“That is part of it,” she confessed.
Zeus raised a brow. “Well, now. You told the truth.”
“A part of it, sir. I don’t want power, but I do want to be their equal. I don’t want their wealth and magic, or whatever you call it. I want… to be on equal terms with them, because they’re three incredible men who I care about for different reasons. Because I feel something here,” Esme said, placing a hand over her heart, “every time I look at any of them. And I… I don’t...”
“Don’t what?” he prodded. “Out with it, girl.”
“I don’t want to leave them again,” she whispered. “I don’t understand any of this or why I feel how I do. It’s not something I can explain in words. Someone tried to harm me, possibly to stop me from coming back this way. Now the guys are petrified, and I can sense that somehow. They waited forever to find me. It wouldn’t be fair to wait for the next lifetime to bring me around. Maybe the next me wouldn’t forgive and forget.”
Zeus’s stony expression didn’t change. He moved around her again, eyes traveling down her body in an appraising manner that sent trickles of apprehension dancing over her spine. “Let’s say that I believe you, that you care for them and genuinely love someone besides yourself. Nothing proves you can handle the divine gift again.”
“I can learn.”
“The responsibilities of a god are vast. Long over are the days of starting a war over trivial matters, of dooming families and lovers over jealousy.”
“I understand. I wouldn’t anyway.”
“Good. If you want to reclaim your powers, you’ll have to prove you can handle the gift of dominion over love, recognize true beauty, and because I’m a bastard, win a war.”
“War?”
“You were once the goddess Astarte, or rather, the evolution of her. Didn’t you ever wonder how Aphrodite started so many wars? It was in her blood, part of her, and what attracted Ares in the first place. Do these three tasks, and I’ll consider restoring you to the goddess you once were.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to do any of that?”
Zeus spread his hands and grinned wide. “If you thought I was going to set you on some mighty quest you thought wrong. It would defeat the purpose of assigning you a mission if I told you how to win the game. Figure it out.”
Esme nodded. “All right. If I can ask a couple questions?”
“Shoot.”
“Do you know who sent the hellhound after me?”
Zeus shrugged. “My omniscience loses potency when divine beings are involved. Could be anyone really. Persephone is the likely culprit, but she’s too smart to openly attack you like that. Everyone knows about the rivalry between you two.”
“Everyone except me. Are you going to help?”
He shrugged again. “Not my concern. I don’t interfere in petty god squabbles now. You may be mortal, but now that Hermes, Ares, and Hephaestus have made their claim, that brings you into our divine circle. You’re their problem now.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it. If you want back in, you need to prove yourself. The boys can help within their capabilities, but that’s it.”
Esme raised her chin. “All right. One last question.”
Zeus glanced down at his watch and tapped it. “Out with it then.”
“The guys said you used to be a real hard-ass back in the day. Why did you stop doing it all?”
Zeus shrugged and raised his cigar to his lips again. “What’s the point? After a while, micromanaging this crap loses its appeal. It’s the same shit every day, every year, every century and millennia when you’re the king of the gods. I’ve spent thousands of years of my existence bossing around the mortals and ruling the gods of my pantheon—supreme unchallenged control.” He shook his head. “Pointless. None of it has any point. Waiting for you to fail will be the first ounce of honest excitement I’ve had in decades.”
Esme studied Zeus, noticing the way his eyes cut away from her. There was a dull ache in her heart whenever she looked at him too long, like a sore or a bruise, a knot that needed a gentle rub. She didn’t question it. “I won’t lose. Expect to see me again when I’ve figured out how to win your game.”
“You do that.”
Zeus dismissed her by turning his back on her. Esme looked down at the unfinished drink in her hand and raised it to her lips. No way was she going to let that deliciousness go to waste. This time it was as if she ate a summer berry garden with mint sprigs, different but just as wonderful. She set her glass down and returned to the door where Luke was still waiting with his hands in his pockets, a thoughtful look on his face.
Luke didn’t speak until they were in the lobby again. “So,” he said in a conversational voice, “wanna stop and have some good Greek cuisine before we head back to California?”
“Sure. Why not? How often am I going to have the opportunity to eat authentic Mediterranean food?”
He arched a brow. “Baby, I’m the messenger of the gods. You can have authentic anything whenever you want as long as I’m around.”
“Seriously?”
“You want sashimi from Tokyo? I can do that. Croissants from Paris, panna cotta from Florence, Swiss chocolate—anything you crave, I can have for you in a snap.”
“And you’re just telling me this now? That trick would have been nifty when we had that awful Chinese the other week.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t know then, but you do now, so ask whenever.”
“I could use some serious comfort food after that and what Beau put me through at the gym, so let’s get some moussaka and baklava, hit the tourist spots, and you can top off my dinner this evening with sashimi. Deal?”
“You got it.”
Luke brought her out of the In-Between, landing their arrival in the living room of her grandmother’s old house. The room was dark, the entire house silent and in shadows. Night had fallen outside, but the porch lamp was on, casting its yellow glow over the porch.
Her belly was full of baba ganoush, hummus, and a dozen other delicious morsels sampled during a dreamy day in Greece touring the Acropolis and its museum. To top it off, Luke had dashed to Tokyo and brought her back two fillets of authentic sashimi. It took him less than five minutes.
Light suddenly spilled into the living room from the connecting hall. Marie charged from it in her T-shirt and panties with Esme’s Louisville slugger poised for the swing. She stopped cold when she saw them.
“Oh my God, it’s about time you showed up.” She dropped the bat and stalked up to them, oblivious to prancing in front of Luke in her underwear, her face livid red. “Where the fuck did you go for three days?”
“Huh? Three days?”
“Bitch, don’t play dumb.” Then the tears began gliding down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what to do. Your boss called for you Tuesday to ask why you didn’t show up, so I lied for you. I’ve been trying to call and text you.”
“Marie, I didn’t know.”
“You could have left a note if you were going to run off with your boyfriend. You could have returned my calls. Answered my text. You could have said something! But all this time, you’ve just been off fucking him.” As her shrill voice raised another octave, Luke rubbed his ears and grimaced.
Three days? Panic surged inside her, three days of missed shifts from her job, three days of her life missing in the blink of an eye? “What do you mean I’ve been gone for three days?” Esme asked, straining to control her voice.
“Were you boning that much that you weren’t able to keep up with the time? You just disappeared! I’ve tried texting you since Monday. No responses, no nothing. I didn’t know if you were hurt somewhere or missing or… or fucking dead.”
Esme’s gaze darted to Luke’s stony features. He stepped forward and sighed. “I... I’m sorry, Marie. It’s my fault. I took her away to San Francisco for a couple days and didn’t bring a charger for my phone either. I guess we were just having too muc
h fun.”
“You both suck.” Marie scrubbed her face with one wrist. “I lied to Mrs. Robinson and said you were down with laryngitis so bad you couldn’t speak a word. She brought you tea and honey. It’s on the kitchen counter.”
“Thanks.”
“God, you owe me.”
“I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
Marie shot them both—Luke mostly—dirty looks then retreated to her room.
Esme dragged Luke to her bedroom and shut the door behind them. Then she punched him in the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Three days, Luke? Three days? How did you zip to and from Tokyo in five minutes, but we were gone three days?”
“Uh. Shit. Olympus doesn’t run parallel to the mortal realm, and I kinda forgot it takes a little more time to pull along a mortal. Like a lot more. Time can pass differently in the In-Between when you’re moving slowly, and I had all of my concentration devoted to keeping you in one piece since you’re not a god again yet.”
“How do you forget something so important?”
“It’s not a habit of mine to take mortals into god country.” He made a face, wrinkling up his brow. “I’m seriously sorry. At least she covered for you with the job.”
“But now she’s furious at me, and with good reason.” She plugged her cell phone into the charger then shrugged her jacket off, tossing it over a chair. “All of that trouble just to get three really vague tasks to prove I’m worthy to a depressed ancient god. I feel like a comic book character.”
“You’ll figure out what he wants, Ez. Be glad Zeus doesn’t have the motivation to give you one of the real quests like the ones of old where you have to hike up a mountain into another realm or venture into Purgatory to find a rare piece of fruit. People failed. Frequently.”
Esme raked a brush through her hair and fastened it into a simple braid. “I guess. I kind of expected more, I guess.”
“That’s all there is now. Minimum effort.”
She unfastened her belt and jeans, pushing both down while keenly aware of Luke watching her. She glanced up at him. “If you’re just going to stand there and stare, I’m kicking you out.”
“Um… just so we’re both on the same page, are we undressing to go to sleep or…?”
Esme turned her back to remove her bra, granting him nothing more than a view of her naked spine while she tugged on her nightshirt. “It’s midnight, dude. We had a long day walking around Athens, not to mention I’ve apparently been wired on fun for three days after the self-defense lesson from hell. I’m exhausted and ready to sleep.” She hesitated to mention her night with Alex.
“Okay.”
He undressed to his boxers and set his folded clothes on the chair while she turned down the sheets and blanket.
“There’s an extra toothbrush in the top bathroom drawer on the—” She stopped as Luke pulled his vanishing act and reappeared a second later, backpack in hand presumably filled with all the male toiletries that made him smell so damned good. “Or you can do that.”
A few minutes later, once they’d finished with the hallway bathroom she and Marie shared, they both slid under the sheets and Luke dragged her against him with one arm.
“I really am sorry.”
“It’s all right. Besides… I had a good time with you today.”
Silence lapsed between them after that, his palm resting flat against her middle. His breaths were even and rhythmic, the sound of them, and the warmth of him against her more soothing than the heavy winter blanket she’d drawn over them.
“Hey, I have a question,” she murmured in the dark, positive Luke hadn’t drifted off yet.
“Hm?”
“Hera left him, didn’t she?”
“How’d you know?”
“I sensed it. He’s hurting, and I guess some part of Aphrodite still exists in me because I felt his heartache.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t really say I blame her. It was, I dunno, twenty years ago? Thirty? I lose track.”
“I don’t blame her either, I’m just curious about how. I mean, we always learned in mythology classes that she was the goddess of marriage, women, and family.”
“And she is, but being the goddess of family didn’t stop her from throwing Hephaestus off Olympus to die, did it?”
Esme quieted.
“The thing about being a god is that we evolve with the times. We change and adopt the views of the world, the people who worship us, and the modern way of life. Women across the world in every civilized country are told if a man isn’t a good husband, they can leave. Zeus wasn’t a good husband.”
“So she left.”
“Yup.”
“What about you? How did you evolve?”
“You ever hear me spout sonnets?”
“Um, no?”
“That’s because they’re out of style, but I can kill a rap battle.”
“Still, it would be nice to have some romantic poetry with all these flowers you send me.”
“Heh. I’ll see what I can do.” He kissed her head and squeezed her. “Get some sleep now, baby. We can talk more tomorrow.”
Tucked in close and warm, Esme closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
14
When Esme awakened the next morning, Marie was already gone. While Luke showered, she drifted into the kitchen to make breakfast and caught up on the three dozen text messages. Between friends and family, she wondered if she’d offended the entire world.
Was it illegal to unplug for a few days?
She cracked eggs into a bowl and whisked heavy cream into them while the speaker broadcasted irritated voice messages.
“Hey, Esme, you coming in to work or not? I’ve left like five text messages, and you need to pick up the damn phone,” said Clover, the girl she worked alongside during high-traffic, busy days in the store. The message was left an hour after their shift began.
“Esme, dear, it isn’t like you to fail to report in to work. Are you okay?” asked her boss, the sweetest old lady in the world. She’d left her message for Esme around eleven.
“God, I swear, it’s like you get a boyfriend then you drop off the face of the planet,” said her coworker Meg. “Why didn’t you show up for your shift? They called me in on my day off to cover for you. You better have one foot in the grave.”
“Esme, sweetie, I know you’re busy, but we’d really like to know if you made up your mind about coming home for Christmas,” said her mother on the second day of her disappearance.
“Esme, is everything all right?” asked her father, his message a day later. “Your mother is worried. Anyway, give us a call as soon as you receive this.”
“Esme, this is your mother again,” she said, as if Esme had somehow forgotten the sound of her voice. “Marie says you’ve been busy with your boyfriend. You’re more than welcome to bring him home too. And it’s absolutely okay to say no if you’d rather do your own thing this year with him. Please call soon, we’d love to hear from you.”
She grimaced, listened to a few more messages of varying passive-aggression levels from different friends, then started a pot of coffee. Beau liked his lightly sweetened and dark as sin, but Luke wanted his served like lattes with a generous amount of creamy milk, sugar, and a few pumps of flavor.
But how did Alex take his coffee?
Esme cleared the messages from her inbox, returned a few texts that didn’t piss her off, phoned her mother with an apology, scrambled eggs, and made french toast with the yummy cinnamon bread Marie always bought. Luke emerged from the bathroom and stared at the plates on the table.
“The old you couldn’t cook worth shit.”
“The new me has parents who insisted,” she replied, sitting down with her coffee.
Luke settled beside her and chuckled. “Nah, for real, like, if I didn’t have an immortal’s stomach, I’d be concerned right now.”
Esme shot him a dirty look. “Eat your damned eggs.”
He did, though a nerv
ous moment of silence passed before he sheepishly added, “You’re good in the kitchen.”
Smug satisfaction spread her lips into a big grin. She sipped her coffee, choosing class over rubbing it in his face. “Thank you.”
Luke cleared his plate then did the cleanup, although she hadn’t asked him to help. “No, I got it. I don’t mind helping since you made it all.”
Leaving the kitchen to his capable hands, Esme showered and dressed for the day. She pulled on insulated leggings and an oversized sweater that reached her midthigh. Luke was waiting in the living room in front of her television, watching an action movie on the digital service.
“Nice to see you can make yourself at home,” she teased.
“Home is wherever you are.”
“And that was really cheesy.”
“But accurate. Who do you think inspired Hallmark? Anyway, got any plans for the day?”
“I dunno…”
“As much as I enjoy having you all to myself, it’s been three days to everyone else.”
“Yeah… Beau sent me a text. He just asked how I was enjoying Greece.” She rubbed her hands against her thighs and watched an explosion ripple across a field of soldiers before a mutant raced in with magical powers to level the playing field. She’d seen the movie a dozen times.
“Figures he’d check in.”
“But there’s nothing from Alex. I guess I’d hoped he wouldn’t be, I dunno, such a loner.”
“Nah. I’m telling you, that reclusive billionaire thing isn’t an act he puts on. He really likes being alone. Or rather, he’s used to being alone, if you get my drift.”
Esme worried her lower lip and gazed at her phone. Alex had fallen completely off the radar, not even sending a text or a hello. “He seemed lonely before.”
“Then if you think he’s lonely, maybe you should visit him, babe. Nothing’s keeping you from going over there and invading his bachelor haven.”
Bachelor haven? The unease stirring in her gut lifted enough for her to laugh. “If it was a bachelor haven, I’d expect to see sixty-inch televisions and video game systems everywhere.”
Divine Ambrosia Page 15
