Hades and my new gig, but I was single and all of my friends had gone on to do their own things.
Mostly.
A soft brush of wind erupted around me and I came face to face with Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, Geek Extraordinaire, and my very best friend. She had her own business now but stopped in frequently to hang out with me.
She pushed up her thick, black-framed glasses and peered at the invite in my hand. “Ooooh, a party!”
“How do you know? It could be a wedding.”
She shook her head and took the envelope from between my fingers. “Nah. This is Dionysus’ work. I can smell him on it.”
“Gross,” I muttered but didn’t question how she knew.
She slid open the envelope with practiced ease and pulled out a heavy orange colored invitation. “Dionysus requests your attendance at his annual Halloween ball. Costume is mandatory. BYOB unless you’re brave enough to drink what I’m offering.” A delicate shudder slid over her thin shoulders. “No thanks,” she murmured.
“Agreed.” Dionysus’ parties were legend and most of us avoided eating or drinking anything offered by him. He was notorious for spiking everything which led to some interesting Hangoveresque stories afterward. Fortunately, I’d never fallen down that particular rabbit hole, but I’d seen firsthand some of the destruction his parties had wrought.
A slip of vellum fell out from between the thick linen pages of the invitation. I bent down before Artie could and picked it up. It was a note addressed only to me.
Fair Aphrodite, Ariadne and I extend a personal plea to you for your attendance. We haven’t properly thanked you for your help and have high hopes you will grace us with your presence in our new home.
It was signed by Dionysus himself. I frowned. The last note I’d received from him had been a threat. Funny how the times changed.
Artie snickered. “A personal note, eh? You can’t refuse that.”
I wrinkled my nose and cursed. “I have no idea what to wear.”
Artie grinned widely. Her earlier reluctance blew away as she reveled in my predicament. Brilliant violet eyes sparkled with amusement. “The world is our oyster. We’ll figure it out.”
Chapter 2
Two Weeks Later
Artie stopped in her tracks. “No.”
I grinned at myself in the mirror, the unfamiliar beard making my face pull in odd directions. “Yes,” I said, my voice muffled underneath all the brown, glorious hair.
A strangled laugh escaped her. “You’re going to get us killed.”
I shrugged, one bare shoulder moving up and down. I adjusted the one strap of the toga on my other arm and pinned it tightly. “People should lighten up.”
Artie flopped down on my bed and flung her wand into my reading chair a few feet away. She was the perfect Hermione. Long glossy chestnut hair, prissy look. Hogwarts outfit and sensible shoes. “Nailed it,” I said as I studied her.
“Expelliarmus,” she muttered as she waved at me and sighed. “We aren’t people, Abs. We’re gods. Our sense of humor has never been found. We are anomalies, you and I. What we think is funny will likely get us chased out the door.”
I waggled my bushy eyebrows in the mirror and flexed a bicep muscle. “BUT I AM THE KING OF THE GODS,” I intoned, “SCREW WITH ME AND MY WRATH WILL RAIN DOWN UPON YOUR HEADS IN THE GLORIOUS MUSIC OF DEATH.”
Artie slapped herself on the forehead. “Dead. Dead. We are so dead.”
I picked up my lightning bolt and winked at her. “Are we ready?”
She sighed and picked herself up. “You go first so I have time to get away once the death magic starts flying.”
Zeus was going to be so pissed. I caught one last glance at myself in the hallway mirror as we exited the house. I was the spitting image of Zeus himself. The lightning bolt was fake, but everything else was real.
That’ll teach people for forcing me to go to a party.
The door opened and Ariadne let out a high-pitched strangled choking noise. “Are you insane?” she hissed as she finagled her way out of the door, her fairy wings spraying glitter everywhere.
I gave her a blank stare. “I didn’t want to come.”
Ariadne laughed in spite of herself. “I told Dionysus that wouldn’t go over so well.”
“Here I am.”
She studied me for a sec, shook her head and opened the door to let me in. “I would say something like May the gods be with you, but I don’t think they’re going to be much help this evening.”
Artie gave Ariadne a sheepish grin and a shrug. “You know I tried.”
Ariadne rolled her eyes. “I know.”
She led us into a full house. Heated stares, some amused, most appa
lled, followed us in. My power signature was very different from Zeus’ so even though I looked like him, the majority of people inside knew it was me. Whispers reached my ears.
“She’s insane.”
“That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in four centuries.”
“Zeus is going to kill her.”
“Dead. She’s so dead.”
“Oh my Gods. I need to hang out with that chick.”
Artie ducked her head as she followed behind us. A wide grin spread over my face. This was the best.
She led us to the kitchen and as the double doors flung open, a glass shattered as soon as Dionysus caught wind of my appearance. Rough hands grabbed me by the shoulders. “Change back. Now.”
I shook my head, the beard wisping around my face like a horse’s mane. “Nope.”
“Hermes is here,” Dionysus said in a flat tone.
My heart stuttered and stopped for a moment, then sped up and rolled like a freight train. With great effort, I kept my features calm and composed. “So?”
He let go of me and snorted. “I feel sympathy pains for the man who finally manages to tame you.”
“As do I,” an angry, yet oh so familiar voice came from behind.
I slapped a friendly, blank smile on my face and turned.
Hermes blinked once. Twice. A twitch of a tiny smile appeared on his face before anger flattened his look. “I’ve never been so turned on,” he said, deadpan.
Artie snorted in amusement. She grabbed a drink from one of the trays. “I’m going to get out of here before it gets Riddikulus.”
I rolled my eyes. “The puns! They burn!”