by Helen Scott
The next thing he knew, he’d been in a hospital bed with a searing pain in his left leg. As consciousness slowly seeped back in, so did the awareness of pain throughout his body. The stringent smell of cleaners scoured his nose, and when a nurse came in to check on him, her floral perfume overwhelmed him. A couple coughing fits later, he was able to communicate who he was and where he lived.
Once his own people had been contacted, he’d been flown back to the US to heal. The reality of his situation only hit him as they were transporting him to the plane. He’d lost part of his left leg to frostbite. The surgeon had taken everything below the knee, and he had robotically commanded his new secretary to search for the best in physical therapists and prosthetists she could find. Money wasn’t an obstacle.
The doctor had told him it would be months before he could be fitted for a new limb, but that simply wasn’t acceptable. Neither was the fact that he knew he’d spent weeks being tortured by Poseidon, but only two days had passed in reality. The idea that time moved differently in the god’s home was one that stretched the limits of his mind. Why could he find magical creatures and powers so acceptable, but not the time difference? It was one of the thoughts that plagued his already beleaguered mind.
His anger drove him most days. It was how he learned more about his ability to control rocks. Even having a fancy new ability didn’t stop frostbite, though. He’d still lost his leg. His vengeance turned into a knife point as he met with physical therapists and was fitted for his first prosthesis. Every day had been a fight to get on two feet, to learn to walk again, to rein in his fury so the ground didn’t split beneath his unsteady feet.
A cough sounded, startling him out of his memories. He took a deep breath in lieu of shaking his head, which would make it obvious that he’d zoned out, and decided that they didn’t need to know any of what had happened to him.
“I was transported to Greenland. Alone. Lost on the coast of a freezing foreign country, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and boxers. I’m lucky in a way that the small amount of clothing I was wearing was black. It helped a local fisherman see me and rescue me. As you can see, it was too late for my leg.”
He gestured down to his prosthesis, the lies tasting like metal on his tongue. “It was the side that was constantly getting hit with waves as I wandered along the coast. I’m lucky I didn’t lose both legs or my hands.” He sighed. This was the part he was dreading. The groveling and prostrating himself before the members of the Order. “I understand how you must feel. Believe me, I’ve had plenty of time to think about it as I recovered from surgery. I was selfish. We had a god on a leash and I risked it all to seek vengeance of a theft that was petty in comparison. I apologize to all of you and am willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy.”
The room turned into a volley of hushed whispers. They all stood far enough away that he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, the noise subsided.
“The other members have decided to give you one more chance, due to your loyal service up until this series of unfortunate mistakes. That being said, you are still on probation, and as such will not be assigned another Key until we deem you worthy once more.”
“Thank you, High Brother.” He bowed his head and wanted to spit on the other man’s shoes. “If I may, I have an idea of how I can make this up to the Order.”
The High Brother crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised expectantly.
Taking the silence as permission to continue, Randall said, “If we capture the sirens who have caused us—” A snort from the High Brother had him amending his pitch. “They have caused me such trouble and robbed the Order of some of their brightest opportunities we have had to date, but if we capture them, we can harness the power of their abilities. If they have a song of compulsion like the legends state, then think of what that could mean for us in terms of our business dealings.
“Not only that, but based on Poseidon’s reaction to one of them being locked in the circle with him, I believe that they have some kind of affinity or power over water. I’m not sure how their abilities work, but once we have them, we can exploit them for everything they are worth. Everyone and everything breaks eventually if you find the right pressure points. If the Order would but allow me some leeway and some resources, I believe I can locate them.” By the time he was done, Randall was pacing back and forth as much as his leg would allow.
He had tried to keep his need for retribution locked tight so they didn’t pick up on it, but judging by the High Brother’s expression, he hadn’t done a good job.
“I will leave this up to individual members. You will have to individually petition them for their help. I can tell you that if you fail in this, you will be cast out forever. The Order will not welcome you back. Are you sure that is something you want to risk?”
“Yes, High Brother. I have had time to plan, and I have a strategy that I’m sure will work.” He felt like a kid in school again, having to show his work on a math problem. Except he wasn’t going to give up the details so some other schmuck could take the opportunity out from underneath him.
“Fine.” He glanced behind him, seeming to assess the mood of the other members as he moved to the side so they could see both of them clearly. “Brother Randall’s case has been made and an agreement has been reached. He will be petitioning each of you for help. It is up to you whether or not you give it. No matter what you choose, there will be no repercussions for you.” He turned slightly back toward Randall. “I will save Brother Randall the time of petitioning me. My answer is no. I will not allow you to pull me into another scheme, nor will I risk the health and safety of my Key. Others may assist you as they will.”
That last part had been a sucker punch.
If the High Brother had said he would give him support, then every single member there would have followed in his footsteps. Now it was going to be an uphill battle. Not that he thought it was one he would lose. Hell, he had escaped the clutches of a god and come out even stronger for it. This would not defeat him. He would have his vengeance, and he would rise to the top of the Order because of it.
Chapter 8
The front door flew open. Dem startled at the sound of the wood and glass whooshing outward. He half expected a giant or something similar to come bursting through the door, but all he saw was a petite blonde.
“I need your help. You can’t say no, because there is no one else, not for weeks, so unless you want me to go blind and possibly crazy or even worse, end up lost in a vision or memory, then it’s you. You’re just going to have to pull your big boy pants up and deal with it.” Aster’s voice greeted him as she entered the house.
Dem paused, fork halfway to his mouth, scrambled eggs falling back to the plate.
Aster pushed forward, taking advantage of his shock. “I know what you said before. I know I make you uncomfortable, but I need your help. I asked literally everyone on this island, and no one else can help me, or is even available to ask. Please, Dem.”
It was the tremble in her voice at the end. The slight quiver that she was trying so desperately to hide from him that killed him. He looked her over. Her eyes were puffy, her hands had a white-knuckle grip on the box in her arms, and she was covered in twigs and leaves, making him wonder how long she had been roaming around outside, getting up the courage to come and demand this of him.
“Fine.” The word slipped from his lips like a lead balloon.
Aster’s relief was visible. Her spine, which had been stick straight, was now more relaxed as she blinked away what he was sure were tears. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that she had been so shaken when she came in. He knew better.
“Eggs?” he asked, gesturing to the pale-yellow clouds on his plate.
She shook her head. “Can we just go?” She set the box down on the kitchen counter, chewing on her bottom lip.
Something like that shouldn’t turn him on, but it was Aster. Everything about her was like catnip to him. He took a deep brea
th, awareness spreading through him as his own emotions came out to play.
This could go a few different ways. It could be awkward if the gods remembered what happened the last time he was there, or it could be completely fine if they had forgotten or no longer cared, or it could be something else completely. If he had a choice, he would still opt out of this mission, but it seemed the choice had already been made for him. Shoving a last bite of the eggs into his mouth, he emptied the rest into the trash and placed the dish in the sink. He took a swig of water from the glass that had been sitting on the counter, the condensation making the outside cool and wet to his touch.
By the gods, he didn’t want to go to Olympus. She needed him, though, so he’d step foot in the realm of the gods even though it was something he swore he’d never do again. He’d been terrified the first time, but his anger had burned so hot that he was able to ignore it. This time was even scarier, though, since he was taking Aster with him. He just couldn’t say no to her.
“Okay, let’s go. Just as a heads-up, last time I was there, I got kicked out. I’m not going to go into details, so don’t ask, but I’m not sure how they will react when we get there.”
He glanced down and could see the fire of curiosity burning inside her, but when she nodded at him, something inside him unfurled a little more, glad that she accepted this boundary even though she didn’t want to. He placed his hand on her shoulder and wrapped more than just the regular filaments of the mortal universe around him. This time, he wrapped the filaments that led to other realms.
Travel between realms wasn’t easy for anyone except a god. It wasn’t meant to be, but it frustrated the hell out of Dem. Each filament was a lead pipe that he had to bend to his will, until finally he had enough that obeyed his command and they landed on Mount Olympus.
His breath sucked in as he allowed them both to be fully present, letting go of the bindings that had brought them there. He’d forgotten how the air was scented. It was full of spices and nectar, but was fresh and cool at the same time. The weather, as usual, was perfect. Glancing down at Aster, he remembered how mind-bending this place could be on the first visit.
Her amber eyes were wide as she took in every little detail. Each waterfall, tree, sculpture, building, it was all being absorbed by her liquid gold orbs.
“They’re floating!” Her voice was an astounded whisper.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Not what you expected, is it?”
“I guess I had kind of thought it would be all pearly gates and statues of Zeus and shit, but this is so much more.”
“And not a pearly gate in sight.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “There is only one entrance to Mount Olympus from the mortal realm unless you live here, so we’ve got a walk ahead of us.”
He led the way, his hand tightly clasped around her own. He wasn’t about to let some horny god snatch her up. When they reached the edge of the first island, she stopped, her hand slipping from his.
“How do we cross? I mean, Dem, the islands are floating in the air. I can see the rock underneath them, and the waterfalls, they just run off into nothingness. How does this even exist?”
Looking with fresh eyes at the realm that was Mount Olympus, it was easy to be in awe of the structures. The islands hung in the sky, some bigger than others, the primary island holding the meeting place of the gods, as well as Zeus’ own home.
The visible buildings were all different kinds of architecture. Some were built when the gods were worshiped, and some were built much later, or remodeled to be more fashionable. Every god, goddess, spirit, creature, and nymph had a home here, unless they were members of the Underworld, in which case their home was there.
The city was a sprawling thing. On first view, he hadn’t understood that, but as he’d begun to walk it on his last visit, he’d realized how vast it was. The bridges that existed between islands were unnerving, as there was nothing under them but clouds, but some of the islands weren’t connected at all, so one had to either have wings or be able to teleport to get there.
“It exists because it always has. The gods and magic live and thrive here. This is one of the sources of all magic. Not the only one, but probably a primary one. And we cross on bridges, like this one,” he said as they approached the first stony walkway. “Or I can fly us around.”
“Are the bridges safe?” Aster asked, hanging back.
“They should be.” Dem shrugged and stepped out onto the bridge, jumping up and down on it, to her dismay. “Come on, we need to get moving.”
She hesitantly put one foot in front of the other as they made their way across the first bridge. They progressed as quickly as they could to the center island, earning stares and whispers along the way. It didn’t help that he had obviously brought an outsider to the realm. The people, and creatures, who lived there tended to be kind of judgmental about such things.
“I feel like I’m wearing jeans at a black-tie party. Why is everyone staring at us?” she hissed over his shoulder.
“Because they know you’re from the mortal realm.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, before adding, “You could’ve warned me!”
“Sorry, I didn’t think it would be as busy as it is.”
“We’ve only seen a couple people!”
He shrugged. The last time he’d been there, he hadn’t seen a soul until he got to the main island. It was quite eerie to experience the majority of the city being empty, only to find everyone gathered in the exact place you were going for a completely different reason. Talk about crashing the party.
They got to the edge of the island they were currently crossing, only to find the bridge was out. It had apparently crumbled away in the middle.
“Ready to fly?” he asked, turning to her.
Chapter 9
Aster’s heart skipped a beat. “Fly?”
“The bridge is out and I can’t jump us anywhere while we are here, so unless you want to turn around, we fly.”
He was such a curmudgeon. A flash of memory of their weekend together reminded her that he could be completely different. Sure, he’d been quiet, but he hadn’t been as surly or as abrupt with her.
“Flying it is.” She gulped down a breath of air as a wave of nervousness sailed through her body.
Dem shook his shoulders, and giant dove-gray wings appeared. He flexed them open and stretched. The man was beautiful, and the wings only enhanced it. She knew they should scare her, turn her off, or freak her out, but all she wanted to do was touch them, touch him. The sensation had her taking a step forward before she could restrain herself. As he turned, the light hit his feathers in a different way, and they almost looked more like a soft blue than gray, as though there was a slight iridescence to them.
He held out his hand to her, and as she slipped her hand into his, the heat of his skin punched into her own once more. With a tug, she was suddenly against him, able to feel the rock-hard planes of his chest and, as she casually dropped her hand from his chest, the tight washboard abs on his stomach.
Gods, how she’d missed his body. Touching it like this, knowing it was all she could have, was enough to make her want to scream in frustration. The heat that had come from his hand was overwhelmed by the warmth that radiated from his body. She wanted to nuzzle against him, feeling like a cat in a sunbeam. An arm wrapped around her, clutching her to him as the other arm held the box containing her blanket. She could feel his body flex as they took off, his muscles moving against her in a delicious way that had her thinking about all the other ways he could move against her.
Aster tried her best to keep her thoughts PG, or at the very least PG-13, but they kept dipping into the R category. When they flew over the area where the bridge should have been, all thoughts left her head. There was just clouds below them. If she looked straight down, she couldn’t even see the amazing floating islands. The thing was, the clouds almost looked solid, like if he dropped her, she would just land in a squishy, fluffy mounta
in. Before she could dwell on any of it, they were on the other side and he was setting her down.
It was the shortest roller coaster ride of her life, but that didn’t stop the adrenaline pumping through her system. She lingered against Dem a little longer than necessary while she tried desperately to resist the urge to reach out and touch the beautiful wings that had just carried her over the clouds. He stepped away, sensing that she wasn’t about to, and the cool spiced air of Mount Olympus wrapped around her once more.
The ambient temperature was perfect—the shining sun, the clouds all below the islands, everything was idyllic. She glanced up and saw the islands were sometimes connected, not just through bridges, but through plant life. Vines had somehow crawled from tree to tree on the islands that existed closer to one another than she thought safe.
As she brought her gaze back down, her brain was finally able to focus on something other than the man she had been lusting after for months. This island was covered in trees and moss, with water running somewhere in the distance. A giant building took up the space a little ways in front of them. Its big, creamy domed roof connected to sandy-colored pillars that seemed to go into the ground. The outer edge of the building was open to the air, while the center was walled off with more pillars and glass. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.
Music drifted to her ears. The melody was gorgeous, but she couldn’t figure out what instrument was creating the sound. As they walked past the building, she found herself veering off toward the song. As she approached, she could see that there was a recession in the ground at the edge of the open-air part of the building. It was just a few steps but enough to make it feel like she’d entered a different area. The building within had a waterfall coming from the ceiling, splashing into a pool that looked more like a lake than something she would see in a courtyard. The edge was made out of natural stones, some of which women were sitting on, relaxing, while their feet dangled into the water below.