by Gina Ardito
I know no Jodie. Only pain.
She had to get him to remember her, to remember them. To remember who he’d been and could be again. Think beyond the pain, Luc. Remember.
There is nothing to remember.
Yes, there is. You’re Luc Asante. Do you remember?
There is nothing to remember. Only pain.
There’s love, Luc. Remember love.
No!
How could she reach him? She had to reach him. Make him remember. But dammit, how? Only one idea came to mind, and the mere thought drove her heartbeat into spasms. But she forced the fear into some darkened corner of her mind, cast the horrible memories into the empty wind, and devoted herself to her sole objective. Flying upwards, she called, “Meld with me, Luc!”
Realization blossomed on his face, and he whirled away from her. “Jodie, no!”
She chased after him, but he continued to evade her, zigging and zagging across the acrid sky. “Let me go, dammit.”
Like hell. “Not without me.”
“Yes, without you. I love you, Jodie. I’ve always loved you. I’ve earned this hell, but you’ve earned a chance to be happy. Go find it.”
“Forget it, pal. We’re an all or nothing team,” she shouted and threw herself directly into the center of the flames.
Agony enveloped her. Flames sank razor sharp teeth into her circuits, devouring her cell by cell. Once again, as she had over so many lifetimes, she surrendered to the white-hot blinding fury of fire. Before the pain overwhelmed her senses, she cried out, “I love you, Luc. And I forgive you.”
“I love you, Jodie. Now and always.”
Spinning into their death throes, their auras fused into a violent molecular meltdown. A salmon-colored explosion lit up the smoke-gray sky and hot ash rained down upon the bleak landscape. After the last fragments fell, all lay still. Nothingness resumed its reign in the Chasm.
Chapter 35
Sean Martino stared over the stark world of the Chasm and steeled against another round of shivers. The smoldering ash covered nearly a mile of this colorless land, and his orders specifically stated that he must not leave a single wisp behind. Not that he intended to be negligent in this last service to his dearest friends, Luc Asante and Jodie Devlin. Besides, the ashes glowed a stellar pink—not from heat, but pulses of leftover energy. And maybe, he hoped, from an excess of love. Had they known love before their destruction? God, he hoped so!
Once all the ashes were gathered into the golden urn Sherman had pressed upon him before he started out, he rose with his precious burden. “Goodbye my friends,” he murmured and tucked the urn beneath his arm.
On a twinkle of light, Sean landed outside the auditorium where Sherman paced relentlessly. “You have them all?” the spirit guide asked. “Every ash?”
“Of course,” Sean replied. “I said I’d get every one.” He’d have to be blind to miss one, no matter how miniscule. “Trust me. I got every one.”
Sherman’s cheeks flushed rusty. “Sorry. I just can’t bear the thought of any single part of Luc or Jodie lingering in that hellish place.”
Yeah, he understood perfectly. The same misery trickled through him like a slow and scalding poison. Drip, hiss, drip, hiss, drip, hiss…
“Come this way.” Sherman beckoned to the auditorium doors. “Bring the urn.”
As usual, the doors swished open on their approach, and Sean strode down the long aisle alone. Some things never changed. The Council of Elders sat at their places on the dais. “Come, Mr. Martino. Bring their remains to us.”
Their remains. The idea flipped his stomach. How could they be gone? Unfortunately, his mouth moved ahead of his brain. “They were already dead. How could they die again?”
A dark-haired woman in a snow white toga floated forward, hands outstretched for the urn. “Luc and Jodie did not die again. They spontaneously combusted, Mr. Martino.”
“Semantics,” Sean retorted. “They’re still gone.”
“We warned them both on many occasions.” Taking the urn, she turned back to the dais. “You may go now, Mr. Martino.”
Goddamn it, he hated these Elders! “Yeah, great,” he growled. “You’re welcome.”
Serenity waited until the doors closed behind Sean Martino before she placed the urn in the center of the table before the other Elders. The dozen counselors linked hands. On a low hum, a brilliant circle of energy rose from their connection. The ashes flew from the urn, swirled overhead, and poured into two pillars like sand in twin hourglasses. As the hum eased, Luc and Jodie stood wrapped around each other, joyful.
“Congratulations,” Serenity said, her face beaming. “You’ve finally earned your chance to remain together. This time, forever. You will now move on to a higher plane and explore the vast universe together.”
The love between the two soulmates created a palpable pulse of energy in the auditorium. The Elders breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“We worried you’d never learn from your past mistakes,” Placide admonished.
“I wouldn’t have,” Luc said, pulling Jodie tighter against his side. “If not for my better half.”
“You are equal halves,” Placide corrected. “Two halves of the same whole.”
“A beautiful whole,” Serenity added. “Do either of you have any questions you’d like answered before you continue onward?”
Jodie shook her head. “I only wish to thank you for all you’ve done for us.”
Serenity offered her a single nod. “And you, Luc? Any regrets?”
His eyes flashed over Jodie with such devotion, sparks ignited between them. “Not a single one. I’m content to leave the villains to your judgment and focus solely on Jodie from now on.”
“Wonderful!” Serenity clapped. “Close your eyes, both of you.”
Placide rose to stand beside her. When the soulmates had done as she directed, each counselor focused their skills on their one-time subjects. Jodie and Luc bonded into a rope of energy chains spinning in a singular vortex, increasing in speed until they became a blur of color. The roof above them slid open, and the vortex flew into the sky.
“Farewell, my darlings,” Serenity murmured. “May you know only joy and love for the rest of eternity.”
As the roof closed again, Serenity and Placide returned to their places at the table. “Who’s next?” another Elder asked.
Serenity’s hand glided to a pile of golden scrolls in the center of the table. She selected one, unrolled the parchment, and read the name engraved inside. “Sean Martino, former detective with the New York Police Department…”
~~~~
About the Author
Gina Ardito, a native of Long Island, has always believed the two most important qualities in life are love and laughter. So it’s only natural she’d combine the two in her written works. When not writing, she loves and laughs with her husband, Philip; their two children, Tori and Nick; a bionic dog; one cat with a foot fetish and another affectionately known as The Skitten. She also writes historical romance under the pen name, Katherine Brandon. For additional information about Gina or her books, please visit her websites: http://www.ginaardito.com and http://www.katherinebrandon.com
Coming Soon from Gina Ardito:
Chasing Adonis
Prologue
Persephone, goddess of the Underworld, fought to stifle her delight at this luscious turn of events.
Lines of grief etched Aphrodite’s brow. The goddess of love and beauty looked anything but the part. Swollen, red-rimmed eyes stared out from sunken, pale cheeks. Her normally lustrous hair hung lank down her back. Persephone’s sharp vision, well accustomed to her gloomy surroundings, even noted a few tangles and snarls among those famous golden curls.
Yes, today was a very good day. A day she intended to savor as long as possible.
“Well, Aphrodite?” She stood, arms akimbo, sandaled foot tapping impatiently on the agate floor. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“Please,
have mercy,” Aphrodite exclaimed, falling to her knees. “You know how I loved Adonis. Return him to me, I beg of you.”
Her pitiful cries bounced off Persephone’s cold heart like arrows against Apollo’s shield. “There is nothing I can do, daughter of Zeus. Ares sent the boar to kill Adonis. I have no power to change the fates of mortals. Even now Charon rows your lover’s body across the River Acheron to us.”
Aphrodite’s keening wail filled the ghostly air as she tore at her hair. “You have no heart, Persephone!”
Before Persephone might argue, a whispered voice filled her senses. “Show my niece compassion, beautiful one.”
She turned to where her husband, Hades, sat upon his ebony throne. At her questioning look, he nodded. In her mind, an idea blossomed. A terribly clever idea. Biting back another smile, she returned her attention to the overwrought goddess prostrate at her feet. “Rise, Aphrodite. Rise and hear my words.”
The weeping deity quieted at once and stood, focusing tear-rimmed eyes upon Hades’s queen.
“It is said love knows no boundaries—be they earth or heaven made,” Persephone announced. “This, then, is my decree. Five thousand years from today, I shall return Adonis to earth to begin life anew as a mortal. When Adonis reaches the thirtieth year in this new life, you may appear to pursue your lover’s heart—but as a mortal yourself. You must not reveal your past kinship, nor shall you use magic to entice Adonis to your side. No gods may assist you, and your son will shoot no arrows. If Adonis sees you through love’s eyes and returns your affection, you shall be reunited for all eternity. But if Adonis’s heart favors another in this second journey of life, you shall relinquish all rights to your lover and never appear before me again. Do you agree?”
Relief erased the lines and tears from Aphrodite’s face, leaving her complexion dewy soft. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me,” Persephone said with a sniff of disdain. “Yet state before witnesses you understand the terms of my decision and agree to them.”
Aphrodite clasped her hands to her breast. “I swear by the River Styx, I understand the terms and shall abide by them.”
Satisfied, Persephone waved a hand. “Be gone, then.”
The moment her words touched the hopeless air, Aphrodite disappeared. Only the mourning sighs of the dead remained to echo in the chamber.
“You are devious, beautiful one,” Hades chastised.
“I am compassionate, Husband.”
“You did not tell Aphrodite the truth.”
She shrugged. “That only means I have a sense of humor.”
“And when will my niece learn the full details of Adonis’s return to earth?”
Her laughter tinkled through the Underworld, an unusual sound in such a somber setting. “I should imagine the moment Adonis is reborn a female.”
Chapter One
The Big Three-Oh.
Adara Berros stared at her reflection in the dance club’s ladies room mirror. Did she look any different? She certainly didn’t feel any different than she had fifteen minutes ago. When she was still twenty-nine.
The smoky shadow, mascara, and liner she’d drawn on earlier this evening couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes. Thirty years old, and she’d already seen too much of the world. Too much ugliness, too much death. Even the half-dozen margaritas she’d downed at tonight’s birthday celebration hadn’t brightened her bleak mood.
She studied her blotchy skin. Maybe she should switch to vodka martinis. Tequila prematurely aged a woman.
On a rising crescendo of dance music, the restroom door squealed open, and a gaggle of giggling young women stumbled inside.
“Did you see the hottie who just came in?” one of them asked, gaze still pinned to the bar area behind the open door. She wore a silver spangled halter top and jeans that looked painted on her size two frame. “Omigod, he’s gawr-jus!”
“You’re engaged, Lizzie,” her similarly shiny, skin-tight outfitted companion remarked with a smirk.
“I know,” the first woman replied as she let the door swing shut. “I can look, but can’t touch.”
They broke into cackling laughter, raucous as crows, then lined up near the row of stalls. Adara took one last opportunity to straighten the gold pendant that lay at the center of her neckline. The medallion, with Apollo’s head engraved on one side, the Parthenon on the other, was the last gift she’d ever received from her mother. Today of all days, she missed her mom. Even wearing this reminder didn’t ease her grief.
With a sigh, she left the restroom. The heavy whumpa-whumpa-whumpa of the dance music reverberated through her bones until the familiar tune engendered a what-the-hell reaction from her. The 70’s disco classic, Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel. Really? Who chose this moldy oldie? She wended her way through the undulating throng toward the bar where her friends perched on stools, their collection of purses holding her seat until she returned.
Jayne spotted her first. “Woo-hoo!” she shouted, waving frantically. “Just in time, Dara. We’re doing shots. Come on.”
Adara’s stomach pitched. God, no. She’d hoped the tequila would numb her tonight. Instead, the caustic liquor had only nauseated her. As she reached her circle of friends: loud and chunky Jayne, short and sassy Renee, and fresh-faced Chloe, she shook her head. “Sorry, girls, but I’m out.”
A chorus of “Awwww…” erupted.
“You can’t leave yet,” Jayne whined. Through teeth clamped in a dazzling smile, she added, “Take a look at what just walked in. Corner of the bar. Behind me.”
Adara glanced over Jayne’s shoulder.
“Be cool,” Renee admonished with a quick elbow jab to Adara’s upper arm.
The moment her gaze locked on the stranger at the bar, Adara understood the fuss. Despite the dimness of the bar area in contrast with the multi-colored lights swirling on the dance floor, he seemed to glow golden. He was dressed entirely in white, yet the lack of color only enhanced his brilliance. His hair, a gleam of sunshine, framed a leonine face and cascaded to his broad shoulders. At least a dozen women hovered around him like beautiful butterflies entranced by a flame.
He must have sensed her staring because he looked in her direction and smiled at her. Adara’s knees buckled. His smile practically caressed her from the juncture at her neck all the way down to her toes.
Happy birthday, my darling. His voice, a husky murmur in her ear, sent delicious shivers across her flesh.
“You okay, Dara?” Jayne cocked her head and stared at her through eyes glassy with the effects of too much tequila.
She waved off Jayne’s concern, as well as her vivid imagination. Stupid. Now she was hearing men talk in her head. Drop dead sexy men, she amended as she dared another look across the bar. When their gazes locked a second time, he moved, with fluid grace, away from the crush of desperate women preening for his attention. Hypnotized, Adara stood stone still and watched his approach.
Don’t be afraid, Adara.
His use of her name, even if it was only in her head, broke the spell. Panic set in. Shuffling through the pile of purses on her stool, she located the familiar pink pleather handle and yanked hers out. “I don’t feel very good,” she blurted. “I’m gonna grab a cab and head home.”
Wait for me, my darling. We need to be alone.
Terror constricted her throat. The beautiful stranger was here for her. If his Vulcan mind-meld game hadn’t told her, his intense focus as he strode toward her clinched her suspicions.
“Adaraaaaa!” Chloe whined. “It’s your birthday. You can’t go home yet.”
“And that guy is coming over here,” Jayne said. “I think he’s interested in one of us.”
“In me,” Adara whispered hoarsely. Her throat tightened, fear becoming a noose around her neck. “He’s staring at me.”
“Lucky you,” Jayne replied with an exaggerated leer.
“No. I have to get out of here. Now.” Before anyone could stop her, she turned and fled onto the dance floor.
“Stay away from me!” she shouted over the voice in her head and the music pumping through the club’s speakers. Jostled by the throng of dancers, she zipped like a pinball, bouncing off a couple to the right, a cluster of girls on the left, aimed for the rear of the dance club. Screw the cab. She was going to have to make a run for it.
Pete, one of the bartenders, coming from the backroom, stopped her cold. “Whoa, easy there, sweetheart. You can’t go out that way.”
“Please.” Wild with the panic pulsing in her veins, she clasped her hands. “Someone’s after me.”
His attitude went from annoyed at another drunken chick to protective guardian. “You sure?”
She craned her neck to see where he was, couldn’t find him in the crowd.
Adara. Please. I mean you no harm.
She nodded at Pete. “He’s out there somewhere.”
“Okay, okay. Come with me.” One arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her close against him, shielding her with his brawn.
She nuzzled into the softness of his black t-shirt, her fingers clutching the belt loop of his jeans. He smelled of liquor and sweat.
Pushing open the door behind him, he hustled her inside. Once the door shut firmly behind them, she broke out of his hold. He flipped on the light, which nearly scalded her with the sudden glare. He’d taken her into the storage room. Cases of flavored vodkas, rum, and tequila lined the walls.
“Who is this guy?” Pete asked urgently. “Do you want me to call the cops?” He gestured to a black phone mounted on the wall.
Did she? And what would she tell them? That some gorgeous guy was trying to pick her up in a bar, but she wasn’t interested? Hardly a 911 emergency. If they didn’t arrest her for wasting their time, they’d just shake their heads and go back to their coffee and doughnuts.
“No,” she told Pete at last. “Can I…?” She swallowed hard, tried to slow her pounding heart with a deep, shuddering inhale, exhale. “Can I just hide out here for a while? Maybe he’ll think I slipped out the back?”