Tyranny: Goddesses of Delphi

by Gemma Brocato

  She was panting by the time they broke apart. She nestled her face in his neck. “Okay, yes, you are good at that.”

  His soft groan teased her ear, his breath stirring her dangly earring. “You aren’t half bad yourself.’ He leaned away from her, pressing his hips to hers, arms snug around her waist. “Clio, I want to date you. I...I want to more than date you. I’ve imagined how sweet you’d taste since the moment I met you, and I wasn’t wrong. Will you have dinner with me? Right now?”

  She stroked her hand along the scratchy stubble on his cheek. “Jax, it’s nearly midnight.”

  “Fine. Then tomorrow. Go out with me tomorrow night.” He nipped her lower lip, then soothed the sting with a slow lap of his tongue.

  They’d known each other for only two weeks. But that’s how long she’d been attracted to him. Plus, he appeared to be the one man Pierus’s prophecy foretold. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

  He released one of his arms and shot his fist into the air as thunder growled again.

  She gave him one final mental poke, designed to get him to ask the what if question. She should feel guilty the bump included a suggestion he think about her all night long. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t lie to herself and say she just wanted his help to save the world. Nope, there was no denying she wanted this captivating man to want her.

  Oh, yes, the race to the end of the challenge was definitely on.

  Chapter 5

  Jax hadn’t been able to get Clio from his thoughts. Interest in the woman had begun to feel like an obsession. He dreamed of her in his arms, in his bed, on the floor in his living room. The weight of her legs over his shoulders felt real. He’d awoken from that particular early morning fantasy uncomfortably aroused. While he beat off in the shower, he’d imagined her lips on his dick. His hand was a poor substitute for the warm, wet cave he knew her mouth would be.

  Even the five-knuckle shuffle hadn’t really taken the edge off his need. Despite rubbing one out in the shower, his damned cock remained hard enough to pound nails while he’d shaved and dressed. He drank his coffee, ate a bagel, and read the newspaper standing at the kitchen sink, not wanting the painful constriction that came with sitting on a hard chair with a hard-on.

  By the time he’d poured a second cup and scanned the headlines, he had better control of his body. Then he spied a news story about the recent maneuvering of the Five Nations along the border of the much smaller Bulgaria in Eastern Europe. It appeared the coalition comprised of Ukraine, Serbia, Romania, Turkey, and Greece was setting the stage to invade the small monarchy. Reading about it speared a different kind of tension through him. This was exactly the kind of tactic he’d expected and had warned the State Department about. There had been ways to circumvent the build-up, but those in charge had told him to take his advice and fuck off.

  Disgusted, he folded the paper and dropped it into the recycle bin by the back door. After pouring himself a to-go mug of his extra strong morning brew, he shut off the coffee pot. He locked the front door behind him. Delphi was a small town, but no sense taking chances.

  He turned right out of the gate of the white picket fence surrounding his yard. Last night’s nasty weather had cleared. Sun dappled through gaps in the leaves of the large trees lining the residential street. The walk to his office was only fifteen minutes. He pulled the strap of his satchel over his head and adjusted it across his chest. It was going to be hot on the walk home, but for now, his short-sleeved shirt was perfect.

  As he jaywalked across the street heading toward campus, a man stepped from behind the large, old oak tree on the corner. The guy waved at Jax. “Good morning, Professor.”

  “Hello.” Jax studied the man’s face, but didn’t find it familiar. He nodded politely and resumed his march toward campus. The man matched his step to Jax’s long stride.

  Jax’s guard edged up. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

  “I haven’t had the privilege, but I know who you are. My name is Peter Russell.”

  Jax continued walking, the unmistakable feeling of being escorted lying uncomfortably along his spine. “Are you employed at DCU?”

  Russell’s curly hair framed a high forehead. He had a bright blue scarf, the color of the Greek flag, wrapped around his neck, even though it was the middle of summer. He wore rope-soled Jesus sandals with his khaki trousers.

  Russell shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. He lifted his right brow and said, “Oh, no. I’m simply visiting. I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now. I’m a fan of your work at GeoPoly.”

  That brought Jax up short. He stopped abruptly and faced the man. No one but Ian knew about his former employer. Even Clio didn’t know the name of the tank. Warning bells clanged like an alarm clock in his mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I work at the university.”

  “Now. But your performance with the super-secret think tank has been noted.”

  Anger built like steam in Jax. “Who the fuck are you?”

  A wild screech accompanied the flapping wings of a bird from overhead. Jax hunched up his shoulders and glanced up to see a large black and white bird land on a thick tree branch above the man’s head. The bird’s repeated call rattled like a machine gun.

  “Oh, no one important. I just wanted to ask one question of you. How does it feel to know you weren’t persuasive enough to save thousands of lives? If only you’d been able to make them listen. It must be a huge burden to know you could have made a difference.” The man leaned his weight on one hip and tipped his head to the opposite side. “Why, the scientist responsible for finding a cure for cancer might have been among the casualties. And his knowledge was lost to the world because you didn’t do your job.”

  Guilt roared through Jax’s system like a freight train. Hulking, furious, lava-hot. Jax clenched his fist around the strap of his bag and spread his feet wide, bracing against the blow of Russell’s words. “Listen, you shitstain—”

  “No, my friend. You must listen.” Russell lifted his hand and waved it in front of Jax’s face. “You have a great task ahead of you. You will fail. Perhaps, you shouldn’t even try.”

  Pressure built at the crown of Jax’s head, as if something—someone—crushed their hands tightly around it. Pain burst behind his eyes, and he squeezed his lids closed. A chuckle rang in his ear, the sound chilling.

  “You will fail.”

  A pop of air blew across his shoulders, and the pain in his head dissipated. The sharp tang of something volcanic, like sulfur, stung Jax’s nostrils. When Jax opened his eyes, Russell had vanished.

  Looking for the man, Jax spun in a quick circle. It was like he’d never been there. If this was a dream, he’d prefer to go back to the one about Clio. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand. “What the fuck?”

  A maniacal cackle sounded overhead. He looked toward the branches and found the bird once again. It tilted its head to the side, studying him. After a couple of rapid blinks of its beady, black eyes, the magpie flared its white striped wings and launched off the limb. Jax ducked as the creature swooped toward him. When it pulled up at the last second and flew away, it lost a feather. The thing drifted down to land on the front of Jax’s shirt. He plucked it up, darting his gaze between the departing magpie and the feather.

  He shook his head, trying to shed the apprehension that had bloomed in his chest the moment Russell had stepped from behind the tree. “Shitty weather last night, crazy old men, and dive-bombing birds. Not the way I wanted to start my job.”

  Twirling the feather between his fingers, and with one last glance up and down the street, Jax hustled away.

  Vines and Grecian statues lined the long avenue leading to the Achilleion waterfall. Clio wasn’t late, but she could guarantee Callie and their mother would be early. She spared a glance at the statues of her sisters as she hurried past, sticking her tongue out at the statue that depicted Calliope. Childish, yes, but immensely satisfying.

  Recent rain had swelled the amount of wat
er churning down the wide marble steps of the man-made spillway. In a pool at the bottom of the falls a statue of Poseidon, looking commanding and powerful, rode on a pair of seahorses. The God of the Seas didn’t actually look anything like the statue. He was small and unassuming and traveled by dolphin. Ever since some renaissance artist had painted her uncle in a chariot behind straining seahorses, the image had stuck.

  The spikes of Clio’s high-heeled sandals sank into the soft earth as she trotted up to the top of the falls. As expected, she found her mother and sister waiting under a covered picnic area meant to look like a Grecian temple. Clio wiped the sweat from her brow then dried her hands by shoving them into the pockets of the soft cotton dress she wore. As Clio stepped onto the marble floor of the structure, her mother studied her, Gaia’s normally smooth forehead wrinkled by a frown.

  “Good afternoon, child.” Gaia’s voice sounded like delicate wind chimes. She tilted her chin up, offering a cheek for Clio’s kiss.

  “Mother,” Clio greeted her. She bent and pressed her lips onto her mother’s satiny skin. Gaia wore a floaty sundress that draped her form the way togas had back in the third century. She also had arranged her curly hair in a similar style, gathered on the crown of her head and curling loosely down her back. A yellow ribbon, the same shade as in her dress, was woven like a snare around the top half of the ponytail.

  Nodding to Callie, Clio backed up until she rested against one of the limestone pillars supporting the faux-painted wooden roof. In the past, she’d found when she’d dealt with these two, she thought better if she remained on her feet.

  Callie wasted no time getting to the point. “What did you dig up in your research yesterday?”

  “I found nothing useful in the texts at the library.”

  “Damn!” Callie didn’t even try to disguise her frustration.

  “Calliope, mind your language.” Gaia had never tolerated the coarse language all nine of them had begun using in the last two centuries.

  Callie mumbled, “Sorry.”

  Clio lifted her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, effectively hiding her smile at their mother’s chastisement of the favored child.

  Callie held Gaia’s eye. “Mother, if we don’t find something to guide us, our cause is lost.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Clio cleared her throat. “I said I didn’t find anything in the books. But I did find something…someone to help us.”

  “Really?” Her mother’s speculative gaze remained steady. A slight smile played on her lips.

  How was it that her mother always seemed to know what was happening in Clio’s life? Like Mother Nature, the woman couldn’t be fooled.

  Callie didn’t show the same restraint. “What do you mean…someone?”

  Clio hesitated. Once she mentioned Jax’s name, he’d be inexorably tied to the challenge. If she didn’t reveal what had happened between them, the hot-as-hell kiss, the sudden thunderstorms, the shadows displayed on the ceiling in the flashes of lightning, she could keep Jax out of it. And safe. The instant she shared what had occurred in the two weeks since she’d met him, he became part of the whole mess.

  Gaia dipped her chin and raised her brows. Her eyes commanded, without saying a word, Clio to spill her guts. The nudge pinched painfully on the tender curve of flesh where Clio’s neck met her shoulder.

  Goddess, she hated when her mother or sisters jabbed her. There weren’t any rules saying they couldn’t hit each other mentally. But personally, she liked to avoid the stinging jolts when she could. Immortal to immortal nudges felt different than when she sent inspiration to a mortal. The mortals felt like an idea had sparked, accompanied by a typical adrenaline rush.

  “Ow! Mother, stop.” Clio flexed her fingers on the spot Gaia had targeted and soothed the sting with a mental rub of her own. “I believe I’ve already met my guide for the challenge.”

  Callie jumped up and demanded, “Who? Where?” She jammed her hands on her hips and tapped her toe impatiently.

  “Two weeks ago, a new history professor, Jax Callahan, joined the DCU faculty. The day we had that awful squall. Remember that?”

  “The day I started receiving cryptic e-mails. Before we knew what—who—we were up against.” Running her hands through her hair, Callie strode from one side of the shelter to the other. Clio called it Callie’s thinking stride. When her sister reached the edge of the cement pad, Clio noticed a couple of black and white feathers that had molted off some bird. The sight of them chilled her.

  Callie turned and lifted one brow. “Well?”

  Clio pushed the sense of foreboding away. She continued, knowing she was committing Jax to goddess only knew what. “He was at the library last night when I went there after dinner with you, Callie. We got to talking, and he mentioned his previous employer. His last job was as advisor to an international think tank. His role was to analyze potential troop buildup and apply past history to the current situations to try to circumvent possible invasions. And all the evil that comes with marauding armies. Kind of like what The Five Nations Block is doing right now.”

  Jerking to a stop behind the bench where Gaia sat, Callie clutched her fingers around the top slat and peered at Clio. “It fits.”

  Gaia patted Callie’s hand and posed a question to Clio. “What has you convinced this Jax is meant to be your guide for this challenge, daughter?”

  “He told me he’d quit his job because he couldn’t make them listen. He got to a point where he no longer believed in the what if scenarios.” Clio took a seat facing Gaia.

  When Callie took up pacing again, Clio tracked her back-and-forth progress. She wished Callie weren’t such a perpetual motion machine. It made her nervous.

  “Daughter, there is something you are not telling us.” Mother squinted as though she was getting ready to poke Clio again.

  Clio held her hand up, palm out. “He kissed me. Well, we kissed. It was mutual. And in the midst of it, there was an especially violent burst of thunder. During a particularly long lightning flash, I saw Pierus’s shadow on the wall, one of his skanky magpie daughters perched on his shoulder.”

  “You kissed him?” Callie screeched.

  Gaia narrowed her eyes in Callie’s direction, who responded by immediately sitting down, rubbing her ear. Good, Clio wasn’t the only one Gaia tweaked with her mind.

  “Well, this is indeed interesting.” Gaia clasped her hands demurely in her lap. “Pierus’s message did say you’d have to lead your guide back to magic to enlist his aid in solving the challenge. But why would he deliberately put the man in your path?”

  “Did Pierus do it? Is it possible meeting Jax was preordained?”

  “You mean like destiny?” Callie scoffed. Sheesh, her sister was awfully jaded for a romance writer.

  With a flick of her hands, Clio shooed away Callie’s comment. “Maybe Jax believes there is no way we can succeed. Or…Gaia, is there any way his hands are tied by the terms of the challenge?”

  Even on Olympus, there were laws governing the way business was conducted. Any activity, business, or challenge was subject to scrutiny and potential sanctions. Including banishment from the pantheon. Or worse. And once a challenge had been issued to a specific deity, all others were limited in the assistance they could provide. To break the rules would be similar to cheating, and not tolerated.

  Pierus had violated those rules in his first challenge to the Muses; his cheating had led to Zeus transforming the god’s daughters into magpies. It had also set up a vendetta for the ages. Like a bad penny, Pierus kept popping up. Each time, the challenges became more aggressive. This time, Clio believed it more personal toward Zeus. Like the Muses were just a means to an end.

  Although the initial e-mail didn’t mention it, Clio had to wonder if Pierus had an ulterior motive. Maybe he had a bigger target in his sights than just the Muses.

  Insides quaking, she voiced the frightening possibility. “What if he also wants Zeus’s crown? With the havoc his offs
pring could unleash, he could easily pull off a coup—a hostile take over.”

  Frowning, Gaia mulled over the question. “That’s an interesting thought, daughter. I must discuss this with your father.”

  “Mother,” Callie spoke. “How should we proceed with this Jax?”

  “Not we, Callie. This is Clio’s challenge. It is she who must bring Jax back to the magic.” Gaia reached over and patted Clio’s knee. “We can help in minor ways, daughter, but you alone must proceed as you deem fit. What do you think should be your next step?”

  “I’m having dinner with him tonight. Maybe something will come up in conversation.” Uncertainty claimed a corner of her brain. “Should I tell him about me being a Muse? About the challenge we all face?”

  Gaia rose gracefully from the bench. She stroked her hand along Clio’s cheek, her fingertips gliding smoothly over Clio’s skin. “That is up to you, daughter. On this question, all I can say is trust your instincts.”

  Chapter 6

  After the meeting with her mother, which had gone better than she’d anticipated, Clio tried to focus on her work for the balance of the afternoon. Tried, but failed.

  She’d shelved an entire rack of books about Renaissance painters in the legal section before one of the student assistants pointed out her error. Together they pulled all the texts and relocated them to their correct home.

  With only an hour left in her shift, Clio ducked into the Ancient Civ room to tidy it. Two walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookcases. On the third wall, a half bookcase rested below a bank of windows. A counter ran the length of the fourth wall, with locking cabinets below. The glass display cases above were filled with relics of years gone by. Tools, vases, and tablets depicted a life she remembered from long ago.