“Stay here, Brea, let me explain everything,” he shamelessly begged her.
“No, I need to go.” For the second time that night, Brea left him. Cupid stood on the back patio with no idea what to do. Suddenly he wished the biggest problem between them was her mistaking that he needed space from her. But the can of worms had been busted open, and he had no idea how to clean up the mess.
Twenty-Three: Tying up loose ends…
“What are you doing here at this hour?” Lindie practically screeched. Dressed in an oversized beer advertising T-shirt and super fuzzy socks, it hardly looked as if Lindie’s night had been interrupted.
Brea said nothing; she didn’t even look at Lindie. Didn’t know how she drove the way over without crashing her car. Her mind was riddled with all sorts of wild thoughts and she didn’t know how to go about sorting out what was real and what she had obviously made up in her overactive mind.
Lindie pulled her into the house and chattered enough for the both of them. “Grandmother Pinn left a couple of days ago, and not a day too soon. Though I have to say, she could have left much sooner, in my opinion. I don’t really have any food in the house. Grandmother Pinn insisted on making authentic Japanese dishes and she knows I was born and raised on American cuisine. I said all that to say I threw out everything she cooked the same day she left. I might have some leftover applesauce, but I think—”
“Vodka,” Brea said as Lindie pushed her down on the sofa.
“What? Oh vodka. Well, of course I never told you about Grandmother Pinn’s drinking habit. She cleaned me out until I took her to the store and got her a bottle of saki. That’s all I have.”
“Fine.”
Lindie looked at Brea suspiciously before fetching the drink. She came back carrying a shot glass in one hand and the bottle of saki in the other. “She didn’t leave much…” Lindie offered the glass to Brea.
Brea took the glass and emptied the contents then reached out her hand, indicating that Lindie should give her the bottle. Reluctantly, Lindie handed it over. “You should go easy on that. It has a reputation for a reason,” Lindie warned, sitting on the arm of the sofa. She watched Brea empty the contents of the bottle then just sort of let it slip out of her fingers and into the corner of the cushions.
“What happened to you? I tried calling the last couple of days and left like a dozen messages. You look bad, Brea. What happened?”
What happened indeed? Brea thought to herself as she stared at nothing in particular. It seemed as if her eyes didn’t even want to blink on their own accord she was in such a catatonic state. How did she even begin to tell her best friend that her current lover was a Greek god, with a psycho, immortal ex-wife?
“I can’t talk about it right now. Can I sleep here tonight?” Brea managed, already snuggling into the cushions that smelled like incense. Lindie’s grandmother no doubt did that spiritual cleansing thing she did every time she came into town. She claimed the special incenses warded off evil and helped identify supernatural creatures. Grandmother Pinn was a fry short of a Happy Meal. At least Brea used to think that. She wondered how much truth lay in the rituals.
“Sure, I’ll get you a blanket and some pillows.” Lindie scurried off and came back moments later, gently putting a pillow under Brea’s head and covering her with the warm velour blanket. “We can talk tomorrow,” Lindie began, cutting off the lights in the house.
“I’m tired, Lindie,” Brea muttered. “I’m just so tired.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Get some sleep, Brea, things have a way of looking so much better in the morning,” Lindie tried to soothe her. But Brea knew it didn’t matter how many mornings she woke up to from now on. The results would be the same. Of all the men in the world, she first chose Terry, a selfish, two-timing asshole who taught her the meaning of betrayal. Then she meets Jor—ah, Cupid, a deceiver and a god. She had great taste.
“I don’t understand, Brea, it’ll all smell like smoke, if something is left,” Lindie whined yet again as they made their way up the steps to Brea’s smoked-out apartment. After rising in the morning and deciding that the past couple of days hadn’t happened she checked all the messages she had been avoiding since…since she became busy.
Ms. Markesan had left a message informing her that she could salvage what she could from her apartment. And, oh by the way, the fire had started in her apartment as well. Seems there was some sort of faulty wiring, that’s the only excuse they could come up with since other reasons eluded them.
“Some things are worth saving at any price,” Brea said stiffly, turning the key in the lock.
Meticulously, Brea picked through her smoked–out, burned-out belongings and found, to her dismay, that there really wasn’t anything worth saving. Lindie complained the whole time about the smell and how it was going take a multitude of showers the get the smell of “burned” off of her.
“Lindie, I have to ask you something and you can’t look at me like I’ve lost my mind,” Brea stipulated, throwing down a ruined blanket in disgust.
“You take the fun out of everything, but fine, ask away.” Lindie put her hands on her hips and gave Brea her undivided attention.
“Do you believe in the supernatural?”
“Yes,” Lindie answered quickly.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Sweetheart, the supernatural is all around us. When we pray, whom do we pray to? A supernatural being. I for one have seen ghosts. My Grandmother Pinn says no matter how great a thing is, there is always something greater and more powerful. By default alone, there must be things greater than ourselves. It’s foolish to think otherwise,” Lindie said matter-of-factly.
“But what about myths? Do you believe the myths are real?” Brea implored, taking Lindie’s opinion seriously for the first time in a long time. Lindie seemed to think about that for a moment.
“It has to be. Myths have to be based on something. You know the old saying, ‘where there’s smoke there’s fire’. Oh, my bad,” Lindie apologized, looking around.
“Forget about it.” Brea smiled.
“Why do you ask? Does this have something to do about last night?” Lindie acutely observed.
“Yes. But don’t ask right now.” Brea half smiled. “I’m really tired. It’s like after dinner yesterday I just seemed to get really tired.” She yawned.
“Maybe you should just go back to my house and get some sleep,” Lindie suggested. “I’ll stop by the office and check on things.” She handed Brea the key. “I can walk from here, it’s a nice day.” Brea suspected that Lindie just wanted to air out from the smoke.
“Thanks, I’ll be bunking with you until I can find a new apartment.”
“Goes without saying.” Lindie waved on the way out.
The drive back to Lindie’s house seemed to take forever. It seemed she just got more and more tired as every minute passed. She practically crawled to Lindie’s couch before she fell asleep. Brea couldn’t help but think that maybe she wore herself out staying so busy the last couple of days.
“You should check on her,” Hermes suggested, looking into the bowl with Cupid. The mortal had barely made it home, had it not been for Cupid’s divine intervention he was sure she would have crashed her vehicle.
“She’s just tired.” Cupid stared at the image of the sleeping Brea. “She needs time away from me to work things out.”
“You don’t have that kind of time,” Hermes reminded him.
“I’m not so sure I want to involve her any longer,” Cupid declared.
Hermes looked at him like he was a three-headed Gorgon. “You don’t mean that, old friend. You’re just frustrated. We’re talking about your immortality here, your natural gifts. Without them you’ll be vulnerable to disease, age, sickness and worse, steady mortal employment.” Hermes shook himself at the thought.
“You mean keep my gifts and my long life? And then wrestle with my conscience every day of it?” Cupid walked around the pedestal with the scry
ing bowl, still staring at Brea.
“You know as well I as I that time does fade the effects of a trauma. Besides, the Big Guy said that her memory would be erased of everything. She won’t even remember.”
“But I will, Herm. I will know how much I have hurt her and how I used her. Even if I somehow, by some miracle, got her to agree to marry me, I would still be betraying her, whether she remembers it or not.”
“I think you’re reading too much into this, unless of course, you’ve done what I warned against, and fallen in love with her.” Looking at Cupid’s intense study of Brea, Hermes groaned. “Oh, you have fallen in love with her.”
“Yes, I have,” Cupid admitted out loud and realized it wasn’t such a bad thing. It didn’t seem as devastating as it did last night. Once he admitted it out loud and to someone else it actually felt kind of good.
“Hmm, so what are you going to do about Psyche and Eris?”
“They have a lot to answer for. I’ll have to think about that.” Cupid walked away from the bowl. “I think she’s safe for now. I think they’ve lost interest.”
“Let us hope,” Hermes said, throwing Cupid a piece of ambrosia candy. “You look a little pale.”
“Thanks.” Cupid accepted the ambrosia gratefully. He really hadn’t paid much attention to his one dietary need since Brea was around.
“How do you think the mortal feels about you?” Hermes asked, sitting in a nearby chair.
“Honestly, I know she used to like me, now I don’t know. She knows what I am and it’s hard for her.”
“Well, wasn’t it hard for you to accept the fact that you fell in love with a mortal-again?” Hermes pointed out.
“Yes, don’t think the irony was lost on me.”
“Then I believe in the interest of time you need to go to her.”
“I’ll probably scare her.”
“She has to face you sometime,” Hermes said wisely.
“I will go to her, in a few days,” Cupid said firmly. “Meanwhile, we have some meddlers to deal with. We have to think cleverly about this—but not here.” Both gods looked at one another in understanding, then disappeared.
“Brea, let me call a doctor,” Lindie begged again. For the last two days, Brea hadn’t moved off the couch. She seemed too weak to eat, let alone move.
“I’m just tired and probably depressed,” Brea said weakly.
“But you’re pale, and I hate to point this out, but you’re bi-racial. You shouldn’t be able to get this pale unless you’re sick.”
“Thanks for the biology reminder,” Brea said sarcastically. “I tell you what, if I’m not better in a day or so, then by all means, cart me off.”
“Deal,” Lindie said worriedly. ”I’m worried, Brea, you’ve started talking in your sleep about some really weird things. I think maybe you’ve suffered some kind of break down. Should I call Jordan and tell him you’re sick? You did take on a job for him right?”
Brea had completely forgotten about her agreement to work with Jordan. She was sure it didn’t matter. He was a god. Hell he could get whatever he needed himself. “No, I’ll straighten it out later. Don’t worry I’m fine.” Brea snuggled under the blanket as sleep began to claim her again.
“Look at her, she’s dying,” Psyche cooed at the scrying bowl as if she had just told someone they had a gorgeous baby. “You know it might take some doing, getting Cupid to love me again, but I have faith,” she declared to Eris, who looked downright bored as she looked at Brea.
“Whatever, I’m bored now and my job is done.”
“You’re not leaving are you?”
“Yes, and here’s some reality. Cupid doesn’t want you. He’s done with you. You need to face that,” Eris said brutally.
“You’re wrong, how can you say such mean things?” Psyche sobbed, then, just as quickly, snapped out of it. “If you thought this, why did you help me?”
“It’s my job. I create discord and mayhem.” Eris shrugged.
“Don’t you want to stick around and see her take her last breath?” Psyche enticed her, not ready to let go of the only friend she ever had.
“Well, when you say it like that…” Eris smiled.
Neither of them noticed the tiny spider under the lip of the scrying bowl, weaving another very unique web.
Twenty-Four: Oh what a tangled web we weave…
“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” Psyche prodded again as they stood outside the house Brea was dying in.
“Yes, she should have died last night and that irritating roommate of hers will take her to the doctor and possibly save her life,” Eris replied, clearly bothered by Psyche’s question. “I will just put her out of her misery. Besides, she can’t hold on much longer.”
“Something just doesn’t feel right.” Psyche looked around nervously as they walked toward the front door.
“That’s just your brain finally realizing it’s sick,” Eris muttered, a bit louder she continued. “It’s fine, the scrying bowl led us here, and it’s never wrong,” Eris reminded her.
“Eris, let’s just wait,” Psyche suggested again.
“That’s it!” Eris stopped, grabbing Psyche by the arm and spinning her around. “I’ve had enough of your sniveling. We’re doing this and that’s final. Gird up, woman. You enlisted me for my help, now accept it and shut up! I’m going to suck whatever life is left in that bothersome gnat right out of her and then I’m done. Understand?”
Psyche nodded slowly, admiration in her eyes. “Good, now follow me,” Eris ordered as the two made it to the front door. Eris reached for the knob. Without warning, Eris and Psyche were thrown back violently. They flew back at least twenty yards before smashing into a tree. Psyche landed on top of Eris, in a very ungodly fashion.
“Get off of me,” Eris said weakly and pushed at Psyche, completely winded. But something cool and hard slipped around her wrist then clicked. She heard the sound again and looked up in surprise. Hermes stood over them both with a huge grin on his face. Eris looked at her wrist to see that she’d been handcuffed to Psyche.
“What in Zeus’s name are you doing, Hermes?” Eris demanded.
“Capturing two very meddlesome creatures.” Hermes performed an exaggerated stretch. “Wasn’t too hard once you understand the machinations of a defective mind, right, Cupid?”
Psyche looked around alarm. “Up here,” Cupid yelled, jumping from the high branch of the tree and softly gliding down. “Good work, Herm, your speed never ceases to amaze me.”
Eris snorted. “I hear he’s quick.”
Hermes chose to ignore her. “I’ll take them to their special cell.” He pulled both women up easily. “You take care of business down here.” He jerked his head in the direction of the house.
“Special cell? You must be kidding.” Eris laughed and tried to shimmer out of the cuffs. To her frustration she didn’t go anywhere.
“Oh yeah, we borrowed these from Hephaestus. There will be no escaping these puppies, you know that, little girl,” Hermes chided her.
“We have something special planned for the two of you.” Cupid grinned, taking a bow.
“Yes, well let’s see how happy you are when you find your little mortal girlfriend is dead. She’s been poisoned and she’s going to be giving up the ghost real soon.” Eris smiled as Cupid stared at her in mortification, then he burst out laughing.
“Oh, I had you going there didn’t I?” Cupid laughed. “She’s not poisoned, you moron. As a special favor to me Dionysus blessed all the wine with an anti-dote. Her sleepiness is just an extra favor to fool the both of you infidels into believing she was dying so you’d leave her alone.” Cupid laughed again and bowed.
“You planned all of this?” Psyche screamed. “You knew all along?”
“Well, we didn’t know someone in the house practiced the old arts. Apparently somehow you were warded from going inside the house. It made things easier for me and Herm here.” Cupid tapped his finger on his chin in mock thoughtfuln
ess. “Anyway, Herm. Take them away. I’ll join you later.”
Cupid smiled at the screams of Eris and Psyche before they disappeared with Hermes. Now that he was alone and looking at the house, Cupid grew nervous. He retracted his wings as he walked up to the front door. He wondered if he too was warded from the house. But he meant no one harm here. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the knob and nothing happened. Gratefully Cupid went inside.
Brea couldn’t get the feverish dreams to stop. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Cupid. Saw him smiling at her, making love to her. She could hear his moans of satisfaction as he exploded inside of her. She tossed in her sleep until she woke up. Her eyes settled on a rather blurry image of the man she now referred to in her head as Cupid.
It was bad enough that she kept dreaming of the man when she was asleep, now she couldn’t even get respite in her waking moments. For the briefest of seconds, she allowed herself to stare into the eyes of the apparition. They looked so genuinely concerned for her, so very lifelike.
“How are you feeling?” the apparition asked.
Brea tried to bolt upright and found her body, though feeling rested, still felt quite tired. She shoved at the hand that lightly caressed her face. “What are you doing here?” she said in sleep-roughened voice.
“I came to see how you’re feeling,” he answered, leaning back and casually resting the hand she shoved away from her on the back of the sofa.
“I’m fine, please go.” Brea sat up on her elbows and scooted back so she could sit up a little. As far as she was concerned enough time hadn’t passed for her to come to terms with what she’d discovered the last time she saw him. In fact she was beginning to convince herself that none of it was real. Until she glimpsed the tattoo on his arm that rested above her.
“I can’t do that, we need to talk.” He got up and clasped his hands behind his back throwing a glance her way as he paced back and forth. “We need to talk.”
Utter Cupidity Page 17