Hate: Goddesses of Delphi Book 5 (Goddesses of Delphi Paranormal Romance)

by Gemma Brocato

  He was like Agamemnon, Hitler or Nero. A wannabe despot who cared nothing about the fate of his subjects. He was so far removed from Zeus’s benevolent style it was frightening.

  Aerie banged her fists on the table. “Get the hell out of my booth, Pierus.” She pointed toward the door. Around her, the patrons of the bar fell silent. Quickly, she blew them a kissy suggestion to ignore her, and then hurled her own prediction at Pierus. “You won’t win. And when we’re finished with you, you’ll wish you’d left well enough alone. Karma is a bitch. Now. Go!” The guttural command in her voice shocked her.

  Before Pierus could rise to his feet, a mountain of a man stumbled over. “Are you okay, Aerie?” Finn asked. He set his beer on the table, jammed his fists on his hips.

  This day just kept getting better and better. “I’m fine, Detective. You can go about your business.” She narrowed one eye at him, a partial wink, and tossed a nudge his direction.

  After one hard blink, he ignored her suggestion. He pinned Pierus with a flinty stare. “I believe the lady asked you to leave.”

  Confusion crossed the old deity’s face. He studied Finn as if memorizing him. “I know you,” he declared. He tipped his head toward Finn, but lasered his gaze on Aerie. “And so it begins.” His frown was replaced by a knowing smirk.

  Finn? Pierus was pairing her up with the grumpy cop? Shoot me now.

  “Nope, never met you.” Finn leveled a finger at Pierus’s nose. Something flickered in his eyes, something Aerie didn’t like. “Are you going to leave, or shall I call a squad to come pick you up?”

  Pierus waved Finn’s hand away then slid from the booth. Finn positioned himself next to Aerie, close enough the heat from his body warmed the cold spot left from Pierus’s words about her father’s health.

  Before he left, Pierus leaned back over the table. “You have until midnight tomorrow to decide. If you choose the wrong path, your challenge will begin immediately.” With a last hard look at Finn, he brushed past, and left the bar.

  Finn settled on the bench across from her. “Want to tell me what that was all about? Pretty sure I heard talk of killing.” His words came out a little slurred, his eyelids half-closed.

  She wanted to bang her forehead on the table. This human had just confronted a powerful immortal. And had survived.

  The man was charmed. But not charming.

  Five

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I’ve had a little to drink, so sue me.” Finn curled his fingers into a fist and rested it near her tea cup.

  His hand was swollen, a result of punishing the heavy bag for an hour at the Olympiad. His limbs were as strong as noodles at the moment, but it hadn’t stopped him from racing to Aerie’s rescue. Or maybe that was the booze talking. Right after he’d left the gym, he’d stopped for a drink. One drink became two, became six, then eight. He’d never blacked out drunk, so maybe this should become his default condition. Flicking a gaze toward her face, he saw a concerned shadow skate over her delicate features.

  Her sympathy made him want to swat away her worry.

  She pushed her mug toward him, nudging it against his fingers. “Why?”

  “Why sue me?”

  “No, why are you drinking? What do you want to forget?”

  He pursed his lips, and studied his hands. For a moment, he considered not answering. Finally, he dragged his gaze to her face. “It’s been a shit day.”

  “Did drinking help matters?” Aerie lifted her hand toward the bar, and curled her fingers toward her palm, as if beckoning someone. She mouthed the word water. Finn leaned out of the booth to see Stella reach above her head and snag a glass. Aerie turned her attention back to him. What had she asked? Something about drinking.

  A rueful smile jerked at the corners of his mouth. “Probably not. But it dulled the pain a little. Just so much fucking hate in this world.”

  She tensed at his words. Maybe she didn’t like bad language. Better watch his tongue. He didn’t want to offend her. Honestly, he’d much rather just take her to bed and forget his anger in her soft, pliant body.

  Scrubbing her fingers over the wrinkles creasing her brow, Aerie asked, “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  Stella delivered two glasses of water and another metal teapot to the table. Aerie’s smiled thanks lit up the darkest corner of Finn’s soul.

  After expelling a heavy sigh, he spoke. “Not sure how it will help me to regale you with details of how a man filled with hate and aggression beat his wife to death.” Aerie flinched at the harshness in his voice.

  She touched a fingertip to his swollen knuckles and he’d swear she’d delivered a spark of…something.

  A smidgeon of tension left his shoulders, and the muscles in his cheeks relaxed, as if the perma-scowl he knew he wore had finally eased. Suddenly thirsty, he reached for his water, and took a long draught.

  When he set the glass aside, he dragged a thumbnail over a scar on the wood. “The day of Frank Morgan’s wedding, I missed the ceremony. Anson and I got a call about a woman we’ve helped in the past.” His voice dropped to a mumble. Aerie’s nose twitched as she leaned forward, straining to hear. Finn found it difficult to drag his attention away from her cute, scrunched up face. “She was in the emergency room because she hadn’t cleaned up the breakfast dishes by the time he got home from his Saturday golf game.” His words came slow and lazy, his head lolled to one side. Maybe I did drink a little too much. He drove steel into his spine, righted the position of his head, and concentrated on the table.

  Aerie swept her finger on the back of his hand, and he felt another spark. It journeyed as calm up his arm, but by the time it reached his dick, it had changed, hitting his libido like a jolt of undeniable lust.

  He ordered his unruly cock to behave, and focused on his sad tale. “She’d been pretty, six months ago. That Saturday, she had two black eyes, and a cut lip.” Meredith’s arm was in a sling because her shitty husband shoved her so hard against the refrigerator, he snapped her collarbone. “Anse and I tried to get her to take refuge at Sojourn House, but she wouldn’t go. So we drove her to her mother’s house and left her there.”

  “That’s why you made that remark about donating money to the women’s shelter.”

  He nodded. “They do good work.” His shoulders slumped, defeated, and he scrubbed his hand over his bristly chin. “Anyway, Meredith dropped the charges a few days later. Moved back in with her shi…dirtbag husband, claiming he’d changed.” Finn swallowed hard, forcing bile back the way it had come. “She was dead wrong. And now, she’s just dead.” His drunken chuckle was filled with bitterness. “He’d hit her so many times with his nine-iron she was unrecognizable.”

  “Oh, Finn!” Her face had softened as he’d revealed his grief. “If only I’d had a chance to know her before she married him.”

  Finn scoffed. “How the hell would meeting you make a difference?”

  Aerie’s violet eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. “I have a persuasive way of talking to people.” She pursed her lips, as if asking to be kissed. Her soft breath bathed his face and he lost his train of thought. Concentrating on her mouth, he leaned across the expanse of wood between them, fully aware of equally hard wood in his pants. If he could just capture her mouth, maybe the condition of his body would ease.

  Who was he kidding? One touch of her lips would make him want to drive into her, burying himself in her sweet heat, forgetting every shitty detail of the past week. But she hadn’t given any indication she returned his interest. Best to shove the burgeoning desire back into the genie’s lantern. Because he probably had no chance of convincing her she wanted him the same way.

  He relaxed against the leather bench and yanked his attention back to the conversation. “There’s no talking to bullies. They are who they are. Every single one of them should be locked up. I’d have started with my own father.” A sneer curled his top lip as he lifted his hips enough to push his fingers into his pants pocket. His keys jang
led as he pulled them free. “Thanks for pretending you care. I’m going home.”

  She shot her hand across the table to grip his arm. “Hang on. I wasn’t pretending. And you’re in no condition to drive.” A current of awareness swept through him as her palm connected to the bare skin revealed by his rolled-up shirtsleeves.

  Fire climbed his chest and he drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t need your help. I’m fine.” Circling his fingers around her wrist, he pulled her hand free. He stood, wobbled, then steadied himself on the back of the booth.

  Aerie tucked her finger into the ring of keys and, in a surprise move, jerked them away. “I can’t let you drive. I’ll call a cab for you.”

  “No cab. It’s only a couple of miles. I’ll walk.” His eyelids drifted down. He turned and moved a step away.

  Tingling pressure hit between his shoulder blades. Not the kind he associated with a coming black out, but it still felt like his will was being stripped away. Without warning, his legs stopped working. They were heavier than deadweight, as if his feet were encased in blocks of concrete. The sensation was dizzying. Weaving a little, he glanced down to double check he was still wearing dress shoes, and not cement galoshes. He looked over his shoulder at her. The look of determination in her glowing blue eyes was unmistakable. She wasn’t going to let him walk out without her help.

  “Are you afraid I’ll find another bar to stop at? Or maybe you’ve heard about my temper issues? Is that it? You don’t want to leave the angry man on his own to accost someone?” he taunted. He commanded his tired legs to turn him around, and they barely complied. Once he faced her, he feinted as if he’d lunge at her. When she didn’t shy away, confusion misted his brain. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

  “I’ve seen scarier things than you.”

  “Maybe, princess. But you haven’t really seen me mad. I’ve heard it’s a spectacle.”

  A scowl etched itself between her brows. “I’m sure I could handle it. My father can bring down mountains when he’s pissed at someone.” She brightened, sending him a sunny smile. “I’m sure you’ll be on your best behavior. Wouldn’t want to leave a bad impression with the…what did you just call me? Princess?” Her amused expression told him she was toying with him. “I prefer goddess, if you don’t mind.”

  It made him contrite, and almost eager to put any concerns she might have to rest. “You don’t have to worry. I rarely black out when I’m drunk. I’m thinking about staying drunk for a long time.” It was a plan. A stupid one, but at least he felt like he had a course of action.

  “Finn, can’t you just accept my help? When I see someone who needs a hand, and I can provide it, you can bet I’m going to offer.” Aerie scurried to dump all her files into her tote bag. The cover on her tablet slapped as she closed it. She jammed it into her bag as well. Grabbing everything, she stood.

  “I don’t take charity.” He had, at one point. Back when his mother had taken his douchebag old man’s punishment, and defended his behavior. He’d moved in with a buddy’s family. The man of that house hadn’t been much better than his dad.

  “Then let’s not call it charity. Let’s call it a random act of kindness.” She drew alongside him, and tucked her arm through the crook of his elbow. Shit, that felt so right. She nudged him forward. “Let’s go. We’ll take my car.”

  The heaviness in his legs eased and he teetered forward, feeling almost weightless in response. Aerie dragged him toward the door, stopping only long enough to drop a twenty on the bar.

  “Thanks, Stella.”

  Stella lifted her chin toward Finn. “You got him?” she asked.

  Aerie flashed thumbs up at the bartender. “I’ll get him home safely.”

  “Standing right here,” he bitched. He dropped Aerie’s arm and aimed for the exit.

  Aerie hurried after him. “Hey, wait up.”

  Cool air blasted him in the face as they walked toward the parking area. It was just sobering enough to remind him of his duty as a cop. “Got to stop at my vehicle for a second. My firearm is in the glove box. Can’t leave it overnight.” He went for the keys in her hand.

  She jerked out of reach. “Which car is yours? I’ll get it for you. That Jetta is mine. I’ll meet you there.” She aimed her fob at the silver car parked under a light. The car locks chirped and lights flashed.

  Using her momentary distraction, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and his fingers around her hand. “No one touches my weapon but me.” The weapon in his jeans jerked at the contact with her abdomen. He did his best to ignore the physical reaction as he tugged the keys from her grip, but didn’t release his hold on her.

  He couldn’t, because, damn, she felt glorious in his embrace. Her body was soft, svelte, and sinful. He’d never wanted a woman more in his life. Focusing on her mouth, he lowered his head, intent on claiming her parted lips. Just another millimeter and he’d taste the nectar he knew he’d find there.

  She stiffened in his arms. He never felt her raise her hand, but he found himself shoved backward.

  He stumbled, then righted himself. “What the hell?”

  “You’re not the only one having a shit day. I didn’t ask for you to attack me.”

  “Lady, that wasn’t me attacking. That was me seducing.”

  Aerie huffed out a breath, looked away for a moment, then faced him again. “Well, just stop it. Kissing you would flat out be a huge mistake. I can’t get involved with you, even if it seems pre-ordained.”

  Shifting his feet wide, he cocked his head. “You’re not crazy about me, are you?” He couldn’t blame her. He’d been a seething mess of anger and hate the night they’d met. He hadn’t been very civil. Then when he’d tried to change her first impression of him, Martin Pappa-whatshisname had looked at Finn like he was worse than pond scum. He hadn’t been able to recall a single social nicety after that.

  “You haven’t given me a reason to like you.” She chewed her lip, then blew out a soft breath.

  The spot at the base of his skull throbbed, like a signal to his brain to settle down and play nice. He didn’t understand the urge to smile at her. He spun toward his Bronco and stalked away. There was so much more he wanted to say, but it felt like his brain would refuse to talk to his vocal chords to voice his thoughts.

  Jamming the key into the slot gave him little satisfaction. He derived even less from viciously twisting the key to the right. The lock popped and a second later, he jerked the door open. He quickly unlocked the glove compartment and dragged out the box holding his firearm.

  When he slammed the door shut, he recognized he was behaving like a bratty kid. With the lockbox under his arm, he rolled his head side-to-side, trying to ease the tension.

  Facing her, he was surprised to note horror on her face, her gaze intently pinned on the gun safe tucked against his side. “What?” He scanned the lot, but found no threats.

  “I don’t like guns.”

  “Sometimes, guns are the only things holding the line between good and evil.”

  The clenching of her fists was a good indication of what she thought about the idea.

  “We should go.” Aerie’s voice was a soft brush on his consciousness.

  “Yeah.” Rubbing a hand over the ache in his neck, he followed her across the lot.

  Folding his legs into the small vehicle was doubly uncomfortable, given the unceasing nature of his arousal. The crotch of his dress pants snugged against his woody, reminding him that he sat next to a woman he desired, but who truly wanted nothing to do with him. Other than reciting his address, and occasionally telling her where to turn, silence ruled the ten-minute ride to his house. Casting side-eye glances her direction, Finn observed her taut, stern features. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

  She’d said she wasn’t afraid of him, so this was, no doubt, a sign she was irate with his pissy behavior. She was just trying to help and he was being a colossal jerk.

  Anger at himself and his inability to fix this rift between the
m grew as his buzz wore off. In his chest, dreaded pressure built. He concentrated on pulling in slow, calming breaths, fighting back the feeling of being suffocated by the giant seething hole blooming in his head.

  Pulse pounding…anger demanding release, he clutched the oh-shit bar above the window as Aerie turned the corner onto his street. Rundown houses lined the street, most with overgrown bushes.

  “I remember this neighborhood. It used to be a real showcase. Where everyone with young families wanted to live,” Aerie commented as she drove down the block. “It looks…aged. Kind of sad.”

  Finn seized on the topic, glad to have something to take his mind off the reeling in his head, the fugue coming for him. “Most of the kids have grown and moved away. Just old folks left. Throw-aways.”

  “What do you mean?” He felt more than saw her fast glance.

  He continued staring out the window. “Kids have lives of their own, so the parents become afterthoughts. Like they no longer have anything to offer. Makes them easy to discard.” Like yesterday’s garbage. “I take care of the yards on either side of me, and across the street.

  “That’s nice of you.”

  He shrugged. “Mr. Stone, across the street, has a heart condition. Mrs. Jolly is widowed and living with reduced income. She can’t afford to pay someone to help and she shouldn’t be doing it herself. That’s my house, the cream one with green shutters.” He pointed to the left.

  Aerie pulled into the drive. She cut the motor and stared at his house.

  Hoping his focus on something external might hold at bay his deteriorating mental condition, he studied at the house as if through Aerie’s eyes. His was one of the nicer homes on the block. The yard was tidy, the bushes well groomed, the leaves from the sugar maple tree raked and piled into yard waste bags by the garage door.

  He pointed to the house on the right. “A single mom with a couple kids live next door. They’ve had a rough time since the dad left them. But, to be honest, they are better off without the SOB.” His gut twisted and cramped just talking about Lily and her two sons.