Peace for Poseidon (Olympians Ascending Book 1)

by Sotia Lazu

  The former. Definitely.

  And can we revisit the part about him being a god? An Olympian, reborn?

  I throw the car into gear and peel off the curb.

  I had a god between my legs. Worshiping my body.

  He said this was better in real life. Like we’d done it before, only not really. Does this mean yesterday wasn’t a dream? Was he somehow there with me?

  So he can mess with my mind. Worse—he has. More deception. God.

  Someone honks behind me. I give them the finger, though they’re probably right. I’m rolling at a snail’s pace. I can’t trust myself to drive faster, with the turmoil raging inside.

  And the cocky asshole wants to rule the world? Rule how? People have governments. Good or bad, they usually get to choose them. Does Sei see himself as a benevolent tyrant? Or just a tyrant? And what am I supposed to do? Rule by my side, he said. Like he’ll suddenly start taking my opinion into account once he’s Bastard in Charge, when he’s been ignoring it every step of the way so far. I won’t be an accessory, dangling from his muscular arm. No. Just... No.

  I step on the gas, and make it through the yellow light. More honking. Great. I almost rammed into another car. Because of Sei.

  I meant what I said. I’m done with him.

  My heart clenches, and my body aches, but not from the vigor of our coupling, though the memory of him pounding inside me throbs between my legs. This is a hollow ache. The kind that comes with the loss of hope. The kind I should have felt when Tassos betrayed me after we’d been together for four years, but didn’t even register until just now. Can I possibly be hurting because I can’t be with this man I barely know? A man who isn’t even a man? Who deceived me and used me?

  No. It’s not pain. Just anger.

  But I’m crying when I enter my building’s underground parking garage, and keep crying all the way up to the third floor, and well after I let myself into my apartment. Lena isn’t here yet. Shouldn’t be in for a couple hours. I have time to wash all remnants of my time with Sei off my body and compose myself. Come up with a lie for why I won’t be going to the Kifissia Olympian Plaza tomorrow or ever again.

  When the warm water sluices over me, it’s impossible not to think of Sei. No. He’s Poseidon, a stranger, not the guy who made my body sing. I clean my body of his scent but can’t get rid of his memory. He’s etched into my senses.

  More crying? When will the tears stop? My eyes sting, but maybe it’s because I keep checking the screen of my phone. He said I was his fated mate. Shouldn’t he be calling, to get me to go back? Even Tassos made the token effort to convince me he wasn’t really cheating but covering an emotional need born by my prolonged absence.

  Assholes, all of them.

  It’s a little after eight, and I’m about to drift off on the couch, exhaustion tugging at my consciousness, when Lena saunters inside.

  “Well, you look like shit,” she says. “Tough first day?”

  And I’m crying again.

  Her teasing demeanor changes into protective mode in an instant. “What happened? What did he do?” She hurries to me and crouches down, so we’re at eye-level. “Did he...? What did he do, Irine?” Her tone turns shrill with panic. I’ve never seen my little sister so worried about me.

  I want to tell her the truth, need to confide in her, but no good can come of that. Worst case scenario—she thinks I’m nuts. Best case? She believes me and is in danger of Poseidon coming after her, for knowing his secret.

  Though he can’t be planning to keep this a secret for long. How will he claim his freaking throne, unless he makes his existence known?

  “Irine, did he hurt you?” Lena narrows her eyes into dangerous slits. “I knew the guy was bad news.” She stands. Squares her shoulders. “I’m going to take you to a hospital, and then I’m going to kill him.”

  My head must be full of Sei, because I think I see silver in her eyes too.

  I drag myself into a sitting position and hug a throw pillow to my chest. “He didn’t hurt me. Not like that.”

  She looks at me expectantly, and I wanna tell her. Wanna tell her everything. Cry on her shoulder. Have her tell me men are all huge wastes of space, except for our Dad, and that’s why she doesn’t date.

  Instead I say, “I’m falling for him, Lena, and he’s not... relationship material. You were right; I shouldn’t have accepted the job offer.” I shrug. “I’ll keep looking. Meantime, I have my bag back, so dinner is on me.” My smile hurts my cheeks, and from the look she gives me, it isn’t very convincing.

  “I can bust his legs for you anyway,” she says, studying my face.

  A little laugh claws its way up my chest. “No need. Honest. We can’t go around kicking men’s asses because they don’t want us.”

  But he did want me. He wanted me to assure his ascension to power. And to suck his dick, apparently.

  Grief gives way to wrath once more. Poseidon Olympios can go fuck himself. He will never have me again, and without me, good luck getting those powers he lusts after.

  Chapter Seventeen – Sei

  “Stop staring at the thing like you wanna explode it, and fucking drink that.” Dionysos—Denny for short, to C’s ire—slams his hand on the table between us. He usually stays behind the bar or in the kitchen, but Hermes insisted he grace the rest of us with his presence tonight. Don’t know why. Not like Denny has anything constructive to offer. He keeps telling me I fucked up with Irine. Gee, ya think?

  One more time, I focus on making the amber liquid climb up the walls of the glass. No luck. I can’t control the liquid element unless Irine is nearby and horny, and appealing as the idea may be, I can’t rule the world with her in that state around the clock.

  Which isn’t really an option anyway, since I doubt she’ll want to be naked within a mile from me ever again.

  I down the shot and set the glass beside the six previous ones. Unlike my ducks, that are all over the place, the shot glasses form a neat little row.

  “Any better?” Ares asks. His bored tone says he couldn’t care less either way. “Your sulking is pitiful.”

  Yeah... We’ll see how cool he is when he finally meets the Valkyrie fate has in store for him. Like with all our mates except for Hermes’, who’s still unaccounted for, C has been building a file on her since she came of age. Unlike the rest of us, Ares has asked to be surprised with his female. Says he likes the chase too much, to be interested if the prey is predestined to put out.

  “Why are you here, again?” I glare. Of all of us, he’s the most antagonistic. Can’t blame him. He was already fourteen and living on the streets of New York, when C finally caught up with him. He’s got issues, which he wisely doesn’t take out on his martial-arts students, so we’re the usual targets for his surges in testosterone.

  Ares doesn’t seem kill-happy today. He blows me a kiss and sweeps his long, black hair back from his forehead. “Day off. Can’t think of a better way to pass the time than watching you mope over pussy.”

  “Watch your tongue.” Hades’ warning tone makes me snap my head his way. “You’re talking about your future queen,” he adds.

  Ares snorts and takes a slug of his beer. “Yeah, she’s so important, Sei’s here on the prowl, to wash off her taste.”

  I won’t throttle him. He’s my brother. I love him.

  Still, I put more force than necessary behind the playful punch I land on his shoulder. “Not on the prowl. Having a drink with my brothers.”

  Okay, I smiled at the occasional female who passed by our table, but that was only polite. I can’t fathom sinking into any other body, now that I’ve felt Irine’s flutter and yield beneath me. Wish I could fuck her out of my system, but I suspect that will never be an option.

  I stare at Hades. “You think she’ll come around?”

  Whatever got into him just now is gone, replaced by a sarcastic smirk. “I think you’ll be a fool to allow her to believe she has options. She’s yours. Take her.”

 
“Yeah. Go grab her and show her who’s boss.” Ares’ pint glass hits the table so hard, it shatters, sending shards of glass and the last dregs of his beer spilling all over the surface.

  Denny Looks toward the bar. The disgusted curling of his lip has nothing to do with the mess. As one of the waitresses hurries over to wipe the table clean, he says, “Sure. Listen to these two. They have an awesome track with getting women to stick around.”

  Hermes chuckles. “You’re one to talk.”

  One dark eyebrow arched, Denny says, “You know as well as I do that women very much want to stick around me. I’m just selective.” But not of whom he beds.

  He looks like a darker version of Hermes, and the two of them make a lethal combo when it comes to women. They will sleep with any willing female, sometimes at the same time, make her feel like she’s the center of their world, and then move on to the next unsuspecting target. They don’t lie about their intentions, but they put so much effort into seducing their lovers, no woman believes them when they say it’s only for one night.

  Denny knows who his mate is, but refuses to initiate contact. He enjoys his life as a mortal too much, to give it up for the burdens of godhood—his words, not mine. That’s where he and Hermes clash. Hermes is dying to find out whom he’s meant to spend eternity with. I guess he’s set on testing all possibilities in the meantime.

  “So what’s your suggestion, pretty boy?” Ares asks Denny. When he starts with the cutesy nicknames, it’s time to cut him off alcohol. It doesn’t affect him as much as it does humans, but it does amp up his aggression that’s always near the surface.

  Denny smiles sweetly, as if Ares paid him a compliment. “I say he woo the lady. Send her a couple dozen roses. Ask her out. Dazzle her with music and good food. Then invite her—yes, Hades, that means allowing her the option to decline—to share his bed and his potentially never-ending life.”

  “Too much effort. You do realize he’s fucked her already, yes?” Ares asks smugly.

  Hephaestus, who’s been quietly sipping on his bottle of Mythos, unfolds his arm so fast I only register that he moved as his knuckles make contact with Ares’ mouth. “Language,” he says, before he turns to me. “The bond isn’t about sex. It’s about offering yourself fully to your mate. And it goes both ways. You have to love her when you’re inside her, and she has to feel the same. Instead, you got caught in a lie or two, talked yourself into her pants”—his words ooze distaste—“basically admitted to messing with her head, and wonder why she didn’t immediately pledge her undying love. Sometimes you’re a bigger idiot than this asshole right here.”

  Ares glowers, but his shoulders are shaking, and not with anger. He gets Hephaestus in a headlock without rising from his seat. Hephaestus hooks a foot behind the back leg of Ares’ chair, then uses his weight to shove his shoulder into Ares’ chest and send him flying backward.

  Hades rolls his eyes.

  Hermes snickers.

  Denny buries his face in his palms. “Every fucking time,” he mumbles. “And do they ever help with the cleanup? Nope.”

  I share his exasperation, but not over our brothers’ roughhousing. “You really think wooing her will work?” I ask.

  He seems startled when he looks up at me. “You’re still here? Go. Claim your queen.”

  I nod and stand... and I’m outside the bar. How did I do that?

  It’s Irine. The bond may not have been established, but its threads are weaving together. She has to be feeling it too.

  I have her address back at the penthouse, but Hermes, Hades, and I drove over here in Hermes’ car, and I won’t have either of them tag along now.

  I take out my cell phone, to call C and ask for Irine’s contact info. My screen informs me I have a text message. With all the noise inside, I didn’t hear it get delivered.

  It’s from C, and it has an address and a cell phone number. I don’t need to ask whom they belong to. And at some point, I should stop being surprised to always find him one step ahead of the rest of us.

  I try her number first, but an automated voice lets me know the number I have dialed is not available at the moment. No answering service, either. I guess I’m going by there. Like Denny said, I need to apologize. Court her. Pretend to be the man she needs.

  But that’s not how I do things. I don’t beg women, I don’t use flowers to buy sex—or forgiveness, for that matter—and I don’t invite them politely to share my life. What I do is show them what I offer and be honest about what I expect.

  What am I offering? The answer is usually simple—a night of unparalleled pleasure and nothing more. This time, though... What? Immortality? Irine didn’t seem too keen on living forever when it was brought up. The promise of a place beside me on the new Pantheon didn’t impress her either. And if she wasn’t swayed by that, throwing money at her won’t do the trick. Not that I’d want to be with her if she cared about my fortune.

  I care about it, though. And I care about regaining the powers that are currently nothing more than a faint memory. I care enough to be prepared to bond with a female forever. What does that say about the depth of my character?

  Flagging down a taxi tests my power of persuasion, but I get minimal grumbling when I give the driver our destination. It’s a twenty-minute drive that gets him near a metro station. He’s bound to find another ride there.

  I have twenty fucking minutes to make the biggest pitch of my life. Sell myself to the most important woman in the world.

  Chapter Eighteen – Irine

  When the sound of the downstairs buzzer echoes through the living room, I know it’s not our sushi. The unsupported certainty sinks in my bones.

  Lena ducks her head through the doorway. “Is that the food?”

  I swear she and Mom always do that—ask who’s at the door, instead of looking at the freaking screen to find out.

  “It’s Poseidon.” My heart racing beneath my ribs and the butterflies dancing in my stomach tell me he’s come after me. Dread and hope swirl in a knot in my gut and make my head spin. I make no effort to get up, because my legs won’t hold me if I try. They’ve turned to cooked spaghetti. I can’t face him.

  Her face hardens. “I’ll tell him to fuck off. Or do you want me to call the police?” She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll call the police.”

  That would be catastrophic. He might be able to hurt them. As in, seriously hurt them. Or they might hurt him. Why does that make my insides clench? He lied to me. Used me. Above all else, he’s a danger to my world.

  Lena is halfway to the cordless phone, when I say, “No. Don’t. Just tell him I don’t want to talk to him? Please?” He won’t hurt her. The same gut feeling that knows it’s him downstairs says so.

  “You sure?”

  I nod. “You can’t call the cops on someone for dropping by, when he’s done nothing wrong.”

  Her gaze bores into me. “He really didn’t hurt you?”

  “Only wounded my pride.” And broke my heart into tiny shards. But I can’t say that. It’s crazy. Why would he have any effect on my heart, when I barely know him?

  For the same reason the thought of not seeing him again rips through me like barbed wire.

  “She doesn’t wanna speak to you. Get lost,” Lena yells into the intercom. Then— “Sorry. Thought you were someone else. Third floor.” She glares at me. “It’s the sushi guy, you dork.”

  I hear the elevator coming up as she opens the door to our apartment, but before the telltale snick signals its arrival, someone says, “I apologize for the deception, but I need to talk to Irine.”

  Not someone. Sei. His hair stands on end, like he’s been running his fingers through it, and his eyes are wild when his gaze lands on me. “I’m sorry.” He brushes past Lena, toward me. “I want you, and I went about it the wrong way. I should have laid my cards on the table and told you everything from the beginning.”

  I sit up, and the world tilts.

  Lena gasps. “Are you married? You made a pa
ss at my sister, and you’re married?”

  “Ouch, man,” says a different man. Sushi guy is here.

  My sister hushes him, but they both stand at the door and watch as Sei stops beside me.

  Sei cups my face with both hands, forcing me to look up at him. “I’m sorry. Tell me how I can prove it to you, and I will. How can I make things right?”

  “Shit. You are—”

  “He’s not fucking married; he’s immortal,” I hiss at Lena.

  The door slams shut, and I glance up to see her leaning against it, no food or delivery guy in sight. “He’s what?” Her eyes gleam silver again.

  So do Sei’s.

  The living room is too bright. I close my eyes against the brightness. The couch shifts beneath me.

  Can you faint from a sitting position?

  No. I’m not the fainting type. I need to face this. Face him.

  I wedge my eyes open. “What do you want from me, Sei?”

  “What did you say he is?” Lena screeches.

  Sei huffs. “I am immortal. Potentially. I am the reincarnation of one of the ancient gods. Poseidon, if you’re heard of him?” I think he’s trying to sound modest, but he doesn’t appear to have any experience with anything less than total self-assurance. “I really didn’t plan on doing this with an audience, but I had to talk to Irine.” To me, he says, “Without you, I can’t be a god again.” He rubs his face with both palms. “This came out wrong.”

  “You think?” I’m pretty proud of myself for the lack of interest in my tone. “I’m not going to help you take over the world. What even makes you qualified to run things? Countries aren’t the same as hotels.” Wish I had more solid arguments, but I never expected to need to argue against world domination.

  Sei scowls, and his skin glows. Not in the had-great-sex way. It literally emits a soft white light that makes him seem ethereal. And he is just that, isn’t he? An ancient creature in a new body that will somehow evolve if I bond with him?

  “I am the leader of the new Pantheon,” he says. “I am Poseidon, god of the seas, and since Zeus isn’t coming back, lord of the skies too. I will ascend to my full capacity once I bond with you—and make no mistake, I will have you.”