Shafted

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Shafted Page 3

by Kymber Morgan


  “It was my pleasure Mr. Anders; anytime. The rate for one night is eighty-five dollars, but are you sure you don’t want to stay on a little longer?” She finally released him from her intrusive stare by glancing down at a piece of pink paper on the counter and pushed it toward him. “The Bandit Creek Ladies Auxiliary is hosting a Valentine’s Day dance this coming Saturday. Thought you might like to hang around for it. Might give you a chance to get over that ‘sniffle’ you seemed to have developed a minute ago.”

  Anteros stared down at the chubby cherub representation his backstabbing brother so hated plastered across the bubble-gum pink paper and didn’t register her last pointed comment. The betrayal he’d felt the night before flared and he clamped his jaw tight to keep from gnashing his teeth. How could they have done this to him? Heat flashed along his nerves and the corner of the paper curled on its own, accompanied by the tiniest wisp of smoke. Had he been at full power the entire B & B would’ve burst into flames.

  Without counting, he peeled off more bills than required and slapped them down. Snatching the flyer and stuffing it in his pocket before the sharp-eyed inn keeper registered what had happened, Anteros spun on his heel and stormed out the door, an unnatural turbulence blowing the remaining flyers off the desk and banging doors shut behind him.

  Chapter 5

  He’d looked awful when he’d gotten into the car and hadn’t said a word the whole way into town. Now, watching him stand on the curb looking up and down the row of buildings lining Spruce Avenue, Callie wasn’t sure what to do. He still looked angry but completely lost at the same time. Leaning over toward the open passenger door she waved to get his attention. “Mr. Anders? Hey, you sure you don’t want to call someone?”

  “Teran.”

  “You want to call someone named Teran?” He turned his dark head and for the first time a spark seemed to leap in his velvet black eyes and a genuine smile lit his handsome face. Lord have mercy, the man should be locked up for the sake of feminine sanity everywhere.

  “No, Ms. Jamison, I’m Teran remember? It’s my mort...first name.” He braced his hands on the roof of the car and bent down closer. Callie felt like a mouse in a falcon’s sights and just like that mouse couldn’t move a muscle to do anything about it. “I wanted to hear you say it once before we part ways.”

  His smile faded replaced by an air of sadness and the next words were out of Callie’s mouth before her brain kicked in. “Okay...Teran. In that case, call me Callie, and listen, I don’t think I’ll be too long, so...if you want...you could wait next door at the Powder Horn.” Her heart started to beat faster and she had to look away from his handsome face. “That is if you want to of course. Lunch, we could have a bite of lunch you know, if you’d like to that is.” Could she have sounded any more like a thirteen year old if she tried? Callie wanted to crawl under the driver’s seat.

  “Powder Horn? Right there you mean?” His killer smile was back, and she had to remind herself to breathe. Without looking he tipped his head toward the saloon as though thinking about it. “Okay, but only on one condition.”

  Still smarting from her trip down juvenile lane, Callie’s face felt like she had a second-degree sunburn. “What, that I shut up?”

  This time the smile broke into a deep chuckle and dimples appeared on either side of his mouth softening the hard planes of his face and her breathing sped up. “No that I buy. Treating you to lunch is the least I can do and believe it or not I think I’m actually going to miss your chattering when I’m gone.”

  His parting wink turned her knees to mush and would’ve buckled them had she not still had her butt in the driver’s seat. Watching his hair and coat float behind him in time to his long legged gate put her in mind of a bird of prey in flight, danger and grace in perfect concert.

  Dummy! What do you think you’re doing? You should be running a hundred miles an hour the opposite direction. Ha! And you thought the Deputy could be trouble if he weren’t off the market. Lunch? What were you thinking?!

  Next to Adam, Teran Anders was nothing short of disaster.

  Anteros hated not knowing what to do. His existence revolved around decisive action but when Callie stopped the car and he’d gotten out, for the first time in his life he was at a loss. His little mortal had been about to leave and short of directly interfering with her free will, something he would never do given what Stupid Cupid’s arrows did, he couldn’t think of any way to stop her. He was a god and he was powerless.

  He’d assumed some excuse to stay close would present itself before they got to town, but with him still seething over that damn poster it hadn’t. Panic was not something he had experience with and he didn’t want to feel it again anytime soon. He didn’t know if he owed one of his Fate related cousins for the impromptu lunch invite or not, but for now he’d take the reprieve. Now all he had to do was figure out a reason to stick around after that.

  The sound of his boots on the wooden plank walk gave way to Honky-tonk western music as Anteros pushed the swinging doors to the Powder Horn Saloon open. An assortment of artifacts, ranging from coin operated pool tables and hi-way signs, to posters of events from decades past, greeted him as he entered.

  Off to the right, behind a massive oak bar, a living relic stood. One with a bald head, handlebar mustache straight out of the eighteen hundreds, and a paunch it must have taken a good number of his fifty or so years to earn. He was wiping glasses and out-singing the jukebox.

  Anteros could see someone over the swinging doors to the kitchen and a man with his head resting on his arms and a half full bottle in front of him was at the back of the room, but otherwise there were no other customers.

  Anteros rubbed his forearm then stretched his hand out. Good thing Callie hadn’t gone far and he hoped she wouldn’t be long; a dull ache was already starting in his bones.

  “What’ll you have? Got every kinda poison you can think of and then some, and an elk stew on special today hearty enough to stick to your ribs for a week.” A wide grin lifted laugh lines at the same time and angle as the man’s mustache and Anteros couldn’t help but smile. The crusty old guy was growing on him already.

  “I’ll pass on the poison, had enough of that lately thanks.”

  “Ha! Thought you looked a tad peeked. Bit by the dog last night were ya young fella? Take my advice a hair of the mutt that chewed ya’s the ticket. Fix ya right up.”

  “Thanks but no, coffee’s fine.”

  “Suit yourself. Go ahead and grab a seat anywhere, I’ll have Jess bring it right over. Name’s Cotton if ya change your mind.”

  “Teran Anders, and I won’t but thanks anyway.”

  Anteros turned to look for a table and the low winter sun from the front windows bounced off high gloss lacquered tables and reflected off the mirror behind the bar flashing in his eyes blinding him for a second.

  Out of the sudden glare, a head covered in stringy hair, framing a weathered brown face of indeterminate years with out of focus eyes appeared in front of him. A pair of surprisingly strong arms flung around him and the man shouted in his face. “Can you tell fool’s gold from the real thing?”

  “Zeus’s beard!” A burst of energy surged down Anteros’s arms to his finger tips and it was sheer luck he didn’t release it.

  “Jack! You old varmint, how many times I gotta tell ya not to bother the customers? Huh?” Cotton came around the end of the bar and a girl with a gamine face and blue tipped white blond spikes all over her head peeked out from the kitchen. “Jessica Hillerman you stay put, ya hear!” She pulled her head back around the door but not before sticking her tongue out at Cotton’s back.

  “Well, can ya? Hee hee, I can.”

  Anteros attention was drawn back to Jack whose head was wobbling around in a cloud of alcohol fumes. The guy was definitely soused. Reaching up and disengaging the man’s bear hug, Anteros held on so the man wouldn’t fall and took a step back.

  Cotton came up beside Jack and swung one of his arms over his should
er. “Okay, Jack ‘ol buddy, I think it’s time for your nap. Gotta nice cot all ready for ya in the back. Come on now.”

  Jack’s head snapped up and with eyes remarkably clear and lucid looked straight at Anteros. “Ask me, it’s kinda like love, hard to tell the real thing till it bites ya in the ass, don’t you think...Brother?” The curtain came down again and Jack started to giggle like a school girl.

  “Damn, I hate when he does that. Sorry he bothered you.”

  Anteros shook himself past the strange feeling inching up his neck and moved to take Jack’s other arm. “No problem, no harm done.”

  “Teran?” Callie looked from one man to another. “Is everything okay?”

  With a belch like a satyr and a toothless grin, Jack’s eyes opened wide and he pointed a twisted finger straight at Callie. “He shot the arrow, boom boom boom, but it wasn’t at the Deputy. Hee hee hee!” As Cotton hauled him away he looked one last time over his shoulder at Anteros. “Isn’t that right...Brother, Ha ha ha.” His laughter didn’t quit till he was safely ensconced in the back room.

  “Teran?”

  Callie’s voice sounded odd and pulled his attention off Jack. Looking closer he could tell something was wrong. “Callie? What is it?”

  She was shifting her eyes and strangling the edge of her coat. “I’m afraid we can’t have lunch after all, I’m sorry. I have to go with Mr. Guiley, he’s waiting outside.”

  Anteros dipped his head so she had to look at him. “And?”

  She finally looked at him and the mixture of regret and determination he saw in her face took him back. “So, I guess this is good bye then.” She started to reach out her hand but a horn blast from the curb startled them both. “Oh darn, Mr. Guiley tends to be a bit impatient. It was nice meeting you Teran, I hope you work things out with your brother.” Another blast split the air. “Sorry gotta go. Bye.”

  Before he could figure out what had just happened she was gone and he was left for the second time in one day at a loss.

  He hoped to Hades no one ever found out he’d just been brushed off – by a mortal.

  Chapter 6

  In spite of the soaring marble columns and expanse of the room, no harsh echo from their voices disturbed the peaceful beauty and tranquility of the goddess’s private chambers. The soft glow surrounding them made the nature of what they were discussing seem all the more unreal.

  “This calls for drastic measures. With your Aunt Athena trying to stick her nose in and make a mess of things and your brother being far too stubborn for his own good - as usual - it’s time for plan Beta.” The grace and beauty of the speaker was at total odds with the calculating tone of her voice, but Psyche had seen Aphrodite in action before so she wasn’t surprised.

  “Mother, I think you mean plan ‘B’ and haven’t we’ve interfered in Anteros’s life enough already? If he ever finds out what we’ve done, he’ll go Vesuvius like that.” The snap of strong fingers turned Aphrodite’s head toward the man lounging on the sofa across the room.

  A soft breeze fluttered the classical silk draping her slender figure and the golden glimmer emanating from within, set off her pearlescent skin to perfection. “Whatever. Your brother needs all the help we can give him right now Eros, and even if he does discover what we’ve done, temper or no temper, eventually he’ll see it was for his own good.”

  She lowered her eyes from his face to the pair of black biker boots resting on her gem encrusted ivory table. She lifted one graceful brow and the silver buckles in the shape of arrow-pierced hearts running up the side of the boots jingled as he dropped his feet down to the mist dappled marble floor.

  Psyche hid a smile. Even omnipotent sons didn’t argue with their mothers. The next thought chased her smile away. Sometimes it took a daughter-in-law to do it. She cleared her throat and turned away from the window. “I’m not so sure. I think I agree with Eros on this one. Shafting Anteros is one thing, but shooting his mortal, taking away her free will, might be pushing him too much.”

  Aphrodite tilted her golden head toward her, an all knowing smile gracing her rose bud lips. “Psyche darling, come now, this is no different from when you and Eros got together. A little push here and there never hurt anything – well in the long run anyway.”

  Eros stood up and in a gesture hauntingly similar to the brother they were discussing, shoved his waist length silver streaked white hair back off his equally broad shoulders. “How bad will it get if we don’t go through with it Mother?” He glided across the floor and took her dainty hands in his much larger stronger ones. “Isn’t there something else we can try first?”

  Psyche moved to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin on the stylized tattoo of her name banding his substantial biceps and waited for the goddess to answer.

  Aphrodite’s shoulders drooped slightly and an air of resignation permeated the room. “My darlings, I wish there were but there isn’t. This is his only chance. If we don’t turn his path now, he’ll fall to ambro-fever as so many others of our kind have.”

  With a gentle tug she pulled her hands free and turned toward the open window Psyche had just vacated “As you’re both well aware, for some, it’s not such a bad thing. Like you for instance Eros, in your case when you fell, being the embodiment of love, you simply became more...exuberant. And when you get a little carried away, you have Psyche to help curb that exuberance and until now, Anteros to fix any unfortunate misfires.”

  Seeing Eros wince was like an arrow to her own heart. He tipped his head toward his mate and placed a gentle kiss on her brow and Psyche tightened her embrace.

  “As you’re also aware, love cannot exist if it isn’t returned. It becomes twisted causing pain and heartache instead. So unlike you Eros, who projects love, Anteros purpose for being is quite the opposite, to avenge unrequited love, absorbing the pain of mortal and immortal heartbreak alike into his very being. His existence is a mirror image in all ways to yours. Hence, his fall would have much darker results.”

  Aphrodite raised diamond bright tear-filled eyes to them. “Anteros’s fate would rival his father’s, and we all know what happened to Ares when he succumbed unchecked to that for which he was created.”

  Psyche shuddered and Eros arm snaked out to pull her closer into his side. She looked up at him and a haunting specter darkened his crystalline sapphire eyes. “World War I.”

  “Among other things, yes, and that time he got out and we lost track of him for a day?”

  This time Psyche answered in a near whisper and Eros suppressed a shudder. “World War II.”

  “Exactly.”

  Eros slowly lifted his head and looked at what appeared to be a big screen TV, one currently showing a real time account of Anteros on earth and sighed, “So to save him we have to go against everything he stands for.” His eyes were drawn to his rune embossed platinum bow and its quiver of diamond tipped silver arrows, hanging proudly above the screen.

  “I’m afraid so and I’m very sorry to have to ask it of you Eros, but if we’re to save your brother, not to mention humanity, from what he’ll become if he falls, we must try to force his hand. I’ve no doubt in time he’d succumb to his need for the mortal woman and eventually he would win her, but we don’t have the luxury of time. You must shoot her.”

  Eros closed his eyes and nodded once, his face having turned to granite.

  “Once shot her heart will belong to him. She’ll pursue him wearing him down far more quickly. With no way to counter the effects he’ll have to give in or break her heart.”

  Eros pulled down his weapon and swung it over his shoulder. Psyche gave his arm a squeeze for encouragement and reached up to kiss the frown from his forehead.

  Aphrodite watched them for a moment then blew a kiss at the screen. Thank the seven heavens Hades told her about Anteros’s plans. Otherwise she might not have been able to intervene in time. An iridescent tear rolled down her pristine cheek, as she turned to mist drifting silently from the room and
whispered, “Thank you for the warning Brother-mine.”

  Chapter 7

  Dust from the parking lot at the B & B swirled in the air as Anteros got out of the truck and he had to fight off a sneeze. After Jack’s scene and Callie having to leave, Cotton offered to drop Anteros wherever he was staying. As it turned out, Jessica had some community service to do at the campground so he agreed to lend her his truck if she played taxi driver.

  Apparently Cotton had no idea how reckless her driving was. If Anteros weren’t immortal the last few miles of twisting turning mountain roads and near misses on bends with sharp drop offs might have been enough to turn his hair grey.

  He leaned in the passenger window and held his clenched fist out to her. “Thank you Jessica. I appreciate the lift.”

  The look on her face would’ve been comical if it wasn’t so filled with shock. She gingerly curled her own fingers into a ball and knocked her knuckles against his.

  “No problem I was heading up this direction anyway.”

  With the contact he used what powers of persuasion he still commanded and planted a healthy respect for the machine she was operating into her head. Anteros hid a smile as her eyes refocused and she pulled her hand back shrugging her shoulders. He stood away from the truck and winked. “Thank you anyway and drive careful.”

  Her face flushed and she slammed the truck in drive. “Yo, peace! Catch a later, auight.” She and Cotton’s truck were down the drive and around the bend before Anteros guessed she’d said something about wishing him peace and catching up later was all right. At least it was as close as he could come.

  Inside standing under the scrutiny of Mrs. Turnbull, a bug under a microscope came to mind. “So you’ll be staying with us a little long then Mr. Anders?” The strange knowing look in her eyes was unsettling to say the least. “Helping with Polya Raynings’s old place are you?”

 

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