by Tina Folsom
“I see we both agree that we’re not a good match,” the doctor went on.
Gabriel knew he had to act now before the doctor dismissed him completely. When Drake moved to the rolodex on his desk, Gabriel rose from his chair.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary –”
“Well, then, it was a pleasure meeting you.” The doctor stretched his hand out, his relaxed face now showing relief.
With a light shake of his head, Gabriel dismissed the gesture. “I doubt the rolodex contains the name of the person I’m looking for anyway. Am I right?” He kept all malice out of his voice, having no intention of alienating the man. Instead, he let a half-smile curve his lips.
A flash in Drake’s blue eyes confirmed he knew exactly who Gabriel was talking about. It was time to bring in the big guns. “I’m a very rich man. I can pay whatever you wish,” Gabriel offered. In his nearly one hundred and fifty years as a vampire, he’d amassed a fortune.
The doc’s cocked eyebrow indicated interest. There was a hesitation in Drake’s movement, but seconds later he pointed to the chairs. They both sat back down.
“What makes you think I’m interested in your offer?”
“If you weren’t, we wouldn’t be sitting.”
The doctor nodded. “Your friend Amaury speaks very highly of you. I trust he’s well now.”
If Drake wanted to chit-chat, Gabriel would indulge him, but not for long. “Yes, the curse is broken. I understand that one of your acquaintances was instrumental in figuring out how the curse could be reversed.”
“Maybe. But understanding how to fix something and fixing it are two different things. And as I see it, Amaury and Nina reversed his curse all by themselves. No outside help was needed.”
“Unlike in my case?”
The doctor shrugged his shoulders, a gesture Gabriel was getting increasingly tired of. “I don’t know. There might be a perfectly plausible explanation for your ailment.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Let’s cut to the chase, Drake. It’s not an ailment. What plausible explanation am I going to give a woman who sees me naked?”
“Mr. Giles –”
“At least call me Gabriel. I think we’re past the Mr. Giles stage.”
“Gabriel, I understand your predicament.”
Gabriel felt heat rise inside his chest as anger churned up, something that was becoming more common as he dealt with his predicament. “Do you? Do you really understand what it feels like to see the disgust and fear in the eyes of a woman you want to make love to?” Gabriel swallowed hard. He’d never made love to a woman, never truly made love. Sex with prostitutes wasn’t love. Sure, he could use mind control like the doctor had suggested and lure some unsuspecting woman into his bed and do with her whatever he wanted, but he’d vowed never to sink that low. And he’d never broken that vow.
“You mentioned payment,” he heard Drake say.
Finally, there was light at the end of the tunnel. “Name your price and I will wire the money into your account within hours.”
Drake shook his head. “I’m not interested in money. I understand you have a gift.”
Gabriel straightened in his chair. How much did the doctor know about him? He knew Amaury would have never revealed any of his secrets. “I’m not sure I understand – ”
“Gabriel, don’t take me for a fool. Just as you must have made your inquires about me, I have looked into your background. I understand you are able to unlock memories. Would you care to explain your gift to me?”
Not particularly. But it appeared he had no choice. “I see into people’s minds and can delve into their memories. I see what they’ve seen.”
“Does this mean you can look into my memories and find the person you’re looking for?” Drake asked.
“I only see events and pictures. So unless I find a memory that shows her at her house or other such criteria, I wouldn’t be able to find her. I don’t read minds, only memories.”
“I see.” The doctor paused. “I’m willing to give you the whereabouts of the person you’re looking for in exchange for the one time use of your gift.”
“You want me to delve into your memories and find something you’ve forgotten?” Sure, he could do that.
Drake chuckled. “Of course not. I have perfect recall. I want you to unlock another person’s memories for me.”
Hope deflated. His skill was only to be used in emergencies or when someone’s life was at stake. He wouldn’t rape someone’s memories for his own gain, no matter how important this was for him. “I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. You just told me –”
“What I meant to say is I won’t do it. Memories are private. I will not access a person’s memories without their permission.” And he was sure the person whose memories the doctor wanted revealed to him wasn’t going to give their consent.
“A man with high ethics. What a pity.”
Gabriel glanced around the room. “With the money I’m willing to pay you, you could redecorate quite lavishly.” And get rid of the coffin couch.
“I like the way my practice looks. Don’t you?” Drake gave the offensive couch a pointed look.
Gabriel knew then that the negotiations were at an end. The doctor wouldn’t budge, and neither would he.
END OF EXCERPT
Excerpt of A Touch of Greek (Out of Olympus #1)
CHAPTER ONE
What would the punishment be this time? A year in Hades for giving it to Zeus’ mistress du-jour? Seemed like a fair exchange, Triton thought. It could be worse. He could be bridled from any sexual activities for a decade – which would suck to say the least. Anything, just not that! He’d never survive it. Not sating his sexual urges for a week bordered on excruciating, a decade would be pure torture.
At least in Hades he could screw some desperate souls, and the year would pass by in delicious debauchery. He could deal with the heat and the stench, and surely, Father’s other brother, Hades, wouldn’t make the stay too uncomfortable for him. As long as he kept his hands off Hades’ wife. Now there was a beauty, if there ever was one.
Despite his thoughts, Triton kept his head down and his eyes averted, not willing to piss the King of Gods off any further. He cringed convincingly as Zeus lifted his arm and sent another thunderbolt across the blue sky. A sound as loud as a thousand horses’ hooves cracked through the white clouds that hung over Olympus. For sure, his uncle gave an impressive show right there on the terrace of his home overlooking the mortal world of Greece.
Better to play the repentant servant to Zeus. There was no way he was getting out of this mess unscathed. Not even his father Poseidon could help him right now – not that Triton wanted to ask the old man for help. All he’d get would be a lecture.
Besides, in his current state Uncle Zeus wouldn’t listen to anyone, least of all his brother.
Whatever punishment Triton was due, however, would be worth it. By the Gods, how Danae’s pale thighs had wrapped around him when he’d pumped into her. Her pink nipples had been erect little peaks topping voluptuous breasts that had bounced up and down, side to side with every thrust he’d delivered. Oh Gods, he’d delivered it to her – several times. She’d screamed her pleasure to the heavens and professed he was a better lover than Zeus, and by the Gods, he’d lapped that compliment up the same way he’d gobbled up the cream that had oozed from her quivering pussy.
She’d milked him so many times, he’d collapsed in her arms, unable to move another limb. And that was exactly how Zeus had found him: in her bed, bare-assed, and with his dick still inside her. Talk about in flagrante. He wasn’t going to smooth-talk himself out of that one.
Triton took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the sweet scent of ambrosia that drifted his way from just inside the palace. He eyed the spectators who had gathered around them. It hadn’t taken long for them to assemble – one word to the right person and the news had spread like wildfire. Zeus liked an audience as much as the next G
od, especially when he was ready to hand out punishment.
“Did you hear me?” Zeus’ voice boomed through the warm air, hitting him like a tornado sweeping over the sea. Unlike any storm over the world’s oceans, this was one Triton couldn’t calm, not even with his powers as the God of Seafarers and Sailors.
Triton lifted his head to meet his uncle’s glare, but was careful not to show his defiance. “Of course, Zeus.”
“Then choose.”
Zeus looked nothing like the mortals depicted him in their books and paintings. He was no old man with a white beard. No, the God of all Gods was a virile man looking no older than thirty-five in mortal years, with a chiseled face as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David and as hard as the granite the famous artist had used. Unfortunately, Triton mused. It made competition for some decent pussy on Olympus darn stiff. Only around women would Zeus turn on his charm and melt any female right into his perfect body – or under, which was the preferred position for any woman when around the God.
Again a blast of air came Triton’s way, threatening to uproot his balance.
Choose? What did Zeus want him to choose between?
He would have done well to listen this once, but his uncle’s tirades could go on for hours, and what was the point of taking any notice when he couldn’t change the outcome anyway? However, this time a sinking feeling spread in his stomach as if he was about to gamble away his life.
“Uh, I, …” he stammered.
An angry grunt was Zeus’ reply. “Option one or two. I’m leaving you a choice, but only because my brother has bartered for leniency toward you. Personally, I would crush you with my bare hands. Frankly, boy, I’ve had it with you. Would you like me to remind you of all the things you’ve done?”
Triton’s memory was working just fine. He sure needed no reminder, but he knew better than to anger Zeus while his punishment still hung in the balance.
“Ares’ house still stinks to this day after you dumped a barrel of fish into his atrium and let it rot there.”
Triton remembered all too well. Served the bastard right though – it had been payback for Ares destroying any chances he might have had with the Goddess Phoebe by spreading vicious (and of course entirely untrue) rumors about Triton’s sexual prowess – or lack thereof. Any God worth his salt would have reacted the same way.
“Not to even speak of how you seduced the Nymph Metope the night before her wedding. Is nothing sacred to you?”
Well, the dainty creature had asked for it – she’d virtually begged him to take her.
Dear God, please show me how to make my husband happy, she’d prayed. So Triton had taken it upon himself to show her a thing or two. Well, maybe three.
“Now choose before I change my mind!”
Triton glanced around the crowd, trying to find any familiar faces amongst it. Somebody had to help him out. He couldn’t very well ask Zeus to repeat the two choices. If he knew that Triton had been daydreaming while he’d let out his tirade, there’d be more-than-hell to pay and all choices would be taken away.
No, whatever he chose now would ultimately be better than what Zeus would hand down if angered even further.
Triton spotted Eros and Hermes, two of his best friends, in the crowd. Maybe they would help him make a decision without Zeus noticing.
As always, Eros’ tunic was slung low across his muscled chest, the material flowing elegantly down to his knees, covering his strong thighs. His bow and quiver hung over his shoulder. He never went anywhere without it. He stood over six feet tall, his dark brown hair cropped short. His friend Hermes, equally tall and strong and as usual wearing his winged sandals that could take him anywhere, stood next to him. He was a crafty fellow and could be relied upon to help him out of a dilemma.
With a barely perceivable move of his head, Triton motioned to his two friends. Both moved their hands in front of their bodies, displaying a number of digits.
From his fist, Eros let one finger emerge. Perfect, his friend had understood him. Triton’s gaze rolled to Hermes’ hand. Two fingers stretched out from his friend’s fist.
By the Gods! Those two weren’t in agreement?
What now?
Should he go with Eros, the one who’d never tried to shoot him with one of his arrows even though he deserved it? Not that they worked on a God, but they stung like Hades for a week. Or should he trust Hermes, who’d always had his back when it counted but occasionally played some nasty pranks on him?
Which one of his friends had his best interest in mind? Eros or Hermes?
Another thunderbolt indicated Zeus’ impatience and told Triton his time was up.
“One. I’m taking option one.”
Triton caught Eros’ wicked smile and Hermes’ disappointed stare before Zeus thundered on, “Very well, then. So you think you’re up for the challenge?”
Triton swallowed the rising lump in his throat. “Challenge?”
Instinctively Triton pushed his shoulders back to get ready for battle. He took an extra deep breath of oxygen, re-energizing his body. If there was a challenge to be met, he was ready. How hard could it be?
“Frankly, I thought you would have chosen Hades instead.”
Oh, fuck. He could have had fun in the Underworld. No wonder Hermes had suggested that option. The two of them could have hung out, since Hermes knew the river Styx and the path to the Underworld. Every time Hermes escorted another soul into Hades, they could have visited and had fun. Damn, why hadn’t he listened to him?
Triton glanced at Eros and mouthed what the fuck? only to get a lopsided grin as a response.
What for Olympus’ sake had he chosen instead? A sense of foreboding struck him out of nowhere. With bated breath, he looked at Zeus, avoiding his eyes and instead staring at his mouth. There was a pause which felt like an eternity before Zeus finally continued.
“It is decreed then. Triton, you shall be cast out into the human world and only come back when you have found a mortal woman who loves you not for your beauty but your kindness and selflessness.”
Zeus’ laugh echoed against the palace, then rolled down the hills into Greece. In his shock, Triton barely heard what the mortals would perceive as thunder. He couldn’t be hearing right. The mortal world? And under those conditions? Had Zeus gone off his rocker?
“That should keep the bugger busy for the next century,” he heard a spectator whisper.
“Like any woman will ever see past his looks – not a chance in Hades,” another replied and laughed.
Didn’t he know it? Triton was graced with his mother’s beauty: blond hair, blue eyes, and a classical nose. Coupled with a perfect body, there wasn’t anything Triton could physically improve upon. There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t get a come hither look from a woman – Goddess or mortal. Or scornful looks from Gods or men who saw him as clear competition for the affections of their women. But it appeared that his good looks could become a hindrance in his quest to return home.
Triton tossed Eros a pissed off look. Why on earth had his friend – make that ex-friend – given him such bad advice? Eros’ smug smile said it all – he had a secret agenda. He’d wring the Love God’s neck as soon as Zeus was gone, and then afterwards, he’d find out Eros’ motives.
Hurt him first, ask questions later.
“You will also be stripped of all your godly powers while you reside on earth,” Zeus continued. “Any God helping you with your challenge will be punished.”
The big God let his gaze sweep over the crowd, lingering more than a few seconds on Eros and Hermes.
“This also goes for any Gods not assembled here today.”
Well, that took care of Dionysus then. The quartet was practically inseparable. But while he wasn’t present at Triton’s sentencing – and most likely out carousing somewhere in the human world – Dionysus would surely come to his aid if need be.
On Olympus friendship meant more than kin – considering that with all the inbreeding going on, p
ractically everybody was related anyway.
Both Hermes and Dionysus were his cousins, while Eros was a cousin twice removed (and if Triton could help it – completely removed after the stunt he’d just pulled, giving him such disastrous council).
“In addition,” Zeus droned on.
Was the old God still not done? What else could he add that would make this any worse than it already was?
“… any God found interfering with Triton’s efforts to secure the love of a mortal through his kindness and selflessness, shall be …” Zeus made a dramatic pause. In the silence that followed, one could have heard the tear of a virgin drop to the ground – not that there were any virgins left on Olympus thanks to the unquenchable libido of Zeus himself.
“… rewarded.”
Cheers greeted the free-for-all-let’s-screw-Triton-over announcement. His uncle was one sick bastard. Many of the Olympians were assembled, all wearing their long flowing tunics, some in white, some in more cheerful colors. Most faces looking back at Triton were familiar.
He spotted Artemis who was decked out in her hunting gear, soft leather boots caressing her long muscular legs. Triton caught her eye and winked at her. When he was back after his sentence, he’d make a play for her. It would be fun, especially since he knew his annoying half-brother Orion coveted her too. Now that would be a worthy challenge: which brother would bed her first.
Now that Triton had received his punishment, he reconsidered his assessment of Danae, Zeus’ current mistress. Looking back, she hadn’t been such a great lay after all. At least she wasn’t worth the kind of harsh revenge Zeus had taken on him. All she’d done was lie there with her legs spread. She hadn’t even sucked his shaft. He was in the right mind to go back there and make her suck him off so at least the punishment would fit the crime.
But of course, that wasn’t possible. Zeus would make sure he wasn’t going anywhere but down the mountain into mortal Greece. And he would keep a tight leash on his mistress from now on – that was, until he lost interest and moved onto somebody else. Which would probably happen even before Triton returned from Earth.
