I continued to stare at Helen, who was full-on glaring at Zack.
"She didn't let up," he continued. "She totally just kept up the crazy, even crawling up onto the hood and pointing her jacket pocket at the driver like she had a gun in it. In the end, they freaked out and ran away, leaving us the car with the keys in the ignition. I swear it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen."
Zack scooped her up in his arms, cradling her and announcing, "This girl is totally amazing."
"Put me down, you overgrown Neanderthal!" Helen yelled, beating on his chest with her little fists.
"Perhaps, we should leave them to it?" Haley murmured in my ear. "I believe we both could use a shower and change of clothes."
I looked down at my grimy, stiff clothing. I was covered in dirt and debris, and I was convinced that some of the rice from dinner had floated down the back of my shirt. A shower sounded heavenly.
I was about to agree when the air exploded with crazy yipping, and I got an impression of a thousand ears, teeth, and bulging eyes rushing at me.
Only, the swarm veered off at the last minute to jump on Haley, who gathered them up in his arms, rendering them still enough that I could see he was actually holding three black Miniature Pinschers.
"Man, I hate those dogs," Zack moaned, finally putting Helen down.
Helen, who loved dogs, rushed over to pet them, and the animals crooned into her touch. I watched it all with a kind of detached amusement that went cold when I noticed that all three dogs moved in complete synchronization. If one leaned its head into Helen's hand, they all did. If another blinked, they all did.
"Wait, what is going on with your dogs?" I asked, confused. "Or am I just seeing things?"
"Well, they're not really used to being apart like this," Haley replied matter-of-factly.
"Can your daddy tell us what he means, you adorable little smoosh faces?" Helen cooed as the dogs struggled in Haley's arms—in unison—to reach up and lick her face.
Zack strolled over to stand by Helen, and instantly, three tiny heads shot out in his direction, teeth bared and growls rippling out of their little throats.
"Whoa, easy boys!" he protested, holding up his hands defensively.
"What are their names?" I asked Haley.
"Slappy, Dopey, and Turd," Zack grumbled, making a face at the dogs.
"Actually," Haley replied. "This is Cerberus."
"Which one?" I asked, confused.
"All of them."
Helen paused in the tickling of the three little chins. She blinked, and the dogs yipped for more.
"Oh," she replied blankly. "Okay. I guess it's not every day that a girl gets to pet the three-headed hound that guards the gates of the Underworld."
Slappy, Dopey, and Turd whined their approval.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I STARED AT HALEY with his armful of dogs.
"Shouldn't they, uh, be bigger?" Helen asked, using both hands to deliver six ear scratches. "I mean, from what I’ve read, shouldn't it be bigger?"
"Yeah, Katie Jones never really forgave Haley for calling her a crone a few thousand years ago," Zack volunteered. "When Cerberus wanted to follow us into this form, she decided that payback was a bitch."
"Oh. Well, anyway, I think they're perfect," Helen said as the dogs scrambled—in unison—out of Haley's arms and into Helen's waiting ones.
"Looks like you have a rival," Haley whispered to Zack with a smirk.
Zack's shoulders slumped in defeat, even as he avidly drank in the sight of Helen.
"Hey, Helen?" he asked, cautiously approaching her, despite the warning growl from Slappy, Dopey, and Turd. "Do you need to let your parents know that you're okay and that you're probably going to be here tonight?"
"Hmmm? Probably." Her reply was muffled by hellhound kisses. "But, they might not even notice."
"Even with the flood downtown?" Zack queried, surprised.
"Probably not. Dad will be busy at the hospital, and Mom will be…uh, busy at home. My brother has his PlayStation. I’ll call them later and tell them I’m staying at a friend’s tonight."
I was shocked when he didn't jump on the open door she left with the whole "friend" comment. Instead, he frowned and reached out to touch her shoulder gently. When she shrugged him off, as she usually did, he looked surprised again, but I could have told him that even if she deserved his pity, she didn't want it.
"Speaking of Miss Jones," Haley said, breaking the thick silence. "Did you see her before you left town?"
Zack shook his head. "No, but I could sense she was handling things. It probably wasn't easy, but she's the only one of us who could handle a flood on that scale without revealing her true form."
"She won't be able to do this indefinitely," Haley observed. "We need a plan. Soon."
"I don't suppose just talking to Stephanie's mom would do anything?" Helen asked, depositing the dogs on the floor, only to have them all try to sit on her feet at the same time.
"Highly unlikely," he answered with a bitter smile.
"I've never seem Mom this angry before," I said, quickly moving to block out the rush of fear and despair at the thought of what she had done to me and tried to do to me. "Usually, she will get annoyed at me, even angry, but she eventually calms down."
"This isn't the usual," Zack sighed. "We somehow have to figure out how to stop the goddess of life."
"Without destroying her," Haley added. "I could end her existence, but that would instantaneously kill off every growing thing on the planet. Somehow, I think that might be a bad idea."
"A very bad idea," Helen agreed tensely. "Zack, can you do anything? I mean, you're Zeus, right? You're supposed to be the most powerful of the gods."
Zack gave her a sheepish smile and cleared his throat.
"Yeah, well, about that. I am more powerful, in my own way. But, I have to be really careful of when and how I get involved. Otherwise, I end up screwing things up more. Managing the life force of every plant and tree on Earth is not my area of expertise, so if I try to stop Deborah and mess up, I could kill off harvests around the world and leave billions starving. So, that kind of leaves me out of this one. It’s up to Miss Life and Mr. Death here to fix this. I can help, but that's about it."
"Technically, Stephanie could stop Deborah if she had to," Haley said slowly, his gravelly voice full of caution.
I looked at him, shocked. He nodded at me, his expression somber.
"You could," he assured me. "You could...do to her what she tried to do to you earlier...you could absorb her essence into you."
"But, you said that it would, that I would..." My voice cracked as my mind thrashed about in rejection of the memory of his words.
"It would rip apart her human body, though her elemental self would continue to exist within you," Haley articulated. "There's also a danger that because you have no control, it could backfire, and you could also be destroyed—both your human self and your essence."
"Goodbye life on Earth," Zack muttered, grim-faced. “And the rest of the universe.”
"Again, a very bad idea," Helen whispered.
"I can't kill my own mother," I said flatly. "No matter what energy or essence or whatever is there. I can't, and I won't. I couldn't live with myself, even if I am going to live for a billion years or whatever."
"No one is asking you to," Haley reassured me. "We simply have to go through all the bad ideas before we find a good one."
Silence fell on us again, and dread squeezed my heart.
Helen wandered off to stare into the fire that was cozily crackling in the stark, modern fireplace at the far end of the room, Cerberus tripping daintily along at her heels.
For the first time, I looked around at the simple open floor plan of Zack and Haley's house. It was comfortable but sparsely furnished. All the wood, stone, marble, and leather suggested nature and peace.
The one clearly unnatural item was the huge flat-screen television that bristled with video game wires and cons
oles.
Haley followed my gaze and sighed. "He's catching up on thirty years of gaming. Apparently, the last time he was here in human form, Pac-Man was all the rage."
I tried to smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but, all I could do was grimace cheerfully. I shivered, my entire body shuddering and wobbling.
"Time for that hot shower, I think," Haley said softly, gently picking me up in his arms and carrying me up the stairs, down one of the corridors, and into a large room with soft lights.
There were huge windows with heavy, navy blue, velvet drapes that were pulled aside to reveal the endless darkness of the night outside. The bed was a low, modern platform, wide and piled high with pillows in muted grays and dark blues.
My mind instantly latched onto the endless possibilities of such a bed, and I couldn't help but blush. Just because I was a virgin didn't mean that I couldn't think of all kinds of decidedly non-virginal things to do in a bed like that.
Haley's chuckle rumbled in his chest and vibrated against me. He set me down on my feet and took my hand, turning me around and leading me to a corner of the room I hadn't noticed yet.
On top of a sleek desk sat a computer with an enormous screen. An expensive-looking camera sat next to it, along with a scanner. Pieces of camera equipment were scattered over the rest of the surface, as were prints with wax pencil circles on them, handwritten notes, and a smorgasbord of pens and pencils.
“I took your suggestion,” he said. “You were right. I needed to find the way of capturing everything I see.”
Behind the desk, the entire wall was covered with photographs. Some in color, some in black and white. It only took me a fraction of a second to recognize the subjects of all them.
"You take pictures of Darbyfield?" I asked him wonderingly.
"Yes," he replied. "I had no idea that photography was so amazing. To think that human beings have actually harnessed electricity and chemicals into a machine that reproduces an image of reality is fairly impressive."
"Huh. I, uh, never thought of it like that before."
Haley smiled sheepishly. "Perhaps I'm easily impressed. This is my first time in mortal form. Zack does it all the time, but it takes much more power to pull Death into a living body and keep it alive."
"I...suppose you're right."
He laughed softly, a low, whispering sound that wrapped around me and thrilled my heart.
"You are taking all this very well," he said, going to his closet.
"Oh, I don't think I've really processed anything yet. I'm just going with the flow. I figure I'll wake up screaming in about thirty-six hours."
He frowned at my words and muttered, "Thirty-six hours."
I raised my eyebrows at him, then forgot everything at the sight of his perfect closet. It looked like one of those ads for a closet where they only have about ten things hanging up. I recognized every single piece he owned. Everything was hung up perfectly, pressed, and neatly arranged.
He pulled open a drawer and rummaged through it for a pair of boxer shorts, and then pulled a black shirt off the hanger. He turned and handed both to me.
"Here," he said. "You can put these on after your shower. I will put your clothes in the wash in the meantime."
A highly inappropriate giggle escaped me.
"What?" he asked.
"The god of the dead does laundry?" I replied a little wildly.
"Yes, and he does it better than the god of thunderbolts," Haley smirked. "I've also been known to buy groceries, do the dishes, and take out the trash."
"Wow, you really went whole hog on this mortal existence thing. Chores and all."
"I had never truly realized how much maintenance human bodies actually require," he admitted. His gaze turned feral on me, and he closed the distance between us, yanking me to him. "But, I'm beginning to see the benefits, as well."
I swallowed hard against the lump of desire in my throat and made an awkward sound that was between a laugh and a gasp. He gave me a swift kiss then released me.
"The bathroom is down the hall on the left," he said. "I'll meet you back here."
***
Hot water rained down on me, and for the first few minutes, all I could focus on was scrubbing the layers of grime off my body and shampooing the heck out of my hair. The grunge, though, had been a kind of protective shield against the reality of everything. With cleanliness came clarity, and with clarity came pain.
I couldn't think about myself as an alien energy mutant or whatever. I knew what I felt, and I knew the power that flowed within me. But, I was still in the mind and body of Stephanie Starr. This was all I had ever known.
And it was beyond devastating to know that my own mother had tried to kill me.
Bewildered tears began to fall, turning into begging sobs, as I huddled in a ball on the floor of the marble shower.
What had I done that was so terrible to deserve her anger and her hatred? I had truly tried to be a good daughter. An obedient daughter. A respectful daughter. I had tried to make her happy by being everything she wanted me to be.
I had loved her.
I loved her still.
Even now, she was my mother, and I knew her and loved her, even though it hurt my broken heart.
Was what I had wanted, as just plain old high school senior, Stephanie Starr, so terrible? A little freedom? A little room to be myself? Why couldn't she still love me if I grew and changed?
The answer was sharp, instantaneous, and terrible.
She had never loved me. She never loved her mortal daughter Stephanie.
She loved the adoration and veneration I gave her. She loved the feeling of being the one to ”give birth” to such power, to control it, even to end it.
She didn't love Stephanie Starr because she had no use for Stephanie Starr. She only wanted to possess Persephone, goddess of new life, the first spark in the universe, the only creature with a power equal to Death’s.
Exhausted, I leaned back against the warm marble, sobs slipping into silent tears.
I still didn't know what to do, and the pain was fresh and bleeding freely in my heart, but the blade of sorrow had finally sliced away the knot of guilt that had held me prisoner for so many years.
I no longer felt guilty for wanting what I wanted, and in the face of all my other problems, having one less issue felt like a major achievement.
Shutting off the water, I got out and ran a towel over my hair. I loved how my new short hair was so quick to dry. It even looked decent all wet and sticking out every which way.
I put on Haley's black shirt and black boxer shorts, feeling more like a love goddess as I inhaled his scent that clung to the fabric. How much had I drooled over him in this shirt? The feel of the fabric against my skin filled me with anticipation.
Barefoot, I padded back to Haley's room.
And almost passed out from want at what I saw.
Shirtless and wearing only black pajama bottoms, he stood in front of the windows, looking out into the night. My eyes approved of every line of muscle in his lean back.
My heart skittered around in my ribcage as he turned around to face me. Bare-chested, he looked like an alabaster statue with burning black eyes. He deliberately walked across the room to me, towering over me as he stood before me. His lips curved up in the slow, devastatingly sexy smile he had dropped on me during the first few days of school—was it only last week?
"I have wanted to see you in my shirt very badly," he said, his voice low and rumbling as he undid the top three buttons, leaving it much looser around my shoulders.
I barely had enough breath to breathe, let alone speak.
The next few moments were a jumble of lips and hands and movement, and I only vaguely noticed that we were now on his bed.
He had pulled the shirt off my shoulders and was kissing my neck and collarbones. I grabbed at him to bring him closer to me. I wanted to feel every inch of his body pressed against mine. New, almost scary, sensations were
spiraling out through my body as his cold hands searched out my skin.
I took every chance I could to touch him, to learn the subtle pattern of his bone and muscle.
"Oh, my love," he groaned as I trailed my fingers up his spine. He then attacked my lips with a renewed vigor, and our bodies began to rock with a tentative but tense rhythm.
"More," I gasped with the tiny bit of breath I could catch between kisses.
His hands found new places on my body, and I whined in frustration because it was thrilling and scary and not enough all at the same time.
He broke our kisses to stare deeply into my eyes, and I happily drowned in his darkness. Then, with an aching precision, he undid the rest of the buttons on my shirt. His fingers traced the exposed line from my neck to my belly and trembled at the edge of the fabric.
"I wonder how many times we can do this before midnight on Saturday," Haley whispered with a grin.
"Wait, what's Saturday?" I panted, logic barely surfacing from all my desire.
"That's when we shed these mortal bodies and return to the Underworld as gods," Haley replied matter-of-factly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WELL, THAT WAS a mood-killer.
Clutching my shirt closed, I wriggled upright. Haley sat back on his heels, looking mildly surprised, but still mostly interested in our previous activities.
"Shed these mortal bodies?" I exclaimed. "Return to the Underworld? Hang on, I didn't sign up for that part. I mean, you can't just make plans for Saturday night like that without asking me first!"
Haley's expression fell, and he looked away from me. My brain was fully reengaged now, and another realization popped up.
"Wait, that's why you repeated that 'thirty-six hours' I said earlier," I stated. "Saturday night is thirty-six hours from now."
"It's also the fall equinox," Haley added quietly. "It's the moment the Earth tilts away from the sun, beginning the cycle of death and winter. It's when my true nature grows too strong to be contained in a mortal body."
I stayed silent, fear squeezing my heart until I could almost see my vision jump with my pulse. I didn't want to say out loud the awful guesses I was making.
Downcast (Olympus Falling Book 1) Page 23