by Amy Sumida
The other men nodded their assent, and that was how it was decided that I would practice Tantric non-sex with Eros.
Chapter Seven
I returned to Olympus with Odin. The other men agreed to let him handle the situation since he was the most familiar with Tantric sex. On our way to the home of the Erotes (the Greek Gods of Love), I teased Odin about his knowledge.
“When were you studying Tantric sex?” I asked him.
“When I was trying to find a way to bring you back,” Odin said grimly. “It wasn't something I set out to learn; there just happened to be some passages in the old texts I was researching. It's based in energy work.”
“Way to ruin a mood,” I huffed.
“Here's another wet blanket; what if Himeros is home?” Odin smirked.
“Shit; that hadn't occurred to me.”
Himeros was the son of Aphrodite and Ares. He hated me with a burning passion for killing his parents (valid) and had a vendetta against me. I had kind of humiliated him the last time I saw him, so I doubted that his hatred had lessened any.
“Perhaps I should fetch Eros for you, and we could try this on more neutral ground,” Odin offered.
“No; I'm not running away from Himeros,” I huffed. “He's the one who should be running from me.”
“That's true,” Odin said simply.
We didn't seem to be in a rush, just strolling down the white flagstone streets, nodding to passerby. It wasn't a busy time of day on Olympus, but there were a few gods out. They wore various styles of clothing; from traditional togas to modern sundresses. Our presence was noted but not unwelcome; they nodded back to us congenially when we passed by.
Around us were the homes of the gods. Every one of them was a palace and all were built in a traditional Greek style. It seemed like Olympus had a home owners association that didn't allow for individuality. The main differences were the position of the palaces—how far back they were set from the street—and the gardens before them. Some of the homes had elaborate, overflowing gardens that added a sweet scent to the salt-laced air. Others—such as the palace of the Erotes—were set just a few feet back from the road, with only a set of stairs leading to a grand, column-lined veranda.
“Do you still call it a veranda when it's set before a Greek palace? Or is it a gallery?” I asked Odin as we climbed the steps to the pink palace of love, aka the home of the Erotes.
“I believe this whole colonnaded surround is called a peristyle,” Odin said.
“Of course you would know that.” I rolled my eyes.
“Pink.” Odin shook his head. “How can grown men live in a pink home?”
“Pink was once a masculine color.” I knocked on the massive door.
“That's not entirely true,” Odin crossed his arms as he lectured me. “In the 1920's there were some humans who went around saying that pink was a lighter shade of red, which was an accepted masculine color, and therefore, it should be appropriate for boys to wear. But everyone else still ended up purchasing blue items for boys and pink for girls, until it became the norm in the 1940s. Pink is a color for—”
Eros opened the door before Odin could finish. He lifted a brow at Odin as if he'd heard our conversation. Odin cleared his throat, but didn't look ruffled; he merely lifted a brow back at Eros in challenge. Eros shook his head as he stepped aside and waved us in. Smart man; it was never a good idea to challenge the Allfather on anything intellectual... on anything at all, really. As I passed Eros, he snatched up my hand and kissed it tenderly.
“Thank you for returning,” he said.
“We're all eager to see this settled,” Odin said as he took my hand away from Eros.
“Eager is a dangerous word,” I muttered, and Eros chuckled.
“I've cleared the house for us,” Eros announced grandly.
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said with relief.
“Himeros wasn't looking forward to seeing you either.” Eros smirked. “Though the rest of the Erotes were disappointed to miss your visit.”
“Where will you be attempting this procedure?” Odin asked.
“Right to it, eh, Allfather?” Eros asked. “All right then, this way.”
Eros led us up a grand, marble staircase to the second floor. More columns guarded the base of the stairs, and the railing was so solid and expansive, Odin could have slid down it. At the top of the stairs the path split. To the left it became an enclosed hallway, and to the right, it opened up into a balcony/walkway. We went right, and I peered over the stone railing into a garden of blooming flowers surrounding a tasteful fountain. So, the Erotes preferred their garden in the center of their home, as opposed to out front. I can't say that I disagreed with them. This way, they could enjoy it instead of their neighbors.
The sound of falling water from the fountain was soothing, and it followed us into a spacious room with a magnificent view. Olympus stretched out before us, and then the sparkling ocean beyond the mountain's edge. Above the city flew white birds and winged gods. To the far right of us rose the apex of Olympus, the highest peak of the mountain. Athena's palace stood there, dwarfing all of the other homes. It was magnificent, but it looked a bit lonely.
I turned away from the tall window and took in the sparsely decorated room. No; that wasn't an accurate description. It seemed sparse because it was so very large, and the furniture within the room was set far apart from each other. The bed seemed miles away from us, on the opposite side of the room, but it was ornate—a huge mattress enclosed by more columns (the Greeks love columns)—and had an army of pillows strewn across it. Off to the side of the bed was a lounging area. I say lounging as opposed to sitting because all of the couches were actually chaise lounges. There was a metal brazier between the loungers; not only was it lit, but Eros had thrown some herbs over the coals, and the scent perfumed the air with a strident yet pleasant scent.
Closer to us there was a dining set, and across from it was a collection of wardrobes and wooden chests. Quite a bit of furniture was placed about the room, and still, there was a good fifty feet of empty space around us. The only thing within that radius was a thick, padded mat, big enough to lie across. Eros went straight to the mat and sat in the middle of it, cross-legged.
“You'll need to sit on my lap.” Eros held a hand up to me and helped me drape myself over his crossed legs. “Now, wrap your legs around me and place one hand on my chest,” he instructed as he laid his palm to my chest. “Like this. Yes; that's perfect.”
I glanced at Odin, and he nodded before taking a seat nearby.
“If he's going to be a distraction, he'll need to leave the room.” Eros nodded to Odin.
I looked at Odin again, and he scowled.
“Stay until we get started, if you like,” Eros offered. “But we'll need to focus intently for this to work, Odin, and if you're here, she may not be able to do that.”
“Fine. I'll be right outside.” Odin stood, gave Eros a hard look, and then went to stand in the hallway, shutting the heavy, wooden door behind him.
“Now what?” I asked Eros.
My voice was shaky. Simply being that close to Eros was messing with my composure. My magic was already rising inside my chest, seeking to connect with his, and it was causing some embarrassing reactions in my body.
“Now, we stare into each other's eyes,” he said.
“Longingly?” I let out a nervous giggle.
“Vervain.” Eros smiled and shook his head. “This is very serious.”
“Right. Sorry,” I murmured and focused my stare on his.
Eros had streaks of blue in his green eyes. I stared at them, and they began to glow. I felt myself falling forward into him. My hand on his chest should have stopped me, but it seemed as if it were sinking into his body, along with the rest of me. I inhaled sharply and tried to pull back, but I couldn't.
“Relax,” Eros purred. “It's just our magic joining in a new way. Breathe deeply, in time with me. Let your walls down, Vervain. You need to trust me
for this to work.”
Eros inhaled deeply, and I followed his lead. Our breathing became rhythmic, a mantra that merged our minds. The bottle-green of his irises widened and consumed me, and then there was no me; only us. I slipped into Eros and became him for awhile.
I began to see the triumphs and tragedies of his life with technicolor clarity. I felt the thrill of being a young god, striding through the world confidently; more revered than an emperor. Then I—we—saw her; the most beautiful goddess in the Greek Pantheon: Aphrodite. One look and our magics rang out; they resonated with each other. We resonated with each other. We were both young then, and so optimistic. Love was pure and intoxicating, and Lust was only a slightly darker version of Love's bliss. The world was ours; there was nowhere we couldn't go and nothing we couldn't do. We were given everything we desired. But what we desired most was each other.
The shock of desiring Aphrodite, made me pull back a little from the memories, and regain some of myself. I was able to view it more as an observer and less as a participant.
Aphrodite and Eros were inseparable at first; beyond even the closest of lovers; more like twins. They spoke to each other without words, danced beneath the stars, and made love in the open fields. I could smell the sweet grass beneath their sweaty bodies, and feel the freedom of their unashamed release. The Sun warm on their skin and glowing in the fall of Aphrodite's golden hair. The stroke of a loving hand, the teasing pinch, and the aggressive pull of a lusty hand. Salt licked from skin and wine drunk from each other's lips. It was intoxicating.
The people adored the beautiful couple and showered them with sacrifices. The power they received was dizzying. There were days when they would lie within each other's arms, reeling beneath the onslaught of energy that coursed through them. Then more gods were drawn to Aphrodite's magic and beauty. She began to spend time with other men. Eros was jealous at first, but then he found his own path and understood that this was the way of their magics. They had a duty to share their Love and Lust with others, but they would always return to each other.
I shivered against Eros, a vague sensation of our physical bodies intruding on the memories, and I felt him sifting through my own past—deep into my previous life. But where I was letting his memories take me gently along, Eros was flipping through the pages of my life as if he were crunching for a midterm. I tensed, and Eros stiffened against me. This suddenly felt wrong; an invasion instead of a gentle joining. I didn't really know this god, and I wasn't comfortable with him rooting around in my mind. This was supposed to be about magic, not souls.
The images of Eros' life started playing out faster in response to my intention to pull away from them. I watched in dismay as both Aphrodite and Eros changed from innocent—albeit entitled—gods into twisted versions of themselves. I knew that Aphrodite had gone bad, so it shouldn't have been a surprise to me that her counterpart had followed the same path. I should have thought about that before I agreed to do some soul-melding with Eros. Why hadn't any of us considered the fact that Eros might be playing us? How many lovers of Aphrodite's did I have to fight before I learned to be wary of anyone connected to her? Sometimes my idiocy astounded me.
I was finally able to push Eros out of my head, but just as I slammed a mental ward into place, I felt triumph flare through him. Eros' arms tightened around me, and his erection was a hard rod between us that felt more threatening than sensual. He rubbed against me rapidly and then groaned out his release. Wet heat spread over my stomach as I tried to tear myself away from him. As soon as his semen hit my skin, I felt nauseous. My head spun, and my magics shrieked inside me as if they were in pain. I heard the roar of my lioness, along with that of my dragon, and the howl of my wolf. Light flared behind my eyes, blinding me for a second as the butterflies whirled inside me and Lust lanced me with a crimson spear. The Moon lifted the tide within me and then crushed me with it. I was falling backward into the sea of my own magic, and I felt Eros following me down. He pressed his palm against the stain he'd made on my dress and rubbed it into me as he held me pinned.
“Was it good for you too, lover?” He purred in my ear viciously.
“What have you done?” I could barely choke the words out of my constricting throat.
“I've claimed my revenge at last,” Eros said with grim satisfaction. “I've waited and plotted for years; watching you strut around with your lovers, using Aphrodite's magic to collect them and bend them to your will. You killed the woman I loved and then had the brazen perniciousness to insult her memory by using her magic to make you a goddess. But I knew this day would come. I knew I'd finally have the chance to kill the Godhunter: the bane of my world, the horror that has haunted my nightmares. This is for Aphrodite, you fucking bitch!”
“What is?” I hissed as pain lanced through my body, and mist filled my vision. “What have you done to me, Eros? Tell me, you fucking bastard!”
“I've given you the Death Mist.” He sat back on his haunches and smirked at me, but his expression was blurring under the haze in my eyes. “I had to fuck that disgusting Akhlys to get it, but it was worth every second, just to see you writhing here in agony.”
“But now you'll die too,” I groaned out. “You've killed us both.”
“That was a ploy, you idiot.” Eros laughed. “I fooled you and the entire Greek Pantheon into believing that my magic would die without touching Aphrodite's. You're all morons. We're not werewolves; we don't bond like that. When you die, I'll be just fine.”
“But you looked sick.” I groaned. “And I felt the power in our connection. You can't fake that.”
“My appearance was an illusion meant to sway you. All I needed was a chance to get close to you; get you to lower your defenses enough for me to slip past them. Then my magic drove yours into a frenzy.” He laughed viciously. “We don't empower each other; we inflame each other. Like setting a match to gasoline.”
Frigid pain, like icicles beneath my skin, shot through me, and I cried out.
Eros jumped forward and covered my mouth with his hand. “Shh now. We don't want your husband coming in before I've reveled in your death. I think I deserve this, don't you? I deserve to see you tremble in fear and pain; to watch as you take your last breaths. Just as you did with my Aphrodite.”
I groaned as my eyes clouded over entirely, and Eros' face faded in the mist. The pain was becoming a dull throb, but it was also seeping deeper. I could see it infecting the spoke of my Love magic on my nine-pointed star; acid green and bruise black creeping inward like decay. The point of Love dulled, sparked in defiance, and then winked out. This was a poison, and it was spreading toward the center of my star. I knew that once it reached my star's heart, it would branch out to the other spokes, festering through the magic until those spokes winked out too, and then it would kill me.
“My cum was the carrier,” Eros was going on and on, like some comic book villain, telling me all about his perfect plot. “Akhlys wrapped my cock in that poisonous pussy of hers and sent the death mist into me; a dormant infection just waiting to be released. But that's not all. As I fucked her, I opened my soul to her, and she sent a spiral of mist into my magic. Two traps made just for you, Godhunter. When our souls touched today, you took the first dose; the mist transferred from my soul to yours, becoming a wedge in your wards, leaving a sliver open for invasion. Then I came on you, and you took the second dose. An infection of body that slid through the wedge I'd already made with your soul. It makes me sick that you could arouse me, but I used that obscenity to destroy you. I turned my shame into victory. I want you to die knowing that I used the magic you stole from Aphrodite to kill you. In the end, she won.”
I felt Eros' breath on my cheek, but then the pressure of his body eased off me. My breathing was coming more ragged, and then it stopped altogether. My heart continued on valiantly, even though my lungs had given up; thud, thud... thud. With the last beat, my hearing started to fade, but the echo of Eros' voice followed me into oblivion.
“Goodbye, Godhunter. May your soul never return.”
Chapter Eight
I came gasping back to life, and strong arms pulled me tight against a massive chest. My hands pressed against that chest, and I breathed in Odin's clean, invigorating scent. My cloudy stare lifted to Odin's stunning, peacock colored eyes; eyes that were full of tears.
“Vervain!” Odin sobbed as he stroked the skin at my temples. “What did that son of a bitch do to you?”
I pulled in a few more deep breaths, and my vision cleared. A quick peek inside myself showed my star completely healed; the poison eradicated and the spokes shining brightly once more. I'd been poisoned by a goddess before, and it hadn't stuck; I shouldn't have been surprised that my nine-pointed star could handle this death mist Eros had infected me with.
“Death Mist,” I groaned.
“Death Mist?” Odin scowled. “From Akhlys?”
I nodded.
“How did Eros transfer it?”
“You don't want to know.” I moaned, my limbs still aching from the infusion of death. It was like a full-body bruise. Like a frost giant had swung me around and launched me into a mountainside. “Remind me never to trust anyone associated with Aphrodite.”
“This was about her?” Odin huffed. “Again? Did that bitch have a magical pussy or what?”
I burst into laughter and then moaned from the pain the motion caused.
“Sweetheart, are you certain you're all right?”
“Yeah, I think I'll be fine,” I assured him. “It's just taking a little while to leave my system.” I sat up. “How long was I out for?”
“I don't know for sure,” he admitted with a grimace. “I waited out in the hall for an hour, then I knocked, and when no one answered, I came in. I found you laid out on the floor, alone and seemingly dead.”
“Eros has probably fled Olympus already,” I growled. “Damn it; I was really looking forward to messing up his pretty face.”