“Enough!” Dunn roared, slamming the butt of the trident into the sand. The island trembled as if shaken by a small earthquake. Griffin clung to his pouf, riding out the temblor. Beyond the arguing quartet, the blue horizon began to rise slowly. “I do not have to answer for my behavior to the three of you. And if you come near this mortal again I will personally make sure that all three of you wind up in the deepest trench I can find.” He glared at the women. “And if I cannot find one deep enough, I will make one specifically for you. Is that clear?”
All three women screeched at that, launching back into loud argument. Furiously Dunn waved at them.
And they were gone.
Gulping, Griffin stared up at the huge figure looming over him now. The horizon was even higher, the unmistakable sign of a—
“Tsunami,” he croaked.
“What? Oh.” Dunn turned and waved his trident at the ocean. The horizon froze, then began to drop down again. “My apologies. My anger got the best of me.”
Dunn’s anger. That could make oceans rise and women disappear. “W-who are you?”
Dunn paused, somehow seeming to shrink from a towering form to something more human. He knelt in front of the pouf, still holding onto that incredible trident. “Oh, blast. Are you all right?”
Griffin goggled at him. “I—I—I don’t know,” he managed.
Dunn sighed. “I was afraid of that. I think it’s time for that talk, beloved.”
He waved again, and everything—the pavilion, the beach, the ocean—disappeared.
Chapter Eight
Griffin found himself sitting on the couch in his cottage, body trying to adjust to the sudden shift. “How—you—what the hell, Dunn?”
Dunn stood and his trident disappeared into thin air. “I’m sorry for being so abrupt, but I didn’t want to stay in anything Iaera, Pasithea, and Ligea had concocted,” he said. “They have a bad habit of booby-trapping things.”
“Booby-trapping—” He tried to wrap his head around the new information. “Who are you?” he said, wincing as his voice cracked.
Dunn took a deep breath. “My true name is Poseidon,” he said. “But I suspect you gathered that already, thanks to my meddling sisters-in-law.”
“Sisters-in-law?” Griffin grimaced at the thought of the knockout brunettes. “Wait, where are they? You didn’t … I mean—”
“I didn’t put them in a trench, no,” Dunn—no, Poseidon—said. “Although they richly deserved one. I simply relocated them.”
“Where?”
“The Tasman Sea. It’ll take them some time to get back here, which will be good for them. If they were at leisure enough to kidnap you, then they obviously have far too much free time on their hands.”
“Christ. They did kidnap me, didn’t they? And you—” Are Poseidon. The God of the Sea. He tried to breathe, but his lungs didn’t seem to want to work properly. The world started going dark.
“Lean forward, head between your knees.” A firm hand on his neck pushed him down until he was in the recovery position. “Breathe, beloved. Just breathe.”
Beloved? Blood rushed to Griffin’s head, driving back the dark blooms along the edges of his vision. He gulped in air as best he could, blinking at the muted pattern of the carpet between his bare feet. Crystalline white grains of sand clung to the sparse hairs on his big toes.
The cove had coarse yellow sand, nothing like this fine sugar sand. It was true. He’d been transported to a tropical island by three sea nymphs, and then been rescued by Poseidon himself.
“Shit. It’s real. It’s all real,” he muttered.
“I’m afraid it is,” Poseidon said, the hand on his neck gentling. “Do you feel like sitting up now?”
“Yeah.” He sat up slowly, his face stinging from the blood that had rushed into it. “What the hell is going on? And why are you calling me beloved?”
Frowning, Poseidon sat down hesitantly next to him. “Before I explain that, may I ask what happened on the island?”
“I will be damned if I know.” Griffin tried to think. He’d been in a luxury car, then a boat. Or had he? He could remember the vehicles, but at the same time he also remembered Lisa’s arms around him as they rode along the waves on a bloody great dolphin. “I woke up and went looking for you, but you were gone.” He glared at Poseidon.
The other man—the god—winced. “I’m sorry about that. I’d gone for a walk.”
“Huh. Then there was a knock at the front door. I went to get it. The next thing I know I’m on a tropical island in a silk pavilion being fed grapes and wine by three gorgeous birds in bikinis.” He paused, remembering some of the argument he’d heard. “They’re really your sisters-in-law?”
“Yes,” Poseidon admitted. “Ligea, Pasithea, and Iaera. I’m afraid they were spying on us last night and decided to take matters into their own interfering hands.”
Last night. When they were making out on the beach and he’d—
Griffin flushed. “Shit. They saw us?”
“Their dolphins did, I suspect,” Poseidon said. “I would have noticed their presence in the cove otherwise.”
“You—right.” Griffin sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s go back to the beginning. You’re really Poseidon, God of the Seas.”
“Earthshaker, Maker of Horses, yes.”
“Which makes By and Aph…”
“Bythos and Aphros, my adopted sons. They’re demigods, sea centaurs who are charged with the protection of the waters.” One surprisingly graceful hand rose, fingers flicking. “As you may have gathered, they can also change shape.”
“Change shape. Right.” Griffin tried to take it all in. “And Ian?”
“He was human. Now he’s a storm god. It’s a long story.”
“I bet it is. What about Nick and his blokes? Are they sea gods, too?”
Poseidon smiled faintly. “Oh, no. Aidan and Liam are regular mermen, I assure you. Nicholas is quite human, although he’s also the Bearer of the Rod of Asclepius, which makes him something of a disciple, I would imagine.”
“Disciple.” Griffin rubbed his face, feeling the bristles rasp against his fingers. “And mermen. All right. And you’re all living on the Florida coast because?”
“Ian started it.” Now Poseidon sounded mildly defensive. “After he mated with my sons, they moved in with him. And Nicholas was Ian’s friend back in Chicago, so he wound up staying here after he mated with Aidan and Liam.”
“Right. Of course. And you’re here because?”
The god hesitated. “At first I came to consult with Bythos on a project. I wasn’t lying when I told you we were in the business of marine ecological remediation. We’re working on methods of cleaning pollution from the waters. Afterwards, I found I rather liked coming here to visit. And then you moved in, and I realized why I was supposed to be here.”
“Me.” Griffin stared at the god. He called me beloved. Why would he do that, unless… “What do I have to do with all this?”
“That is part of the long and complicated story I have to tell you. And it’s one that I would prefer not to have interrupted.” Poseidon looked around the living room, frowning. “Would you mind if we went to my palace first?”
“Your … palace. You mean, on Olympus?”
The frown on Poseidon’s face deepened. “No. I can’t—it’s not a good place for mortals,” he muttered. “I meant my undersea palace. I’ll make sure that you won’t drown. In fact, you’ll never have to worry about drowning ever again.”
Griffin suspected if his eyes got any wider they were going to pop out. “You can do that?”
“I’m the God of the Sea,” Poseidon reminded him. “If I couldn’t make sure that mortal men were safe in my demesnes, I’d be a very poor god, wouldn’t I?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess you would. So, um, how do we do that?”
The god’s frown disappeared, replaced by a hesitant smile. “I’ll have to kiss you.”
Memories of their kisses blazed through Griffin’s mind. �
��Oh. Well, in that case, I suppose I can handle it,” he said, trying his damnedest for a dry tone.
Poseidon chuckled softly. “You already did that last night.”
Griffin could feel his cheeks heat up. “Just kiss me already, you big gob.”
Nodding, Poseidon leaned forward and pressed their lips together gently in a chaste kiss. Griffin closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of those firm, full lips on his own.
And gasped when something cold rushed into his mouth, gushing down his throat and causing his lungs to spasm. He tried to jerk backward but hands clamped firmly around his head, holding him in place.
Suddenly the coldness changed, turning warm and bubbling. He sucked in a breath through his nose and felt his lungs inflate reassuringly. Then moaned as Poseidon’s tongue slid silkily into his mouth, luring his own tongue into a winding, sliding dance.
When the god finally let him pull away, he was breathing heavily. “You could have warned me,” he said, rubbing his chest and throat.
Poseidon grinned. “I apologize. Different mortals have different reactions to my kiss. Nicholas seemed to take it much more easily.”
Griffin narrowed his eyes. “You kissed Nick?”
“Only to give him the ability to breathe underwater,” Poseidon assured him. “Admittedly, Gaia then lent his body to one of my former lovers for a brief interlude. It was purely a matter of closure, I assure you, and will never be repeated. I have no intention of ever betraying your trust again.”
Again? Before Griffin could ask, Poseidon stood and held out a broad hand. “Shall we?”
Griffin glanced down at his underwear. “Shouldn’t I get dressed first?”
“Why? It’s just going to get wet. In fact, I’d suggest going and putting on a bathing suit.” The god’s smile turned sensual. “Or go nude. That’s probably the most practical method, come to think of it.”
“Yeah, no,” Griffin muttered. Before he’d gotten sick he would have shucked off his Y-fronts and vest without a second thought. But now he knew he looked like a pale weed next to Poseidon’s leanly muscled frame. “I’ll go put on my trunks. And a t-shirt.”
“Suit yourself.”
****
Three fuming Nereids surfaced off the coast of Tasmania.
“I am going to gut Poseidon for this,” Lisa said, wiping water out of her eyes.
“I am going to turn his guts into macramé,” Jennifer said.
“And then I’m going to set it on fire,” Patricia snarled. “How in Gaia’s name are we supposed to get home?”
“I’ll be damned if I’m swimming all that way,” Jennifer said, tossing her sodden hair back. “I say we call Ammie right now and tell her what her philandering husband is up to—”
The water around them calmed, going still in a perfect circle. “Hello, girls,” a familiar voice said. “What have you gotten yourselves into now?”
“It wasn’t our fault, Hyacinth!” Lisa said, slapping at the glassy surface. “Ammie’s idiot husband is throwing his weight around again.”
“He’s having an affair with a mortal right on Olympic Cove,” Patricia added. “We tried to stop it, but he chucked us halfway across the blasted globe.”
The water around them rippled. “I see. Would this be Griffin Moore, by any chance?”
The three Nereids gave each other identical startled looks. “You know about him?” Lisa said suspiciously.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell us?”
The water sighed. “There’s more to this than you know, girls.” A brief but surprising explanation followed, to the Nereids’ mutual astonishment. “For once in his life, Earthshaker is actually trying to do the right thing. He doesn’t need you joggling his elbow right now. I’ll send someone to pick you up, but you have to promise to stay out of Olympic Cove and Olympic Beach, at least until everything is resolved.”
The sisters glanced at each other. “All right,” Lisa said slowly. “But if he hurts Ammie again with this—”
“He won’t. He knows what’s at stake here. Now, there’s a British Royal Navy ship in your vicinity. Would you like to use the usual sunken sailboat excuse?”
All three Nereids perked up at the thought of a ship full of fit, healthy sailors. “Yes, please,” they chorused.
“Consider it done.” Hyacinth’s indulgent chuckle rolled over them. “Have fun, girls.”
Suddenly the day was looking up.
****
Knowing that he could breathe water safely and actually doing it were two completely different things, Griffin thought as he rode next to Poseidon in the god’s chariot. But the ability to stay underwater without the constant soft hiss from tanks or the bubbles from his regulator was absolutely glorious. Diving had always been one of his favorite activities, and thanks to Poseidon’s kiss he had been unshackled from the need to bring his own air with him. He sucked in a deep lungful of seawater, and breathed it out just as easily.
The god, now out of mortal clothes and wearing a white tunic belted at the waist, glanced at him. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
Griffin learned that he’d also been granted the ability to speak Éthlé, the sea tongue. But it was still strange to hear Poseidon speaking in something that sounded like dolphin song.
“Oh, God yes.” He grinned when he realized what he’d said. “Sorry. It’s habit.”
“I understand. We should be arriving at the palace in a few minutes.”
Griffin looked back at the dark water rushing by. He had no idea where they were, but Poseidon seemed to know where he was going. And the gorgeous white seahorses harnessed to the chariot certainly surged through the water like they were on course. He took a moment to admire the startlingly beautiful creatures, with the front halves of white thoroughbreds merged with huge, powerful fish tails. They—galloped, it could only be called a gallop—easily through the water, pulling Poseidon’s chariot along in their wake.
Ahead of them, a soft green glow grew brighter. As they drew closer Griffin saw the outlines of a grand mansion that would have been quite at home on an English country estate. To his untutored eye the building appeared to be classical in design, mimicking the elegant lines of Greek and Roman temple architecture.
Mimicking? For all I know Poseidon created the bloody style in the first place.
They landed in the colonnade-lined forecourt of the palace, the seahorses touching down lightly on a field of crushed seashell. The chariot followed with a slightly more solid thump. A pair of mermen swam out from the colonnade, coming to a respectful stop on Poseidon’s side of the chariot.
“My lord, it’s good to have you home,” one of them said, both bowing low. “How may we serve you?”
“Send some refreshments to my private chambers,” Poseidon said. “Have there been any issues in my absence?”
The first merman bowed and swam off while the second one approached. “The palace is secure, lord. There have been a few human explorers on our outer boundaries, but none of them broached the cloaking wall.”
“Excellent. This,” he gestured to Griffin, “is my friend Griffin Moore. He’s to be extended every courtesy.”
The merman’s eyebrows went up at that, but he bowed. “As you wish, my lord. Shall I prepare a chamber for Lord Moore?”
Griffin caught Poseidon’s considering glance. “Not just yet.”
“Very well, my lord.” The mer swam off, and two others came up to take charge of the seahorses.
Poseidon floated out of the chariot, waiting until Griffin joined him. “I would be pleased to give you a full tour of the palace later, but for now might I suggest that we retire to my chambers so that we can talk?” he said.
Among other things? “Yeah, good idea.”
Poseidon held out a crooked arm. “As I can move much faster in the water than you can, you may want to hold on. That way you won’t wear yourself out trying to keep up.”
Griffin’s pride prickled a bit at that, but he looped his arm th
rough the god’s offered one. He saw the wisdom in it immediately as Poseidon set off at a pace that would have made Michael Phelps envious. The god didn’t swim through the water so much as he cut through it like a submarine, trident held forward to lead the way. Griffin hung on, goggling at the hallways lined with marble and mother-of-pearl as they shot through them. Softly glowing globes netted in darkened brass were suspended from the ceiling and lit their way. In fact, Griffin realized, he hadn’t really had much of a problem seeing anything while they were out in the ocean, either. Getting kissed by a god definitely has its perks.
Poseidon came to a stop in front of a pair of immense doors. At the touch of his hand they swung open, revealing an appropriately huge sitting room done in pale shades of blue and green. Poseidon guided them to a divan and deposited Griffin on it, putting his trident away in whatever invisible closet he kept it in before sitting down. “The refreshments should be here soon,” he said.
“Okay.” Griffin glanced around the room. It was slightly austere and luxurious at the same time. “I’m still kind of full of grapes and wine, to be honest.”
Poseidon’s face darkened slightly at that. “Nectar. I can’t believe they fed you nectar. That was incredibly foolhardy of them.”
Griffin remembered the taste of the delicious wine. “So that was really the nectar of the gods?”
“Yes, intended to keep you complacent and biddable while they tried to seduce you, judging from what I saw.”
Which explained Lisa’s hand on his cock. Griffin’s mood sank a bit. “Not that it would have worked.”
Poseidon stiffened. “Yes, well,” he muttered. “I suppose they’re quite attractive, if you like that sort of thing.”
Holy God. I think he’s jealous. “I’m not trying to be an arse or anything, but if they’re your sisters-in-law then didn’t you marry ‘that sort of thing’?”
Something flared to life in Poseidon’s eyes, then died just as quickly. “I did. And Amphitrite is the most perfect of women in my opinion. But she would never stoop to such a cheap and dangerous trick.”
“No, I’m sure she wouldn’t.” Griffin felt odd talking about Poseidon’s estranged wife. “I think you were going to explain things to me?”
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