by Addison Fox
Themis—one of the twelve Titans, Themis is the goddess of Justice. Disheartened that her beloved humans toiled in misery and abject drudgery, she petitioned Zeus to allow her to intercede. With Zeus she entered into the Great Agreement, which provided for the creation of the Sons of the Zodiac, 156 Warriors embodied with the traits of their sign. Originally she envisioned twelve of twelve—but upon reaching her agreement with Zeus gained an additional twelve Warriors so Gemini might have his twin. Themis’s Warriors live across the globe, battling Enyo and keeping humanity safe.
Titans—the original twelve children born of Uranus (Father Sky) and Gaia (Earth). Themis is one of the Titans, as is Cronus, Zeus’s father.
Warrior’s Tattoo—the Warrior’s Tattoo is inked on his body, generally on his upper shoulder blade (right or left). The tattoo lives within the Warrior’s aura and, when the Warrior is in danger the tattoo will expand as an additional form of protection. The tattoo is never separate; rather, it provides additional protection through the Warrior’s life force.
Xiphos—an ancient Greek weapon, the Xiphos is a double-edged blade less than a foot in length. The Warriors each carry one strapped on their calves. Although a Warrior may deliver a death blow to a Destroyer’s neck when in close range, the Xiphos provides them with an additional tool in battle. Although a Warrior may use any Xiphos—or any weapon—when necessary, each Warrior was granted a Xiphos at his turning. Although nothing more than metal, many Warriors find a personal connection with their Xiphos through many years of battle.
Zeus—the king of the gods and ruler over Mount Olympus. Zeus is married to Hera. Zeus’s first wife was Themis, the Goddess of Justice and one of the Titans. Zeus entered the Great Agreement with Themis that resulted in the protectors for humanity—the Sons of the Zodiac.
Read on for a special preview of the next
contemporary romance in Addison Fox’s
heartwarming Alaskan Nights series,
COME FLY WITH ME
Coming in November 2012 from
Signet Eclipse
Grier stared out her window at the bright lights of Anchorage as the plane did a hard bank to the right. After miles of darkness, the lights were a welcoming beacon.
She was home.
Or at least what passed for home for another month. Six weeks, tops.
That had been Walker’s latest estimate of how much longer it would take to clear up Jonas Winston’s last will and testament.
He’d been kind enough to give her an out the week before, suggesting she could stay in New York and allow him to handle the majority of the proceedings, with her presence only necessary once everything was finalized, but she’d refused.
It was bad enough her half sister, Kate, had been the recipient of their father’s love and affection for the first twenty-six years of her life. She’d be damned if she’d let the woman have easy access to Jonas’s things while Grier sat four thousand miles away waiting for news.
The funny thing was, she acknowledged to herself as she reached beneath her seat for her tote, it wasn’t even Jonas’s possessions she really cared about. She had a home; she certainly didn’t need his.
What she did need were answers.
And some small piece of him she could keep.
Sloan smiled a groggy half grin from across the aisle. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Walker helped her collect her suitcase from the overhead, and as if time were moving in fast-forward, before she could blink she was filing out the plane’s side door.
The jet bridge was a short walk but her gaze caught on one of the many tourism posters framed along the corrugated walls: INDIGO TRAVEL AND TRANSPORT.
Mick’s company.
As if to simply reinforce the connection, the photo showed Mick and his partner, Jack, bookending the front propeller of one of their planes, broad smiles on their faces. Each sported shoulders like a football player, but where Jack had the heavier build of a grizzly bear, Mick was long and rangy.
Not for the first time, Grier tried to understand exactly what it was that made the men up here quite so appealing. She’d assumed the men of Alaska would be hale and hearty. She hadn’t counted on them being quite so lovable.
A couple of women behind her giggled and Grier tuned into their conversation, pulling her attention from the poster as she continued moving down the jet bridge.
“Rachel said the men up here were good-looking.”
“She didn’t say they looked like Greek gods.” Another giggle floated up. “I think we need to kick off our visit by supporting the local economy.”
“Indigo Travel and Transport,” her friend replied and Grier didn’t miss the light slap of a high five.
Sloan turned from where she walked a few paces ahead and reached for her hand.
“Come on,” she whispered on a tight squeeze. “It’ll be fine.”
Grier took comfort in the warmth her friend always seemed to know how to share with such simple, effortless ease.
And then the jet bridge ended and Grier suddenly realized she had a far bigger problem than misplaced jealousy over giggling singletons.
Mick O’Shaughnessy was waiting for her.
Mick fought the wave of nerves that dive-bombed his stomach as he waited for Grier to come out of the door to gate seven. He’d played the conversation in his head about fifty different ways since walking into the airport an hour ago and hadn’t settled on anything.
“Hi.” Yeah, real smooth opener.
“Good to see you.” What was he, a talk show host?
“Happy New Year.” If he were Dick Fucking Clark.
And then there were no words save one as Grier walked through the door with Sloan and Walker.
Wow.
Mick lifted his hand in a wave to catch her attention and the rest of the airport faded away.
How had this happened?
He loved women. He loved their perspective and the way their take on the world around them was just…different than his. And unlike a lot of men he knew, he loved their company in bed and out.
But Grier Thompson was different.
She was…so much more, somehow. More interesting. More enticing.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He leaned down before he could stop himself and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. The light scent of her filled his nose and the nerves flooding his stomach shifted into something a great deal more interesting.
Hunger.
Walker slapped him on the shoulder and reached for his hand, the moment shattered in the wake of his friend’s exuberance. Mick didn’t miss the frustration that crossed Sloan’s gorgeous cheekbones, and it was that slight acknowledgment that had him smiling and slapping Walker on the back as they embraced.
Damn, but he’d missed his friend. Even if he was about as subtle as a freight train.
He reached for Sloan next, not surprised to hear the lightly whispered “Sorry” as she hugged him.
“Good flight?”
A round of murmured “yes’s” and they were off.
Mick reached for the handle of Grier’s suitcase and pointed toward the herd of people heading down the corridor. “Baggage claim’s that way.”
“This is all I have.”
Mick glanced down at the small roll-aboard in his grip and the large bag that sat on top of it. “But you were gone over a week.”
“I packed light.”
“Oh.”
The first smile he’d seen lit up her face. “You were expecting six pieces of matching Louis Vuitton?”
He couldn’t hold back the grin, the last vestiges of nerves fading in the bright light of her smile. “Maybe only four.”
Grier’s smile brightened even further as something suspiciously like mischief alighted in the depths of her gray gaze. “Ask Sloan how many bags she brought.”
Mick had spent far too many years with Walker and their other best friend, Roman, to ask a question so deliberately posed. With a bro
ad smile for Sloan, he pointed in the direction of the claim area.
“I’m sure every piece is full of well-needed items.”
“Ass kisser,” Grier muttered as Sloan gifted him with a broad smile.
“Nope.” Feeling lighter than he had in days, he draped a casual arm around Grier’s shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m just very, very smart.”