Hunger: Goddesses of Delphi

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Hunger: Goddesses of Delphi Page 20

by Gemma Brocato


  But Lia wouldn’t have this. Not with Ben. Not ever.

  Leaning on her mother, she allowed herself to be carried into the Hollow for the return trip to Delphi. The bleakness of the void matched the desolate condition of her mind and heart.

  She didn’t bother to try to control her descent to the floor as she misted to solid form in her living room. She stumbled, saved only when Stewart gripped her arm. Her sisters misted in behind her. Mel and Aerie led her through the motions of getting ready for bed, despite it being still light. Didn’t matter, Lia thought woodenly. She wanted to bury her head under the covers and never come out.

  “There’s no crying in baseball or saving the world,” Mel kidded, mimicking a line from one of Lia’s favorite movies. “And you did save the world. Hunger has been defeated.”

  Small consolation. With the back of her hand, Lia wiped a new track of tears from her cheek. After Aerie pulled back the comforter, Lia crawled between the sheets. Ben’s earthy herbal and smoke scent rose from the pillow she buried her face in. A fresh onslaught of tears rose in her eyes and she burrowed deeper in the downy softness.

  But she couldn’t go deep enough to miss Mel and Aerie’s whispered conference. “We should call Mnemosyne. Ask her to help,” Mel insisted.

  “I don’t know, Mel.” Aerie’s normally quiet voice was heavy with doubt. “It would be best if we let this play out naturally. Let her grieve. In time, maybe…”

  “But we may not have the time she needs to heal. Pierus might be back tomorrow with the next challenge.”

  “Even if Auntie M managed to block her memories of Ben in this lifetime, what about the next one?” Mel heaved out a dramatic breath. “We come back with a full set of memories. That will be so confusing for her in the new existence. And seeing the rest of us with the men who helped us defeat Pierus would be a constant shot to the heart.”

  Bloody hell. Lia sat up and pitched a pillow straight at Mel’s head. “Nobody is calling Mnemosyne. I’ll be fine. I anticipated this might be the outcome.” She’d never anticipated her soul would feel so…austere, so barren, when her fear came to pass. “Please leave me.” She threw herself to the mattress, rolled until her back faced them. She pulled a second pillow over her head.

  The memory foam pillow didn’t block out the sound of her bedroom door closing. And it didn’t do squat as a barrier to her recollection of the last time she’d lain in this bed with the man she’d come to love more than life itself.

  Perhaps if she held fast to the memory of the premonition they’d shared while in her kitchen. Of them lying on the beach, surrounded by her family in better times, future times. Deep within she wanted to believe in the truth of that vision. But buried deeper still was rank fear that it was nothing more than an apparition. Pierus could have planted the foresight as part of his plan to get her to let her guard down. To make her so confident of the outcome, she’d lose focus on the challenge.

  Her throat closed as she fought the overwhelming despair and tears. “Ben?” Even in her mind, her voice sounded weak and pathetic. Only stark, ominous silence trickled back to her. A tear leaked from her eye, pooled on the side of her nose, then dripped to the bed, forlorn and alone.

  Just like Lia.

  After four days of drowning her sorrow with Lucky Charms, fried mac and cheese, and YooHoos, and hearing nothing from Ben, Lia returned to work at The Greek. Fridays were busy nights at the comedy club. Everyone needed laughter at the end of the workweek. She had responsibilities she could no longer avoid. If she didn’t have a love to throw herself into, she’d bury herself in work.

  She’d called Ben each day, but he never picked up the call. Probably didn’t recognize the number. She didn’t leave a message. Because what would she say? Hey, I know you don’t recall, but you helped save the world, and made me fall in love with you. I’ll even pledge to eat healthy if you’d just please, please remember me. Although her family had held off enlisting Mnemosyne’s assistance in clearing Ben from her mind, Zeus hadn’t been in the least hesitant to turn the memory goddess loose on Ben and Emma. A decision probably for the best. If Ben wasn’t meant to be part of her life, the secret of her immortality, and that of her family, needed to be guarded.

  So Mars and Mnemosyne snuck into the Farmer’s Market early one morning on a mission to find Ben and remove any trace of his role in defeating Pierus from his consciousness. Lia had been devastated all over again the next day when she heard what they’d done. Any chance they might end up together vanished once the meddling gods accomplished the deed.

  If there were a bright side in the whole debacle, it was that Ben and Ian’s formula worked. The harvest had been saved when the healing fog blanketed the entire Earth. Polly reported that the media had latched on to the story that their great big blue marble had suddenly been enveloped in a never-been-seen-before vapor. Nia had hooked Lia up with satellite images of the ethereal white blotch floating in space. The photos were a shiny highlight in her dismal week. Ben had done that. And she’d inspired him to save humanity, even if he didn’t remember.

  And Pierus had maintained a low, almost non-existent profile. Shelly’s boyfriend had worked with Hermes to heal Hunger, and once the magpie had fully transformed back to her avian state, they’d released her into the great gilded cage in the gardens on Olympus.

  Lia had dragged Aerie to the market earlier in the day. She’d been standing in front of the florist’s booth, deciding between mums or sunflowers when she’d caught sight of Ben strolling down the concourse. Emma’s hands were flying as she walked backward, speaking to him.

  Oh, goddess, he looked divine. Square jaw, blazing ice blue eyes. His hair was messed up, but that only added to his sexy factor. He wore straight-legged jeans that hugged his lean thighs and hips, a gray thermal T-shirt and a navy and maroon plaid shirt.

  Flowers forgotten, Lia studied him as he approached, looking for any sign he might recognize her. His even white teeth flashed as he bit into a large, red apple. She was close enough to him to note the juice dribbling down his chin. It shouldn’t be so difficult to stifle the urge to run to him to lick it off. She gripped the canvas handles of the bag of fresh veggies she’d bought and held her breath as Ben and Emma drew even with her. She uncurled her fingers from their death grip on the handles and raised her arm to hail them.

  Brother and sister strolled right past, as if she and Aerie didn’t exist. Heart rending in two, Lia allowed Aerie to rush her to the public restroom before she broke down in the wracking sobs that had been her hallmark for the recent days.

  Mnemosyne had been too damn good at her job.

  He’d had the same dream for the past three nights. The nameless redhead, lying by him on a beach. Laughing, loving. Surrounded by friends…or family. Each smile she turned his way was breathtaking. Her sweet citrus and bergamot scent made his mouth water. How in the world had he incorporated smell into his dreams? Weren’t dreams just manifestations of memories?

  On their way from the market entrance back to the office they shared, Emma chattered to him, but he didn’t really see the words her hands spelled out. He was trying to reason out why the dreams woke him in the dead of night, cock hard enough to hammer nails through steel. Aching with the need to release. This morning, he’d stood under the biting cold stream in his shower, the water hitting his skin like needles. It still hadn’t eliminated the ache. Had barely touched it.

  Passing a flower stand, he caught the aroma of the flowers, bergamot among them. The clean, fragrant smoky orange scent wrapped around him, filling him with a sense of… Damn, a sense of something he couldn’t identify beyond his physical reaction to it. He scrubbed his fist against his sternum, digging in hard to drag his thoughts away from his still present arousal.

  Emma punched his shoulder, demanding his attention. What’s on the calendar this weekend? she wanted to know.

  He signed back, I don’t have my schedule with me. I’ll check in the office. But if you need tomorrow off, you can’t have
it. Only three weeks left in the season. We’re bound to be swamped.

  A bird squawked from a nearby tree branch. The blue jay’s caw sounded like a portent of doom. Emma lifted her shoulders sharply and ducked her head. Based on her action, it almost seemed like the noise had been audible for her.

  Ben gripped her arm, drawing her to a stop. Em, did you hear that? Excitement drove his hands fast through his signing.

  Confusion shadowed her face as she moved her head slowly from side-to-side. Christ, so much in his world didn’t make sense. Ben turned Emma around and led her to the small, masonry building they worked from. On the way, the sweet smell from one of the booths stopped him cold. Em kept moving. He walked over to the vendor and ordered a funnel cake. Something else he’d never done before. But he couldn’t wait to pop a bite of the doughy fried confection in his mouth. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything close to junk food. Not the sort of fuel he used to power his body.

  Laying the small paper plate down, he ignored Em’s pointed stare at the mess of yeasty ribbons coated in enough powdered sugar to turn the golden brown to snowy white. Ben licked the excess from his fingers as he logged onto the laptop in the center of his desk.

  It only took three clicks on the track pad to pull up his calendar. A small dot appeared under today’s date. One click later he’d opened the event. Puzzled, he stared at the words typed on the details line. The Greek Chorus. 9:30 PM. On the notes line in all caps was the instruction to not blow off the appointment. And to ask for Thalia. Whoever the hell that was.

  He knew the club. Had been there with Marco two weeks ago. Why would he head back so soon? It was certainly not his kind of gig.

  He reached for his phone. Calling up his friend’s name from his contacts, he pressed the call icon. Drumming his fingers, he waited for his call to connect.

  Marco answered on the second ring. “Hey, buddy. What’s going on?”

  “Did we make plans to go out tonight?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  “It’s the damnedest thing, but I have on my calendar to go the Chorus tonight. I figured I must have made plans to go with you.” Something in his gut told him he’d regret a decision not to go. A huge boulder of anticipation sat on his shoulders demanding compliance.

  Marco grunted. “Not me, man. But, I’m free if you want company.”

  After a short pause, Ben made up his mind. “I’ll meet you there at half past nine.”

  Chapter 22

  After spending the past hour helping Celeste stock the bar with liquor, salty snacks, and napkins and straws, Lia stepped into the kitchen.

  George grinned as she trudged toward him. He mopped his forehead and cheeks with a garish green kerchief. “Ya gotta try this new appetizer I want to add to the menu. It’s freaking ambrosia.” He slid a plate across the prep counter.

  Ambrosia? Doubtful. She’d grown up with that treat. It was a little too sweet even for her tastes. Lia pulled a stool to the counter, the legs scraping loudly on the concrete floor. Taking a seat, she studied the treat he’d tempted her with. “What is it?”

  “Italian nachos. Sliced salami, pepperoni, cubed pastrami, pepperoncini, and capers, smothered in a balsamic-parmesan sauce. I finished it with a dusting of shredded Asiago. Guaranteed to blow your mind.”

  Lia turned the plate, examining it from each side. It certainly looked tempting, stacked on thin pita chips. The pungent aroma of the peppers wafted in front of her nose. The vinegary smell made her mouth water. She dug out a chip, making sure it had a little bit of each item stacked upon it. Popping the morsel into her mouth, she savored the taste explosion on her tongue. She chewed, then swallowed. “It’s good. Let’s run it as a special tonight.”

  “It’s good? That’s all you have to say?” George folded his arms over his chest, his look hurt.

  “It’s good,” she repeated. He lifted a palm, like he waited for something more. Goddess, she’d offended him somehow. “Fine. It’s freaking Michelin quality. No one in their right mind would turn their nose up at this. We’ll be the toast of Delphi.” He’d created nachos with a twist. Bar food at its best.

  “Are you okay?” George’s voice rose higher than necessary for the question.

  She felt bad for the overkill she’d just dosed him with. Her shoulders slumped with exhaustion and despondency she couldn’t seem to shake. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just out of sorts. Not much of an appetite, I guess. Really, George, they’re delicious. I’m sure our customers will gobble them up.” She rose from her chair. Reaching out, she patted his hand. She made for the exit.

  “Hey!”

  Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder.

  George waved his hands over the plate. “Aren’t you going to take these?”

  She shook her head.

  “I can make you a plate of chili cheese fries.”

  She put her hand on the doorjamb, and turned sideways to look at her chef. “I think I’d rather have a salad. Maybe with some grilled chicken on it? Can you make me one?”

  George’s jaw had dropped and his brows had parked on the top of his forehead as she strolled from the kitchen.

  Now, two hours later, Lia cowered in her office, unable to focus. Unwilling to brave the Friday night crush. Not even to help Celeste with the rowdy, laughing, capacity crowd, despite Celeste’s pleas for backup. Lia had summoned Simon and begged him to put in another shift. Thankfully, he’d agreed.

  Clio and Jax had dropped by earlier, but left after the shortest of visits. Quite possibly due to the fact Lia had stared blankly at the wall behind their heads for the entire five minutes they sat in her office, attempting to make small talk. Before they left, Clio had pressed her forehead to Lia’s brow to inject words of love and encouragement.

  Jax hadn’t bothered with the whole mind meld trick. He’d cupped her face between his hands and held her gaze as he spoke. “If you continue as you have this week, in a stupor and feeling sorry for yourself, you might as well have let Pierus win. You are your only roadblock to happiness.” He kissed her cheek. “You did a good thing this week, Lia. A great thing. You won. You saved mortals and gave the remaining Muses a chance to meet their own challenges.”

  “This doesn’t feel much like winning,” she mumbled. Tears stung her eyes and her heart thudded painfully in her chest. A reminder of all she’d sacrificed. “In the end, Jax, it feels like I lost.”

  He would have said more, but Lia pressed her fingers against his lips.

  So instead, he wrapped her in a comforting hug. “Love you, sister.” He squeezed her hand, then slung his arm around Clio’s shoulders and led her out.

  Lia paced listlessly across the fifteen feet of her office floor. Head down, she crossed from one side back to the other, occasionally bouncing off the wall when she failed to notice her path ending, or forgot to pivot. In the club, one of the comedians she’d hired for the evening’s entertainment crushed it, if the bursts of laughter were to be believed.

  Her mind tripped from one memory of Ben to the next. The first kiss they’d shared right here in this space. In the market, when he came to her aid during their first confrontation with Pierus. The wondrous expression on his face the first time he shifted by himself into her bedroom, the way wonder gave way to desire when he discovered her naked, waiting, and wet for him. His quiet groan when he sank his teeth into that first pizza roll. The look of tortured bliss on his face as he spent himself in her body.

  The way he’d moved right past her in the market today, as if he didn’t know her. Or hadn’t even seen her.

  So lost in her thoughts, Lia banged her forehead into the wall. Stars burst behind her eyes and manifested as tears. She held them at bay as she slid to the ground. Back braced against the rough brick, she covered her face and willed her heart to continue beating, evenly, rhythmically. She’d lived hundreds of lifetimes, thousands of years. She’d survived plagues, and wars, and the loss of faith from mortals. Resting her he
ad on her knees, she guzzled in each breath, like it would be her last. She’d survive this. Ben would be just a fond memory in her coming existences.

  That was how Celeste found her, back to the wall, cheek resting on drawn-up knees. Defeated.

  A wrinkle appeared between Celeste’s brows. “Lia, hon? Are you okay?”

  Lia snorted out a laugh. “Today has been like a seven-layer turd cake. Each layer, each hour more disgusting and horrifying than the last.” She swiped her knuckles under her eyes, hoping to remove lingering traces of tears. “Did you need something?”

  “There’s some guy out front asking for you.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “It’s that guy who was hanging out with you last week. Ben.”

  Lia’s heart stuttered in her chest then kicked hard. She struggled to her feet, but remained with her back pressed against the wall. “He asked for me?”

  Celeste tipped her head to the side. “Kind of weird about that. He asked for Thalia. I’ve never heard him call you that.”

  Spearing her fingers through her tight curls disheveled them worse than they already were. “Um, tell him…I’ll be there shortly.” She’d have to repair the makeup she’d cried off. And fix her flippin’ hair.

  “Gotcha. He ordered jalapeno poppers. I’ll put the order in, but can you deliver them? It’s busy out there and we could use a little help.”

  “Yeah. I’ll pick ’em up.”

  Ben had ordered fried food? Hope rose, despite her best efforts to hold the buoyant feeling in check. Maybe he still had a tiny memory of her.

  She grabbed her purse, drew a calming breath and dug to the bottom for her makeup bag. Her hand shook so as she unzipped it, the contents scattered across her desk. She snatched the tube of mascara, grateful it wasn’t the coal dust and petroleum jelly concoction women had favored in Victorian era. Although she’d kill for something to make her eyes less puffy right now. She eyed the cucumber slices on her untouched salad, but opted to pass. She dusted powder over her cheeks and forehead, to hide the red blotch from where she’d hit the wall during her unfocused pacing.

 

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