Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9)

by Annalise Nixon

“What happened?” He pulled one of her feet from beneath his shirt and pressed his thumb against the insole.

  A low moan escaped as Destiny struggled to keep her eyes from rolling back. “Nothing.”

  “It was something—tell me.”

  He pressed harder against her arch. Damn the man had skills. If he kept that up, she’d combust into a pile of satisfied ashes. “I’m in my happy place right now. Forget about it.”

  When Vulcan just stared at her, she relented. Fine. “I asked for help, and you didn’t respond. Why do we need to rehash this?” He opened his mouth to speak, and she wagged her finger. “No arguments, and don’t apologize. I should have called the sheriff, not a man who’d already ignored me.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t say shit like that.”

  “Why?” She drank the last of her cocoa. “It’s the truth. I’ve seen the women you’re usually with. They’re nothing like me, and honestly, its okay.”

  “You’re—”

  “Human.” She rested the mug on her lap. “I’m one hundred percent ordinary and completely human.” Looking down into the bottom of her cup, she wondered if people read chocolate dregs as easily as they read tea leaves. “Could I have another please? This time hold the chocolate.”

  “This isn’t over.” Vulcan took her cup and stood, staring at her for a few seconds before walking away.

  “Of course not.” What was it with men? He’d spoken more words on this forced date than the two years since they’d met.

  She turned her head and studied the ornate metal folding screen in front of the fireplace. Magnificent.

  “First, you’re going to tell me about that night,” Vulcan said when he’d returned to the couch. He handed her a glass with a generous portion of whiskey. “Then you’re going to tell me how you found out about my world.”

  “Oh, am I? You’re not calling the shots, and I don’t want to talk about that night.” She took a sip of the magical beverage, savoring the peaty and slightly smoky flavor. “This is amazing.” She gave into the delicious warmth spreading through her body and wiggled her toes. “It wasn’t a matter of discovering your world, I just… always knew.”

  “And you didn’t say anything?” He sat down beside her on the couch.

  He really shouldn’t put his hands behind his head like that. It made his chest look even broader. And those biceps looked like they needed a good licking. Oh dear, her thoughts were growing fuzzy, and she didn’t care.

  Destiny cupped her glass and sipped. All that yummy hotness beside her, and they could be trapped in the cabin for months. Okay, that was a bit much, even for her, but a woman could hope. Wait… he’d asked her a question?

  “Right, sorry about that. Why didn’t I say anything? It didn’t take long to realize no one believed a five-year-old Destiny when she announced that the family down the street turned into wolves.”

  He snorted.

  “Laugh if you want to, buddy, but I was punished for telling lies.” She giggled, too, noting that his laughter warmed her belly as much as the whiskey. “My mother thought it was cute, but my father was appalled.”

  “What happened after that?” He settled in and placed one of his hands against his flat stomach. “Did you become the neighborhood werewolf hunter?”

  “Nah, but Jerry and I were friends until they moved.” She pushed the blanket off her shoulders and shifted her body toward his. “People don’t need to be judged. Trust me, I know what it is to be different. Yet, I’ve always had people who embraced and accepted me. So why can’t I be an ally for someone else?”

  “The capacity for love and acceptance,” he reached out and tugged on one of her curls, “that’s its own kind of magic, and you hold it in abundance.”

  “Thank you. That was really sweet.” She raised her glass for another sip, but it was empty. How the heck had that happened? “Please sir, may I have some more?” she asked, complete with a horrible Oliver Twist impersonation.

  “That’s probably not a good idea.” He took her glass. “But you’re a big girl, and for some reason you trust me to do the right thing.”

  The right thing… what exactly was that? “While you’re over there, could you bring my phone?” Vulcan walked away, and Destiny decided that as perfect as his high, tight ass was, that back of his may be her favorite body part. For once it would be nice to throw caution—and her panties—to the wind and do something oh so deliciously wrong.

  He returned with the glass and handed it to her, but this time when he sat, it was much farther away. Pity. How was she supposed to accidentally fall on his cock?

  Did she just think that? Oh boy, this was definitely going to be her last glass.

  “Thank you.” She took another sip. How did the taste seem to improve each time? Maybe the whiskey needed to fall in her bag, along with that shampoo and hair crack. She looked from her glass and into the eyes she’d really like to wake up next to in the morning and blurted out, “Want to know a secret?”

  “Of course.” His gaze seemed to drift down to her lips.

  “Then you’ll have to tell me one of yours.” Vulcan seemed to consider the request for a few seconds, before nodding, so she continued “Good. You remind me of someone.”

  “Who?” He frowned, but instead of appearing menacing he looked adorable, but she probably shouldn’t share that with him.

  “As a kid, I had an imaginary friend.” She looked out the window thinking about the boy who shared her toys and secrets. The boy with the dark eyes and unruly hair always made her heart sing. As the youngest of three, she’d always felt like the odd man out, so Destiny doubted her invisible visitor realized his importance in her life.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “He was my everything. One day, when I was about three or four, he appeared out of nowhere. It didn’t occur to me that something was odd about the fact that we aged at the same pace.” She turned back to Vulcan who stared at her with such intensity, she almost lost her train of thought—again. Only this time it wasn’t from the booze. “From… ah… everything that I read, that’s not how it usually works. Okay, I’ll stop now. I’m freaking you out.”

  “Don’t. It’s fascinating.” Vulcan eased her drink out of her hands, and took a sip, then handed it back. “Go on. When did you stop seeing him?”

  “Long past the time when most children stop seeing their friends. I think I was thirteen or so.” Would he notice if she turned the glass and placed her lips where he had placed his? Did she care?

  Absolutely not.

  Destiny rotated the glass and took another sip. “I haven’t thought about him in years.”

  “Why not?” Vulcan extended his hand, and she offered him the glass and tried to act nonchalant as he boldly placed his lips in the same spot.

  This was where she should change the subject to something lighter, but the moment felt like something big, important. Life changing. So she just put it out there.

  “Because it hurts. Because I loved him with all my childish heart. I imagined he lived somewhere on this big blue marble, and we’d find each other, fall madly in love, and have a boatload of babies.” Destiny leaned her cheek against the cool leather of the couch. The next words came out in a whisper. “I’ve searched my whole life for that boy, and when I couldn’t find him, I chased the feeling.”

  “Did you ever find it?” he asked, sounding almost angry.

  “No.” She looked at the beamed ceiling. The booze was a truth serum, but not enough to blurt out that the spark had reignited when she’d met him. And for all of five minutes it had burned hot and bright.

  Until she saw the blankness in his eyes.

  “That was…” Vulcan began, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Pathetic?” She snorted, then covered her eyes with her arm. Calloused fingertips slid from her elbow to her wrist and gently pulled her arm down.

  “Look at me.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Please,” he said, his voice rusty as if he
wasn’t used to uttering that word. Like he rarely lowered himself to beg anything of anyone.

  And it brought drunken tears to her eyes.

  She turned and again rested her cheek against the leather. “You have my full attention.”

  “I wish that were the case,” he mumbled.

  At least that’s what she thought he’d said.

  “That has to be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You should share this side of you more often,” Vulcan said.

  “I do, to the people who take the time to get to know me. Ask Leandro.”

  “He ever hit on you?”

  “Nah. I’m not his type, either. I’m stuck in quirky-little-sister-ville or best friend land.” Destiny shrugged and took another sip of her drink. “That’s okay, I like it there.”

  “Do you?”

  “It was home for a while. Served me well.”

  “But now?”

  “It’s time to move on.”

  “With Surfer Boy?”

  “No.” She sat up, stretched her legs, and stared out the window at the blustering snow. “He’s temporary.”

  “I can do temporary,” Vulcan said.

  “I know.” That was an understatement. Vulcan—artist, mechanic, and sex god—was the king of temporary. “With you, that wouldn’t work.”

  “Talk to me, Destiny.”

  “I just wish I could step into the twenty-first century. Get my rocks off and move on.” She looked at him, because she really needed him to hear her. “I, unfortunately, am not wired like that.”

  “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Seems to me owning your sexuality means knowing what does and doesn’t work for you and accepting it.”

  “Impressive. I wish you’d show this side more often.” She shook her head. No, that would make all this extra sucky if he walked around smoking hot and nice. “I take that back. Stay grumpy.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Yup. I should do it more often.”

  “Only if I’m there.”

  “Yeah, sure. Today, and even Sunday, wasn’t about me.” Even drunk, that reality left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Who’s sitting on my couch? In a house I’ve never brought anyone else to.”

  “Even women?”

  “Especially women. What do you think today is about?”

  “I changed my hair, wore sexier clothes, and you finally noticed me. Only it was too late. Typical male aggression crap. It’s kind of nice, but in the end it doesn’t matter.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because if I miss that appointment tomorrow, I’ll probably just give up and go home.”

  “So you’re just going to walk away from everything you’ve worked so hard for?”

  “You have no idea what my dreams are.” Neither did she some days. Chasing dreams were like hitting a moving target, always shifting and changing.

  “You’re right. So tell me what the adult Destiny wants.”

  “Buy my gallery, expand it, create something… special. Find my soulmate. Blah, blah, blah.” She smirked. Not that it would heal the wound opening in her heart, but she tossed in a little more sarcasm, anyway. “Oh, and world peace.”

  Chapter 13

  Vulcan should not only be considered a god in two pantheons, but a saint, too. Truly, how much could one man take? Cooking dinner was the easy part.

  The rest? Sheer torture.

  If he thought her quirky, funny, and sexy when she was casting a lure, watching Destiny drunk and eating with her fingers almost did him in. Since he refused to allow her near the stove to cook, she insisted on helping to clean up the kitchen. It all felt so domestic.

  Then, playing cards in front of the fire, watching the desire and humor dance in her eyes, he knew he had one choice—send her to bed.

  Alone.

  Now, standing there watching Destiny curled beneath his blankets, wearing his clothes, he cursed himself for listening to the small voice demanding that he remain a man of honor despite his vow. The part of him insisting he ignore his pride and need for vengeance could go to straight to hell.

  And he was good with that—until she smiled up at him from my bed.

  “Except for the snowstorm and my minor freak out, I had fun today.” She tucked her hands beneath her cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I haven’t been drunk in eons.”

  “I wonder why,” Vulcan muttered, then chuckled as she made a face. “Go to sleep.”

  “That sounds like a great idea. Goodnight, Vulcan.” She closed her eyes and slipped into sleep before he could even respond.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why? Why did she have to be so damned sweet? Vulcan knew he should leave, but his feet seemed to be rooted to the ground. One minute. That’s all he’d give himself, then he needed to figure out how he would fix this mess.

  That she would recall his visits when she was a child, didn’t surprise him. But when she shared how losing him affected her until this very day, it knocked a hole in the armor he’d crafted around his heart.

  After listening to her soft, even breathing for ten minutes, he finally tore himself away. At least one of them would rest this night. Earlier, when he’d offered her the bed, initially, she’d argued. When she’d finally relented, it had come with a condition—that he join her.

  Under the present circumstances, that was an offer he had to refuse. However, once she sobered, it would be a different story.

  Until then it was either the couch or the floor for him. Seeing that he had more than enough experience with drunken nights, the couch it was. He eased down the stairs, wondering why he bothered walking when he could will himself there.

  Probably the same reason blacksmithing and repairing cars brought him pleasure; the sheer physicality of the act. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and a glass, which he probably wouldn’t use, and headed for the couch.

  “Vulcan, tell me I’m imaging that blizzard. What were you thinking?”

  “Why are you here?” He sat on the couch and took a healthy swig of whiskey. Somehow it didn’t surprise him that she had popped up, but that it had taken her so long. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at the livid Oshun. He had enough problems without worrying about her shit, too. “Can the condemnation and leave.”

  Of course, she ignored him. “Her friends are ready to call the damn police. Because she’s missing—and so were you.”

  “And?” He took another gulp and wished he had something stronger. “It’s a tourist town, that’s what people do—come and go.”

  “Hello, genius?” She walked over and snatched the bottle from his hand. “They believe you abducted Destiny.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  “I don’t know? Let’s see.” Oshun tapped her finger on her chin. “You do your absolute best to scare everyone away from you. The only people you allow close are the wolves, who are also frightening.”

  “Go tell her friends the truth.” He grinned. “I bet they’d love to find out their sweet Destiny is in my bed.”

  “Someone saw the two of you arguing outside of your shop. Then the cherry on top of the shit sundae is footage of the two of you headed out of town, and she looked angry sitting in the passenger seat.”

  “Angry, yes.” He willed his bottle of whiskey back into his outstretched hand. “Frightened—no. I’ll call.”

  “What did you do to her?” Oshun glanced up at the loft then back at him. Disappointment dulled her rich brown eyes.

  “Are you shitting me?” There wasn’t enough alcohol in this realm to soften that blow. Women…

  “I don’t know what to believe,” she said.

  He cursed. “You’re supposed to believe in me. The god you knew when we were still in caves. The male who—”

  “Stop.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t want to make assumptions, and that’s why I asked.
”

  “Gee, thanks. I simply brought her up here to fish.”

  “Then decided to whip up a spring blizzard around your cabin? That’s insane.”

  “And?”

  “Hephaestus…”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? It’s your name. You know, it’s time you dealt with your shit.”

  “You’re one of my oldest friends. But you need to leave this the hell alone.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here.” She pointed to the loft and lowered her voice. “What you’re doing is wrong. Destiny is not Amina. That woman up there is kind, and sweet, and one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.”

  “You know this how?”

  She ignored the question. “You need to talk to her. Get to know Destiny—the real her.” When he didn’t speak, she pushed on. “Or here’s a novel idea, perhaps your truth of what happened with Amina isn’t reality.”

  “Since you know so much, why don’t we skip the foreplay and you tell me.”

  Oshun finally went silent.

  “That’s what I thought. Well, try standing in my shoes for a minute. My truth is the woman who birthed me tossed me into the sea because she deemed me unworthy. My truth is that for the second time in my life I fell in love with a woman, and she betrayed me. My truth is that that woman,” he pointed to the loft, “ruined my damn life. And she needs to pay.”

  “Destiny shouldn’t be forced to pay for sins she didn’t commit.”

  “Oshun, you know I love you. But, darlin’, you’re the last person on this or any other planet who should be dispensing relationship advice.”

  “Vulcan—”

  “No. You shoveled your bullshit, now it’s time for you to listen to me.”

  She nodded.

  “You don’t know shit about my life. You don’t know shit about what I feel. And you sure as hell don’t know what those first hundred years without Amina were like. You don’t know because you weren’t there.”

  “I wasn’t there because you wouldn’t accept my comfort.”

  “Really? Or were you so wrapped up in that dysfunctional relationship with Shango that you didn’t have time for the rest of us?”