Shafted

by Kymber Morgan

  The bastard had canned him!

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you crazy? God I thought you were hurt. I just wanted make sure you were okay and you freaking attack me!”

  With the bells of Hades ringing in his ears, it took a minute for Anteros to realize it wasn’t ‘Dead Soul Speak’ wailing at him, but what sounded suspiciously like the annoying screech of a mortal female.

  What was a mortal doing here? He must still be drunk. That was it. He’d heard enough Ambrosia could make you think things were real, which must be true because he could swear the apparition fidgeting a few feet away was really there.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you going to be okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you caught me off guard when you grabbed me. Scared me, you know?”

  Anteros braved another glimpse, cracking one eye open; yup, an ugly one to be sure, but a mortal female nonetheless. She hadn’t come any closer probably to stay out of range should he retaliate. Smart girl, but he could hear the genuine regret and concern in her voice.

  “Mister? Hey really, are you going to be okay? Should I call for help? A doctor or something?”

  His tongue might as well have been coated in cement for all the good it did him. “In fin, unky dorky. Kint you till? Jus gim me a sick to gatch my bret.”

  “Excuse me I didn’t quite get that.”

  He flopped over onto his back, hoping his lungs would remember what to do with the first full breath of air they’d gotten in what seemed like an eternity, and cleared his throat to try again. “I’m fine, hunky dory. Can’t you tell? Just give me a second to catch my….”

  The last word formed on his lips, but as his eyes focused, he lost track of what he was saying. He was snared by a pair of green eyes fringed in enough frost to stick their edges together, giving them a disturbing mismatched shape. They were peering at him out of a blotchy pink face, complete with a hint of chapped lips, a runny nose and a mess of icicle spiked hair sticking out in every direction like some frozen parody of Medusa.

  She was beautiful.

  Huh? Where the Hades had that come from? What in the Nine Hells was wrong with him?

  As though struck by a God-bolt, his memory came crashing back and with it the truth of how he ended up here.

  He hadn’t been drinking with Charon at all. No, he’d been coming in after a particularly painful fix of another of his brother’s careless mistakes…. Suddenly the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, filling him with an overwhelming sense of dread and anger.

  The miserable little shit shafted him! HIS OWN BROTHER!

  He’d barely entered his temple home on Olympus when something behind one of the marble columns had caught his eye. He lived alone, and rarely did any care to visit, so he immediately recognized the movement for the threat it was.

  He remembered reaching behind his shoulder with one hand and bringing his black titanium bow to bear with the other, but not fast enough. Flickering torchlight caught a golden flash flying straight at – no, through – him. Anger turned to bitterness as the memory played across his mind.

  As darkness pulled him under, Eros had emerged from the shadows, still holding his own glistening bow, a triumphant grin on his handsome face. Not a moment later their mother had materialized directly behind him, her face void of emotion, but her words had said it all.

  “Perfect shot, my son, you’ve done well.”

  He’d been shafted all right. The love of Psyche, Eros’s wife, had proven too much for his brother, causing his fall to ambro-fever, an irreversible condition many gods developed after an overload of what they personified. The result in Eros’s case was him periodically running amok, so drunk on love he couldn’t see, let alone shoot straight, willy-nilly nailing any poor sucker who got in his path.

  It had fallen to Anteros as the God of Requited Love to run damage control by canceling out his brother’s diamond-tipped silver arrows with his opposing obsidian-tipped lead ones. Instead of being the final reckoning for those who deliberately preyed on the hearts of others, it became his job to save mortals suddenly in love against their will with people who would never love them in return. Anteros was the only one able to free Eros’s shooting-spree victims but it meant absorbing their heartache as his own to do it.

  And what thanks did he get for spending the last several centuries drawing in and carrying the pain of all those hearts? His beloved brother, the one at fault in the first place, shot him - and on their mother’s orders no less! And not with just any arrow either. No, it had to be one of his thrice cursed golden ones. His fate was sealed.

  Within twenty-four Olympian hours, roughly one week on earth, his heart would be hopelessly lost to the first creature to cross his path. Anteros’s eyes were involuntarily drawn back to the lumpy-limbed figure in front of him. He could feel the pull starting already. Hades Balls! He’d imprinted on the hideous creature with the rubbery feet and runny nose. A mortal! A groan escaped his pursed lips. Why a mortal and why’d it have to be so damn ugly?

  Anteros’ heart bashed up against his chest wall and the last of his fog cleared. Zeus’s beard, they might as well have condemned him to eternal torture in the lowest levels of Tartarus as this.

  He was doomed. With the use of a golden arrow, not only was his heart forfeit, his soul would soon be irrevocably tied to hers. When she died, she’d take him with her.

  Not only had they ruined his life, they’d killed him by robbing him of his immortality!

  Anteros couldn’t decide which was worse, the burning in his heart from the arrow’s path, the hole in it from the enormity of his family’s betrayal, or the fact he would never know a moment’s freedom from the monstrous ice encased mortal currently hopping from one foot to the other screeching like a banshee as she hovered over him.

  “Hey Mister? I’m sorry, really. Oh gosh, what can I do? Can I help you up maybe? Do you need a doctor? Or is there someone else I can call?”

  The concern in her eyes pulled on his heart strings and, to his horror, other things as well. Stupid arrow was working all right.

  “Who are you? Can you tell me your name?”

  Uh, tell her his name? Come to think of it, probably not. Hmm, let’s see, how did one explain such things to a mortal?

  Hello, I’m a pissed off god who’s been shot with the equivalent of a super love potion slash aphrodisiac by ‘Stupid Cupid’ and you, you lucky thing, are now the target of my every superhuman desire. Something, by the way, that will build in potency to a point I’ll no longer be able to resist and will very likely jump all over you. Which really isn’t working for me because the second I do, the arrow’s magic will pierce you too - lovely little golden bugger that it is - and you’ll fall for me against your will. In turn, my immortality goes up in smoke and I’ll die the second you do.

  Oh and since you asked, my name is Anteros, God of Love Returned, Dread Avenger of Unrequited Love, brother of Eros and son of Aphrodite and Ares. Let’s have sex right now. How do you like me so far?

  Oh, yeah, that should go over real well.

  Chapter 3

  It was official, the Universe hated her. Why else would this be happening?

  Not only does she trip over the most delectable example of the male of the species she’d ever seen in her life moments after she’d sworn off men, what does she do? She kicks him...well...there. Not that he hadn’t scared the be-jeepers out of her or anything, but still; she wasn’t normally a violent person, a bit testy sometimes maybe, but not violent.

  What in the world was he doing lying out here in the snow anyway? Didn’t Mr. Luscious have any sense? He could’ve frozen to death for Pete’s sake. He’s lucky she came along, even if he didn’t seem to think so at the moment. Well, since he was still trying to catch his breath and hadn’t been able to get up off the ground yet, he probably had reason to think her coming across him wasn’t so lucky.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  He reached up and rubbed his hands over his face
– beautifully shaped hands with long strong fingers – so she didn’t catch his answer at first.

  “Mmm, Ter Nandrs, atter zvise.”

  Either he had to start to annunciate more clearly or her ears were freezing up. “Sorry?”

  He pulled his hands away and looked up at her with sink-into-forever dark eyes which, to her disgust, sent her stomach off into a little jig.

  “Teran Anders, at your service.”

  Oh crap, he had a voice to match the rest of the package, deep and velvety with a sexy as hell accent she couldn’t quite place.

  He started to stand and faltered. “Hold on there, let me help you.” Callie instinctively dove in, ducking beneath his arm and leveraging her body to support him - bringing her up close and personal. He was a good foot taller than her; rare for a woman of nearly six feet tall and she couldn’t help notice the mix of fresh air and his personal scent had her mouth practically watering.

  Oh yeah, the Universe was definitely messing with her.

  He stumbled again, his lips had a blue tinge and his face was alarmingly pale. “Okay, come on. The path up to the top is this way. We need to get you somewhere warm. Then we’ll decide if you need a doctor. Do you live close by? And how did you end up out here in the first place?”

  He went stiff and seemed to expand, then with a deep breath, he dropped his head forward effectively hiding his face behind a curtain of black silk and was back to leaning on her as they slowly struggled toward the pathway she’d come down less than an hour before.

  “I, uh, remember getting into a fight with my brother and deciding to have a couple of drinks to cool off. Yeah, uh, guess I must’ve indulged too much and like an idiot thought some fresh air would fix me up. I think maybe, I must’ve fallen asleep, but don’t really remember.”

  Something in his tone didn’t ring true, but it really wasn’t any of her business so Callie chose to leave it alone. Besides, they’d started their climb up the hill and she’d need all her breath to get them both to the top. By the time they were in sight of the welcoming lights of the B & B, he was doing better and could manage under his own steam.

  What did it say about her that she missed him leaning on her? Idiot, that’s what. Before she could beat herself up anymore, she noticed he wasn’t beside her anymore. He stopped a few feet back and was looking down the lane-way toward the main road.

  “I guess I should be on my way, I appreciate your help but I don’t want to be any more of a pain, so if you’ll point me in the direction of the nearest town and tell me how far it is, I’ll leave you with my thanks.”

  Cute did not make up for stupid. Another argument for her ‘who needs a man’ stand.

  “Are you nuts? First, how is it you don’t know how far the nearest town is? It’s the only one around here for miles. Second, unless you have a car hidden under that duster, you aren’t going anywhere. It’s already below zero and dropping fast. Third, you’re lips are blue for heaven’s sake. You need to warm up. I didn’t drag you all the way up that hill so you could freeze to death a mile down the road.”

  The stubborn ox wrinkled his brow and crossed his arms over his chest, appearing to puff up more than her jacket. “I can assure you, I’m tougher than I look at the moment. I’ll make it if you point the way. It’s not that cold yet.”

  “Argh men!” She grabbed her hood with her mitten encased hands but found it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as pulling her hair. “Look don’t be an idiot, I’ll drive you in once you’ve warmed up and had something to eat, unless there’s someone you’d rather I call to come pick you up.” Night had fallen but it wasn’t dark enough yet to miss the thundercloud that passed over his face.

  “No, there’s no one.”

  He’d gone so still it was hard to tell him apart from the ice sculpture gracing the back deck of the bed and breakfast. Slightly unnerved by how completely motionless he’d gone, Callie instinctively softened her voice. “What about your brother, I know you said you’d had a fight, but surely he’s worried about you by now?”

  Reanimation returned to his frame with a derisive shrug of his broad shoulders. “Ha! I don’t think so. I’d be surprised if he even stuck around.”

  The snarl in his voice and haunted look on his face startled her. True, Callie and her mom had issues, but obviously nothing compared to this man and his brother, and the scowl aimed her way, spoke loud and clear. It was none of her business.

  Fine, he could have it his way. To get him moving in the right direction again, she retook her place under his arm and muttered under her breath. “Must be a real sweetheart, your brother.”

  A rumble somewhere between a laugh and a growl bubbled up from deep in his chest and tickled its way down into hers, startling and confusing her at the same time.

  “Sweetheart? You have no idea.”

  Chapter 4

  Stuck in his corporeal form with no way to shift back, Anteros was no longer imperious to mortal fatigue and the persistent female had insisted he needed to rest the night before she’d drive him into whatever town was close by. The warm fire, hot stew and her constant chatter worked their magic and he’d finally given in taking a room down the hall from her for the night. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go.

  On his own in the sunny breakfast room the next morning, under the inquisitive eye of the owner puttering away trying to look busy at the front desk, he managed to feed himself without too much difficulty. Solid food wasn’t something he usually needed but he had indulged a few times so he only dropped his fork twice.

  He took a sip of the coffee he’d discovered could be made palatable by dumping a ton of sugar and cream in and glanced at the stairs for the hundredth time. He was actually beginning to fidget by the time his little mortal finally made an appearance and if the pull from the arrow’s magic hadn’t told him it was her, he wouldn’t have believed it. There was no sign of the puff monster from the night before.

  “Zeus’s....”

  “Pardon me?” Her hair was no longer frozen in clumpy ropes but swept up in a big thick knot of amber gold at the back of her head, a few curls free to frame her face and she’d lost all but the important and very desirable lumps from her frame.

  “Huh?”

  Without all the blotches, her face had a soft glow to it and her deep green eyes sparkled in the morning sun shining through the windows. She tilted her head and grinned at him as though he were a child who didn’t quite understand spoken words yet.

  “Hello. Wakey, wakey. You were saying something as I walked up?”

  “I was? Oh, right. Zeus’s...I mean...juices, that’s it. Yes, the juice is really good. You should try it.” Great, now he was stammering like a little kid, but he couldn’t get over how different she was without the layers of padding and frost.

  She walked past him toward the breakfast selections on feet half the size of the rubber ones from the night before. His eyes were drawn to the long line of her back and naturally followed the length to the shapely denim encased bottom below.

  “Thanks, but I’m running a little late for an appointment, so I’m just going to grab a muffin for the road. Once you’ve squared up with Mrs. Turnbull I can take you into town.”

  Anteros heart skipped once and his stomach sunk a few inches. Square up; as in pay? Uh oh, he hadn’t thought about that. The few times he’d chosen to go corporeal his god powers had stayed in tact and he was still able create whatever he wanted out of thin air, including money, but having been trapped in this body against his will, he had no idea if he still could.

  Reaching for the full length leather coat he’d thankfully been wearing when he was shot, Anteros slipped his hand in a random pocket he knew was as empty as Hera’s heart and focused on what he needed.

  “Mr. Anders, you look a little pale. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  The crisp edges of currency filled his hand and a sigh of relief escaped his lips. It had been much harder than it should’ve been, but at least he could sti
ll draw on some of his power.

  “Mr. Anders, are you hard of hearing?”

  Her slender hand on his arm brought him back to the moment. “What? No, I’m not hard of hearing. What makes you think that?”

  Her left eyebrow lifted and she shook her head slightly as she turned and headed for the door. “Okay, if you say so.”

  Anteros stepped from behind the table to follow her. “I’m not. I was lost in thought for a minute, that’s all.” Slipping his arms in his coat he caught his reflection in the windows, it billowed out behind him like a pair of raven’s wings as he started after her.

  With the light herbal scent of her hair enticing him, Anteros stride lengthened and he ended up banging into her when she unexpectedly stopped for her own coat.

  A tiny shock of awareness zinged through his system, and he couldn’t resist taking advantage of the situation, pulling more of her scent in before he stepped back. “Oops, didn’t know you were going to stop. Sorry about that.”

  “Guess we’re both in a hurry, huh?” She had a puzzled look, but thankfully didn’t pursue it. “I’ll go bring the car around and meet you out front.”

  Turning to the desk, Anteros was met with a sly grin and one raised penciled-on eyebrow. Okay, he hadn’t been as subtle as he thought and having to worry about what these mortals saw or didn’t was starting to annoy him. He was a bloody god for Hades sake.

  Unfortunately it wasn’t doing him much good at the moment and trying to deflect her, he adopted what he hoped was a charming façade. “Thank you for the hospitality Mrs. Turnbull. Both the room and food were wonderful. How much do I own you?”

  Other than adding a tiny smirk, her expression didn’t change, nor did she take her eyes from him. He suddenly had the urge to either shuffle his feet like the child he pictured earlier or blast her with a God bolt.