Athena's Secrets

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by Donna Del Oro


  Her mother’s thoughts interrupted Athena’s own: Figlia mia, I do know how hurt you are. Don’t let that pain drive you into another man’s arms. A man who’s not as worthy as young Skoros.

  Confusion morphed into anger as Athena wrestled with that idea. Her mother had never met Dan Grantham! How could she draw conclusions about a man she’d never met? The injustice struck her core of values. So unfair! Her mother didn’t know Dan!

  “Max and John weren’t hurt. Only one of their men suffered an injury, and he’s going to recover.”

  Her father’s deep voice drew her attention back to the attack. The Trojan Horse she’d seen in a vague image had materialized but only as a distraction. She hadn’t seen the entire picture until it was almost too late. This failing bothered her. She’d have to remember that her clairvoyance was not infallible.

  Still, her gift had helped alleviate the damage and saved lives. Of that, she could be proud. One corner of the mansion was scarred and damaged, but fortunately, the attackers, all British nationals, were stopped before they could perfect their aim with their mortars. The second story Grand Ballroom with its full exposure of twenty floor-to-ceiling windows never suffered a direct hit.

  Her mother leaned over and kissed her forehead. The older woman kept sighing deeply and audibly, as if that were the only way she could contain her emotions.

  “Bella figlia mia, you could not have done more. But now you see the absolute good you can do with your God-given gift. You can see what others cannot. That is a gift not to be taken lightly. You saved lives today, remember that. You can continue to save lives. Do you not see it now? The importance of this remarkable gift from God?”

  Athena nodded reluctantly. Well, more of a shrug than a nod, as a small concession to her mother’s philosophy.

  Yet, she wished she wouldn’t have to use it again, at least not in the near future. She wasn’t cut out to be a soldier like Max and John.

  Too scary. Too nerve-racking. Too much bloody responsibility.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  It was two in the morning. Athena let herself into the condo as quietly as she could. The light over the kitchen stove was on as usual in case anyone had to get up during the night. Then she noticed her mother’s dark form in a wing chair in the gloom of the adjacent living room. Athena sighed. There was no need to lie or pretend she’d been up talking art half the night with Dan Grantham. They’d finally reconnected two weeks later when Dan returned to town. They had a wonderful time, Athena treating him to dinner as she’d promised. Later, she’d gone to his place.

  Her mother knew everything. Even before Athena did, it seemed. Now she knew how others felt when their innermost thoughts and emotions could be snatched by another person. The intrusion into their privacy. Athena finally understood how angry that intrusion made people feel. Moreover, as the daughter of a gifted clairvoyant, Athena knew she would never have privacy in her life as long as she lived with her mother.

  She hesitated at the threshold of the stairway leading to their bedrooms. Resentment roiled inside her like a coiled snake and she bit her lower lip to keep herself from lashing out. Her mother meant well—she always did—but good grief, didn’t Athena have the right to grow up and make her own mistakes. In private?

  “’Thena, come here, please, and sit down.”

  The audible sigh of impatience slipped out before Athena took a seat across the room from her mother. Anna clicked on the lamp closest to her.

  “Your father is completely wiped out. He’s asleep.”

  “You should be, too.”

  “I know you’re upset by my intrusion. You’re a young woman—”

  “Really, Mum?” Athena hissed. “Then why am I being treated like a little girl? Why can’t I have a boyfriend of my own choosing? He’s not your cousin’s son, but he understands me. At least, the painter in me.”

  “No doubt, figlia. I realize you’re heartbroken and lonely—“

  Athena groaned and stood up. “Please! I don’t want to hear this!”

  “Kas is in love with you. Just be patient and give him time to do this for his family. For Alex.”

  Fighting back the hot tears took all of Athena’s willpower. “No, no, I don’t want to hear anymore about Kas Skoros and his fucking family. I hate him, and I always will. End of story.”

  “Athena!” Her mother now stood, tightening the sash of her robe, her voice shaking under the strain of this mother-daughter row. “All right, forget about Kas Skoros for the present. If Lorena is correct—and she’s a seer of the bloodline and is always right—your paths will cross again some day. Have your new boyfriend. Have a dozen new boyfriends—”

  “One will do, thank you very much.” Athena’s sarcasm hit the mark.

  Her mother, visibly defeated, slumped back into her chair. “—or this particular one, if it pleases you,” her mother continued. “I hope you enjoyed your date.”

  “Yes, very much,” Athena replied archly.

  “Are you still going through with the pastiche painting?”

  “Mine’s not finished, but yes, I intend to finish it and let them see it. Pastiches are legal, Mum. I know, Father already cautioned me. I’ve researched this company, and everything they do is legal. I wouldn’t do it, otherwise.” She paused and took a deep breath, calmed herself down. “The money is good—if they accept me—and it’ll pay all my expenses during my last year at the Institute. My rent, too, when I move out.”

  “So you know? Your father told you?” Anna turned aside, took up a brandy snifter and cupped it in both palms. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

  Sensing the change in topic, Athena sat back down. Her anger had dissipated enough for her to focus on the upcoming family changes.

  “I read him this morning. Poor Father, he actually looked relieved to have gotten a new posting. And promotion. Consular-General of the Milan delegation is a step up, I daresay. Bravo for Father. And you, Mum. You’re going home. Nana and Zio Giancarlo are close by in Como. What’s not to like?”

  Anna smiled tentatively. “Yes, I love going home to Italy. We’re leaving in two weeks. Chris is coming with us. He’ll attend the International school in Milano, and when he’s ready for university, he can choose to come back here to the States, or go to Cambridge.”

  “And you have to sell the condo,” Athena concluded. Her mother appeared saddened by the prospect, or was she sad to leave her daughter behind in the murder capital of the U.S.? Athena couldn’t help but wonder which of those two things saddened her mother the most. That’s so uncharitable, she admonished herself. And she didn’t mean what she’d called the Skoros family, either. The family was kind and generous. They just had their own old-fashioned way of upholding their honor.

  It was just Kas she had chosen to hate.

  “Yes, I’ll stay until it’s sold. We’ll need the money for some repairs on our old townhouse in London and to buy a car for our weekend trips to Como. The cost of our flat in Milan will be covered by the Foreign Service, grazie a Dio.”

  Athena looked away from her mother. What an emotional night! Though she and Dan hadn’t yet made love, they were on the verge. Why she’d held back thus far, she didn’t know. And now she had to deal with a confrontation with her mother, plus the thought of Chris and Father leaving for Europe, her mother not far behind them. Athena would miss them terribly. Even her brother Chris, she had to admit.

  She turned back and gazed at her mother’s face. There was evidence of concern and worry in the lines of age and the crinkling around her dark eyes. All of a sudden, Athena realized how discontented her parents had been in the States. The realization hadn’t really sunk in before. How could she have missed such an important revelation about her family? Chris had loved his American school and certainly planned to return, but you never knew about him. An engineering degree at either Stanford or Cambridge would probably suit him fine. So, she was going to be without her family for the first time in her life since she was a frightened, traum
atized nine year-old.

  Blimey!

  Fuck!

  Or maybe not.

  The possibilities made her grin.

  She would have the freedom to come and go as she pleased. For the first time in her life. However, with freedom came responsibility. Isn’t that what the Americans always claimed?

  “I’ll be fine, Mum. Mikayla asked me to move in with her. Her boyfriend, Jerry, doesn’t mind. He’s there only part-time, anyway. I’ll have a bedroom to myself and she’s got a big living room with plenty of light and space for a painting corner.”

  She glanced over at her corner in the living room, at the easel, paint supplies and current projects covered with a tarp. How many paintings had she done in that very corner over the past so-many years? Her painting talent had blossomed in that corner. She would miss her little, creative corner.

  On the mantel, two double-hinged, eight-by-ten wooden frames were open, side by side, to reveal photos of the portraits she’d made of Kas and Alex Skoros.

  She frowned and looked away.

  Heartache and more heartache. Would she ever see the Skoros family again? Probably not.

  Her mother leaned forward in her chair and smiled. “You’ll be fine. Lorena says so. Besides, we’ll have our little night visits—“

  The telepathic lucid dreams her mother had told her about. Similar to the one Athena’d had that terrible night when Alex was killed. Until that night of Alex’s and Kas’s car crash, the only telepathic dreams she’d had were shared ones with her mother.

  “Pleasant ones?” Athena inquired with a wry grin.

  “Oh yes, figlia mia. And that one”—Anna pointed to Kas’s portrait—“will watch over you, whether you believe it or not. That telepathic dream you had that horrible night Alex was killed, it means you and Kas have a special connection.”

  Athena shook her head. “I don’t know, Mum.”

  Her mother’s stare was so penetrating that Athena could not look away.

  “That’s his destiny. From what I know about orthodox Greek-Americans, this temporary, platonic marriage between Kas and Alex’s fiancée is not unreasonable. The Skoroses want to insure their access to Alex’s child, which Kas provides by giving the child the Skoros name and becoming his legal father. It is the right solution for the Skoroses, don’t you see that? Something Alex would want for his child.”

  Athena said nothing as she stood up to leave. Temporary? Platonic? My ass! How could Kas say no to lonely, beautiful Nikki? Now Nikki Skoros, his wife—as of yesterday, two o’clock Pacific Standard Time. What redblooded male would turn her down? Certainly not our knight in shining armor, Kas Skoros!

  “I told you, Mum. Kas Skoros is ancient history.”

  Whatever her mother and Lorena had going on, whatever matchmaking or manipulation they had planned, wasn’t going to work.

  Not now, not ever again.

  She bent over and kissed her mother’s forehead. Despite the gift, or curse, they had in common, they still loved each other. They were mother and daughter. Family. Still, the new physical distance between them would be a good thing. Athena felt that deep in her psyche, deep in her heart.

  “Good night, Mum. You and Father, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  As Athena’s lips lingered on her mother’s forehead, her mother’s message came through: I hope and pray that is so, figlia. I hope and pray that is so.

  A word about the author…

  Donna Del Oro lives in Northern California with her husband and three cats. She taught high school and community college English classes for 30+ years and is now happily retired. When not writing novels or reading voraciously, she travels and sings with the medal winning Sacramento Valley Chorus.

  Donna is a member of Capitol Crimes, the Sacramento chapter of Sisters in Crime in addition to the Valleyrose chapter of the RWA. She has judged RITA entries and does developmental editing on the side. Two of her novels, Operation Familia and Born To Sing, have won national and international awards.

  Follow clairvoyant artist Athena Butler in the next book in The Delphi Bloodline series: ATHENA’S QUEST.

  http://www.donnadeloro.com

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