Without missing beat, Cupid responded, “More than anything.” He looked at Brea. “I’m sorry for all that you’ve been put through at my expense.”
“Oh it wasn’t just about you,” Athena told the couple. “It was about Brea as well. She had to learn to trust again, to love again. She was growing colder and more bitter each day. Trust me, Cupid, you are not the only one who has learned something.”
“She’s right you know, I was mad at you. But when I realized what you’d done for me and you never even told me, I had to believe that good guys really do exist.”
“Oh, please, you guys aren’t going to do that kissing thing? Oh spare me, I don’t want to see that,” Apollo said in disgust. Ares smacked Apollo in the back of the head as his first warning to shut up. Cupid looked at his mother in understanding.
“You fooled me, Mother. I thought for sure you either had no idea what you’d gotten me into or you were trying to get back at me.”
Aphrodite smiled dotingly.
“If you would have answered some of my summonses in the past, you would have known I was taking up acting lessons with a very famous actress,” Aphrodite said proudly.
“Take the mortal back and good luck, Cupid.” Zeus winked at him.
“Wait,” Cupid said “She is mortal. If she is meant to be with me, I want her life to be as long as mine.”
“Uhm, Cupid.” Brea tapped him on the shoulder. Cupid looked at her questioningly.
“You do want to be with me always don’t you?” Uncertainty slid into his voice.
Brea smiled. “Artemis came to me and told me everything. She was sure of your love for me. She took away my mortal breath and filled my lungs with immortality. At least that’s the way she described it. It didn’t hurt, it just felt like I was suffocating.”
“You did that for me?” He looked genuinely surprised as he centered his gaze on Artemis.
“I have told you many times, Cupid, I have nothing against you personally. I actually like you. But don’t disappoint me.” She smiled. “She would have made a fine ballbuster.”
“There’s still hope for that.” Brea winked at Artemis.
“What about Psyche and Eris? They sabotaged me, not to mention they tried to kill my future wife.” He looked at Brea. “You will marry me, right?”
Brea hit him in the arm. “For the god of love and desire, that’s the lamest proposal I’ve ever heard. Really, Cupid, you could have done much better than that.”
Cupid grinned sheepishly. “I’ll buy you a really big ring to make up for it.” He pulled her close in a hug and kissed her. He didn’t care who was watching. Hermes cleared his throat.
“As much as I would love to end things on this note, there’s the little matter of my ass being on the line,” Hermes said to the Council.
“Explain yourself,” Zeus ordered.
“Well, it was your daughter who was partly responsible for me having to make a deal with Hecate to find Arachne here. I have taken on Cupid’s debt to Arachne.” He flashed Cupid a grin. Cupid gave him a quirked eyebrow in return. Hermes looked down fondly on the arachnid. “I think my debt should be passed on,” Hermes said with much certainty.
“Ares, go fetch the girls,” Zeus ordered, but Hermes insisted on going instead, citing he would be much quicker. He, of course, didn’t mention that it would give him great pleasure to escort them to their doom. After he brought the girls before Zeus, he stepped back, joining Brea and Cupid, ready to enjoy the show.
“You disappoint me yet again, Eris,” Zeus began with his daughter. “Time and time again I have barely had the patience to deal with you. This time you crossed a line. And you—” he pointed at Psyche with his staff, “—you have made me regret every day that you were turned immortal.”
Both women opened their mouths to speak, but Zeus silenced them with a thunderous look. “Hermes, what is the condition of your debt?”
Hermes stepped forward. “I have to serve Hecate for one hundred years as her personal servant.” Hermes stepped back with a huge grin splitting his face.
“I have passed Hermes’s debt on to you two. He is my messenger and I simply cannot do without him. Not to mention, Hecate can punish you far better than I.”
“Are you kidding, Father? She’s a vile pig. She lives among peasants in third world countries, she’s uncouth.” Eris wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“I have to agree with Eris, she has no fashion sense and is completely hopeless when it comes to personal grooming habits. Let’s just say we’ll never do this again and call it a day,” Psyche piped in.
“Silence!” Zeus roared and electricity sparked in the room. Both women snapped their mouths shuts. “You are hereby stripped of your powers for one hundred years.” Eris and Psyche gasped at the same time. “You will serve Hecate during this time.”
“One hundred years, for silly little stuff like floods and murder? Aren’t you being a little harsh, Father?” Eris said, whispering as if no one else could hear.
“You’re right, daughter.” Zeus seemed to think things over a little longer. “Another hundred years for stealing my key.”
“Shut up, Eris.” Psyche turned and screamed at her, “Nice going. Some professional you are.”
“You know, if I wasn’t dealing with such a psycho, I could have gotten away with everything as I always do!” Eris yelled back.
“Come to think of it,” Zeus said loudly, drowning out their bickering. “I think it would be a good idea to leave them handcuffed together for the duration of their punishment.” Psyche and Eris screamed. “Is there anyone here who disputes this judgment? Speak now or the sentence shall be immediately executed.” It was the quietest moment ever in Olympian history. In moments, both women disappeared.
Twenty-Six: As the story goes…
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Brea said breathlessly with her hand over her heart. They were standing in Lindie’s living room.
“Traveling the way of the gods will come easier with time,” Cupid assured her. “Thank you again for standing up for me.”
“Yes, well I suppose living forever will certainly ease the transition.” Brea smiled, going into the embrace Cupid offered.
“I owe Hermes a lot. We should throw him a party,” Cupid suggested.
“Actually when you think about it, the whole Council—maybe except Apollo—was rooting for you. Given what I have read about the Greek gods, that is highly unusual.”
“I agree. It does answer my question why my mother was in on this. She is the first goddess of love. I should have guessed.”
“Where did you come from?” Lindie asked, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of tea. Brea had completely forgotten about Lindie making tea. “Where did Artie go? I told her it would take a while.” Lindie set the tray on the coffee table.
“You ask too many questions at once.” Brea laughed, releasing her hold on Cupid. “Thank you, Lindie, but Artie had pressing business. But I will take my cup.” Cupid passed her an amber colored piece of what looked like candy.
“Put it in your tea, trust me. It’s the food of the gods.” He winked at her.
Lindie looked at both of them and smiled. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you guys look happy. And you, Brea, did you do something different? You look absolutely radiant. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Me too. I’m going to take this with me.” Brea nestled the cup in her hands.
“You’re not staying?” Lindie sounded disappointed.
“No, Cu—uh, Jordan and I are going to go for a walk, I’ll pick up my car later.” She kissed Lindie on the cheek. “Thanks for the tea and hospitality.”
Before Lindie could get in another wail of disappointment, Cupid and Brea were out the door. Once they cleared the block. Cupid whisked them back to his place. “That’s going to take some getting used to,” Brea repeated.
“Yes, and you’re going to have to learn to do that yourself.” Cupid took the cup out of her
hands. “Now, it’s tradition to make love like crazy on your wedding day.” Cupid gave her a mischievous smile.
“We’re not married,” Brea said, backing up toward the guest bedroom.
“No, but we should practice so we’ll know what we’re doing when the day comes.” Cupid made a grab for her but Brea dodged him.
“There’s no bed in here, Cupid, it’ll be another week before—”
Cupid made a grab for her and this time he caught her. “I don’t care about that bed or any other, all I care about is you in my arms right now.” He kissed her softly on the lips.
Brea broke the kiss. “Well, if you think we need the practice…” Brea began to disrobe.
“Oh I do, young lady, I most certainly do.” Cupid leered at her, stripping his own clothes from his body.
“I want you to so something for me first,” Brea said, taking a step back.
“What would that be?” Cupid began to advance on her.
“I want to see your wings, Cupid,” Brea said. Cupid stopped short.
“Are you sure? You seemed frightened the last time.”
“I was surprised. But now I want to see them.”
Cupid paused before letting his wings shimmer into view. He spread them slightly. He heard Brea gasp, and immediately began to fold them.
“No.” Brea put her hand out. “They’re beautiful,” she breathed, stepping forward and this time she touched them lovingly. She ran her fingers along the soft edges, feeling the strength in the wings at the same time. “Leave them out—while you make love to me.”
Cupid hadn’t made love that way since Psyche. All his other lovers had been human after her. The thought of running his feathers all over Brea’s soft body aroused him further. “Your wish is my command,” he said, freely able to use the power of his voice to seduce her.
Her remaining clothes disappeared with a flick of his hand. He stepped to her, taking his wings and folding them around her naked body. Gently, he brushed the feathers against her skin. Brea closed her eyes from the sensation. “That feels so wonderful.”
“It gets better,” he promised, lifting her up, not needing to hide his strength as she wrapped her long legs around him. “This is the way I’ve wanted to make love to you since I saw you,” he whispered in her ear, biting the delicate part of her ear. “I can hold you in this position for hours.”
He lowered her onto his cock. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers twined in his soft hair. Brea laid her head against his chest as Cupid moved her body up and down his erection in agonizing slowness. His fingers caressed her bottom as his wings grazed her body. Brea sighed in contentment.
It was slow lovemaking. It was bonding. It was two souls for the first time bare of all secrets, coming together. They showed one another who and exactly what they were and still loved each other. So connected to each other they both thought the same thing as they made love—it would be this way between them forever…
About the Author
To learn more about Toni L. Meilleur, please visit http://www.geocities.com/likquidfyre/Pageone.html. Send an email to Toni L. Meilleur at [email protected].
Look for these titles by Toni L. Meilleur
Now Available:
The Prometheus Promise
Tournament of Fire
How can one angel’s wish cause so much trouble? Heaven only knows.
One Angel’s Wish
© 2007 Kira Stone
After wishing he were dead—then having it happen—Chris has given up wishing for anything. The problem? His salary as a Guardian Angel is paid in wishes. He hasn’t spent a one, and after a few years of hard work, he’s accumulated quite a pile. Enough to take over Heaven, if he wished with them all at once. All he lacks is the desire to use them, until Geena comes along.
Geena just wants to get through her first day as an Angel In Training. But she’s already lost her Mentoring Angel and now she’s been zapped into silence for taking God’s name in vain. Chris immediately leaps to her rescue, wishing he could help her. Literally.
And that’s when the trouble really starts.
Warning: As you’ve no doubt come to expect from this author, this title contains the following: explicit sex and graphic language.
Enjoy the following excerpt for One Angel’s Wish:
Romaine stroked the skin under her fingers, calming him. “You’re a special one, Chris. I’ve known that since the day you came to me.”
“This is Heaven. Everyone is special here,” he pointed out.
“Don’t interrupt,” Romaine shot back. Her eyes sparkled with good humor when she spoke again. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes you different from the others. Better.”
She had to be speaking a lie. Divine Judgment was swift here, so he waited to see what her sentence would be. But there was no booming voice. No penalty. Either someone was sleeping on the job over in FACTs—Fair Assessment of Cosmic Truths—or Romaine spoke the truth.
Satisfied that the correct conclusion had registered in his brain if the cat-like smile was any indication, his boss continued. “You’re wasting your talents here. Let me put you up for promotion. You could be performing Miracles.”
Chris thought that preventing mortals from shuffling off their coil prematurely was a miracle in itself. He didn’t want to do anything else. “Thank you, but I’m happy here. I’d like to stay.”
“You didn’t even think about it. You could do so many wonderful things.”
He glanced at the board. Tony’s replacement, a woman named Mei-Ling from China, rolled from “Troubled” into “Desperate”. Her account hadn’t been assigned. That was Romaine’s job and he was keeping her from doing it.
He shifted his gaze back to Romaine. “There are many wonderful things I can do here. Want me to take this one?”
She snapped her fingers, dissolving the privacy shield. “No, it’s time for your rest break. You’ve earned it.” Raising her voice, she called out to a nineteen-year-old with skinny limbs and a gentle smile. “Cyril, honey, Mei-Ling needs you.”
“I’m on it,” he replied and dashed out the door, leaving it open.
Romaine kissed Chris’s cheek and said, “You did good, sweetie. Now think about what I said. We’ll talk some more during your next shift.”
Chris hoped not. Wishes were something he’d rather ignore altogether. Saving souls was reward enough in his opinion. He didn’t want the responsibility of carting around a bunch of Wishes too. But since the chits were Heaven’s method of rewarding their employees, the best he could do was accept the ones he was given and put them away for safe keeping.
His assigned cube sat in the center of the room so he had to dodge a lot of flying feathers to reach it. Once there, he opened his fist, planning to put the silver button in his filing cabinet with the rest. But this one winked at him under the divine light illuminating his cube and he paused to study it.
Such a small thing, these Wishes. How many did he have? Chris wasn’t sure. He’d never counted them. Never really thought about them, except when he had a new one to add to the pile. Humans didn’t seem to give them a second thought either. They tossed Wishes around like Frisbees, so many of them flying so fast that the Wish Exchange could only register a fraction for consideration.
I wish it would stop raining.
I wish she’d shut up.
I wish he’d call.
I wish I was dead…
Suddenly the little silver button in his hand quivered and began to expand with purpose…
Passion and danger on a collision course with the Mayan Underworld…
Mayan Secrets
© 2008 Ciar Cullen
If you found an antique journal with the map to the Mayan Underworld, would you follow it? If you’re Tyre “Indiana” Rasmussen, you would. Tyre’s reputation for unorthodox treasure hunting is matched only by his reputation for breaking hearts.
The ever-professional Troya Twamley is determined to get her hands on the se
cret journal of a great explorer, even if that means joining forces with the sexy renegade and his oddball crew.
Tyre and Troya think they’re about to discover an ancient treasure, but instead find a horror that might end their torrid affair-and their lives.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Mayan Secrets:
Troya awoke and wished she hadn’t. Her head spun with pain, making her stomach churn. She opened her eyes and saw nothing but a faint light from under a wooden door. She ran her hand along the back of her skull, where a tender goose egg bulged beneath her hair. Where the hell was she? Where were Tyre and SinJin? She tried to prop herself on one arm to slither to the door, but the exertion sent her vision swirling, and she fell back to the ground, helpless and frustrated.
“Help!” Her raspy call was a mere whisper, and she realized that she was completely parched. How long had she been there? The earth—no, it was stone—was cold beneath her skin, and she ran her hand along the roughly-hewn surface, looking for any clue to her surroundings.
A scratching noise nearby sent coils of dread spiraling up her limbs. God, was it an animal? A rat, or worse?
She kept perfectly still, peering into the blackness, wondering what she could do to fight off the creature. Something grasped her ankle, and she screeched in terror.
“Quiet,” came a man’s harsh reprimand. “You don’t want them to come.”
Troya realized that a human hand held her ankle, and pulled away in horror, close to vomiting from the fear. Biting back tears, she edged her way closer to the door, away from her companion.
“Who are you?” What are you? “Where are we?”
“We’re underground, in a building they call Chicanna.”
Chicanna. The Serpent House. Surely this was a nightmare, brought on by too much of Catherwood’s journal, too much stress, fear for Jack. She must have fainted and hit her head. Any moment, Tyre would wake her up and hold her.
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