“Enjoy your snack, dear. I’ll gather some clothes for you. In the meantime, if you need anything, there’s a call button here by the door.” Agatha opened the door, about to leave.
“Wait. Agatha?” My fingers had gone cold. Wringing them together, I tried to figure out my next move. Suddenly, the thought of being alone in this room sent a marching band across my heart.
She glanced back at me, her smile reassuring.
No need to push my luck. I searched my mind for the right word. “Merci.” No, that was French. “Grazie.”
Agatha’s smile reached her eyes. “You’re very welcome, dear.”
“Joy,” I said. My name would come out eventually. “My name is Joy. Joy Rosso.”
Agatha nodded, leaving me to my lunch. I admit, a hot shower and fresh clothes, no matter who they once belonged to, sounded heavenly for a girl who had been abducted and forced to stay in luxury. Tactless as it all may seem, I remained grateful I hadn’t woken up in a dungeon or worse.
When the next tap on my door came, I extracted myself from the bath and wrapped a towel around my body.
On my bed, I found several sets of clothing piled and one laid out to the side. I make a mental list of demands, one having Faith’s sandals returned.
I slid on the periwinkle dress, soft like butter, and the material whispered against my skin. It tickled across my knees. My hair had this habit of going all springing in tight curls when wet. Without a hair straightener, I tied my hair back with a ribbon.
I shouldn’t care what I looked like, but while I soaked in the tub, I came up with a plan.
3
As in the end of one’s life, the beginning also started in darkness. There was no earth, air, or heaven. A place without light or love, an abyss swallowing up all existence until what was became what is and what would be. It’s the legend all angels of light and love have written in their hearts from their time of conception. If I were a true angel, I could have spread my light, given back Damen De Santis the love he sought, and returned home all before supper.
Regardless, my mother had been a mortal foolish enough to fall within my father’s sights. Which was why my sisters had one fundamental rule I learned long ago: Never blow the kiss of love in a mortal’s direction if their heart does not will it.
Love was a choice. Some people fall in love at first sight. Yeah, it happens without Cupid’s arrow or the kiss of love striking them at the moment. Then there were those who spent all their lives together and just needed a little nudge; they were so close to each other they couldn’t recognize what their hearts had always known.
Then, there were the ones like De Santis. He’s not entirely mortal, and I wasn’t really sure what he was. I could sense other superior beings, but I haven’t been around long enough to hone the skill of discovery. My sister Cherish could. She’s the one who could tell someone’s true self. She held their individuality as one of their highest values.
Damen De Santis had this arrogant, sexy, demigod vibe going for him, and he knew it. His dark, brooding eyes were enough to make any female mortal melt in his presence from the heat he radiated. But that’s not the hottest thing about him. It was the sly way his lips curved up into a half-smile. He held knowledge in those dark eyes that only he had access to. I knew because it’s how he looked at me as Jace escorted me out to the back lawn of the large estate.
For mid-February, the air was warm. I played with the sleeves of my blue dress. No one seemed to care. I walked barefoot across a chilly stone path. The cobblestones were smooth, and torches burned at each corner of the pergola near the pool.
The flames reflected off the water, clear to mirror the dark sky with dots of stars shimmering within the small abyss. I didn’t know which way would take me up, but I guessed walking into the water wouldn’t get me closer to the stars.
Agatha set the table with flutes of white and red wine. It looked like it would only be the two of us dining tonight.
“I don’t mean to be insulting, but romancing me won’t get you whatever you’re after.”
De Santis came around to pull out a chair for me. He had this twinkle in his eye, or maybe it was the torchlight reflecting off them. “I thought your kind thrived on romance.”
I sat, a tiny shiver racing up my legs. Not cold, but not fear either. He walked around, took a seat across from me, and waved for the first round of our meal to start. Picking up a glass of wine and swirling it, tasting, his eyes closed as he savored it.
Agatha placed down a plate of meat and cheese in front of me. I ate everything Agatha put on the plate in my room. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to polish off a five-course Italian meal. I reached for the water glass, assured if he needed me, it would be safe to drink.
“You seem to know a lot about my kind. I know so little about you. Tell me, do you always kidnap masked women and bring them home?”
His chuckle made the taste of the corned beef slice in my mouth even drier. I reached for a drink, brought the white wine to my lips before I realized my mistake. Brushing the taste off my teeth with my tongue, I switched back to the water glass.
The wine tasted like bark or, worse, like sand, not that it tempted me. Alcohol was one of the forbidden indulgences I had sworn to refrain from.
“Jealous, Cherub?” He picked up a piece of cheese and popped it in his mouth. Lucky piece of cheese.
Then I took a deep breath, told my head to stop sending those messages to my heart and vice versa. I had been abducted. Hello! Yeah, I could not have developed Stockholm syndrome in such a short time. Remember, Joy, he’s the bad guy.
My heart begged to differ.
“Do I look fat with little stubby wings to you?” I had a right to get snarky.
“I’d say your curves are lovely.”
A flush of warmth rose from my neck. I leaned to the left, the torch there too close for me to get so warm so quick.
De Santis leaned forward, his hand on the stem of his glass. His dark eyes glinted dark blue. For a moment, I almost believed him human.
“If you don’t enjoy being called Cherub, then I suggest you tell me your name. Although I’m rather getting fond of Cherub.”
It didn’t take long before Agatha came and switched out the appetizer with a generous house salad. Agatha glanced between us. I held my breath, waiting to see if she’d spill the beans and tell De Santis my name. She cleared away the empty plates and went back to prepare the next dish without a word.
I shouldn’t care if he knew my name. It wasn’t as if he could hold any power over me by it. I knew his. It irked me a bit to think he’d known what I was, and holding back the who I was gave me a little leverage.
It’s just a name, Joy.
I preferred it to Cherub.
“I’ll tell you my name if you tell me what you are and why you abducted me.”
De Santis leaned back, a fork in his hand. “I believe that is two things to my one.” Then he shrugged. “Since I planned on telling you the second anyway, I accept your request.”
“Tell me what you are.” My sisters taught me better than to give out my name before he fulfilled his side of the bargain.
“I am an offspring of Chaos.” He cut into his salad. “Satisfied?”
“Chaos?” I asked, carefully. Slowly, to make sure I heard him right. “As in the beginning there was Chaos, Night, Darkness, and the Abyss, that kind of Chaos?”
I hadn’t heard about Chaos since I was younger and in stories about the beginning of time. From the depths of darkness, Erebus, and the egg of Night, Nyx, came my father, Eros.
Suddenly, I lost my appetite. It was said Chaos and Eros mated in the deep Abyss to bring forth humankind. If Damen De Santis was an offspring of Chaos, he could have come from Eros, too. He had too much darkness in his soul to be one of the first to see light.
“I see, I have distressed you.”
Distressed me? Duh! I was the daughter of Eros, and let’s just say my father and Chaos hadn’t had the best relati
onship since the beginning of time. Not to mention, we could be related.
All the food in my stomach twisted violently.
I couldn’t imagine him as a long-lost relative Not a chance! My father wasn’t the only one who had moved on to have a life after the beginning of time. No one knew for sure, going back that far, how it happened.
“What do you want with me?” I gritted my teeth, afraid any second the first round of our meal would come out to present itself unpleasantly.
“Your name, for starters.” He resumed with his salad.
I placed a hand on my stomach. Glancing over, Jace watched me, his facial expressions hidden in the shadows cast by the torchlight.
Drumming echoed in my ears as my heart tapped against my chest.
“Joy.” I’d never hated the sound of my own name upon my mouth as I did saying it for him. “My name is Joy.”
“So, I was correct in assuming you a baby, Cherub.”
Hearing him call me by that name again made me chomp down on another forkful of salad to keep from biting his head off. Rarely did violence enter my thoughts, but the dark toxins he flooded my bloodstream with during my abduction had left me with side effects. It would serve him right after kidnapping me.
“That depends on who you’re referring to as a baby. Appearances can be deceiving.”
“I walked the streets of Venice when it became the second city in the Kingdom of Italy, and Eugene de Beauharnais ruled from within Milan.”
“You should find a better hairdresser. The grays are starting to show.” I reached up and touched my face to indicate his sideburns. Jace stood a little straighter, then relaxed as De Santis laughed.
“Oh, baby Cherub, you amuse me. Which will make this much more enjoyable for the task ahead.”
When Agatha brought us plates of pasta, I pushed mine aside. “What do you want?”
Damen’s face sobered. He thanked Agatha, waiting for her to move out of earshot. He lifted up the red wine. “The wine doesn’t please you?”
“I don’t drink wine.” I leaned forward; my eyes locked on his. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Because you will help me get back what your father stole from me.”
“The woman?” I snapped my fingers, trying to recall a name.
“Marisol.” He said her name softly. His eyes flickered with pain and went glassy with sorrow.
Oh crap, I was in trouble. If my father hit Marisol with one of his arrows and made her fall in love with him, there would be no getting her back. Not until he grew bored with her.
“Is she, you know…” I couldn’t say it without it coming out sounding immortally racial.
“Human?” Damen pushed his plate forward to lay his elbows down on the table. “Not entirely. When she is with me, she does not age.”
My hands fell to my lap. “You plan to trade me to my father for your love?”
It wouldn’t work. Eros didn’t make trades. He would look at her and see he had other daughters, so sparing one for his decade or two of amusement would be nothing. If only I had a way to contact my sisters. By now, they would have noticed me missing.
“I plan to use you to break the spell he put on her.”
I licked my lips and dared to ask. “So let me get this straight. The woman you’re in love with fell in love with someone else, and you want my father to make her fall back in love with you again?”
“You are missing one piece, Cherub.”
“What is that?” I could hardly breathe.
“It was Cupid’s arrow which made her fall in love with another in the first place.”
I felt his sorrow, his anger. Naturally, compassion filled me for his situation. How long had he spent with this woman before her heart found the one it best matched with?
“And if she doesn’t come back to you?”
Agatha came out, holding two dishes of veal. My stomach tightened in defense.
I went from thinking this man the most attractive I’d seen in my life to the deadliest.
“It would be a shame for one so young and so beautiful to spend an eternity in darkness.”
An uncontrollable tremor raked over my body.
4
“Would you like to take a walk?”
What I would like are my shoes and to be able to waltz right out of here.
De Santis stood and held his hand out to me. I got the impression no one ever told him no. Jace straightened, giving me a nod. I rose and took Damen’s extended hand. As soon as my fingertips made contact with his palm, an electrical zing went singing up my arm clear to my heart.
Oh no, I shook my head. This couldn’t happen. My body had gone out of tune from the dark toxins. How else could I explain it?
A girl like me didn’t get zings like that. Or at least, I was told they only came once in a lifetime. Damen De Santis was far from the man I imagined who would zap my heart.
“Are you all right?” Damen asked, and I almost believed he cared. Jace frowned as Damen slid my hand up to the bend of his arm. I wanted to squeeze, more to gauge the muscle under the fabric of his expensive Italian shirt then to see if another shock would tingle at my fingertips. My heart seemed a little disappointed when it didn’t, but then I knew the man wasn’t all flab under the fabric, either.
There was nothing flabby about Damen De Santis. I walked alongside him, shaking my head. Get a grip, Joy, the man wants to hold you hostage, and Eros isn’t the negotiating kind. Think… Think… Think…
We walked alongside the pool; I kept my gaze to our profiles stretching across the dark waters. Off the cold stone path, my feet brushed over the manicured lawn. Deeper into the darkness, the silhouette of persimmon trees and sculpted bushes drew us into a large garden.
Mentally, I reached out trying to fire the mental connection I had with my sisters, but like my memory of how I got here, I came back with nothing. Not even static buzzes in my mind when they put me offline.
“You won’t be able to do that here,” De Santis said.
“What?”
“Whoever you’re trying to reach out to, it won’t work. You can thank Jace for his brilliance of putting a pinch of bindweed in your refreshment.”
By binding my ability to reach out to my sisters, he blocked my memory between the bridge and here. My blood started to get hot.
De Santis reached over, placing his hand over top mine before I could pull away. I wanted to punch that smug look off his two-hundred-year-old face. “Headache feeling better?”
There was no use beating around the bush. “You know once someone’s heart connects with the one they are fated for, you can’t reverse the way they feel.”
De Santis looked at me, fire leaping in those dark pupils. If Chaos had given birth to this man, then Hades himself could have been his sire for the flames shooting up in Damen’s eyes. “Not when they’ve been poisoned. If I were you, I’d worry more about your sire having the antidote.”
Without the ability to reach my sisters, I knew for sure they would be looking for me. If I had intentionally blocked them, they’d have static. Unless, my heart sunk a little, my sisters took the sudden cutoff to mean I was dead.
I might have been born with the seed of immortality sewn into the fabric of my being, but I could still die. Every immortal had their weakness: sever their heads. Gruesome as it sounded, it made me shiver. I, however, am not like any of the other immortals. I didn’t know if I’d die without a head, but I would without my heart. It was my father’s weakness, and so it belonged to all of us.
A broken heart could become the death of me.
Which was why allowing it to connect, to beat in unison with another, was far more dangerous than De Santis’s threat to send me into the dark pit of the Abyss.
Damen De Santis had become more dangerous to me than he would ever know. That little zing to my heart hadn’t just been a love tap. It became a threat to my very existence.
“Since you’ve prevented me from reaching out, I assume you have a pla
n on contacting Eros?”
“He’ll know soon enough.”
Dear old Dad had a habit of not staying in one place for very long. Probably because he made the mistake of admitting to Psyche that she was his one and only. I heard she could get downright scary at times. Not even if I wanted to, could I reach out and contact my father. I’d tried, even though Cherish warned me he’d ignore me. My father was Cupid. If anyone broke my heart, I always figured it would be him.
“You know he won’t help you, right?” Good one, Joy, throw yourself into the pit of eternal darkness now, why don’t you?
“You don’t believe your sire holds any value in you?” De Santis narrowed his eyes. “How very sad.”
He turned, and we walked a circle around a monument. Piled with white rocks at the base and a stone woman wearing a slip of fabric twisted around her important parts. Spotlights beamed up to her face, her finger pointed under her chin in thought, and the other at her waist with a ringlet of flowers hung from her wrist.
“Marisol.” He nodded to the stone woman, positioning us to stand right in front of her. He brought me here for a reason. “Auguste Rodin was a very talented sculptor. He completed this one in 1915, one of his last.”
I want to tell him I didn’t need the history lesson, but something in his voice held me back. He loved this woman. He had a famous sculptor recreate her likeness to hold on to it forever.
“You had this made for her.”
My heart expanded for him. To have someone love you this much, they’d create something to keep your memory alive forever, and it made me want to cry. It was so beautiful and touching.
I could see I needed to make him happy. Held here as a hostage in trade for the one he loved, I had no other choice. Eros wouldn’t help him, but I could. Deep down, I felt obligated. It was my duty. It was something more.
What, I wasn’t sure.
I couldn’t go there. Damen was my kidnapper.
Joy In Love (Daughters of Cupid Book 1) Page 2