Pan wasn’t Zeus, but he wasn’t exactly a saint either. He’d had sexual encounters with women since the curse—thanks to Apollo’s addition to it, it had been impossible not to—but after the deed was done, Pan had never desired to remain in those women’s company. Katerina wasn’t going to be a notch in the metaphorical bedpost, and Pan had come to the conclusion that he had absolutely no idea how to handle a modern woman without the intent of sleeping with them and then bailing.
Katerina seemed calmer since Pan showed her the memories. It was like she’d accepted him as a human without letting the god or satyr factors define him. He’d expected her to despise him, to not be able to handle the truth of his existence. But no. Instead, she had spoken to him like an old friend, with gentleness and an understanding Pan couldn’t quite comprehend. While she explored the inside of his embarrassment of a home, there he was, circling the yard like an agitated animal.
The diminishing sunlight left the sky above awash in coral and pink. Pan blinked in surprise to have come to a stop in front of the fountain, having not been fully aware he’d ceased his pacing. While the sculpture of Syrinx was an accurate likeness, it wasn’t exact. Regret washed over him in waves, swirling within was everything caught in the current: the sorrow for the lives lost and the men cursed into sharing his punishment.
Hatred seethed inside him for Silenus. Pan would have slaughtered that wretched cur if Ariston, Iakovos, and Xanto hadn’t held him back and talked sense into him. He’d been ready to kill the three of them as well for denying him vengeance, but he came to his senses before he acted on the impulse. Killing his friends would have made him no better than Dionysus.
Dionysus.
What was the god up to? Why had he practically gift wrapped Katerina and dropped her on his doorstep? Pan was missing something about this whole ordeal, and it would be wise to figure it out before Dionysus acted. He turned and sat on the ground with his back against the fountain. He rested his forehead against his knees.
Was Dionysus merely wishing to settle an old score by repeating history, or did he have a bigger play in motion? Was it possible he sought the syrinx? If so, the god would be sorely disappointed when he discovered Pan didn’t have it in his possession. He’d entrusted its care into the Arcadians when he realized it should be kept out of the hands of those who would abuse its abilities. With no way to destroy it, he couldn’t chance trying to bury it somewhere, and he worried one day he would be too tempted by it to keep it. So the Arcadians had devised a plan.
Swearing their allegiance to Pan, the Arcadians had decided to seek out one of their own every hundred years or so to ensure the syrinx passed to a new satyr for protection, or at least they hoped to. Pan had no idea who would have it presently or if it had been passed on. Only two satyrs would know: the satyr who possessed it, and the one who had handed it off.
I haven’t thought about its location in far too long. Where is it? The Fates must have been deep in their cups the day the thread of his life was fashioned. He was not cut out for godhood. He wanted peace to enjoy his life without the constant drama. Nonetheless, if Dionysus was making a play for the syrinx, Pan needed to locate it before he did.
“What are you thinking about so solemnly out here?”
Pan turned and waited as Katerina approached him. Her hands were in her pockets, which subtly made him notice the dirt smudges on her sweater. Darting his gaze upward, he observed that her hair was wilder than he’d seen it before, but then, he hadn’t exactly brought her there with beauty supplies or clean clothing. Yeah, he needed to take her back to civilization. While he didn’t mind dirt and tangles, he wanted her to have every luxury. She shouldn’t be forced to rough it with him.
“The past, the future”—he let his gaze sweep over her curves—”the present.”
Katerina faltered, and she attempted to play it off by looking around and ceasing her stride toward him. “Oh, um, sorry for bothering you then.” She toed a rock around in the grass with her left sneaker-encased foot.
“What’s on your mind?” Pan asked. There was no point in beating around the proverbial bush. He had a pretty good idea what it would be. She’d want to leave, go home, away from the likes of him for good. Can’t blame her. It was wrong for him to keep her against her will. It’d been selfish of him to do so.
“I...” Katerina met his gaze and sighed, her shoulders slumping. She took a few steps to the right and sat on the ledge of the fountain pool. “I need to go back to the hotel.”
Pan smiled, yet it felt thin. There were some occasions where he really hated being right, but this was foreseeable. His past wasn’t pretty, and he would have worried if she’d accepted it at face value.
“I see.”
“Wait. That didn’t come out how I intended it to. There are things I need to do at the hotel. For one, I need to ensure my friends know I’m okay. I hope they didn’t call my mother, and if they haven’t, they will soon if I don’t show up. I don’t want my family involved in this. They will have half the nation in an uproar over my disappearance because my mother is as stubborn as I am.”
Katerina blew a stray curl out of her face. “I also need a shower like you just don’t know; my hair is all oily, and I need my lotion and toothpaste to feel clean. I’m girly. If I am not working, I need shampoo and things. Not to mention, if I don’t shave my legs soon, they’ll look like yours. Where it works for the whole satyr thing, yeti legs on women are unattractive.”
He lifted his brows toward his hairline. “Hairy legs, you say? Yes, I could see how that could be a deal breaker,” he said dryly. “You are aware women did not shave their legs back when I was not yet a satyr, aren’t you?”
She made a show of shuddering. “Yes. I saw the hairy armpits in your memory too. I was trying to forget them. Speaking of which, I have a date with my razor, and I think I shouldn’t miss it. If I start looking like a werewolf, I might develop a hostile attitude to go with it.”
Pan threw back his head and laughed. “I am terribly inept in taking care of humans. Please forgive me for not having the bathrooms in better working order before I abducted you.” He’d hoped she wouldn’t need more than him, but he was ever a fool. Katerina laid a hand upon his shoulder as he looked away. She sought to comfort him? Surely not.
“Pan, I didn’t say I was leaving for good. I just have to get my things and make sure Cindy and Rick know I am okay. I should have demanded it sooner, but I was afraid you wouldn’t allow it.” She bit her lip. “I should probably quit my current job as well, as I won’t have any results to turn in. Well, I will...but I won’t be doing any reporting on you that would lead to your identification.”
He loved hearing her call him by his name. It’d been far too long since a woman knew it, let alone called him by it. He all but trembled with the need for her to stay with him after gathering her belongings, and her vow not to reveal his identity to Dionysus or to the public warmed him. But he was sure the god already knew; otherwise, Katerina wouldn’t have been sent to the Pine Barrens.
“I’m not sure quitting is wise. If Dionysus sent you here as a lure, he will know something is up as soon as you resign.” Pan helped Katerina to her feet. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to tempt his anger or his curiosity.”
He stripped off his T-shirt, feeling smug when Katerina visibly swallowed as she watched the cotton slide over his abs. Perhaps it was wrong to make a show of it instead of magically making the shirt vanish. So worth it, though. His arousal strained against his jeans, and he saw her notice that too. Before he had any more crazy ideas, like kissing that stunned look off her face, he summoned his wings, and then stretched. He held his hand out to her.
“I grant you permission to board, my lady.” He wiggled his brows.
“I don’t know if that is the best mode of travel...”
“It’s the only way to travel.”
***
Kat knocked on Cindy and Rick’s door. When it opened a crack, she heard a startled ga
sp moments before a five-foot-four brunette woman flew out and attacked her with a vice-like embrace.
“Kat! Oh, my God, I am so glad you’re alive. We’ve been so worried! We thought for sure you were dead. Mr. Bach even came out here to get the police off their asses to search for you.”
Kat stiffened. Dionysus was here? What did that mean for Pan? She couldn’t help but worry the whole thing really was set up from the beginning to lead him straight to Pan, and she’d fallen right into the role as bait.
Rick came running out of the room next, also attaching himself to Kat in a giant bear hug, or as much as he could manage of one because Cindy was still clinging to her for dear life.
“Did it hurt you?” Rick asked, letting her go and looking her over. “Did it let you go, or did you kick its ass and escape?”
“Can we go inside please?” Kat had an inescapable feeling of being watched, and not in the way Pan would. The sensation didn’t feel observatory. It was malicious, leaving a cold dread in its wake that iced her veins. She glanced around uneasily. She knew Pan waited for her in his commandeered hotel room—she’d seen him go inside herself, mentally picking the lock and all—so who would be watching her? Dionysus?
Cindy ushered them in the room, and Rick shut the door. A quick scraping of metal on metal signaled the chain latch sliding into place. Not caring how filthy she was, Kat collapsed on the bed and exhaled loudly. “I think I’m a freaking magnet for things that aren’t supposed to be there. Maybe I should be a cryptozoologist after all. I keep finding everything. I’m the Indiana Jones of cryptids.”
“How long were you wandering around out there without water?” Rick filled a plastic cup at the sink and handed it to her, not backing down until Kat drank it. What a mother hen.
“For a while. I actually wasn’t that far away,” she fibbed.
She couldn’t say, “Hey, the Jersey Devil is really the Greek god, Pan, and he flew me back here so I can take a shower and assure you I’m alive.” No, they’d check her temperature and call the doctor. Even though they’d seen the Jersey Devil with their own eyes, Greek myths in the modern world would still be too difficult to accept.
“It didn’t...hurt you, did it? That thing had a...a...weenie,” Cindy whispered the childish word like it was profanity. Kat snickered. There was nothing “wee” about it.
“Nothing like that happened. I think he wanted a friend. He let me go.”
“You must be starving,” Rick interrupted as he flipped through the room service menu. Kat shook her head at his antics, wishing she could share everything with them. She would tell them eventually, after Dionysus was no longer a danger to them all.
“I’m fine. Really. I wanted you guys to know I’m okay. I really just want a shower and a good night’s sleep.”
Escaping their clutches proved more difficult than she’d expected, with Cindy offering to stay in the room with her, and feeling betrayed that Kat wanted to be alone. Finally, with the promise of room service being delivered—that Rick—she’d finally convinced them that she would be fine.
Chapter Thirteen
If vanity was a terrible sin, Kat was a ginormous sinner. She sat on the closed toilet seat, foot propped on the lip of the tub as she lotioned her freshly clean and shaved legs. The tropical coconut scented cream made them even silkier to the touch, and she sighed from contentment due to the warm, sultry aroma. Pan was next door, but she was primping like she was getting ready for prom or something equally silly. She shrugged it off, telling herself that she always felt more feminine after shaving. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
Liar.
Although, it wasn’t completely a lie since when she’d peeled off her jeans and gotten a good look at her hairy ape legs, she couldn’t hop in the shower fast enough. The hot water had felt so nice, and her skin was still a little pink from the lengthy amount of time she spent under the scorching stream. The mirror had clouded up, and the white tile floor was damp from where the steam dissipated.
Wrapping a towel around herself, Kat opened the door to find her suitcase and clean clothes. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it more than five feet out of the bathroom before stopping dead in her tracks and temporarily losing control over her bottom jaw as it hung open. The intruder upon the double bed farthest from her waved cheerily as he gained amusement from her reaction.
Pan reclined in nothing but a pair of black slacks, hands behind his head, watching her with a devious expression. He fixated his gaze on her bare legs. How long had he been in her room? The tray of food that room service had sent was on the table next to him.
“Someone had to answer the door for you. You were so lost in your singing that you didn’t hear the knocking.” He grinned wider while holding up a wadded five dollar bill. “I didn’t even have to tip the boy that brought the food. He tipped you for your singing. Said you had the voice of an angel, and even Adele herself would envy it.”
Her face was on fire. “H-how long were you here?” Kat winced at the shrillness of here.
“Since about five songs ago. I must say, you are like a karaoke master’s reason for living. Just what are you so chipper about this evening, vixen? Hmm? You sounded oh, so...passionate.”
Kat’s face was going to become permanently affixed to her palm in his presence. She hid behind her hand to avoid eye contact. She would have to look at him eventually, but not while she was half-naked. Grabbing some items from her suitcase, she stomped back into the bathroom and then slammed the door shut behind her. It barely muffled his laughter.
He sounded way too pleased with himself.
When she returned, she was dressed in a light gray T-shirt and sky blue pajama pants with little white stars all over them. She had on a bra too, mostly to avoid any extra jiggle that could draw attention to her breasts. She had a feeling kicking him out of her room wouldn’t be an option.
Pan rolled over to his side, rested his head against his fist, and smiled. He was in human form at the moment. She could almost believe he was some ordinary, albeit sexy, man lying in her bed. As edible as he appeared, Kat only wanted one thing in her mouth at the moment.
She stalked past him to the cheeseburger and fries room service had brought her. It smelled delicious, the spices it had been marinated in tangy and appetizing, and prompted another growl from her stomach. She was going to tear that burger up.
And she did, Pan watching her the whole time. It wasn’t the unnerving sensation she’d experienced earlier while waiting for Cindy to open the door. When Pan watched her, she felt like she was standing in a desert on a summer day, but it was pleasant. She enjoyed the heat of it, but she didn’t know how to handle or react to it.
“Feel better?”
She nodded. She had skipped lunch two days in a row, and from what she saw out the window, it was well past dinner. Back in her own environment, away from his creepy mansion in the woods, Kat had her hackles back down, and it left her a bit shy. Kat was never shy.
“Why are you so nervous?” Pan called her on it.
“Me? I’m not nervous.” She quickly shoved a ketchup-laden fry into her mouth.
“You are. You can barely look at me all of a sudden. You’re using your meal as a security blanket to hide behind.”
“Pfft. Am not.” Yeah, she was really mature. Pan’s grin widened knowingly and his green eyes sparkled in the lamplight. That man was so fine and looked every bit the trickster he was. Ugh, blasted hormones!
Kat wiped her hands on a napkin and then loaded everything onto the room service tray, placing it back on the cart. She did it all slowly, taking her time, stalling the inevitable. She then moved the cart outside the door so the hotel employees could collect it when they came by.
Shuffling and bedsprings groaning made her glance over her shoulder as she closed the door. Pan was no longer on the bed. She started to turn around when his hands scooped her up under her arms. He spun her slowly toward him, and he was every bit a satyr of legend. His horns were a solid bla
ck, jutting out from his dark brown hair. It was hard not to stare at them. She wanted to reach out and touch one, but didn’t know if that would be considered weird or rude. Kat knew, without looking down, he was naked. His feet would be hoofed.
It was wrong. It was so wrong to desire someone who had hooves and horns. They were traits given to depictions of Satan and his demons; therefore, the satyr was surely a manifestation of sin and lust sculpted into an exquisite male body with perfectly formed abs. The ultimate temptation.
Kat had told herself she wouldn’t have sex with him. He kidnapped her! If she kept reminding herself of it, she could resist him. Trying to keep that in the back of her mind, she lifted her chin and defiantly stared him down. His emerald eyes were dark, reminding her of the forest and the pine trees growing in abundance nearby. His gaze was riveted on her mouth, and she could barely breathe with the desire for him to claim it, to claim her. Nevertheless, she couldn’t give in so easily. She had to stay strong.
“Such challenge in your eyes, vixen. Every instinct within me screams to tame your spirit, but to do so would be tragic.” His breath tickled her lips with its nearness, and he didn’t have to move far to take them if he wished. “I can’t be denied any further in this. You fear giving in to me, but it’s meant to happen. I know you feel it too.”
With scarcely enough time to take a breath, Pan’s lips crashed against hers. They were warm, inviting...impatient. Kat whimpered as her thoughts were stomped out by the weight of her desire—her need. She kissed him back, trembling as he claimed her mouth as his. Kat clung to his shoulders, gasping at the feel of his hot tongue against hers.
She very nearly failed to acknowledge being led in the direction of the bed, befuddled as she was. His kisses were intoxicating, and the warmth of them traveled downward until her whole body was flushed. She’d never been more ready for a man than she was in that moment. Her hands traveled his strong back, groped at his ass, his...her hands brushed the hair thickening halfway down his thighs and she stilled. “I can’t do this.”
The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection Page 16
