Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9)

by Annalise Nixon

  “Hey, do me a favor,” he yelled after her. “Don’t neuter him.”

  “Why, Vulcan,” she said, pausing and turning to look at him, both hands on the waist of her low-slung leather pants. “You’ve actually learned to play nice.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” He swiped his hand down his face. “These wolves are actually…”

  “Come on, V, say it. Say it. They’re friends.”

  “Screw you.”

  “You wish.” Oshun took two steps backwards and gestured down her body with both hands. “I told you thousands of years ago that you can’t handle all this.”

  “You’re probably right.” He laughed and shook his head. The woman was a nutcase. But unlike most women, she was loyal. Once again, his gaze landed on Mandy, but this time she walked toward him.

  “Hey, Vulcan.” Mandy said, nodding at the spot vacated by Oshun. “You mind?”

  “There’s always room for you,” Vulcan answered. And not just on the couch. If his memory served him correctly, when they had last hooked up they’d both left sated. She’d trailed that beautiful chestnut-colored hair down his body. And feeling it on his thighs… Yeah, he was delighted to see her tonight.

  “Is that your… are you two involved?” Mandy shifted her body, stretching a leg across the couch’s seat and an arm across its back. “I’ve never seen you look so unguarded. Is she your one?”

  If he’d been drinking he surely would have spewed the drink all over the place when he laughed. “No.” He shook his head. “Are you kidding me?” Vulcan moved closer, lifting one of her long legs then placing it on his thigh.

  Mandy’s frown indicated she wasn’t. “I don’t want to make any assumptions, but why not? She’s beautiful. Scary, but beautiful.”

  “And… you just answered the question. Let’s move on to a more pleasurable topic—you and me.”

  “What I had in mind involves our mouths, but very little talking.”

  “That sounds like a—” his phone buzzed again, and he knew it was Destiny. When she called, it was rarely this late, and for her to call twice?

  Shit.

  “Sweetheart, would you mind grabbing us a couple of drinks? I have to take a call.” He owed explanations to no one, and rarely gave them. But seeing as he planned to get naked with Mandy soon, the least he could do was be polite.

  He stood.

  Mandy followed, rubbing her breast against his arm as she rose. “Not at all.” When she sashayed across the room, the exaggerated sway of her hips ensured she kept his attention.

  And she did, at least until she was three feet away.

  He peered at his phone and saw that Destiny had left two voicemails then finally a text saying she was home and fine.

  What the hell?

  Vulcan walked to Leandro’s office and closed the door behind him. Oshun, Mandy, the pack—none of them mattered if Destiny was in some type of danger. Yes, he had every intention of destroying her, but that was his duty and his alone.

  He hit the play button, and listened to her soft breathy voice.

  “I know you’re busy. It’s Friday night, and you have a life. But, I… um… wanted to let you know I was okay so you wouldn’t worry. Not that you would, because you don’t really know me. I mean… not that that’s a bad thing.”

  Her voice trembled more than normal, but the babbling was cute. Even if she was his sworn enemy.

  “I’m in my car. No monsters jumped out from behind the seat. Wow,” she said, laughing nervously. “I must sound like a complete basket case. But anyway… goodbye.”

  In the space of less than a nanosecond, he played various scenarios through his mind and liked none of them. Destiny was too damned nice and far too trusting. Which was why he’d taken to seeing that she was safe when she closed that damned gallery most nights. Oh, she didn’t know he was around, but if any harm came to her it would be because he willed it, not because of some random meth-head.

  It was still early and would only take a second for him to ensure her safety, return, have a beer, then spend some quality time with Mandy.

  He closed his eyes and willed himself to Destiny’s small house on the outskirts of town. The house resembled her gallery, full of beautiful fripperies, feminine, clean and uncluttered—and all her. He stood in the shadows, eyes closed, savoring the scent of lemongrass and lavender.

  It was a damned pity he had to kill her.

  His had never been a life of love and kindness, but cruelty and betrayal. After thousands of years of being alone, he had allowed Amina in. Little by little she’d convinced Vulcan he was worthy of love—apparently—just not from her. He’d actually been prepared to marry the village girl. She and her family would have wanted for nothing, been shielded from the harder aspects of ancient human life. All she had to do was trust him, love him, and believe in him as a man, and she would have lived as a goddess.

  Instead she chose another.

  That’s what he needed to remember each time his heart softened toward Destiny. Women were treacherous and deceitful, Oshun included, but she was only treacherous for him, never against.

  Time to get this done and get on with the orgasm portion of the program. It didn’t take the gift of foresight to know going to Destiny to ensure her safety was not such a great idea, but he did it anyway. Vulcan closed his eyes again and thought not about her cute little home, but the woman. Instead of visualizing the flowered couch and scarred coffee table, he thought of her smile and the single dimple in her left cheek.

  Transporting himself was as easy as breathing. One second Guns and Roses played in the background, and now the soft sounds of a woman’s breath filled his ears. He opened his eyes and blinked.

  Holy shades of Tartarus.

  It was a good thing he was invisible. Because if he dared to guess, there was a good chance he currently resembled a cartoon complete with bulging eyes.

  Destiny stood in her bedroom, staring off into space, a full glass of wine in one hand and her other arm wrapped around her waist. He needed to discover what had happened earlier. Too bad he’d lost the ability to move.

  Emerald green lace caressed and lifted her full breasts. He took his time appreciating the unblemished expanse of dark skin between the bra and the matching wisp of panties.

  Why him?

  How had he injured the Fates to deserve this punishment?

  Suddenly, Oshun appeared beside him, rotating her sword, ready to slay a dragon.

  He was both irritated and flattered. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I felt your distress and…” She looked around the room and chuckled when her gaze landed on Destiny. “I’m not the pervert watching some woman… Blessed be, it’s… it’s Amina.” Oshun squeezed his bicep. “V… I’m so—”

  “Don’t you dare. I neither want nor need your sympathy.”

  “That woman is not Amina.” Oshun rubbed a hand across her short hair. “I mean it is Amina, but not. That woman didn’t make Amina’s mistakes and shouldn’t be held accountable for them.”

  “The hell she shouldn’t.” Vulcan jerked away from Oshun’s touch. “I’ve waited thousands of years for my revenge. The fact that I’ve allowed her over three decades of life is generous.” He stared at the treacherous body housing Amina’s soul.

  “Are you? Because that woman is more than… Look, all I’m trying to say is think wisely.”

  “Yeah well, I didn’t kill her the first time. I allowed her family to live, her bloodline to thrive. It was well within my rights to finish her.”

  “Are you going to—”

  “If I do, it will be nothing more than she deserves.”

  Chapter 4

  Since she hadn’t been able to sleep the night before, Destiny had found plenty of time to think and reassess her life. You know, just in case the spawn of Satan, or whatever it was that was in her shop last night, returned to claim her soul.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t like some of the conclusions she’d reached. No,
she hadn’t lied to her friends about being happy. But she honestly couldn’t recall a time past puberty when she’d felt… whole. Everyone thought Stuart had broken her heart. They had no idea that the gap between their pity and the ugly truth was massive. Poor, sweet Destiny had been relieved when their relationship had died a slow and painful death.

  Sad, but true.

  But it was time to move on to whatever it was that came next.

  And that’s how she found herself standing in Janice’s bedroom ready to go to a party. Janice’s bedroom, like the rest of her house, was Pottery Barn perfect. Janice had to be the only woman Destiny had ever known who purchased every item on the catalog page rather than mix and match. It looked nice but felt perfectly impersonal.

  “Okay, trust fund baby, I take it we can’t get you to wear anything truly slutty, but you could at least try this top on with your jeans.” Janice tossed a red blouse which Destiny caught just before it slapped her in the face.

  “Bite me. I have to make sure I have enough money for me and my cats when I turn eighty-seven.” Destiny raised the blouse out in front of her, ignoring Janice and Fiona’s chuckles. Huh. It wasn’t bad. Destiny removed her flowered off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, which she personally adored, and replaced it with the much snugger garment.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” Fiona moved behind Destiny and tugged the blouse down in the back, “but why’d you change your mind about coming out with us tonight?”

  The outfit did look good, Destiny thought, admiring herself in the mirror. Note to self, time to step away from pastels and venture into primary colors. “I thought about what you guys said. It is time to move on with my life. But don’t push, guys. Baby steps.”

  “Scouts honor.” Janice raised three fingers.

  For some reason, people believed Janice to be the good one of the trio. They had no idea. Sweet kindergarten teacher by day and undercover strumpet at night.

  “You were never a scout. You may have done the scoutmaster, but anything more than that—not so much,” Destiny answered before turning to face the mirror, checking out the way her boobs looked in the tighter-than-she-usually-wore blouse. It made the girls look good, thanks to her new push up and out bra. Maybe the extra cleavage was enough to distract from the softness around her middle. Maybe she’d add a workout plan to the New Destiny project. “Where are we going anyway?”

  Fiona and Janice looked at each other, which was never a good sign.

  “When we invited you, we didn’t think you’d accept. There’s a huge bash at The Den. They’re doing it up big—roasting a hog, a couple of kegs, the works.” Janice pasted on a wide-eyed hopeful expression.

  “The Den?” Destiny crossed her arms and glared at Janice. “The Den of Sin?” Where Vulcan and the pack hung out. Great.

  “You know how secretive they are.” Fiona put her hands on her narrow hips. “If the Brigands are letting outsiders in, we have to go.”

  Fiona and Janice were right, but if any of that the Brigands sprouted fur and fangs, even those two would stay far, far away. Why were they allowing humans to party with the pack? Of course, the very next thought involved a particularly handsome, but not quite shifter man, who hung out with the pack.

  Vulcan. Sure, they weren’t friends, but wow. One would think out of basic human decency that after her voicemails, he would at least have checked to ensure she hadn’t been hacked into pieces.

  Destiny shook her head and blew out a short breath. Okay, hop off the crazy train, woman. What had she expected? She’d called, told him she was fine, and that was enough. It’s not as if they had a relationship beyond business. She admired the new blouse, but saw the same hair, same Destiny, and if she didn’t watch it she’d find herself eighty years old living in the house with half a dozen cats. Vulcan could do whatever the heck he wanted, because she planned to just do her. “You know what, that sounds great.”

  “Really?” Fiona’s narrowed eyes met Destiny’s in the mirror.

  “Yes. Two conditions.” Destiny turned and raised her index finger. “I’m taking my own car.”

  “Okay…” Janice’s eyes widened for a flash of a second, before she crossed her arms. Oh boy, that was the face she used before bargaining at the flea market. “That’s doable, if you promise to stay more than five minutes.”

  “Fine. But if we’re doing this ‘make Destiny social again’ thing, I don’t want to just go to bars. Aren’t we getting a little long in the tooth for that?”

  “No,” Janice said, looking horrified.

  “Fuck no,” Fiona said at the same time.

  “You two are pathetic.”

  “True.” Fiona shrugged and grabbed a tube of gloss and examined the color. “But point taken.”

  “Well, the top looks way better on you than it ever has on me,” Janice said, looking so mournful, it was funny. “Keep it.”

  “I think I will.” No need for her to tell the harridan that the top and baggy jeans made her feel sexy, without being overexposed. “Just so we’re clear, no promises about how long I’ll stay in that den of wolves.” Pun intended.

  On the drive out of town to the secluded clubhouse, Destiny began doubting her decision. But honestly, she didn’t want to be alone. That…whatever it was that happened last night, had shaken her enough that today she’d closed the shop and left with Beverly, which had surprised the young woman.

  As Destiny pulled into the packed gravel lot surrounding the nice building, she chuckled as she eased in behind Fiona’s car. Today was full of shockers. The first time she’d come to The Den, she had expected something… filled with more debauchery. They hadn’t even had a stripper pole. What kind of bikers were they? She wasn’t sure what the building had started its life as, but now it was a large, nondescript, two-story building with a façade that looked like it could have been a warehouse once. But the beige building was well-lit and the parking lot was paved. In the scheme of things, what more did they need?

  As she opened the door to her Jeep Cherokee, the slight chill of the late spring air, the pulsating music, and her own excitement hit her all at once.

  But the niggling voice in the back of her head warned her against getting too comfortable.

  Destiny’s girls walked on either side of her, and their giddiness ignited a carefree spark in her belly. She hadn’t bothered to tell them she’d already been to The Den. An endless interrogation would have ensued, and since there was nothing of note to share—why bother?

  They walked through the doors, and the sexual energy was thick enough to drown even the most mundane of humans.

  “Oh my God,” Fiona shouted over the din. “It’s a smorgasbord of man meat.”

  “Please tell me you did not just say that out loud,” Destiny mumbled. From the grins of two burly bearded gingers looking their way, Fiona may as well had blared it over a loudspeaker.

  “Why don’t we agree to rendezvous here at the front door in an hour to check in,” Destiny said, catching herself looking for the familiar head of dark hair then stopping herself.

  “That sounds good. We should—”

  “Ladies, welcome,” Cai said, interrupting Fiona.

  Destiny turned to him. She wasn’t sure what position he held in the pack, but it was up there.

  “Well damn…” Cai said, taking in Destiny’s cleavage and grinning before looking at Janice and Fiona. “What kind of magic do you two wield to lure this sexy mouse into my Den?”

  “Hey, Cai, this is Fiona and Janice.” He nodded at the two women, pausing to appreciate Janice. Destiny couldn’t blame him. Tonight, she’d played up her huge doe eyes with even bigger hair and bright red lips, while her outfit of a jean skirt and jacket with a black tank managed to look as though she tossed it on at the last minute.

  Which would be the furthest thing from the truth.

  Cai tore his eyes away from Janice long enough to ask Destiny, “Does Vulcan know you’re here?”

  “Unless you know something I don’t, I�
��m pretty certain he won’t notice—or care.” What was with these people? Between the wolves and my friends, they act as though Vulcan and I have a relationship outside of the gallery. She rolled her eyes and made a vow to not be so pathetic. Or transparent.

  “Told you,” Fiona said, nudging my shoulder with her own.

  “There’s always an asshole in the crowd. Mouse, if anyone gives you problems you find me or Vulcan. Got it?”

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, but when one of the ginger twins standing nearby ogled her boobs, she put her hands on her hips instead. “I’m not a nun. I’ve actually attended parties.”

  “You’ve never been to one of mine, and I want to make sure you come back. You know your way around, take your friends to the bar for something to drink.”

  “Bitch, you’ve been holding out. You know these guys well enough to earn a nickname?” Janice looked at Destiny like she’d spilled glue on the rug.

  “Argh. Remind me again why I’m friends with the two of you?” Destiny walked away to get a beer and to avoid the conversation she wasn’t ready to have about how she knew about The Den.

  When they reached the bar, Fiona pulled up on one side, and leaned her forearms on the surprisingly clean bar and scoped out the bottles of liquor on the shelves and the five beer taps. “Sweet.” Fiona turned around, leaned against the bar, and gave Destiny a look. “Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten. I have all kinds of questions for you tomorrow.”

  “Me too. Starting with Cai,” Janice said, before waving at one of the three men manning the bar. “Handsome, three bottles of beer please.”

  The ginger twins approached, looking at Fiona like potheads ogling a double pepperoni pizza. “Hey, beautiful, you want to dance?”

  “Are you planning on behaving yourselves?” Fiona asked them, leaning back against the bar.

  Destiny felt sorry for the two shifters.

  “Not if we can help it,” one of them said.

  “Good.” Fiona winked at Janice and Destiny, tapped her watch, and sashayed onto the small, packed dance floor.

  “Wow, that was… um… interesting,” Janice said.