“Clio, rumors about Anastasia are a dime a dozen.” He shook his head and crossed one arm over his chest. His knuckles popped as he dug his fingers into his neck.
Clio rose. The only way to convince him would require her to betray a promise made so many years ago. She stood indecisively for a moment. In light of the circumstances, Clio was certain the gracious woman Anastasia had grown into would have forgiven her. She moved to her desk in the corner. The top drawer scraped a little as she pulled it open. With unerring accuracy, she depressed a slight protrusion along the left side. The back of the drawer popped open with a click. From deep within the hidden compartment, she drew out a crimson velvet pouch. It lay heavy in her hand as she returned to Jax’s side.
She grasped Jax’s hand and lifted it, facing up. “But this isn’t a rumor.” Upending the ancient monogrammed bag over his outstretched palm, the weighty contents dropped with a quiet thud. The ornate brooch had a massive sapphire center. Sparkling crystals and diamonds surrounded the central stone. Another teardrop sapphire, the size of a robin’s egg, swung freely at the bottom of the ornamental pin.
She pointed to the glittering piece. “This was Tsarina Alexandra’s brooch. She wore it in all of her official portraits, including the one completed just days before her murder. It was one of the jewels never recovered from Alexandra’s personal effects. Because she’d given this piece and several others to Sophia to help finance the escape of her children.”
“I’ve seen pictures of this piece.” Jax stared at the magnificent jewel in his hand. When he lifted his gaze to her, his eyes were clouded with doubt. “But all the children died.”
Clio shook her head gently and folded Jax’s fingers over the top of the brooch. “Not all. I was with Anastasia when she actually died in 1974. She is buried next to Sophia on Marquesas Island in a cemetery overlooking the sea.” She switched to the ancient language she’d heard him using as he sang in the library. “The name on her tombstone is Alix Hesse, her own mother’s birth name.”
She took a step away to give him space to process the words she’d spoken in a forgotten tongue and the proof she’d offered. She laid the velvet pouch on the table. Leaving her gaze on Jax, waiting for a response, she sat down.
Jax twirled the teardrop sapphire between his thumb and forefinger, his brows drawn up as he studied the piece. If his expression was a clue, it appeared he’d come to a conclusion about the truth of her story. He’d believe her, or he wouldn’t. If she were meant to become a magpie, she’d know in the next few minutes.
Chapter 9
The brooch was solid in his hand. Either she was crazy, or he was. The cut, color, and setting had been accurately portrayed in official portraits. He’d never believed he’d be lucky enough to hold a piece of history like this in his hands. Jax remained standing, still as a statue. The unbelievable truth of what Clio had told him sat heavily on his shoulders. He scrabbled about in his brain for an alternate explanation.
Finally, he scrubbed his hand over his face. His thoughts spun as if he’d fallen into the rabbit hole.
He muttered, “I know this jewel. I know the names.” He turned the brooch in his hand and peered at the jeweler’s mark below the clasp. The line of Cyrillic symbols that represented Faberge’s official mark had been stamped into the back of the brooch. The AH mark, representing the chief imperial jeweler August Holmstrom, had been imprinted just below the Faberge string. The piece weighed heavier in his hand due to its authenticity.
He lifted his gaze. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “And a gaping hole in a remarkable story has just been plugged.” He reared back and searched the room for hidden cameras or men with white jackets and maybe a Taser meant to calm the lunatic. God, was he really going to say it? “Okay, I’m a believer.”
Relief crashed over her face. “Thank you.”
He laid the jewel on top of the scrap of velvet. Unable to resist, he ran a fingertip over the imperial seal embroidered on the bag. Wonder and giddy excitement filled his heart as he took his seat next to her on the sofa. There were so many gaps in history she could fill.
A thousand questions rattled around his brain. “So, was Beowulf real?”
“Nope. He was only a legend with no basis in reality. Someone got a little tipsy on the mead and spun a great tale.”
“Did Nero really fiddle while Rome burned?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you know how the pyramids were really built?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Jax, I’m happy to answer any of your questions, but we have a big problem.”
And damn, that sexy squint fired his blood and made his dick jump to attention. Battling to get his body under control, he grasped her hand and asked his next question. “And…and what about Stonehenge? Were you there for the first equinox?”
“I just— Didn’t you feel—?” A fast frown crinkled her features. “That is so weird. I just suggested to you that you stop asking questions so we could focus on the task at hand. But you kept asking questions. Didn’t you feel the urging?”
“You can do that? Influence me that way?”
“Jax, I’m a Muse. My specialty is influencing people. How could you not respond to it?” She curled her lips in, capturing them between her teeth.
She could control his actions? His brain reeled in pace with his libido. “I felt an urge, but the task I had in mind seems vastly different than what you suggested.”
“What did you feel?”
His cock hardened again. “Um, aroused. Ready to drag you back to the bedroom.” Knowing hers would follow, he dropped his gaze to the bulge in his lap. When he looked up, her lips were parted and pink had flooded her cheeks.
She rubbed her temples “This has never happened before.”
“How was I supposed to react?”
“It depends on what problem we’re addressing. Most people embrace the prompt I send. Over the years, everyone else has reacted positively. For example, I nudged William Wallace to use the terrain to his advantage in the Battle of Stirling Bridge. He followed my idea, and the Scots soundly defeated King Edward’s army.”
“So, I’m just supposed to ignore my instincts and listen to the urgings I hear in my head? Your urgings?”
“Exactly.” She captured her bottom lip between her teeth. His mouth went dry as the need to suck that same lip claimed him. She released her bite and held his gaze. “Let me try another suggestion. This time while I touch you.”
Her palm was warm when she laced their fingers together. Narrowing her eyes, she stared straight at him.
A tingling started in his balls, then a surge of pressure speared his dick, turning it to steel. He nearly shot his wad off in his pants. “Oh, Jesus!” He jerked his hand from hers. Breaking the point of contact should have eased the insane need to push her to the cushions and pound into her in a fast, hard coupling. Should have.
“Jax?”
He leaped off the couch and moved gingerly to the fireplace, his back to her. “I need a minute.” His entire body shuddered as he fought the desire swamping him. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the limestone mantel.
Behind him, he heard her stand. Something clattered on the table. Her steps were quiet on the rug, but slapped against the stone hearth when she joined him in front of the fireplace. She set his tumbler down, refraining from touching him, as if she understood the urges he battled. He swiped up the glass and drained it in one long swallow. Fire of a different kind filled his blood. She set her own drink down in front of him, then moved away three steps.
He gulped the contents of the second glass. “God, Clio. What the hell? It was ten times stronger when you touched me. Do your nudges affect every man like this?” Jealousy chewed the base of his neck. He hated the idea that other men might have similar reactions. He didn’t want to think of any other man touching her.
“Jax, I’ve been pushing mortals for centuries, and I promise you, this has never happened before.”
He heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank God.”
Finally getting control of his body, he twisted around to face her.
Her brows were threaded together, her red-gold hair framing her face in a curly jumble. “Um, maybe it’s better if I don’t try to mentally suggest anything to you.”
He barked out a laugh. “Good idea. At least for the time being. But feel free to nudge away after we talk about whatever you think we need to discuss.” Because, Jesus God. Burying himself in her after one of her suggestions was guaranteed to blow his mind.
She moved away from him and sat in the wing chair opposite the couch. She gestured to the sofa, inviting him to take a seat. “I know you’re familiar with The Five Nations Block.”
Instant soft-on. The last thing he wanted to talk about was the conglomerate of countries intent on claiming someone else’s corner of the world as theirs. He deflected her statement with a question. “Clio, what do they have to do with the problem you think we have?”
Her gaze never left his face. “Everything. The Block is up to something. They’ve been moving troops and repositioning artillery along their borders.” He wished she’d tell him something he didn’t know. She rubbed her arms. “It’s up to us to stop them from encroaching on a smaller country.”
“I’ve already tried. The Five Nations was my specialty at the think tank. The powers-that-be in our government want a peaceful solution to their aggression.” God knew, he’d worked for years to get the bureaucratic idiots to hear his ideas. He could have circumvented the problem long ago if he’d been able to make the right people listen. The government’s idea of a diplomatic solution only served to edge the world closer to a massive war. “I couldn’t convince anyone to consider the logical alternative, a negotiated settlement where the Bulgarian people are protected. There is no stopping the Five Nations.” The statement alone made his gut churn.
“There has to be.” Clio rose from her seat, moved to her desk, and retrieved a scrap of paper. With graceful movements, she returned to his side. She handed him the document. “You need to read this. It will change your mind.”
Battling the skepticism that had been his hallmark since he’d left GeoPoly, he took the sheet from her hand. It was an e-mail. The chilling message mentioned destruction, war, and an end to mankind. “Who is this Pierus?”
“He’s a demi-god who thought his nine daughters were better than the daughters of Zeus, my sisters and me.” The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. “Zeus is never nice when he’s pissed off. He turned Pierus’s daughters into magpies. Pierus has been seeking to restore them ever since.”
“Whoa! Zeus is your dad? Like, Zeus Zeus? God of Gods, Zeus?” Okay, his world shifted from I can handle her as a Muse to what the fuck have I gotten myself into? He shook his head in denial but then recalled the sight of the bird this morning, and more recently outside Clio’s bedroom window.
“The same. Anyway, Pierus resurfaced recently and challenged us to a contest to return his brats to human form. It’s his version of a hostile takeover of Olympus. He wins, and he gets dominion over all immortals. And his daughters would be unleashed on humanity.” Clio shuddered. “The effect on mortals will be dire. They’ll live up to their names, like Tyranny, Strife, Mayhem. You get the idea.”
“Can he do it?” Aw, shit. That sounded like he was a believer. And maybe, just maybe…
Clio frowned. “He can if we fail at the challenge he’s set for us.”
“Have any of you failed?”
She shrugged. “I’m the first.”
“His message says one Muse, one man. How do you know I’m the man?”
“The magpies keep appearing. You mentioned a run in with a crazy old man and a bird. I believe that was Pierus. The other night in the library when it was storming so badly, I spied the image of Pierus and his skanky daughter in a flash of lightning.” She shook her head again. “Tonight when we walked past the street musician, that was Pierus in disguise.”
The dotted line from his run-in with the bird to Clio’s story just filled in like a solid fucking black dart.
“I put money in that guy’s case. Does that mean something?” What if he’d set something into motion by unwittingly supporting this Pierus dude’s cause? His gut cramped.
Her smile was gentle. “It only means you are a decent, generous human being.”
Being a good human didn’t help win epic battles. Being compassionate didn’t equal persuasive. “Clio, I can’t make anyone listen to me. I don’t have that kind of influence in Washington.”
“Jax, I think the daughter I must defeat is Tyranny. If The Five Nations invade the smaller country they surround and unify into one solid block, like the old Soviet Union, there will be no stopping their conquering ways.”
“But if my suggestions are interpreted the wrong way, it won’t matter.” The horror of the blood diamond fiasco washed over him like an unrelenting riptide.
Her gaze was steadfast. “We won’t know if we don’t try. Jax, if I lose, life for all mortals will irrevocably change for the worse. As gods, we’ve loved and protected humankind for thousands of years. Our ability to save them will disappear.” There was no plea in her voice. Just matter-of-fact sincerity.
“Clio, when I met Peter Russell—that’s the name the crazy old bastard gave me—he knew about my involvement in a situation with blood diamonds. I’d advised our government to remain neutral in the domestic struggle in Sierra Leone, to try a humanitarian strategy.” He toyed with the bottom of his shirttail, rolling it up and unrolling it again. “My recommendation resulted in an unforgivable loss of life. People were slaughtered in the conflict.”
“That won’t happen this time.” Her tone held a note of uncertainty.
“But what if it does?” It seemed the only answer to his what if was doubt.
“If it does, then my existence will cease. It will only take me, or one of my sisters, to lose the contest for Pierus to take over. My loss would result in an entire country and its citizens becoming slaves. Who knows what will happen with the other Muses’ challenges? Eventually, Pierus’s domination will expand to all mortals. People shouldn’t have to suffer because we didn’t try.”
His heart felt as though it was caught in a vise, the pressure crushing. He didn’t want her to vanish from his life. But he didn’t know if he could conquer his doubts long enough to make a difference. Yet you believe this woman across from you is a mythological being.
The bruising grip on his heart reminded him. “When I was talking to Peter, or Pierus, I think he nudged me the way you do. Except instead of pleasure, the result was agonizing. Like he was squeezing my brain between his hands.”
“His influence would be different than mine, but it shouldn’t hurt.” She steepled her fingers and pressed them to her lips. “When a nudge runs up against resistance, I guess it could be painful. But I’ve never heard of it happening. Of course, I’ve never seen a prod affect a man bodily the way mine did with you.”
Jax stood and started buttoning his shirt. The rabbit hole he’d fallen into spun like a top. He’d met a demi-god intent on conquering and enslaving the world. He’d slept with a woman who was a Muse. And the sex had been inspiring. But the top of his head was going to blow off if he didn’t put some distance between this challenge and his normal life.
“I can’t give you an answer now, Clio. This is so much to take in. I need time to process it. To come up with a strategy.”
She scrunched her eyes again. “We don’t have much time, Jax.”
Something shifted in his chest instead of his pants. But that sweet tingling sensation was present again. “You just tried to poke me again.” The accusation hung in the air between them.
A becoming shade of pink flooded her cheeks. “I need you to help me, Jax. Without me and my sisters, the world will become a bleak, awful place. No creativity, no art or music or dance. Who would record history and render it accurately in my stead?” She shook her head. “Plus, I do not want
to be a magpie for eternity. That’s a long, long time.”
He moved toward her until he stood directly in front of the chair she hadn’t left. Bracing his hands on the arms of the wingback, he bent to kiss her. His lips cut off any further comment she might have made. He stroked his tongue around her lips and then slipped it inside her mouth. The palm of her hand was warm and comfortable when she cupped his jaw. She returned the kiss with a fervor that matched his.
He broke the seal between them, then dipped back in and pressed his mouth to the corner of hers. He rested his forehead against hers. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. But I need time to figure this out. Can you give me a couple of days?”
She released a sigh, her breath caressing his cheek. “I’d give you a lifetime if we had it. Please don’t think too long, Jax. The world needs you.” She stroked her fingertips over his cheek and held his gaze. “I need you.”
Chapter 10
In his lonely bedroom, Jax awoke and kicked himself for leaving Clio’s house. He’d declined her invitation to stay over, fabricating an early meeting as an excuse. A shadow had flickered in her eyes when he’d said he had to leave. It had almost made him change his mind. He didn’t have any such engagement, but he’d needed time to process everything she’d revealed to him. When he’d wavered, she’d smiled sadly and pushed him out the door.
Her claim to be a Muse would be intriguing to anyone. A thousands-of-years-old being who’d influenced the world in the most unique way. As a historian, the idea was as mind blowing as the sex had been. His job was to interpret the writings of people who’d made history, to enlighten his students about what had happened. If Clio was to be believed, she’d been present as history was being made. And she’d recorded history for years, generations to come.
Tyranny: Goddesses of Delphi Page 9
