Except…there was something there, like the shadow of a memory but more…sticky. And nothing made sense as I debated my options under the mid-summer sun.
“Amy?”
I spun around, almost dropping my phone on the stamped concrete as Gabriel walked up the steps towards me, grocery bags balanced in his arms.
“I thought you said you’d be home.”
“I am.”
He brushed past me to unlock the door, and I paused, shifting restlessly as he dropped keys and wallet on a nearby side table. “Come on in; can I interest you in a glass of wine?”
“At three in the afternoon? That’s a little early, don’t you think?” I stepped into the tiled entryway, admiring an oil on canvas painting of a centaur picnic – bushels of grapes scattered across a patchwork quilt as they held dusty bottles aloft, dancing.
“It’s good for your heart,” he said, handing me a stemless goblet as he sipped from his own, standing so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, mingling with a heady scent somewhere between clove and cinnamon.
“This looks expensive,” I said, gesturing to the painting, and he shrugged, interlacing his fingers through mine as he tugged me towards a low ottoman.
“It’s an original – one of many in this house.”
House…not ‘home’…
“What do you do for a living that you have that kind of money laying around?”
“I didn’t peg you for a gold-digger,” he said, crossing one leg over the other, and I balked, setting my glass down on the coffee table.
“I’m not – it was just a question…”
He pressed a finger against my lips, smiling. “It was a joke, sweetheart. Truth is, I live off a…inheritance of sorts.”
“Family money?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Alright, well, what does your family do?”
“Our family.”
“Excuse me?”
He sighed, laying an arm around my shoulders as I fidgeted and tried to scoot further away. “Oh, right…you think we’re married…silly me.”
“That was surprisingly sarcastic, love, and I dare say unwarranted. But I understand. It’s going to take you awhile to accept the truth of your situation, luckily, I’m a very patient man.”
“It’s not every day someone tells you that you’re their long-lost wife, who conveniently developed amnesia after being cursed by a mythological god. It might take me more than ‘awhile’ just to fight this urge I have to turn you over to the police for more questioning.”
“Stay for dinner,” he said, tapping a fingertip against the back of my neck.
“Were you listening to anything I just said?”
“Yes, I was, but the only way I’m going to be able to answer the multitude of questions swirling around your brain is if you start chopping cilantro and basil. We’re making lemon chicken over rice – your favorite, if I recall.” He grabbed my glass and led me around the corner to a lodge-style kitchen, countertops the same stamped concrete as the porch and massive, four burner stove gleaming perfectly polished stainless steel. “It’s a good thing the store was on the way back from my errands today; I hadn’t expected that you would join me so soon.”
“Do I want to know how you knew any of that?”
“Probably not. Gentle, Amy; you’re murdering the cilantro.” He moved behind me, laying a hand over mine on the knife, directing my movements into a smooth up and down. His touch made me blush, from the backs of my knees up into my face, and my grip loosened as he moved closer to me, nose skimming my earlobe. “You’re going to cut yourself that way.” I spun away from him, leaning against the far counter.
“You don’t play fair.”
“I never did, and probably won’t start now, especially with you.”
“Was that your whole plan, then? Get me here, and then seduce me? Because it won’t work.”
“And why is that?”
“I have a boyfriend.”
I watched a muscle tick in his jaw. “What a lucky guy,” he said, pulling a mixing bowl down from the cupboard.
“You’re being flip, and I don’t like it.”
“On the contrary, my dear,” he said, blending flour and spices together, “I’m quite serious. I find it fascinating that someone like you would let your guard down for anyone, let alone a romantic interest. You’ll have to tell me someday how he managed it.”
“Jealousy doesn’t become you,” I said, as he scooped the fresh herbs into the batter. “And it makes me uncomfortable.”
“Pass me the lemon, please.” I smacked the fruit into his palm, pouring myself another glass of wine. “Despite what you might think, Amy, I have no desire to separate you from your boyfriend. You’re with someone else because of me – because of mistakes I’ve made in the past – but I’m not going to deny you the chance to be happy now. That’s being selfless, not jealous.”
“Thanks,” I said, and he nodded, squeezing some lemon over the mixture.
“However, he has what’s rightfully mine, and I don’t give up my treasures easily. I want to meet him.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I simply want him to know what it means to be with my wife.”
I groaned aloud, placing my glass on the counter. “It was a mistake to come here.”
“You don’t really believe that.”
“What do you want from me?” I said, patience finally at an end. “I barely know you, and I know you think we have this epic history together, but I don’t remember it, I think it’s crazy, and -”
“You’re not even willing to consider the possibility that I’m right? Give me a little credit, Amy. I might be a lot of things, but a liar is not one of them.” He pulled the chicken from the fridge, slapping it to the cutting board, eyebrows raised, and I hesitated, partly because I didn’t know how to answer, but also because I really wanted to throw myself into his arms, feel them wrap around me, holding me tight…snap out of it! You’re not acting like yourself! “I have something to show you,” he said as he tented some foil around the herbed meat, sliding it into the oven. “And, if you’re still not convinced, I’ll never bother you again.”
“Why would you make such a risky promise?”
He smiled, holding out his hand for mine. “Because not even a curse can erase the skills you were born with.” He led me down an adjacent hallway, and through a set of double doors. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised I haven’t thought of this sooner.” We stood in a solarium, buttery evening light filtering through a dozen stained glass windows, which threw rainbow colors across the mocha colored walls, and he held a spider plant out to me, light green leaves set against a backdrop of darker green foliage. “Bring this back.”
“I don’t understand; it’s not dead.”
He reached out and pinched a single leaf between his index finger and thumb, as the entire plant melted to black dust except for a couple of bare, brittle twigs, and I leaped backwards, hand flying to mouth in shock. “How did you do that?”
“Bring it back, and I’ll tell you.”
“But, I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do. Just try, please. You’re more powerful than you think.”
“I’m not going to tell you that I told you so when this doesn’t work.” I took the plant from him, cradling the base between my palms.
“And when it does work, you’re going to listen. Listen, and eat with me. Now, concentrate.”
I glared back at him for a second before closing my eyes, picturing it the way it used to be before Gabriel inexplicably killed it off, adding in a little more height, just for good measure. After a minute, I peeked, sighing when nothing happened. He stood a few feet from me, arms crossed over his chest, watching me the way a hawk watches prey, and I scowled, feeling the roots poking out the bottom of the pot, and the faint hint of moisture wetting my palms as I shifted it.
“This is ridiculous, Gabriel, and you know it, too. What is
this supposed to prove?”
“As goddess of spring, you have what you would call an extremely reliable green thumb. You can make anything grow, even from death which, not surprisingly, you had to help me with on several occasions when I accidentally killed your…projects. You may not believe that you have this gift, but the power is still within you. Now, use it.”
Well, hell.
I felt a crease form between my eyebrows as I pushed my hands against the clay pot, thought grow, and tried not to think about the specifics, or how crazy he was, or even my own confusion over the whole situation just…felt it…with every fiber of my being, and noticed a little slip, like a door opening a crack, and I shoved against it, willing it to stay right where it was as I heard Gabriel laugh.
“I’ll pour you another glass of wine.” Still laughing, he left as I gazed back at a suddenly alive, hunter-green plant, leaves swaying gently in a non-existent breeze.
“I didn’t do this…I didn’t do this…” I placed it back on the shelf, hands trembling. What did this mean for me now? Who was I, and more importantly, what else can I do? I closed my fist, thought about red roses, like the bushes outside of my apartment, and flinched when a thorn pricked my skin. Over and over, rosebuds – in every shade of red and orange and yellow – littered the floor of the solarium, and I felt the hysterical giggle bubbling up in my throat before I released it to the still evening air around me.
“Roses were always your favorite flower, though if I had known you had a change of heart about me, I would’ve picked up some chocolate with the wine.”
I turned towards him, clutching a deep scarlet blossom to my chest. “I want you to explain everything, starting from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out, and don’t you dare lie to me.”
He inclined his head, passing me a heavy crystal goblet. “What do you want to know?” He sat at the head of the dining table as I took the seat opposite, laying the flower on the hand-scooped wood.
“Who are you?”
“I thought that was obvious when I told you who you were.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
His lips twitched as he took a sip of wine. “Hades.”
“Hades. Lord of the Underworld, ruler of the dead. That Hades?”
“I realize mortals don’t believe in ancient Greek gods anymore, but we never actually went anywhere,” he said, flames erupting from his palm. “Pushed aside and replaced by weaker Christian deities, yes, but we’ve always been there…watching…mildly judging the actions on Earth.”
I watched, eyes wide as he passed a fireball from one hand to the other. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
He shrugged, leaning forward to chuck the ball my direction. I screeched and blocked my face, huffing out a startled breath when I realized it was dangling from my fingertips, like a spider on a web.
“No more than it does to you, it seems. Do you believe me now?”
“I’m holding a fire ball,” I whispered, blowing on it gently as it danced its way up and down my arm, flicking my flesh lovingly. “I’m holding fire.” I pat it out, glancing up into Gabriel’s amused eyes.
“Yes, if I recall, you used to steal my fire to use against me when we fought, which was often. You’re a very stubborn woman.”
“Married to the lord of the dead, but cursed to forget about it – is that the gist?”
“Essentially, yes, though hopefully not for long, if I can help it.”
“Shouldn’t I have a say in who I marry?”
“Of course, though I should tell you that what’s done can’t be easily undone.”
“Does it count if I don’t remember marrying you? Because, to be honest Gabriel…Hades…whoever you are; I think that you’re a good guy, but I barely know you, so forgive me if I’m not ready to jump into bed with you until I know you better.”
Interest lit his eyes, and I pressed my lips together into a thin line, realizing – too late – what I just said. “I didn’t mean it like that – I don’t want to give you false hope…” I heard his glass rattle on the tabletop as he walked towards me, taking my hands in his.
“Sweetheart, I’ve waited for you for two years, and I’ll wait another two if that’s what you really want, but I’m not going anywhere. The sooner you get used to that, the better.”
“But I’m with Max,” I said, as he rose to his feet again.
“I still want to meet him.”
“Gabriel, I don’t know about -”
“Do you love him?”
“I think so.”
His face fell a little, and I gulped down the guilt I could feel rising to the surface. I had no reason to react that way in the first place. “Then he’ll be a part of my life, too.”
I smacked a hand to his chest, and he winced, pushing it firmly against the smooth cotton of his t-shirt. “Why would you do that?”
“There are only a few people in this world, and my own, who are worthy of loving you. I want to make sure that Max is one of them.”
“You mean you want to keep us in check. I don’t remember asking you to do that, and you know I need space to think this all through.”
“So, you just want me to forget about the fact that my wife is in the arms of another man, without knowing who he is, or what he’s like?”
“I’m not your wife…not by modern standards, anyways, and I expect you to trust me.”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re not acting like it, and it’s making me mad.”
“You’re wrong about one thing; you are my wife, no matter what your name is or where you currently live.”
I threw my hands up, exasperated, as he moved towards the kitchen. “Why did I think you’d be reasonable?”
“I don’t know, but dinner is ready.”
I glowered at his back as he disappeared, returning with two steaming plates, one of which he set in front of me before taking his own seat. “Shouldn’t you have servants or something in a place like this?”
He smiled, shaking his napkin into his lap. “I told most of them to stay behind to oversee our home, and the precious few I did bring with me, I’ve ordered out of sight. I’ll be your servant whenever you’re here, which I hope is often.”
“Don’t count on it. You…overwhelm me.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. And here I thought you enjoyed being pampered by someone who brings you coffee in bed after a nightmare and makes you blueberry pancakes with extra butter and blackberry syrup. Am I wrong?”
I glared back as he watched me pensively, like we were discussing the weather. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re still watching me, but I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“I don’t have to spy on you to know what I used to do for you after a night of troubled sleep. The fact that your mortal lover does it, now, too, earns him a little bit of respect.”
“Enough to leave him alone?”
“No.” He glanced down at my plate pointedly, and I sighed, taking a bite of the chicken.
“If I agree to let you meet him, will you stop trying to poke holes in our relationship?”
“Absolutely.” I could feel his eyes on me as we ate, soft jazz music playing in the background. “He must be pretty special for you to defend him.”
“He’s the love of my life, and my soul mate. Is that what you wanted me to say?” I stabbed a carrot as my cellphone buzzed, and I glanced at the caller ID, feeling a hot flush creep across my face. “Speak of the devil. May I?” He inclined his head in acknowledgment as I walked away from the table to give us a little more privacy. “Hi, Max.”
“Amy, where are you?”
“I’m at a friend’s house, but I promise I’ll be home before six. Didn’t you see my note?”
Gabriel stood, gathering our plates and glasses.
“‘Dinner is in the fridge, and Maddy needs to be walked. I’ll be home as soon as I can.’ Yeah, I saw it, and thanks for the food, but next time, text me before you leave, okay? So that I’m not
surprised by it.”
“I will.”
Gabriel cleared his throat, holding up a pad of paper with the words I want to meet him tonight scribbled across it, and I shook my head as he nodded, eyes like pieces of flint in the dim light of the dining room. I sucked in a breath that rattled my lungs, and watched him sit back down, hands folded in front of him…waiting… “Max, is it okay if I bring my friend back to our place for a bit?”
“Why? Aren’t you hanging out with them now?”
“They wanted to meet you. Just say ‘yes’, because I really need to pee.”
Stupid coffee on top of wine, and then more wine.
I heard laughter from both Max and Gabriel, and I clutched the phone before I did something irrational, like chuck it at the latter’s head.
“That’s fine with me, as long as it’s not too late. Love you.”
“Love you, too. See you soon.” I disconnected and danced in place as Gabriel pointed to the hallway.
“Second door on the right.”
“You actually want to do this?”
“Yes, I do. Now, go; I’ll be ready whenever you are.”
I took my time in the bathroom, checking my reflection again and again, and eying the assortment of fancy soaps and lotions on the black marble counter, stalling for time. Max wasn’t going to be happy that my ‘friend’ was a guy who dressed in black, and oozed power like he owned the world, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter; Gabriel wouldn’t leave us alone if I didn’t introduce them. I wasn’t looking forward to the fight we’d have after he left again, and a shudder of unease ran up and down my spine.
Chapter Five
“He might freak out,” I said as we stood in front of my apartment, hand poised over the doorknob.
“This is for the best, Amy. I’m not going anywhere, and he needs to understand why.”
“Fair warning, Maddy hates anyone except me, including Max, so don’t push your luck with her, and I’m going straight to the fridge for a beer.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, smiling, as I leaned back, fighting the urge to slap his hand away. “I can handle myself, love.”
After Midnight Page 6
