At the apartment, Meg pulled out Arkady’s schedule and looked over the entries while I peeled off the remnants of my boots.
Meg thumped the paper. “Here. He’s going to be at the Brightwater Clinic for a graft tomorrow at two p.m. And there’s a notation that says ‘back door.’ I guess he’s trying to be discreet.” She held up the iPhone. “There’s a portal somewhere in the alley by the back exit. If we can just be there when he arrives …”
“Then we’ll wing it. No pun intended.”
Meg pulled back a bit of her sleeve. Her sleek black feathers, which under the light revealed a rainbow-like sheen, came down to her wrist. “I don’t have much room left for mistakes.”
“Tell me about it. What’s next for me, the full yellow beak?”
Meg stretched and yawned. “I’m going to take a shower. At least my hair is still my own. Order something, will you? I’m starving!”
I was about to pick up the phone when I saw something lying on the counter—a strawberry, as fat as my fist and dipped in dark chocolate, sitting on a gold plate.
Hades. That guy just never lets up. I stared at it, then picked it up and took a huge bite.
“Mmm, delicious,” I said with my mouth full. “But unoriginal.” After polishing it off, I padded into my bedroom. A trail of red rose petals led the way.
“Cliché.” I trampled them.
A sexy black lace chemise lay draped over my pillow.
“Dream on.” I took off my jacket and opened the closet door. A couture-line Badgley Mischka creation hung there.
I yelled. “Okay, nice—not that I can go anywhere looking like this.” I pushed the gown aside and took out my pink Victoria’s Secret sweat-jammies. I paused.
“You’re not going to watch, are you? Don’t make me tell your wife.” Coming out of the closet, I saw that the lingerie was gone. When I peeked down the hall, the petals had disappeared. Then the doorbell rang.
Hesitantly, I turned the knob, wondering who would be waiting on the other side. I opened the door—and stood toe to toe with a smirking Hades, dressed in a Papa John’s uniform. He held up three pizza boxes. The smell wafted out: cheese, pepperoni, and onions. I lost my appetite.
“What, are you part-timing now? They say the economy is bad, but Olympians delivering pizza and answering phones?” I shook my head. “What a sad day. What’s next, vacation cruises to Tartarus?”
“My services are free of charge,” he said. His voice, like silk, slid over me like a warm breeze, leaving chills in its wake. Only he could make his cheesy outfit look good. I wished Persephone was able to come pick up her playmate. Although no doubt she’d find a way to blame me for his showing up unannounced in my doorway.
“We didn’t order Papa John’s. Or pepperoni. Sorry. Wrong address, wrong order.” I went to slam the door in his face. I wouldn’t have that satisfaction when I became his prisoner—unless a more powerful god showed up to free me.
The door started to reverse course. Hades snapped his fingers and the pizza—and silly uniform—were gone. And so was the apartment. Suddenly I realized that we were in a sumptuous bedroom; the dark paneled walls gleamed in the light of hundreds of candles. A massive round bed, with a thick mattress canopied in sheer white curtains, dominated the room. On the left was a steaming bath big enough for a swim team, complete with floating rose petals and bottles of scented oils. Two champagne flutes, the contents bubbling up merrily, waited beside a plate of succulent fruits.
“Welcome to my boudoir,” he purred.
His place?! I felt panic settling in.
On the right was a table smothered with all manner of food: meats, vegetables, breads, and the most wondrous selection of desserts. Every temptation, and I’m sure more I couldn’t even dream up, waited there.
He stood behind me. His breath was hot on my neck but I got goose bumps—his lips were too close to my skin. He moved in to kiss me and I dodged him, running toward the bed.
Bad move!
My heart pounded, fear making my blood rush through my body. When he moved closer, I held out my clammy normal hands to ward him off.
“I don’t date married men. I have a job to finish. I think my mother’s calling me. Your wife’s gonna kill me!” What else could I add? Oh, yeah. “Take me back.”
“I can give you so much more, cara mia. Give me just one night.”
I shook my head in denial, but he merely laughed. “I can see the passion in you, Sharisse.” He leaned dangerously close but I refused to cower, even if I did skirt around, away from that monstrous bed.
“Margaret has time for Jeremy. You can make time for me.”
I turned on him angrily. “I don’t think so!”
Against my will, he brought my hand to his lips. I tried to tug it away, but it was useless. He was more powerful, even without being a god. I’m such a girl. I should sign up for some strength training.
His tongue drew little circles around each of my knuckles, his full lips trailing lightly over my skin.
If only he were someone—anyone—else!
“Forget about Margaret. We’ll make a new deal.”
My head was spinning from breathing so fast. My knees wanted to buckle, and I think they actually started to shake. With one smooth motion, he captured my lips and body for a searing, stop-my-heart kiss. Ooh, temptation! I felt faint, but strangely alive. It took a few moments before I was able to turn my head aside, breaking contact.
“I will destroy the contract,” he drawled. My fingers dug into his shoulders because I felt too weak to stand on my own. “We’ll make a better one.”
“No.” My voice was breathy.
“Is it so much? One evening of your undivided and willing attention and you keep everything. A single night with me and the contract is gone, Arkady is someone else’s problem, and I’ll even free Margaret. Plus, you can retain the money, the apartment, and the Visa, with plenty more to follow. Anything you desire.”
“What about Persephone?” I gasped as he leaned in to nip my shoulder. My legs were definitely trembling now. He held me closer, molding his body to mine. I was scared. Force was ugly, no matter how pretty the package.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll never know.”
“Trust me, she’ll know. And whatever you say about protection, I’m sure I’m a dead woman. So the answer is no.”
“Think about it, cara mia. To show you my good faith … ” He kissed my fingers. I could feel my feet! And wiggle individual toes. I could wear my shoes … but Meg couldn’t wear a tank top.
This isn’t right! I started to struggle.
“You’ve taught me that nothing is that simple, Hades,” I said. “It’s not black or white, yes or no. I can’t trust you. And more than that, I won’t screw Meg.” I shook my head. “You always have ulterior motives. I’m no saint, but I don’t do betrayal. Take me back so I can do the job you assigned me.”
“Do you realize what you’re giving up?” Suddenly Hades wasn’t wearing his tight jeans and tee anymore. Or anything but a blatant invitation.
He was made for sinning, but not with me.
I flinched when I felt my clothes dissolve. He’d probably spied on me in the shower and seen me naked already, so I didn’t give him the satisfaction of recoiling. I stood there boldly, although I did peek at my legs. It might be the last time they ever looked human.
“No.” I held out one hand, the other I slapped onto my naked hip. “Clothes, please. I need to go back. Now.”
He stepped closer. I jumped back.
“I think you owe me, Sharisse,” he purred. “So many little things I do for you. Little gifts, visits.” I could feel the heat roll off his body as he moved closer. I ran and yanked the bed sheet off, wrapping it around me.
“No fair tormenting the lonely virgin! How many ti
mes do I have to say it? No deal negotiating, no abandoning Meg, and no sex! And I won’t be in your debt. Take all the gifts and give me back the talons. I’d rather have them and do my job.” I held up a hand and cocked my head. “Wait, I think the iPhone says—”
I hadn’t even finished my bluff when I was back in the apartment. Frantically, I checked to see if Hades remembered my clothes. I wouldn’t put it past him to dump me here naked. I was dressed—but without panties!
“We’re not finished, cara mia. I will enjoy my souvenir.” Hades’ voice was a whisper next to my ear, sliding like a lick down my neck before it disappeared.
“Pig!” I shouted.
“I’ll say,” said Meg, walking in and eyeing the boxes. “Three pizzas? How hungry are you?”
Best-Laid Plans
We have five measly days left to do this job, so let’s not mess it up this afternoon,” I said, poking the calendar on the refrigerator door. Every day since we’d come into this doomed paradise had a large X through it; we were on day eight. Shar walked over, a troubled set to her pouty pink lips. I didn’t want to tell her that that shade drew the eye toward her beaky nose. I think she was holding on by a thread—bird toes, scaly skin, twitches, and now this.
“Let’s hope that today turns out to be successful. Think positive,” she said. “Isn’t that what you’ve been studying with your magic and feng shui and all that stuff? That it’s, like, 98 percent intention or something like that?”
“Sorry, my power of positive thinking is running a little low today,” I said. “Let’s just go over the plan.”
“Right,” Shar said, strutting up and down the living room, from the glass wall to the door and back again. “Arkady’s appointment is at two p.m. We go into the office and tell Jeremy, Reynaldo, and whoever else will listen that I have a checkup appointment for my eyes and that we have to leave at noon. You’re coming with me, because I won’t be able to see once they poke me, put drops in, blah, blah, blah.”
I gave her a thumbs-up.
“Before we leave, we double check that the appointment is still on, and then go to the clinic and find the portal.”
“Check,” I said.
“Then I go into the hospital and charm someone into giving me a wheelchair if I can’t steal one first. We bring said chair to the portal and we wait.”
“And when Arkady shows up, we entrance whoever’s in the car with him—”
“Even if it’s Jeremy,” Shar reminded me.
“—even if it’s Jeremy,” I stated firmly. “Then we put Arkady into his wheelchair …”
“… we bring him to the brink of the portal,” continued Shar.
“… and in he goes, dosvedanya,” I concluded.
Shar’s hazel eyes sparkled. “Sounds like a plan coming together. I can’t wait to do this!”
Everything was going according to schedule. We got to the office and Demeter was absent. Hopefully talking to squirrels, spring cleaning, getting ready for Persephone’s arrival. We didn’t run into Jeremy as we went about our usual duties cleaning up old paper coffee cups, putting files away, and sorting copy jobs, all while waiting to tell someone about Shar’s fictitious eye appointment so we could escape. When the clock passed eleven, I started to worry.
Shar nudged me out of the way to dump a load of copy mistakes into the recycle bucket.
“I say if we don’t see anyone in the next five minutes, we leave a note and go. We can always come back when we’re done,” I offered.
Before she could agree, Jeremy’s voice echoed in the hallway. “Meg? Shar?”
“Finally!” Shar poked her head out of the copy room door. “In here!” She waved.
Jeremy came in, looking harried.
“I hope nothing’s wrong,” Shar said, adjusting her sunglasses.
He looked at me. “Demi’s out, and Reynaldo’s been on the phone all morning with the buyers for orders. I’m totally on my own, and I have so much to do. And when we get back from Mr. Romanov’s appointment, he immediately needs to have his wheatgrass tea infusion, and I don’t have time to get it beforehand. It’s not pretty when he gets thrown off schedule.”
I wondered what Arkady thought taking wheat grass would accomplish. At least we knew the appointment hadn’t been changed.
“Anyway, I need you two to run some errands so that Mr. Romanov will have what he needs when he gets back.”
Shar looked at me, and I could almost read her thoughts. We’ll go wherever you want. After we go to the clinic. Your boss has a date with destiny.
“You have go to Chinatown, to these pharmacies,” Jeremy continued, handing me a paper with five or six addresses on it. “At each one, give them this list.” He took another paper from his clipboard and handed it to me. It was covered in Chinese characters. I looked up at him and curled my lip—I had no idea what they meant.
He must have figured out what I was thinking. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “They’ll know what to give you. Just go, and get back here fast.” He turned to go, but suddenly swore, threw his head back, and closed his eyes. “We have models coming in today! I forgot to order food—Reynaldo is going to freak!”
“We’ll do it,” I whispered. Shar’s boot hit my ankle. It hurt, but I forgot it as Jeremy’s smile lingered on me.
He looked relieved. “You guys are the best! I’m taking you both out to dinner this weekend.”
I watched him hurry back down the hall, enjoying the view. When he was out of earshot, Shar turned on me.
“Are you crazy? We can’t do a tour of Chinatown and go to the deli to get lunch, then come back here and then go to that clinic. And as for dinner, I don’t want to be seen until I look normal again, even if it’s at the most exclusive place in the city.”
I grabbed my coat and bag. “Who says we’re going to Chinatown?”
“You just did!”
“A certain someone won’t be here to need wheatgrass tea, or whatever these things are.” I waved the list at her. “We’ll save Jeremy a headache. You go to the deli so I don’t have to talk to anyone. Order whatever Reynaldo wants, and lots of veggies and low-fat foods for the models, and bring it back here, then meet me by the clinic. This doesn’t change our original plan. I’ll go there now and scope it out.” I grimaced. “I hope I can find the portal. We can’t lose any more time.”
Shar looked thoughtful as she buttoned her coat and wound a scarf around her nose and mouth. Between the two of us, we had enough raw material to make one large and very ugly bird. I shrugged off that depressing thought as we got onto an empty elevator.
“Okey doke.” Shar pulled on mittens. “I’ll meet you near the back door of the clinic in about an hour—but if I run into any problems, I’m bailing on getting the lunch. It’s not like the models will eat it anyway.”
“We’ll buy Reynaldo some make-up brownies later and tell the models they’re too fat for next season’s line.” I giggled, waved to her, then headed over to the subway.
The biting winter chill that had hung in the air for days had melted away into a nip-laced warmth. Was spring coming early? If so, Hades would be sans wife, and thus have time on his hands for more mischief.
I’d had a growing feeling lately that there was more to his dark desires than just snagging Arkady. His incessant pursuit of Shar disturbed me. Why would he interfere with the completion of his own deal? In our current situation, he’d win either way: either he got Arkady, or he got us—but was he angling for both? Shar had seemed a little quiet today and wasn’t saying anything about him. As for Demeter, it was becoming obvious what her motives were—if Hades was distracted with Shar, he might forget about Persephone, for a little while anyway. Demeter would probably get to keep her daughter for a bit longer. If that happened, maybe she thought she could adjust the bargain permanently and we’d start having longer
summers; global warming, à la goddess.
I looked at the subway map, trying to figure out which line to take. The Brightwater Clinic was at 8th and 65th. I thought I could take the R train over there, but I wasn’t sure.
“Excuse me,” said a voice next to me. “Do you know what train we can take to Ground Zero?”
“Sure,” I said, never taking my eyes off the map. “Take the N line over to Chambers Street, then cross over and walk down about two blocks.”
Twang!
I felt something prick my ankle and immediately looked at who was standing next to me.
Two tourists, a man and a woman. The woman, who had asked for the directions, turned to go. The man stayed rooted to the spot, smiling dumbly at me.
“Harold, let’s go now,” she said.
Why? WHY?! I didn’t speak to him!
“You told both of them where to go,” offered another voice. A tall, slender blond woman stepped out from behind Harold and smiled through black Wayfarers. Persephone. “You’d better release him,” she suggested.
“Ase me isihi.” Harold coughed, looked around, and then followed his wife, who was looking at me like I had a disease.
“You have to be careful about who’s within hearing distance,” Persephone said simply.
“What’s another feather,” I grumbled. I looked Persephone up and down. She looked like she was on a mission to win the “most animals killed to make an outfit” prize: leather jacket, leather pants, leather boots, leather bag, and was that a leather tank top underneath it all? As the goddess of fields, flowers, and animals, Demeter must not be pleased.
“Thanks for the tip,” I added, walking over to the subway’s automatic ticket machine. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be stuck down in Tartarus? With him? It’s not spring yet, and you’ve been up here two times!”
“I don’t care what anyone says, you’re sharp.” Persephone smiled coolly, pointing a long finger at me and giving a haughty toss of her hair. “But I’m a goddess, not a prisoner.”
“But the myth says …”
Sirenz Page 15
