Out of Eggnog Aphrodite - A Between the Chronicles Novella (The Goddess Chronicles Book 5)

by S. E. Babin

  “Your sarcasm is noted,” I said.

  “So, what do I get if I come to your dinner?”

  I paused, opened my mouth and paused again. “My undying devotion?” I said, half-joking because I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

  “Mmm. I was thinking more along the lines of twice weekly visits.”

  My heart stuttered and empathy flooded through my veins. Immortality could be lonely at times, but I’d lived up in Olympus where there were plentiful people and scads of trouble to get into. Hades lived alone here, his only company the souls roaming aimlessly through the River Styx below us and a mostly silent ghost. He’d once had Persephone, but the more I got to know him, the more I wondered what was going on with them. He professed to love her, but I wasn’t sure. What I did know was Hades was playing a dangerous game, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be involved, no matter how much I liked him.

  “Until Persephone comes home? I asked in a gentle tone.

  His eyes darkened from their normal silver to a stormy gray. “Of course.” His voice was terse and his tone clipped.

  “You know I’ll do everything I can to bring your wife home.” I wanted him to know this. I wasn’t sure why I had such misgivings about taking his case on. I knew immortal politics were always at play with everything, but something felt different about this one.

  Hades stood and walked over to his bookshelf, his shoulders stiff with tension.

  I’d said the wrong thing.

  “I -” I started to speak, but Hades interrupted me.

  “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be surrounded by gray, stone walls and the only conversation available is a ghost in a time loop, one whose only motivation is to bring refreshments?”

  I couldn’t say I did. “I can imagine it’s lonely.”

  A half-laugh, half sigh came from him and his shoulders slumped. “Even when Persephone was here it was lonely. She is a...beautiful thing. Bright and colorful. But she doesn’t want the things I can offer her. She wants to see the world. She wants to have material things. She wants -” He turned back to me, his gaze haunted. “Sometimes she is not a good person. She wants everything but me, Abby.”

  I was rooted to my seat, stunned at his words. He so rarely spoke this much about her. He had to be wrong. “She is your wife,” I said and immediately realized how stupid that was.

  “Have you never been involved in an unhappy relationship?” His eyes told me he knew the answer to this.

  Hephaestus. My first husband. Terrible and grouchy and depressing to be around. I’d gone into it thinking I could change him. I’d seen light in him a few times, but I could never bring it out and nurture him. Some people were born to be unhappy. I suspected Heph was one of those people.

  I nodded. “It can be miserable.”

  “It is. But I need her back here. And soon.”

  I tilted my head in curiosity. “I don’t understand this. I don’t understand why you are working so hard to bring her home.” I lifted my hands up. “Help me understand.”

  His jaw tightened and he shook his head once. “I cannot, Abby. I wish I could, but it is not my story to tell. Not now.”

  I stared at him for a long moment before standing. “I’ll come three times a week while Persephone is still gone if you stay until New Year’s Eve.”

  Shock widened his eyes. “You’re asking me to move in with you?”

  I laughed. “Not quite. I’m asking you to come stay. With me. With friends.”

  I stepped closer to him and laid a hand on his arm. “I understand loneliness and I understand despair. What I also understand is sometimes people need each other, even in the strangest of circumstances. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to -”

  “Can’t,” he said.

  “Or can’t. But I can be a friend to you.”

  He swallowed hard. “I will have to come back here often to make sure things are on track.”

  “Well, who else delivers the souls? Of course.” I patted his arm one more time and stepped away. “I expect you to be at my house by tomorrow evening at 6 pm. Dinner is a formal affair.” It wasn’t. I just wanted to see him in a suit. “I expect you to look dapper.”

  He bowed to me. “I dare not disappoint the lady.”

  “Good.” With a final lingering gaze, I blinked out of the Underworld and back into my vehicle at the grocery store.

  “What have I done?” I asked myself before I started the car and headed home.

  Chapter 7

  The house was still standing. That was always good news to come home to. I pushed open the door, half bent over to avoid a blast of magic just in case things had gotten hairy while I was out. I crept into the doorway like a burglar and swept my gaze around my living room. It was quiet. Suspiciously so. I pushed myself to the upright position and stepped into the kitchen, poised for destruction and mayhem.

  Nothing.

  I sighed in relief and opened my fridge to make sure all of the ingredients for Christmas dinner had made it in. A note slapped onto the ham caught my eye:

  Dude, you feeding an army you forgot to tell me about?

  Maybe I had gone a little bit overboard at the grocery store buying extras of everything. If things kept going the way they were maybe I would be feeding an army soon. I took the note off the ham, tucked it into my shirt pocket and shut the door.

  It was time for me to hit the sack. I hoped that was where everyone else was too. But I couldn’t help but think they were out causing magic and mayhem on the poor unsuspecting people of Asheville. I’d deal with it later.

  I plodded up the stairs intent on face planting on my bed, but as soon as I pushed my door open I wanted to groan in frustration. Hermes sat alone on my new teal colored bedspread reading a paperback of the new Sandman Slim novel.

  I brushed an errant curl out of my face. “I don’t have any more energy to deal with you, Hermes.”

  Trying my best to ignore him, I stepped into the room and rustled through my dresser looking for a pair of pajamas.

  “I am not here to fight.”

  My hands stalled. “Then why are you on my bed like you own it?”

  He huffed in amusement. “Because it was comfortable, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss you.”

  I pulled out a pair of well-worn pajama pants and a faded tank top and turned around. “I’m here.”

  Hermes set his paperback down and pinned me with his whiskey colored eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

  My gaze narrowed. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

  A ghost of his old familiar grin graced his face. “Someone who shall remain nameless informed me I was being a bit of an asshat.”

  I snorted. “Just a bit?”

  Hermes shrugged. Light color infused his cheeks. “Maybe a lot.”

  “I owe you an apology as well.”

  Hermes raised a hand. “You have apologized enough to me. I failed to listen. I cannot say I understand it, nor can I say I have fully forgiven you for it. I will say that I still hope one day to repair this rift between us and perhaps, in time, call you a friend again.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes as I wished we could erase everything that happened between us if we could only find that strong bond of friendship we once shared. I nodded and sniffed, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I hope so as well,” was all I could say.

  He swung his legs over the side of my bed and stood. “Good. I shall leave you to your rest now.”

  As he was leaving, I realized I couldn’t leave a lie between us. “Hermes?”

  He turned, one arm on the door, showing off a tanned, flexed bicep. It filled me with sadness. Once those biceps had been mine to bite.

  “I hoped to steal Atlas from you.”

  A small smile formed. “I know.”

  “Will you give him to me?”

  He shook his head, slow and sexy. “No. If you want to win the rest of Atlas’ servitude or free him from his cord, you shall have to ou
twit me.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against my desk. “Challenge accepted.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Good night, Hermes,” I said.

  “Goodnight, fair Abby.”

  As I got dressed for bed, I hoped tomorrow was a little less weird than today was.

  Chapter 8

  If wishes were horses…

  “Zeus, you cannot take all the bacon just because it pleases you!” I waved my spatula at him in a threatening manner.

  “I will take the bacon if I want it!” Zeus glared at me and went to swipe another slice.

  I swatted at his hand but missed. He snagged another piece and shoved it in his mouth.

  I muttered an unflattering name under my breath and glared at him. Zeus winked and chewed his ill-gotten bacon with relish.

  “I’m sending you to the store for more bacon today.”

  At that Zeus rolled his eyes. “You are immortal for crying out loud, and one of the most powerful goddesses who has ever walked. And you’re still going to the store?”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from yelling at him. “Yes.”

  “You’re a waste of an immortal.”

  “Keep pushing me, and I won’t make you any sweet potato casserole.”

  Zeus sighed. “I could muster that up too if I wanted it.”

  “Nothing tastes like homemade, Zeus. Nothing.”

  He frowned but didn’t try to steal any more bacon. Probably because he knew I was right. I could conjure up anything I wanted but nothing tasted as good as bacon fresh from the farm or organic maple syrup bottled right here in our city. I bartered with one of the few local farms producing the syrup here in North Carolina. A few dozen muffins for a couple of bottles of it was well worth the effort it took me.

  Footsteps on the staircase alerted me to the presence of more hungry latecomers to the breakfast table. I had woken up first, followed by Zeus. Based upon the tread of the footfall, either Hermes or Atlas was up next.

  A mussed blond head poked into the kitchen. “I smell bacon.”

  “Zeus ate most of it,” I told Hermes. “You’ll have to wait a few.”

  Zeus grinned at Hermes, but Hermes wasn’t amused.

  I shivered as their combined power signatures rolled over me. If the three of us ever banded together for a common cause, we could tear the world apart. That was a terrifying thought. I shook those maudlin thoughts off and focused on flipping more bacon over so it wouldn’t burn.

  A few minutes later and the entire kitchen was filled with immortals, including Clotho who surprisingly had chosen to stay even with the chaos I had going on. I was glad she did. I felt like she was good backup even if she didn’t always agree with me.

  I filled a tray full of bacon and started the slow process of frying eggs. Soon enough, everyone was chowing down on breakfast and I was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee and watching all of them. So far so good. There was a stiffness between Hera and Zeus, but overall no one was flinging magic and no one was threatening bodily harm. Yet. The day was still young, though. I heaped a plate full of breakfast, placed it on a tray, added a cup of coffee and glass of orange juice and walked upstairs to where Atlas was staying. Balancing the tray on one knee, I rapped on the door.

  He opened it wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants.

  “Whoa,” I said at the sight of his massive bare chest. “You look like a professional wrestler.”

  He snorted and held the door open. “Come in, Aphrodite.”

  “Call me Abby, please,” I said and pushed my way through. I set the tray down on top of his mussed bed. “That will be forty bucks.”

  The look on his face made me burst out laughing. “Just kidding. I’ll add it to the final bill.” With a wink, I headed out of the door. “By the way, this may seem like a punishment right now, but breakfast in bed is a total win.”

  He glanced hungrily at the tray on the bed. I wondered when the last time Atlas had good food. I shut the door and let him get to it, vowing again to figure out a way to wrest him from Olympus’ control.

  Artie caught me as I stepped out of the room.

  “One day until Christmas. Do you think we can all survive until then?”

  My lower lip wobbled as I stared at my best friend. “Thank you for not turning tail and running back home.” I sniffed and wiped my hand across my face.

  She chuckled in surprise and gathered me to her for a warm hug. “Oh Abs. If I stayed with you for all the other craziness you’ve had in your life, I wouldn’t leave you for something like this.”

  I blubbered against the soft cotton of her shirt. “But you have your own work now, and I’m still here just swinging in the wind!”

  Artie patted me on the back and pushed me away to brush my hair away from my face. “Nonsense. You’ve saved the world more times than I can count. You put Zeus in his place and now you have a much better boss.” Her gaze narrowed a little bit and I could see the thought swirling behind her eyes.

  “Spit it out,” I said.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you and that lovable hunk of Underworld, but I urge you to be careful. Persephone is his bride, and Demeter is not someone to screw with. I say this with love.”

  “Nothing is going on,” I insisted, but even I could hear the waver in my voice.

  “Uh huh,” she said. “He looks at you like a starving man eyes a buffet.”

  “Shut up,” I said with affection.

  Artie let go of me and with a head motion at Atlas’ door said, “Who is that fine hunk of butter in there?”

  I’d forgotten to make introductions. Crap. “Atlas.”

  Artie’s brows rose almost to her hairline. “The Atlas? Holy balls, man.”

  I leaned in. “I’m trying to free him,” I whispered to her.

  She blinked those beautiful violet eyes in surprise. “How?”

  I shrugged. “No idea.”

  Artie shook her head. “No doubt by doing something insane. Count me in.”

  We high-fived each other and went our separate ways.

  I stood in the kitchen like a drill sergeant full of errant privates. “Tomorrow is Christmas. If you can’t stay out of my way today and get along, I will make you peel potatoes until your hands are raw.”

  Zeus opened his mouth to speak, and I silenced him with a glare. “Potatoes. All. Day. Long. My house. My rules.”

  “You will get along and if you can’t get along, you will take it outside. The first person who damages my house will get a face full of magic and not the Tinkerbell kind. Got it?” I put my hands on my hips and glared at every single one of them.

  Atlas couldn’t get the grin off his face. Artie’s smile was crooked. Clotho looked like she was about to burst out laughing, and Hera and Zeus couldn’t stop alternating between glaring at me and elbow nudging each other.

  I threw my hands up in the air in disgust. “I don’t even know why all of you people are here!”

  Zeus tried to hug Hera who promptly punched him in the face. Shock stunned him for a moment before he reached in, grabbed her by the back of the head and brought her face to his. Where he promptly laid a blush-worthy kiss on her lips.

  Hermes groaned with embarrassment. Artie snickered and I stood there open mouthed.

  But after a moment, Hera pulled away and smacked Zeus right in the chest with a massive bolt of magic.

  A stunned silence fell in the kitchen as we watched Zeus fly several feet and crumple into a pile in the living room.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered under my breath before I got my wits about me and I scrambled to his side.

  The sound of feet stampeding behind me warred with the sound of blood rushing in my ears as I knelt beside him, praying he was okay.

  “Zeus?” I nudged him gently and rolled him over.

  A wide grin was spread across his face as he clutched the open wound leaking from his chest. “She still loves me,” he said
and coughed up ichor.

  I shrieked in horror and turned panicked eyes to Artie. “Call Asclepius!”

  The wizened ugly doctor didn’t like us, that much was obvious, but we always managed to screw him into working for us. This time, he was unable to refuse us or barter because of the patient we had.

  He sucked in one breath of horror, but it was all the reaction we got from him. Asclepius was a professional and, I must admit, quite used to our murderous shenanigans by now.

  Hera still sat in the kitchen, frozen in place, her pretty features set in stone, but tears still falling down her face. I sat beside her, trying to avoid my own chest full of magic.

  “I think he will be okay,” I lied.

  A broken half-laugh half-sob came from somewhere deep inside her. “You are a terrible liar,” she said after a moment.

  “If anyone can save him, it will be Asclepius.” It was true. Most of us had some innate healing magic, and if Asclepius needed us he would ask. But I doubted he would unless he felt the situation was dire. He came equipped with a special skill-set. Formerly a mortal physician, Asclepius caught the attention of Zeus millennia ago and he was brought to immortality by the very person he was now treating.

  Talk about a depressing full circle.

  “I hate him,” Hera said as she blew her nose into a tissue.

  I didn’t think she did, but I wisely remained mum. “It’s understandable,” was the only thing I offered.

  “Don’t ever give yourself to a man, Aphrodite. He will take and take and take and then cast you aside for the pretty young thing he’s eyed for centuries.”

  I also didn’t say Gaia was much older than her because it wasn’t helpful and I was learning more about self-preservation these days. I knew she knew their history. I knew it too, and I knew Hera was smart enough to know this was probably inevitable. Terrible, but inevitable.

  So I sat there with her instead and waited while Asclepius worked on Zeus. I felt he would be okay. Hermes took a similar wound several months ago, but from someone much less powerful than Hera. He took a while to recover, but he did. One thing I was concerned about was his storages of power. Zeus held caches of power hidden around Olympus. One of them was taken during my first official case. How that would affect him now, if at all, remained to be seen.