by Zoe Forward
She stood at the front door and stared at the numeric front door lock for several long seconds while her mind tried to remember the code. Her birthday. It worked.
She faced him when he entered. “I’m taking a shower. Then I’ll make us something to eat. We can talk before we pop back to the regular world.”
“Showering alone?” Innuendo laced his tone.
Oh, God. He was putting it on the table. Be strong even though that small taste had been so good.
“Yes, alone. By myself. That, out there… I just wanted to get out of the water. It worked.”
“Mmhm.” His eyebrows slowly rose.
Her face heated. “I should apologize, but a girl’s got to do what she must when faced with someone like you. You can use the guest bathroom. I think it’s stocked with basics.” She pointed up the hall. “Look in the closet for some clothes. My father’s stuff will probably fit you.”
She’d have to pilfer through her mom’s drawers for fresh clothes. Her heart clenched. It hurt to think about her mom who’d first brought her here long ago. They’d talked about dimensional travel over a game of checkers. She hadn’t understood most of the discussion and barely paid attention. Her mom had tried several times over the years to discuss it more in depth, but Shannon thought if she allowed her mom to finish the discussion, to tell her everything about inter-dimensional travel and her future abilities, then it paved a path for her mother to die, which was an inconceivable possibility prior to two months ago.
What would her mom have done about Merck to get out of the water? She’d have probably kneed him in the balls and sent a huge wave to pull him away. Shannon should’ve thought of that.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She chanced meeting his gaze. The concern in his eyes startled her. She choked out, “Nothing. I need a shower and then I’ll make us some food.”
His eyes narrowed for an instant. He didn’t buy it. The tension of his jaw and swirling colors in his aura indicated he wanted to push her to get the truth. “I don’t eat seafood.”
“Wasn’t planning on cooking any.” Her eyes started an admiring scan down his naked chest. Stop it. No more appreciating how incredible he looked since he’d ditched his shirt.
She swallowed and realized he might be totally freaked out about being here, maybe even about the concept of alternate dimensions. “I’m sorry I can’t take you back to your dimension right now. I want to get home too, but…” She chewed on her lower lip. “I’m zapped and need some time to recharge. Please don’t be mad at me for bringing you here. I didn’t see another option.”
She pivoted fast and almost smacked into the wall in her haste to leave.
“I’m sorry about us being here, but we’re somewhere safe,” she shot over her shoulder without looking back.
***
Mad at her? No.
Stunned by this place? Yes.
His brain could barely wrap around the concept of multiple dimensions. That and the fact she could travel here at whim. Now that was a useful skill.
He glanced out the window into what looked like a perfect beach day. If she hadn’t brought them here, she’d be a snake girl after they scratched her, a state that wasn’t reversible, and he might be dead.
He was tempted to follow Shannon into the shower and make their trip to this bizarre alternate reality memorable. This time, kissing with clothing off.
His entire body grew hot.
He resisted going to her. Something had scared her out there on the water during their kiss. Whatever it was hadn’t been about him. Maybe it was because the kiss hadn’t gone the way she’d planned. She’d clearly initiated it to distract him. It’d worked. He respected the hell out of her for using whatever she could to escape. But their connection had burned so hot they’d both been lost to it.
Her kiss was no longer that of a virgin teenager. Today’s kiss had been that of a woman who’d sampled and knew how to enjoy sensual pleasure. The urge to hunt down and kill every other man who’d ushered her into advanced kissing surprised him. Their chemistry was real and unique, not something he’d experienced with another woman. No one could fake that kind of mind-boggling attraction.
Jesus, the gods had set a daunting test in front of him. How as he supposed to protect Shannon when he could barely keep his hands off her?
Although he hated being manipulated by gods, Bythos was right. He wasn’t ready to die. Battling evil filth might be exhausting, and as Shannon pointed out, a thankless task, but he worried what would happen when the black-magic deviants were left unchecked by his absence. That meant he’d keep his ass glued to Shannon’s and ensure her safety.
Chapter Eight
Shannon watched cinnamon buns cool on top of the stove. Her mom used to make sure all freezers remained stocked with a ready-to-bake pan. Thank goodness she’d found one in the freezer today and frozen frosting. Ingredients to bake the buns from scratch, which she could do, required grocery shopping and time. This wasn’t a vacation stop over. Fresh food would spoil if she left it. There was no guarantee she could get back here again to use the food or that she’d even be alive to return.
The heavenly smell of sugary cinnamon reminded her of hundreds of breakfasts with too much food, a lot of laughing, and family. There hadn’t been any family get-togethers since her mom died and no laughing. Without her mom everything was broken.
The responsibility to cook the buns now fell to her. She’d been so wrapped up in finding the Trident that she’d forgotten the importance of this, not just for herself, but also for everyone else. The druids needed her. Her father needed her. Her fellow Pleiades ladies needed her. They needed her to remain strong, bake buns, and save their lives.
Ask Merck to help.
Frosting the buns relaxed her. She wanted Merck to like the food. He deserved buns for risking his life for her and then healing her, even if his method involved almost drowning. The memory of him in action, fighting the snake creatures, amazed her. He’d been cool, relentless, and totally in charge, whereas she’d been a mess. She prided herself on her ability to deal with magical weirdness, but one ensorcelled snake and she’d lost it.
Give yourself a break. It was a monster snake that wanted to kill you.
She felt Merck’s presence before he entered. Her heart beat in her throat, leaving her breathless. The spatula fell to the floor. A few kisses, saving her life, and now she fell apart when he appeared too?
“Tea or coffee?” She recovered the spatula and faked busyness by cleaning droplets of frosting off the stove.
His gaze darted to the percolating coffeemaker. “Coffee works. Black.”
The kitchen shrank when he swung the door shut behind him as if circumventing any plans she had of making a break for it.
“I’m sorry I don’t have much to offer. I’ve got cinnamon buns, though.”
“That sounds nice, but Shannon…” Merck’s low voice sent chills down her spine.
“Yes?” She moved the cinnamon buns to the table and handed him his coffee.
“We need to talk.”
“You’re right.” She placed two plates on the table and served each of them a bun. Jittery, she took the seat across from him. You have no reason to be nervous. There were things to talk about. Big things. Yet, she wanted him to like the buns.
He sipped his coffee in silence, eyebrows raised. She fought not to squirm.
“What?” she finally said, pushing her still-damp hair away from her face. “Do I have frosting on my nose or something?”
A grin split his face. “Frosting? Were you sampling before you used it?”
“A good chef always tastes the food before serving. It’s good frosting.”
Her stomach flipped when he laughed, low and quiet. Humor fled his eyes. The somber man now evaluating her was an entirely different person than the one who’d just grinned.
She crossed her arms.
“Tell me what’s going on.” He didn’t ask. He demanded.
&nb
sp; “About what specifically?”
“Let’s start with what attacked us. You truly don’t know what they were?”
“No.”
“Ericthonians. They’re the minions of Athena. She sends them out whenever she wants something or she’s mad. Does she have a reason to be angry with you?”
“The goddess Athena?”
He nodded.
“You said those creatures could be after you, not me.”
“I had a run-in with Ericthonians a few years ago over an item I acquired. She hasn’t sent them after me since then. So, their appearance this time must be about you. Why’re you interesting to her and a lot of other magical shitheads? Are they after you to get the scrying glass?”
Great. Now Athena was after her too. “I hoped to use the scrying glass to find an item. Athena and the others might think I’ve got it already, but I don’t have it. I swear I don’t. I need it, though. The glass might’ve helped me find it, but I didn’t know it required killing someone. I wouldn’t have done that. Maybe I can find one that doesn’t require something evil to power it.”
“What does Athena think you have?”
“Poseidon’s Trident.”
“What?” He put both hands on the table and leaned forward, eyes wide. “Are you shitting me?”
“He thinks I stole it.”
“Poseidon...this is the water god we’re talking about? He threatened you?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have it?”
“I just said I didn’t.”
“Why would everyone think you do?”
“Everything about this is ridiculous.” She buried her face in her hands. “No, it’s worse than that. It’s fricking catastrophic.”
“And deadly. Athena’s minions will be back. There’s nothing she’d like better than to have the power of the water world. She’s not a goddess who likes to lose.” He leaned back. “Why don’t you start at the beginning. Explain what’s going on.”
Shannon released a frustrated breath. “A creature who works for Poseidon appeared to me a few weeks ago. He said if I don’t return the stolen Trident by next week, they’ll kill me, every other Pleiades descendant and wipe out all evidence of our bloodlines.”
Merck took a sip of coffee. He didn’t seem impressed by her revelation. “That’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting about everyone I know getting erased?”
“I’m not talking about your people dying. I’m pretty sure Poseidon doesn’t want to wipe out your bloodline. I refer to them thinking you have the Trident. No one can waltz into Poseidon’s underwater fortress and steal it. I’m not sure anyone other than Poseidon can touch it. Well, Zeus or Hades probably could, but it’s not as if either would care enough to get off their golden thrones to steal it. I think the Trident’s power can only be controlled by Poseidon or another very powerful god.”
“Like Athena?”
“Maybe. You’ve touched the Trident, though, and it didn’t kill you, but you’re not a god.”
“I just told you I’ve never seen it. That means I’ve never touched it. I don’t have it.”
“Its essence is…” He waved his hand her way. He stood and moved around the table to kneel by her, his hand hovering over her midsection. “I don’t understand how it’s possible, but Poseidon’s power feels as if it’s here somewhere.”
She flinched when he touched her stomach over the ugly scar. She pushed his hand away. “How would you know that?”
“Hard to explain, but it calls to me as I suspect it would other water creatures or powerful gods.”
“Are you a powerful god?”
“I’m not a god. Let me see.” He tugged up the edge of her T-shirt.
She yanked down the shirt before he saw anything, face flaming. “Please, don’t.”
“Why not? What’re you hiding?”
She released a shaky breath and exposed the magical scar, which although healed into a tangle of mutilated skin, still burned off and on.
“What did this?” He traced the edges of the scar, gently probing.
Heat flared through the scar as if someone poked her with a hot skewer. She gasped, grabbed his wrist and jerked it away from her.
“It burns?”
“Yes,” she choked out. “Don’t touch it. When people with magical powers touch it, it hurts more. Our healer tried to fix the scar, but he couldn’t.”
“What I did couldn’t heal this. Usually, I can heal almost anything.” He touched the side of his face over his scars.
“What did that to your face?” She put a finger on the scarred scratches, still not finding them at all a deterrent from his hard, dangerous appeal.
“It happened the first time I faced off against Ericthonians over that item Athena wanted. The thing scratched the shit out of me, and it turns out if I don’t get to the water in time, I scar.”
“Did you scar today?”
“No.”
“Good.” She cast him a small smile.
“Tell me how you got the thing on your stomach.” His hand hovered over the scar as if he could feel the heat, which simmered from the inside out as if revving up to a power burn again.
“Someone shoved a sword through me a few weeks ago.”
“A sword?” His hand hovered above the scar again. “Not many go for swords these days.”
She squirmed against the softness of his touch. “The blade must’ve been cursed or poisoned or something. Doctors said I should’ve died. It went through my liver and intestines, but I didn’t die.”
“The sword must’ve left something inside you when it went through. Something that prevented you from dying. Maybe a piece of the Trident or the whole thing. Did you steal the Trident or do something to miniaturize it and store it inside yourself?”
“I didn’t steal it. I’m not a sea creature who can hold her breath long enough to reach Poseidon’s home, brave whatever scary things guard it, and then tiptoe in, steal it, and get out. I have no powers to miniaturize.”
“You could get in and then do your dimension travel thing to get out. Or maybe even pop into Poseidon’s domain from here, this other dimension?” His eyebrows shot up.
“It doesn’t work like that. Even if it did, I suck at it. Look at today. I’m clearly not good at ending up where I want. It’s a miracle we ended up on this beach after that snowy place. Also, I didn’t have the ability to move between dimensions until after my mother died, which was after I’d been run through with a blade.”
“Why are you in South Carolina when you’re under some sort of gods’ ultimatum?”
“Mom told me to go to South Carolina right before she died. She said I’d find help there.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What exactly are you aside from a hunter of evil magic people? Whoever you’re descended from has water powers.” Gut instinct told her his water god ancestor was a direct relation, maybe a parent or grandparent.
He resumed his seat and crossed his arms.
She leaned forward. “Which Greek god do you come from? You owe me at least this much.”
“Poseidon.”
“That’s a weird coincidence.” Super jackpot? Maybe not, considering the gods liked to muck around in the lives of her and the other Pleiades ladies. This might be a complex game, and they were the pawns.
“Don’t look at me like I’ve got answers. I’ve never met him. I’ve never seen his Trident other than pictures, which are probably wrong since that’s human guesswork.”
“You’re related to Poseidon. Poseidon has me under an ultimatum. My mom sent me down here for some reason. Any thoughts?”
He shrugged.
“You can get answers, I’ll bet. You’re not as far removed from him as I am from my descendants, are you?”
His face closed down. “What do you want from me?”
“I have to find the Trident and give it back to him within the next week or—”
“You die, everyone you know dies. Scary death shit and end-of-wor
ld scenarios. Standard gods Armageddon crap. You said that before.” He shook his head. “I don’t have a clue how to find it.”
He grabbed the cinnamon bun off his plate and bit into it. His eyes drifted closed. “These are really good. Really, really good.”
“Thanks.” She grinned. Now to get him on her team to help. “Why did you come back this morning?”
He finished eating the bun and took a swig of coffee. “I don’t think I’ve had cinnamon buns as good as this. What happened leading up to when you got stabbed with a sword?”
“Good Lord, you’re annoying. Can’t you answer a single question?”
He snagged another cinnamon bun and bit into it. He stared at her in silent demand of an answer.
After a sip of orange juice, she said, “I’ll tell you the rest of the story if you tell me in what way Poseidon is related to you and your thoughts on the Poseidon coincidence.”
He continued chewing on a bun without commitment to the bargain.
“I signed on to a reality TV show as a cameraperson two months ago. It was last minute. I did it to help a friend, the one I called to get the right protective spell against zombies—”
“Zombies don’t exist. They were revenants or animated corpses.”
“Okay, revenants. Once on the TV show, there was a lot more going on than the nightmare of being in a South American rainforest for a few days. The guy who stabbed me was a producer named Rick Holloway. He—”
“What?” Merck’s entire body tensed. He sat upright. “Rick?”
“You know him?”
“My mom dated him for a while. It’s why she moved to California when I went off to college. He’s a real asshole and also of Greek gods descent.”
“I know. He’s dead.”
“How’d Rick die?”
“He stabbed me and then to make sure he finished the job planned to shoot me, but my mother stepped in the way and took the bullet. Before she died she killed him.”
“Are you sure he’s dead?”
“He was smashed by a boulder. Pretty sure. Rick descended from Orion. Apparently, his family is obsessed with killing all of us Pleiades.”
“Reality TV…I assume you mean Extreme Survivor. Was Owen Campbell hosting the show?”
