After rolling her eyes, she accepted the cocoa. “All right. All right. Forgiven. We can put it behind us.”
“Thanks, Esme. Really.”
She let the warm and creamy chocolate heat her tongue. Liquid bliss. “Don’t get too comfy. You’re going to make it up to me.”
“Anything.”
“Well, I need a date for the Winter Fundraiser. It’s formal, gonna be full of stuffy rich folk, and no good music, but the food is great and the drinks are free.”
“That’s the day after finals, right?”
Esme nodded. “Starts at five.”
“Shit. Sorry, baby, but I already got plans made with the guys that night. The whole team is going out of town to Vegas for the weekend.”
“Oh.” She disguised the disappointment beneath a forced smile. Daniel had accompanied her last year to the fundraiser.
“I’m seriously sorry. I’d go if there was any way of getting out of it.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, I totally hit you with this last minute.”
“Tell you what. I can’t go with you to your shindig, but at least let me help you prep for it.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. The resort hosts the gala, so they do all the setup.”
“No, I mean, let me take you shopping for a dress and all the other overpriced things you need.”
“You want to take me shopping?” Didn’t guys loathe that sort of thing?
He nodded. “I’m best friends with a fashion model, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” The best model to hit the scene in years too. Esme loved Dito’s flair and sense of style, especially how they—the genderbending runway star insisted on “they” as a pronoun—had shaken up the modeling world. “Let me make sure I have this right. Are you offering to buy everything?”
“Yeah. Dress, hair, makeup—all that shit. I’ll pay for it. I mean, it’s the least I can do, especially since I can’t come with you.”
“Seriously?”
“Soon as you’re ready to go, we can hit up the shops. I just need pictures. Like. Lots of selfies, girl.”
“Excuse me?”
His big grin never faded. “You heard me. Since I can’t be there, take enough photos to show me the good time you’re having.”
Outside, the flurries eased until the snowfall became nothing more than the occasional ivory fleck tumbling toward the pristine ground. Luke glanced outside and rubbed his chin. “I put snow chains on my truck today. If you don’t have any plans, I’m down for heading to the shopping center now.”
“Truck?”
“Yeah. This weather isn’t so great for the Chevelle. The snow is dropping faster than the plows can keep it off the road.”
As he had before, he snagged her bag before she had a chance to sling it over her shoulder. They made their way to the university garage and wove their way down the aisles to a parked Chevy the same metallic teal shade as his car. It must have been his favorite color.
“The roses were really pretty, by the way. Thank you,” she said once they were on the road.
“I’m glad you got them.”
“How’d you get my address anyway?”
“Oh, you know, Google is great for cyberstalking.” He glanced over and grinned. “I may have looked you up on Facebook and got enough clues to figure out where you live. Sorry for creeping.”
“Well, my parents thought it was a sweet gesture, so you can thank them for my change of heart. Marie and I were set to loathe you for eternity.”
He stiffened, eyes widening in fleeting alarm that melted into uncomfortable silence. His fingers gripped the wheel, knuckles white and jaw clenched like she’d said he was a monster she never wanted to see again.
Esme touched his thigh. “Hey? Relax. You’re forgiven, remember?”
“Yeah.” His shoulders untensed. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, it’s just… I’ve made my share of fuckups in the past, this one the least of them. I really thought that was going to be the end this time.”
He spoke little along the remaining half of the drive. Something about his silence troubled her. She hadn’t just made him nervous—that was fear, true and visible fear.
Esme tended to hit up the bargain shops on the edge of town out on the highway, but Luke drove them out of Old Ashfall and into the city proper, parking at an upscale shopping center closer to the hospital. There wasn’t a mainstream department store in sight there.
Awnings stretched across the walkways to shelter passing shoppers and protect the walkways from the snowfall, and decorative heaters set at concise intervals provided a comfortable aura of heat.
Luke offered his arm once they were out of the truck and led the way into the maze of shops. Eventually they came across a window displaying party dresses and suits. He opened the door and gestured her to go ahead. “After you.”
An attendant met them inside and offered to help in the search. It wasn’t the sort of shopping Esme was used to, but she enjoyed the help. The woman pulled a few dresses from the racks she might not have grabbed on her own and led the way to the changing rooms.
“You gonna be okay out here?” Esme asked. “I hate clothes shopping and always take forever. Sorry.”
Luke took a seat on the chair opposite the dressing rooms and unlocked his phone with a thumb press. “I’m cool. I can wait all evening.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Try on whatever you like for as long as you want.” He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, and those honey-gold eyes twinkled with mischief. “Especially if you let me see some of the winners. Cool?”
“Fine.”
The first dress clung to her like a second skin. She tugged and pulled at it, hating the short hemline and the itchy sleeves. Luke whistled when she came out.
“You look hot in green.”
“It itches.”
“Oh. Well, try something else, then.”
With help from the attendant, she had no shortage of dresses. Long ones, short ones, tight, loose, and all variety of styles. Nothing really made her feel comfortable, though, or won her over. She always managed to find some flaw, whether it was the way the dress emphasized her hips or flattened her modest bosom.
Fifteen more minutes passed before she emerged barefoot from the dressing room to show Luke the latest pick, a knee-length dress in taupe silk with a bloused waist. “What do you think?”
His gaze flicked up from the phone. He didn’t disguise his wince. “Eh, it’s okay. But kinda looks like something a grandma would wear.”
“Try this one, dear.” The attendant brought over another dress, as well as a shoebox. “I think you’ll enjoy this one.”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should just call it quits, Luke.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s only five. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and you can’t expect to find a ‘knock ’em dead’ dress in thirty minutes. C’mon, give it one last try, at least since Betsy went and found that for you.”
“Fine.”
One more dress, she could do that. She stripped off the unsuitable dress and situated it on the hanger. Looking at it now on the wall, she agreed with his assessment.
Her grandmother would have worn that dress proudly to church services on Sunday morning.
Esme wrinkled her nose and examined the final offering. Hanging up, it didn’t look like much, so she didn’t harbor much hope for it being any better than the rest.
Then she wiggled into it, and the reflection in the mirror changed her entire perception of their evening shopping experience.
Esme smoothed her fingers over the soft curve-hugging cashmere, the perfect shade of wine red against her golden olive complexion. It flattered her shape and revealed a teasing hint of cleavage, enough to lure the eye without becoming tawdry and inappropriate. A flirty hem danced around her thighs in front and was longer in back.
“Winner.”
Then she twisted and plucked at the dangling tag to reveal an outrageous $1,019 price.
She gasped, dropping it. “Figures.” The other dresses had been another label, nothing more than three or four hundred dollars.
“You doing okay in there?” Luke called out.
“Yeah, just taking this one off.”
“But I haven’t seen it. Come on out.”
“But—”
“Please? You promised. Every dress I get to look at.”
“Fine.” She slipped into the shoes brought to match the dress. Velvet the same color as the dress covered the three-inch platform heels.
After a final glance in the mirror, she parted the curtain and stepped outside the dressing room. Luke rose from his seat and gave her a standing ovation like she’d performed in front of an audience.
“I think that’s the one. Go on. Do a little twirl.”
“I will break my neck if I twirl in these heels.”
“You won’t.”
She didn’t, but a man passing by rubbernecked long enough to stumble into a store display advertising a 10 percent off sale on lingerie. His wife scowled and slapped his arm.
“I don’t know how models like Dito strut down a catwalk in heels like this.”
“Nah, those are usually taller. I watched Dito try on a pair of six-inch stilettos that looked like a nine-hundred-dollar manslaughter attempt in the making.”
“Nine hundred dollars.”
He nodded. “Oh yeah. One basic pair of Louboutins will run that. Anyway, you look amazing, Esme. This is definitely the one you should wear.”
“Luke, I can’t take this dress. It costs a grand.”
“So?”
“A grand,” she repeated.
He nodded slowly. “Right. I caught that bit. Now why can’t you take it?”
Heat rushed over her neck and flooded her face. Had the dress not been pulled off the rack, she would have assumed it had been designed with her in mind.
“Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s yours. Please. I think the cost is a pittance compared to what I did. Nothing can make up for that.”
“Sweetheart, let him buy the dress.” Another attendant stood stocking a display of five-hundred-dollar sweaters. Her makeup settled into the lines of her face, blue eyeshadow and hot pink lips clashing. “An apology doesn’t get more heartfelt than that.”
Mimi—as Esme dubbed the older woman in her thoughts, reminded of a character from a popular television sitcom—led Esme deeper into the women’s department and helped her pick out a new strapless bra.
Luke glanced over when she passed by on her way to the dressing room to try it on. “So—”
“You do not get to see me model this one.”
“Damn. Didn’t hurt to try.”
By the time they left the store, his arms were loaded down with shopping bags, because he wouldn’t stop foisting expensive gifts on her. If she glanced at an object for longer than a few seconds, Luke wanted her to have it.
“Luke, you don’t have to buy my affection. I like you. I really like you, and I forgive you.”
“I know. I guess… it means more to me that I don’t have to do it, if that makes sense. When I dated other girls, they expected that kind of shit. Wanted to be showered in presents, but you’re not like that. Being around you makes me want to give you the world if I could.”
“That’s… it’s sweet.”
“C’mon. You said you were out of foundation, right? I think there’s a Sephora about two miles away. You can make Marie jealous with all your new palettes and stuff.”
“Are you sure you don’t bat for the other team?”
He drew up short and blinked at her. “Huh? Why?”
“Because you know what a palette is and you actually enjoy shopping.”
“Nah, girl, you don’t have to worry about being some sorta smoke screen. I’m into you, believe me. Now let’s get you everything you need for a night of rubbing elbows with affluent folk eager to burn up their disposable cash.”
“You’re still going to donate, right?”
Luke grinned. “Fill out a check in my book and I’ll sign it.”
Luke returned to Esme’s place on foot. A few trees littered the backyard and shrouded the area in shadows, though the dim yellow light from the back porch wouldn’t have reached him anyway. He waited with his hands in his pockets, feeling out and listening with his divine senses.
Nothing. Whatever he’d felt fifteen minutes ago was gone, possibly even a figment of his imagination.
Something flickered at the edge of his perception, a ripple in the veil between worlds. Then there was a subtle pressure to accommodate the prolonged presence. It didn’t move. Like him, it waited.
“I know you’re there,” he said, speaking to the empty night.
A few seconds of silence lapsed before Beau stepped into sight. “You felt it too?”
“Yeah. Something was here earlier when I dropped her off. It left, but I wanted to make sure it didn’t return.”
Beau grunted. “What do you think it was?”
“No idea, but something’s been following her for a while. Heph’s walked home behind her from the school a few times and said he felt something too. Something stalking her but too far for him to perceive what or who it is.”
“Whatever. It won’t appear with us standing guard.”
“Fine. Tone down your aura though.”
Beau nodded. Moments later, he was so dim, Luke couldn’t tell the god of war was there if he closed his eyes.
They both faded across the veil and retreated to the In-Between. It was a nebulous sort of space, like the insulated zone between two walls of a house filled with support beams and studs, but little else, existing only as a pathway for supernatural beings and creatures of the other worlds. He’d heard some gods refer to it as reality’s glue, or the bond that kept all the realms together.
Waiting there, some time passed, and it was all the more dull since his cell phone didn’t operate in the nowhere space and he couldn’t even text Esme to ask if she was awake.
Luke grunted. “I think we’re worried for noth—”
It shot out of the sky, all feathers and foulness, and crashed through the living room window and into the house.
Beau moved first. “Shit!”
But Luke was faster. He emerged from the In-Between inside the living room and caught the filthy bird in the chest with his arm. After clotheslining it, he flung it with all his might into the In-Between, crashing through the barrier with it and losing track of Beau.
In the real world, lights popped on, and both women rushed out of their rooms. Esme had a baseball bat, and Marie was clutching a shotgun.
“What the hell was that?” Marie asked, cradling the weapon to her chest rather than pointing it at any possible danger.
“Maybe the wind knocked that branch into the window? I told you we should have trimmed it back. And why did you even let your dad give you that thing if you’re just going to hold it like a teddy bear? God. Give it here.”
Another harpy rocketed toward the barrier, only to encounter Beau’s sword. The god of war sliced it into two distinct pieces with the flaming blade and dove toward another member of the flock descending with her outstretched talons aimed toward his face. Now the air of the neutral plane smelled like sizzled bird droppings.
The screeching harpy tore at Luke with its claws and screamed in his face, her offensive odor bringing tears to his eyes. He slammed her into the ground and summoned his caduceus. Once the rod appeared in his hand, he drove the sharp tip downward into the flopping bird-woman, effectively spearing it through her naked breast.
More were coming.
Two. Then three. There were five suddenly, their dark bodies rushing the curtain, savagely scratching and fighting to get to the woman Luke and Beau loved. Luke fought alongside the man who had once been his rival—one of his greatest rivals when it came to Aphrodite—though his chest heaved, and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d cared to fight anyone for any reason
at all.
One of the harpies ripped the staff from his hands, grasping it in her dirt-encrusted talons. He caught it around the shaft, but it became a tug of war battle to retain possession of it. A second bird landed on Luke’s back and knocked him to the ground, smearing her foulness on his clothes, making him reek just like her.
Throwing his jacket off dislodged her. He spun up from his prone position, off the ground with a move worthy of a Capoeira championship and snapped his foot into her human face. She screeched then lunged at him again, but he caught her beneath the wings, which flapped and buffeted his cheeks. All of her flockmates were dead now.
Beau yanked his sword from the gut of the one who had taken Luke’s caduceus, which only threw the creature into a desperate frenzy.
“Kill it already!”
“Then stay still, otherwise you’ll end up missing a hand.”
Still? Luke grunted and turned his face into his shoulder. He closed his eyes, felt the wind from the swing, and the sporadic jerks of the body still struggling even after the head tumbled to the ground. Grimacing, he dropped the creature. Its blood was on his hands and had splattered his body.
Through the hazy black curtain of the veil, he watched Esme retrieve the vacuum from the closet while Marie picked up larger pieces of glass from the floor around the couch.
“Ugh. This sucks. What the hell do we do for the window?”
Esme plugged in the vacuum. “Saran wrap and a blanket for now, I guess. I’ll call someone first thing in the morning.”
“Something smells like shit,” Marie muttered.
Esme tensed and glanced around the room, a deep wrinkle in her brow until she locked her gaze in Luke’s direction. He stilled, even held his breath, positive she could see him.
“We better go,” Beau murmured.
“What if something else comes back?”
Beau dragged the harpy’s corpse away into the yard and impaled it on a spectral sword, the glowing length of spirit matter glaring red against the dark tones of the neutral ground. “I don’t think anything will tonight. That should last a couple days until it disperses.” Corpses in the In-Between didn’t last for long, usually dissolving into energy and matter that fed the different realms, seeping into them by a kind of magical osmosis.
Divine Ambrosia Page 5
