“Actually, I think Zeus already suspects that I’m not all human. What’s weird is: he doesn’t seem to care.”
“Still, no reason to broadcast it. Bad enough that Steph knows.”
“And Hades.”
“And Hades? What the hell, Riona? Did you hand out flyers?”
The witch glared. “It was hard to hide when I ended up porting into his room in the middle of the night on accident. Oh, and nude. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through this week? I’ve spent the whole time isolated from the outside world with haywire magical abilities creeping up out of nowhere, and having to watch Persephone and Hades going through more high pressure fronts than Florida during hurricane season.”
“Wait, Hades and Persephone are fighting?”
Riona took on the look of someone having a stroke, one side of her face going limp. “Seriously, that’s the thing you want to know about?”
“How serious was it? Like, throwing stuff, or just yelling a lot?”
“Why do you... Oh, my god.” Riona’s face went pale. Her hands steepled over her mouth as she appraised him anew. “You’re the one?”
His brain searched the freakish crevices of its complexity to find a statement that wouldn’t be a lie. “I’m many things, Riona.”
“But you’re the one she was talking about, aren’t you? The one she had all the confusing feelings about and the one who’s probably the reason they’re getting divorced.”
He couldn’t help the sunnyside-up smile that cracked across his face. “Divorced?”
“Oh my god, it is you!” Riona took a step back for reasons that would only make sense to another woman. “I thought you didn’t sleep with anyone! And do you have any idea what you’re doing? She may be as resistant as a ketchup stain, but she loves Hades.”
“I’m sure on some level, she does. After all, he’s her uncle!” Ramiel spit back. “Just because I’m an angel doesn’t mean I don’t have sex; I just don’t sleep with mortals. Bad things happen when angels and mortals hook up.”
“Oh, you mean like me?”
He threw his hands up in exasperation. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Meant or not, it’s what you said.” She crossed her arms. “Do you love her?”
“It’s comp-”
“Don’t fucking tell me it’s complicated!” Riona bellowed. “If I have to hear one more person tell me how their relationship is so complicated, I’m going to bash in heads in with a halibut. I know you can’t lie, so tell me point blank: Do. You. Love. Her?”
He tried to keep his expression unreadable. “I’m not supposed to be able to love someone in that way, above all others, and to the point of exclusion.”
“I didn’t hear a no in there.” Her expression softened. “Don’t you see how unfair that is to her? You can’t be what she needs. You can’t be the man she needs. Hell, you’re not even really male, when it comes down to it.”
His fingernails pierced the skin at the heels of his hands. Attempting to keep his voice low, he took two steps toward Riona. “You know nothing of what I am. When I’m with her, I feel more a man than I’ve felt at any point in my existence.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. She... Ow, motherf-”
Riona’s arm stretched out across her stomach. Her eyes went distant as she fell back into a chair. Panicked, Ramiel let go of the anger and rushed to her side, taking her hand in his and asking her what happened.
“Nothing. Some sort of cramp, but not one that hurt. More like a hug inside my gut.”
“A harkening charm.” Ramiel recognized the symptoms from seeing its effect on other Pure Souls through the years. “A Pure Soul can send it out to another when they have close enough proximity. Jerry must be getting close.”
“Great, my husband can enact foreplay from a mile away.” She shot up from the chair and made for the door to go inside. “I’m sure he’ll never use that inappropriately.”
Ramiel shifted just in time to lay his hand on her wrist. “About me and Persephone... You can’t tell anyone.”
“Jesus Christ, Ram, I have more pressing things to worry about than you and Persephone getting your groove on. All I’m saying is... as far as I can see, Hades makes sense for her. And if you thought about her needs rather than yours, you’d see that too.”“
“But she hates him.”
Riona let out a sigh as she turned the knob. “I still hate Jerry too. The reasons I hate him are sometimes the same reasons I love him so much.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense.”
She cackled. “Yup, that’s love.”
Chapter 32
The servant’s entrance was the one place in Persephone’s father’s whole palace where she could be guaranteed privacy. At least, insofar as others of her kind were concerned. Tonight, even the house humans proved scarce, too busy seeing to all her father’s guests’ needs.
She breathed in the crisp night air, wishing suddenly she had a cigarette. Damn it, she’d never get over it would she? Sixty years since quitting, and the temptation still teased her. Nothing new there. She always had a hard time abandoning her more pleasurable vices. That didn’t stop at cigarettes and B movies, either.
Her mind’s eye filled with memories of Ramiel’s lips on her in all the places that were hardly holy for an angel.
“You’re thinking about me.”
Her eyes went wide and her body froze when she sensed his presence. “Am not.” Even she could hear the lie in her voice.
Ramiel’s arms encircled her from behind as his lips peppered kisses along her neck. Automatically, her head tilted to the side. The energy he radiated – she’d heard it called the spark of life – had her halfway home with a single touch.
“How can you tell?” she asked airily. “I thought only we were psychic.”
“I can’t read your thoughts, but I can read your body.” He pulled her arm back over her shoulder, relaxing it against the crook of his neck as he traced a finger down her ribcage. The starchy, thin fabric of her toga accented the effect. “All the hair on your arm is standing up, your lips have grown pink and full, your eyes are slightly dilated, and your nipples are taut.”
“That’s just the toga brushing against them,” she said.
She felt the vibration of his laugh in her chest. His hand dipped, and pulled up the sides of her skirting, running his fingers over the angle of her hip, to the inside of her thigh, and brushing against the mound of her womanhood.
“Is the toga the reason you’re so wet? Or are you remembering that time I took you up to the tower of the North Church and rang your bell?”
If she didn’t stop this right now, he would have her in thirty seconds. As great as that would have been, Persephone really wanted to stay focused. Cocking her hip, she slipped out of Ramiel’s embrace and put some distance between them. A nearby pillar kept her from going horizontal.
“Why aren’t you with Dee and Jerry? Or did you skip ahead so that you could seduce me before you had to babysit?”
“I haven’t seen Dee or Jerry since they left Boston. Actually, the only one who invoked me is Riona. Since your dad was as likely to toast my ass as not, if I showed up unsponsored, I thought it best to stay away.”
“Well, you showed up to the party unsponsored, so clearly, you don’t really think he’d do that. So why are you really here without my brother, who would have been sure you were properly documented for a visit?”
His eyebrow arched. “I’m not here because of the Pure Souls; but neither am I here illegally. I’m fully sponsored.”
“If not by Dee, then who?”
His face screwed up. “By your husband.”
Her nose wrinkled up. “Hades?”
He nodded.
“But why in the hell would Hades invite you? He hates archangels almost as much as I do.”
“I have my reasons.”
They both jolted at the sound of the voice behind him. Ramiel turned, reminding himself to act rationally, c
ompassionately, or, at the very least, restrain his urge to draw his blade and decapitate the asswipe.
He bit the inside of his cheek to staunch the fury. “Speak of the devil...”
“... And I appear.” In slow, methodic, drawn-out motions, Hades skirted the angel and put an arm around his wife, whose olive skin was frosted over with fright. “Though I haven’t held that post for eons, if you’ll recall, it looks like my successor is doing a bang-up job, though. I hear the human world is bubbling over with corruption. Even some talk of the Grigori signing up another one of your kind. That had to hurt the quarterlies back home, hmm, angel?”
“We’re writing it off.” He tried to send out his energy to Persephone to calm her down, and tell her not to be worried. “From time to time, every organization undergoes a little management shuffling, doesn’t it?”
This time, it was Hades who flinched. He tried not to revel too much in the nephilim’s inner torment and sadness; but was about as successful in that endeavor as a plastic surgeon operating on a jellyfish.
“May I borrow my wife?” Hades drew Persephone’s hand to his lips and kept a laser beam of hate flowing in Ramiel’s direction.
“Do you mean, borrow her back?” he replied.
“I’d be careful what you say to me, angel. I have a lot of raw materials at hand that could... rock your world.”
Hades bared his teeth, the anger inside him permeating his pores, before lifting the pebbles on the patio into the air, awaiting his command. With a single wave of Ramiel’s hands and the flash of his grin, the rocks became droplets of water, which plummeted back to the Earth harmlessly.
“Please, underling. You think tossing some gravel will have any effect on me? Bring it. Give me a reason to smite your ass.”
“Oh, my goodness, really?” With a jerk of her hand, Persephone drew both of their gazes. “Hades,” she turned to the black-haired beast, “what do you want?”
“Your father is ready for us.” Hades brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, placing it behind her ear as he let his finger trail down her cheekbone. “Assuming you’re still committed to doing this.”
She swallowed her nerves. “I am. Ramiel, if you’ll forgive us.”
Ramiel moved aside to let them pass. “We’ll speak again later. Alone.”
Instead of responding, Persephone just rolled her eyes and pushed past him. The former ruler of Hell began to follow, but paused when he reached the angel, leaning in.
“You know, it’s been awhile since I read the HHA, but I seem to recall some provision in it about nephilim being off limits for archangels.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not my type.”
Hades chuckled. “The funny thing about that is how much I’ve already screwed you. Oh, and angel? Stay the fuck away from my wife.”
Chapter 33
“It’s all so modern.”
Even though it was night and the half-moon overhead didn’t do the best job at lighting the streets, Anwen could hardly believe her eyes. Whereas she always imagined Olympus like a scene from a Hollywood blockbuster, complete with white-washed houses and bustling market places, the village she saw before her was a mix of row houses and small, single-family residences that reminded her of the Amalfi Coast.
Dee shook his head. “Everyone always says that. I don’t get why.”
“Come on, Dee. Your family tree includes Persephone, Hades, and Zeus. You honestly think I didn’t expect to walk into a Homeric epic?”
The demigod shrugged. “If it was four thousand years ago, maybe. But in the era of HGTV and Armani sheets? Yeah, not so much. You can’t live in the past forever, no matter how great it was. You have to move on with the times, or the times will move on without you.”
Jerry kept close behind them. “What an excellent reflection, Dee. Maybe you should go with that.”
“Hey, Jerry, did you know my nephilim strengths are even more acute in this realm? I can totally demonstrate how to shatter your skull with a mere flick of my fingers.”
“If that’s true, maybe Anwen has enough strength to fly us up this hill. I’m about beat.”
“I’m not a taxi service!” Anwen snapped.
Inspecting the slope of the last hill, she felt Dee’s arm wrapping around her, pulling her closer to him. “We can be in and out in fifteen minutes flat. Just need to find Riona, talk to my sister for a few minutes, then we’re gone, okay? I promise, I’m not going to let anything happen to you in there.”
Was her anxiety so close to the surface? Somehow, however, she couldn’t convince her muscles to relax or her nerves to calm. Dee moved her around him, pulling their chests together, and kissed her. It was gentle, like a tacit promise to trust him, and let him handle it. He lazily sucked on her bottom lip before pulling away. The warmth that overcame her had nothing to do with arousal for once, although that still bubbled softly in the background. Rather, she regained her ease at once, as though she’d come through a storm and found a safe shore.
Anwen turned a puzzled expression up to the demigod. “How did you do that?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “What, kiss you? A better question is how do I not?”
“No.” She felt a blush in the apple of her cheeks. “I mean, how do you make me feel so complete?”
He hesitated a second, then leaned his forehead against hers. “Anwen, this doesn’t make sense. I feel like... the things I feel for you are wonderful, but none of it makes sense.”
“Holy mother of Bob Hope, you know what really doesn’t make sense?”
Jerry’s outburst had both of their heads jerking in his direction.
“I’m this close from getting my wife,” he pinched a smidgen of air in demonstration, “but you two want to stand out here and rehearse the plot to every tired, canned, chick flick I’ve ever seen.”
Just then, the air next to Jerry shimmered. Anwen held a hand over her eyes as a brilliant flash of light grew legs and arms. A moment later, a face appeared that could have had her begging for release in ten seconds flat. Tall, built, and wearing a toga that ignored modesty, he had a chest you could write a symphony on, long, blonde hair that only managed to enhance his masculinity, and eyes so deep and blue, James Cameron could have used them as the backdrop for Titanic.
“I thought I heard your particular brand of hot air,” the man said, focusing on Jerry.
“Ramiel?” Jerry asked. “What the hell are you doing here? And where in the hell have you been?”
“Busy,” was all the man answered. “And took you long enough to get here. How in the era of modern travel could it take you a week to get from Boston to Athens?”
“Well, first, there were the demons we had to toast in London, and the vampire Dee ran into in the Balkans, and then we had to drive through Europe during a blizzard.”
The man pivoted his head and his curious gaze fell on Anwen. “Why, hello there, Anwen.”
She felt her spine straighten and tingle. “I’m sorry, have we met?”
“Nope, but let’s fix that.” Crossing over to her, he took up her hand and planted a kiss on the back of it. She didn’t swoon. Honestly, not a single bit. Her knees nearly buckled was all.
“Can you pull it back a bit?” Dee growled, keeping her from falling backwards.
“Come on, Dee, you know I have no control over that. Spark of life, female lust, and all that.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Because I’m an archangel,” was his terse response.
When that failed to satisfy her, he continued. “It’s just a thing we can do,” he explained. “Have to admit, though, I didn’t know which of your names you go by. Thought I’d pick the one with less baggage. I’m Ramiel, by the way. I’m the overseer for these two pathetic lumps of clay.”
Jerry pulled Ramiel back by the arm. “Have you seen Riona?”
“Just a little while ago, yeah. She’s somewhere inside.”
Jerry turned desperate eyes on Dee, who, in turn, waved him forward. “Go
on. Sounds like there’re quite a few people inside anyway. We can probably avoid the formal sponsor request temporarily. Go find your wife.”
With a quick nod, the pillar was off. Dee put his arm around Anwen’s waist and led her forward.
“The sooner we go in, the sooner we can leave. Knowing my luck, they’ll all want to rush me. I swore I would never come back here.”
“I can stay close, if you like,” Ramiel offered. “They’re all pretty desperate to keep their distance from me.”
“But why would anyone want to keep their distance from you?” Anwen asked with perhaps just a little too much surprise.
Dee grimaced. “Because he’s an archangel. The only time they come to Olympus is when...” Dee stopped cold in his tracks. “Who?”
Ramiel shifted his weight. “You know I’m not allowed to say without permission.”
The demigod’s voice broke as he asked, “Is it someone from my family?”
Ramiel stayed mum.
“Shit. We need to find Steph. Come on, Anwen.”
Chapter 34
“Damn it, Jerry, stop!”
As much as she anticipated seeing her husband, Riona was seriously ready to drop-kick his pancreas into next Tuesday if he didn’t stop that summoning charm thing. What the hell? He never summoned her before. Then again, Riona realized, since Jerry was resurrected in Marc’s body, they’d never really been apart for more than just a few hours. There wouldn’t have been the need.
She clutched at her stomach as she rounded the winding staircase, reaching a hand out to steady herself. The tug in her gut morphed from just a tingle to feeling like someone was playing Whack-a-Mole with her internal organs. Is this what Ramiel felt each time one of the Pure Souls summoned him? A good thing to know if she ever got truly pissed off at the angel.
Hex Goddess (All My Exes Die from Hexes Book 3) Page 22