The Greek Gods of Romance Collection

by Winters, Jovee

  Her eyes flashed. “You won’t do this. You won’t because you still love me.”

  He scoffed. “I do not love you, you little fool. My love for you has turned to hate. After what you’ve done to Cerberus, do you think I could ever forgive this!”

  She laughed. Literally laughed in his face. Any pretense at kindness faded quickly. “That mangy mutt will grow it back. No real harm done. But if you do this, I swear to the gods, they will see you burn for this.”

  He moved as though to strike her but held back at the last moment. He hated her, but at his core, Hades was now and would always be a gentleman.

  “I despise your black soul,” she scoffed, lifting her chin. “Hit me, you beast. Hit me hard!”

  Shaking her by the shoulders, he roared, “Stop this at once!”

  “You deserve nothing less! Now let me go—”

  He moved. A tangle of limbs. Cerberus snapping one of his massive jaws, and then there was nothing more but pools of blood...

  Gasping, I sat up, clutching at my chest. The dream left me shaken—and utterly destroyed, because it’d been no dream.

  It’d all happened.

  “Damn her to Tartarus!” I roared, kicking off the sheets and staring at the golden walls of the room with hate, fury, and the injustice of it all.

  If I talked, I was damned. If I didn’t talk, I was damned.

  There would be no out for me from this. None.

  Calypso had given me a short reprieve for her own selfish ends. As with most others, she was no different. She’d taken what she’d wanted—my body; she cared naught about the rest.

  Turning on my heel, I stopped, staring broodily at the diamond-dipped clam-shell bed I’d slept on, the sea kelp that climbed like vines up the walls and glimmered like green and blue neon. The room was both gaudy and tasteful.

  A strange mix of excess and beauty.

  Like the woman herself.

  Sighing, I dropped down onto the edge of the bed. I did not hate her. In fact, Calypso had been a breath of fresh air for me. When I was with her, I didn’t think about Persephone or what she’d done to me.

  What I’d done to her.

  She’d grown out of hand. And no matter how many times I’d talked of that with Demeter, she’d refused to hear me out. Refused to believe it.

  So I’d done what I’d done, and though I had no regrets, I felt the injustice of their judgment keenly.

  Clenching my jaw, I hung my head.

  There was a soft glow coming in from the window. Apollo did not actually track across the waters here, so whatever this light was, the enchantment came from Calypso herself.

  I’d visited Poseidon’s grotto once. It’d been a bachelor’s paradise, with a bevy of nude sirens and sea creatures to warm his bed. Poseidon’s waters catered to nothing but the carnal.

  Calypso’s, on the other hand, teemed with actual life. With citizens that lived and breathed and worked and loved. She’d built a true utopia in this Below, and had I been brought here under different circumstances, I might have enjoyed it more.

  I snorted as a sudden flash of memory ripped through my thoughts: her in that bizarre costume, riding me like I was a stallion, with her head tossed back and a look of wonder in her eyes.

  A wild, witchy, enchantress.

  In so many ways, Calypso was a mystery to not just me but all the Pantheon. Water was the essence of life. All peoples of all nations and tongues worshipped her, even without ever uttering a prayer. Without water, life would cease to exist.

  Because of that, she was a great power and, should she ever wish it, a threat to Zeus’s reign.

  Poseidon was also a water deity, but he’d been born long after her. No, the true power had always lain with Calypso—Thalassa, as I was coming to think of her—but she’d always been a shy, absent creature, content to live out her days as a hermit and so often overlooked by those of us on Olympus.

  I grinned, wondering at a world in which she reigned and we no longer did, and I found it not to be such a terrible thing.

  My position would always be secure. She was life. I was death. One could not exist without the other. But many of the Pantheon were antiquated beings with ideals no longer suitable to this day and age.

  Just then, the door was thrown open, and a maiden I’d never seen before swam inside.

  Her hair was a silvery gray, and though her face was more mature, she was not in the least bit old. She was rather attractive, sturdy and solidly built with sharp features that, separately, weren’t entirely pleasing but together created a symmetrical harmony. A tail the same shade as her hair swished as she swam inside.

  “’Ello, Master Hades, and ’ow are you this fine mornin’?”

  Blue eyes the shade of a clear spring sky smiled back at me.

  There was something about her movements, the expert precision to them, and the lithe sway of her body that caught my attention instantly.

  In her hands she carried a wooden tray brimming with food. Biscuits. Fruit. Cheeses. Nuts. I sniffed, instantly scenting the honeyed mead in the smoking stoneware pot.

  “I’m fine, Miss—” I paused, awaiting her name.

  Bobbing cutely, she said, “Janita. The name’s Janita. I’m about to hie meself off to the king’s palace for the day, but the goddess wished to see you fed well.”

  Leaning back on my hands, I watched as she set the tray down on the nightstand.

  “Did she? Give your mistress my thanks.”

  She nodded, nibbling on her luscious bottom lip and looking far more nervous now that she no longer carried a tray. Her eyes darted toward the door and then back to me at least three times.

  Clearly she knew she should leave but wasn’t quite ready to do it yet.

  “Something you wish, Janita?”

  She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s only that the mistress weren’t sure what types of food ye liked, ye see. And um…tomorrow she’d like to pleasure you.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not the right word. Please you, please you. Aye.”

  I thinned my lips, entertained mightily.

  “Does she? How kind.”

  She picked her thumbnail. “Well?”

  Snapping my fingers, I called the tray over to my side and began to nibble on the cheeses first. The golden squares had a nutty, sweet taste.

  “The cheese is very pleasing,” I murmured. “Though I’m not fond of nuts.” I pushed that plate aside.

  “Yes, yes.” She bobbed her head. “And the fruit?”

  I shrugged, picking at the bowl of figs. “I’m partial to pomegranates.”

  “Oh, right, of course.” She smacked her forehead. “I knew that. Erm, I mean, because of the stories and such.”

  “Bread is okay,” I pressed on, as though I’d not heard her. “And of course,” I lifted the steaming pot full of mead, “I like mead, but I’m most partial to ambrosia.”

  After I finished complaining about nearly every item on the tray, her eyes turned a frosty blue. “Is that all?”

  Smirking, I stood, towering over her invading her space. I was impressed that she didn’t back up. A lesser woman would have.

  “Tell your mistress that what I most prefer is naught but a simple repast of toast and coffee. That’ll do.”

  Turning on my heel, I dismissed her and busied myself with the food. It all looked good, actually. I wondered if Calypso had made it with her own hands.

  Suddenly I was bowled over by a wave and pinned to the bed with my cheek pressed to the mattress. The pressure relented after only a moment. Clearing my throat, I stood and dusted myself off.

  “You’ve quite the temper, maiden,” I spoke coolly.

  Lovely Janita seethed. “I’ll have you know, dil-do, the mistress worked all morning creating those for you. The least you could do was show a little courtesy.”

  I was quite certain she’d not meant to call me a dildo; however, with her, nothing was quite impossible, either.

  Pouring on the charm, an act I so rarely attem
pted, as I had grown bored with my kind, I once more invaded her sphere, this time making certain to brush a very hard part of my anatomy against her tail.

  She trembled and then shivered when my hands trailed languidly up her bare forearms.

  “Well then, my lovely little maiden, do me the honor of telling your mistress,” I lowered my head, so that our noses practically touched, “thank you.”

  She clutched at her lip with her sharp little teeth. And when her tongue poked out, it was all I could do not to lean in and snatch it up for my own.

  “O…okay,” she murmured docilely. But I wasn’t fooled. This angel had horns.

  Standing back, I released her. And fought a grin when she stumbled forward a minute inch. Her hands were aflutter around her head as she tucked strands of hair behind her ears.

  Curtseying, she made as though to go.

  “Oh, and Janita, one last thing,” I said as she was halfway out the door.

  Clutching at the frame with one clawed hand, she whispered, “Aye?”

  “Tell, Calypso, tonight is my night and this time it will be she and not I that screams.”

  She gulped and I thought for certain she would leave me then. But she did not. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “You know who I really am, don’t you?”

  Feeling foolishly relaxed, I walked over to her. Her eyes were so blue and wide. Shaped like a doe’s. In any form she came, I could not seem to pull my gaze away.

  Pulling a fistful of her hair into hand, I wrapped it around my wrist and gave it a gentle tug.

  “I think, my dear, I should know you in any form.”

  Then throwing caution to the wind, I kissed her cheek.

  We’d already had sex. I could have claimed her lips, made her open her mouth to me, forced her to give me her tongue, get her hot and ready for me so that she’d beg me to explore every inch of her.

  But for all that Thalassa was wild and unpredictable, there was an inherent innocence to her as well. I liked every aspect of her personality so far, but the innocence intrigued me most. There were so few things in the world that that could truly be said of.

  Her fingers brushed over her cheek like the whisper of butterfly wings.

  We, neither of us spoke, simply gazed into each other’s eyes. I was drawn to her. And I believed her to be drawn to me as well.

  I couldn’t understand it, but I liked it.

  She vanished seconds later. Simply disappeared. I stood like a fool in that empty doorway for what felt like hours afterward.

  This imprisonment wasn’t so bad when she was around. But without her, I felt every second of my incarceration.

  Chapter 7

  Calypso

  “Shilling for your thoughts,” Nimue said softly.

  “Hm?” I glanced up at her with a frown.

  She was dressed in a soft gown of spun glowworm silk dyed a rich, brocaded blue. Her dark hair was pinned high on her head, with a simple curl laid across her shoulder. And she held a spoonful of soup inches from her mouth, staring at me as though I’d suddenly sprouted a third eye.

  “What?” I made a show of rubbing my palms across my fin.

  As she set the spoon down in her half-empty bowl of clam chowder, a pretty frown marred her forehead.

  “You’ll give yourself wrinkles, mistress,” I chastised her, rubbing a thumb across it and smoothing out her skin, which was much too motherly an action for a servant to take.

  Good gods, I felt so out of it today.

  “I’m sorry,” I folded my hands in my lap. “I’m not quite sure what’s come over me today.”

  “Sex, I’d imagine.”

  Jutting my jaw, I nodded. “Yes, I did have it last night. But why would sex make me feel so discombobulated?”

  A servant—a maiden I recognized as Stygia—idled by, peeked in at the two of us, and swiftly turned on her fin, swimming in the other direction.

  My murderous glare probably had something to do with her reaction; then again, I’d not quite forgiven Stygia for nearly destroying my children’s happiness, not the way Nim and Sircco had.

  Those two had such soft, mushy hearts.

  “I suppose it is time to talk of the birds and the bees.”

  “Why? I wish to speak of sex, Consort.”

  Her sparkling laughter lifted my mood just slightly.

  “It is called a euphemism, Janita. A polite way of referencing romance, sex, and what not.”

  “It is stupid.”

  She shrugged. “Fine, let’s talk about sex in all its glorious detail. Was it debauched, naughty, did you flog that dolphin?”

  What in the world was she talking about? I patted her hand, fearing my daughter-in-law was quite out of her mind. “There weren’t no dolphins in the room, mistress.”

  Flinching, looking as though she’d just bitten into a sour lemon, she waved a hand. “Never mind. What I want to know is, how did it go?”

  Surely they’d felt the raw currents of power Hades and I had created. Then again, I wasn’t supposed to be Calypso right now.

  “Fine. We had sex and I loved it. His cock felt lovely. Yes. Lovely.” I shook my head, but still a frown tugged at my lips.

  As if sensing I was still mulling over my thoughts, Nim said nothing. She resumed eating the chowder I’d made her.

  “I do not think our arrangement is going to work out,” I said it, looking up at her with a little bit of shock at my own words, but realizing they were also true.

  My heart was heavy, because it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t possibly.

  “The sex, you don’t wish to have sex with him again? But I thought you said you liked it?”

  “Oh, I loved it. I want more, in fact.” I blinked, adjusting my fishy bum on the seat. “The problem is he touches me too much.”

  “Mm. Janita, there is a fair bit of touching involved in the act.”

  “No,” I flicked a wrist, “I can handle that kind of touching. I mean, he kissed my cheek this afternoon and last night, after I’d floated his bottom—”

  “Mmhmm.” She bit her lip.

  “He called me by a name. And it’d sounded an awful lot like a pet name.”

  It’d felt too familiar, too…nice.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want what I’d witnessed between Nim and Sircco, but the intimacy of more was rather terrifying now that Hades had opened the door that way.

  I was a woman used to having my way, doing as I willed, when I willed it. Men were bothersome bores good for only one thing.

  And yet when he’d looked into my eyes today my soul had quivered.

  “That all sounds wonderful to me,” Nim said.

  “Not to me,” I shook my head. “I do not want more than sex. I will give him two weeks of sex and then I am sending him away for good.”

  “Hm.” Her eyes clouded and she pretended to busy herself with reaching for the bread basket, but there was hardly anything left but crumbs.

  “What, hm?” I crossed my arms, being far more demanding with her than Janita had a right to be, but I was truly concerned. I’d hardly slept last night.

  “Only that it’s impossible to control the heart, Janita. It wants what it wants. If you don’t wish to have him fall for you, then make it clear before things become messy and complicated. If you simply want sex, tell him so.”

  “I assumed I’d done that last night. I rode him, got off him, and walked away. Surely any man should have gotten the hint.”

  Her brows lifted high onto her forehead. I wasn’t sure why she seemed so shocked by my words.

  “What? Did I do wrong?”

  “Oh, no.” She waved her hands. “Not at all. What you did was probably the epitome of most men’s dreams. Sex with no strings. I’d imagine many a man would happily sell his soul for such an arrangement.”

  Nodding, I threw my hands up. “My point exactly. I find our arrangement to be more than satisfactory.”

  “But—” she held up a finger.

  “But?”

  �
��But not all men are built that way. Some actually do have hearts. I know it’s an aberration of nature, but there you have it.”

  “Are you saying my man has a heart?”

  Staring at me thoughtfully, she nodded slowly. “Janita, you are a beautiful, interesting, mysterious, and complicated woman. You will find that most men who come up against you will fall prey to your unwitting charm.”

  “This is true, I am all those things.” I nodded. My Nim was quite wise. “But I don’t want more, Consort. Especially not with him. We can’t work this out, and I’m in no rush to entangle myself permanently with a male. I rather enjoy me life.”

  “Sircco makes me happy. I adore him. But I am a free woman, Janita. That hasn’t changed. The best part about him is that he lets me be who I am, and I think that is a trademark all good couples share. Your mystery man may or may not be a permanent partner in life, but if he is, don’t fear where things might lead. You might find life to be twice as interesting with him in it as without him.”

  I’d had sex with Hades only once. Last night could well have been a fluke. I’d wanted a partner, and he’d filled a role. Tonight would be different. I’d shield any emotion from him.

  I’d give him whatever he asked, within reason of course, and explain to him gently that there would be nothing more from me than my body.

  He’d be happy.

  “Thank you, Consort. I know what I must do now.” Getting up, I made as though to leave, but she held me back with a hand to my elbow.

  “Be aware of one thing, my dear. The giving of our bodies, while pleasurable, comes with a cost.”

  I frowned. I’d never heard of such a thing. “Does he wish money for his body?”

  She laughed. “Not unless he’s in that profession.” But her laughter turned quickly serious and her visage thoughtful. “You are a virgin, or were, and the first time leaves a lasting impression, good, bad, or otherwise. We always remember our first. And sometimes our first can haunt us for eternity. If you do not wish to lose your heart to him, guard it well, and consider cutting ties sooner rather than later.”