Aphrodite's Kiss

by Julie Kenner

  Mordichai launched himself toward her, and they went tumbling to the ground. She twisted, trying to get out of his grasp. He was stronger than she, and Zoë struggled against his grip until, finally, she managed to spring away.

  Taylor caught her, his arms strong and sure.

  “Look out!” he yelled, and she whipped around, stopping Mordi’s rush with an outthrust leg and shoving him back against the obelisk in front of the observatory.

  Taylor rushed forward and landed a solid punch in Mordi’s gut. Mordichai doubled over, but not before managing to shoot a couple of particularly nasty bursts of energy Taylor’s way.

  “Duck!” Zoë cried.

  Taylor threw himself to the side, and Mordi’s blasts scorched the grass instead of Taylor. “Don’t you dare give this up because of me,” he yelled as he climbed back to his feet.

  A lump rose in her throat as she leaped backward to escape Mordi’s lunge. Dammit. She didn’t want to deal with her cousin, or stones, or legends. Here was the man she loved, and she needed to think. With a renewed burst of energy, she caught Mordi by the throat and held him firm against the obelisk as she turned to Taylor. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I love you, Zoë,” he said, tearing her Intent to Select Moralization form into tiny pieces. “You. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, when you were so worried about how I’d react.”

  Could he really love her? Did he really?

  “Excuse me,” Mordi croaked. “This is all very heartwarming, but my father’s waiting for results and I need to kick a little ass.” He struggled under her grip, but Zoë’s arm felt like iron.

  “Zoë . . . don’t give up on me because I was an idiot,” Taylor shouted. “Let me love you. Hell, let me help you.”

  She watched as the little pieces of her mortalization form sparked and sputtered, disintegrating before her very eyes. He really did love her. She wasn’t ever going to be June Cleaver normal, but he loved her anyway. It was there in his eyes, and she wanted so much to jump into his arms, to cry out for joy. Everything she’d ever wanted, right here, laid in front of her like candy. Love, a family, her heritage.

  And it could all fizzle away in just a few minutes, because there was still the little matter of Mordichai, who, at that very moment, had raised his head and was aiming a burst of pure energy right at her—

  “No!” she cried as she was thrown clear.

  Zing! With no warning, Taylor threw his body in the way, then was hurled by Mordi’s blast into the wall of fire. Plastered against him, the living flames licked his body.

  “Taylor!”

  “I’m all right,” he shouted, sounding surprised.

  “For now,” said Mordi. Rubbing his throat, he circled around Zoë until he was just below Taylor. Casually he looked up. “Apropos, don’t you think? Once the ceremony is complete—once I win—those flames will consume him.” He smiled. “Surely that will put me in good stead with my father.”

  “You’re too late,” she said, steeling herself, and hoping against hope she could hold out for the last few moments. “It’s over. I’ve got the stone.”

  He merely smiled as a shiver rippled down her spine. Her hand opened, her fingers utterly ignoring her brain’s desperate plea to close. The stone hovered for a moment, then zipped through the air to land with a soft thud in Mordi’s black-gloved hand.

  “And now you don’t,” he said.

  She closed her eyes and sank to the ground. Over. It was all over, and she and Taylor hadn’t even had a chance.

  Tilting her head back to look him in the eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t you dare give up,” Taylor screamed, lashing out against the fingers of fire binding him.

  Above them, the sliver of the moon faded to blackness. Zoë stared at Taylor with sorrow in her eyes.

  “It’s not over,” he yelled. “You can beat him.” He pounded his fist against the wall of flame. “Do something; do anything. Shoot him with your superstare, kick him in the gut, levitate something and throw it at him. Anything!”

  The stone in Mordichai’s hand started to glow as the darkness over the moon deepened.

  “Ah,” said Mordichai, “but my cousin has never quite mastered that. Have you, Zoë dear?”

  She met his gaze, wheels turning in her head.

  “Mastered? No.” But she could manage—in a pinch, when it mattered.

  Her eyes darted to Taylor. Oh, sweet Hera. It mattered now. But she needed help. She couldn’t do it alone. Not and be sure. And time was running out. . . .

  She met Taylor’s gaze, silently imploring, and hoping beyond hope that what she saw in those deep brown eyes was more than just love—that it was understanding, too.

  The stone glowed brighter. The circle of flame danced and leaped behind Mordi, the fire thinning with the fading moonlight. She drew a single deep breath, readying herself.

  The stone burned, radiant with inner fire.

  She focused, remembering little Patty in the library, the cafeteria, Davy . . . remembering Taylor, always Taylor. His touch. The way his kisses had her floating on air.

  And when she felt it all—the emotion, the need, the desire, the love—well up inside her, that was when she looked at Mordi. With all her strength, she caught him in her gaze and concentrated like she’d never concentrated before.

  “I can, Mordi. When it matters, I can levitate anything.”

  “Way to go sweetheart,” said Taylor.

  Mordi must have heard Taylor’s voice right behind him—an unusual fact, considering Mordi had pinned him to the wall of flame a good five feet above the ground—because he tried to twist around, stumbling a bit when he realized his feet were no longer connected with anything solid. As Zoë fought a victorious grin, Taylor yanked his foot back and let loose with a kick that would have made an angry mule proud. His foot struck pay dirt, slamming into Mordi’s arm and sending the stone flying out into the night.

  Zoë exhaled, and Mordi fell to the ground. Immediately he started crawling around on his hands and knees, searching for the lost gem.

  The circle of flame vanished, and suddenly Taylor was right there, sprawled at Zoë’s feet, battered and bruised from fighting the flames. She threw her arms around him and held him close as he rocked her back and forth.

  She had no idea where the stone had landed, but it didn’t matter. A sliver of moon peeked out from behind the shadow.

  It was over.

  She’d won.

  She smiled at Taylor, cradling him in her arms. He squeezed her hand and smiled back.

  No, she amended. They’d won.

  From across the circle, Hale saw Mordi look furtively around, then stoop down and pick something up.

  Please, Zeus, no. Not again. Not this soon. If Mordi had the stone . . .

  It might be over for now, but what about tomorrow? The next eclipse? Some other ancient prophecy? Zephron had said the stone had many mysterious properties, and Hale had seen more than enough of them.

  Was he supposed to stop Mordi now? Was the testing, the legend, through?

  He shivered. He’d had his quota of legends, and somewhere out there was a Greek beach with his name on it. If only fate would cut him a break.

  Mordichai’s eyes glowed in the returning moonlight as he moved toward him. Hale stood ready, tense. He’d fight if he had to. He certainly wasn’t going to let Mordi destroy Zoë’s victory.

  Mordi stopped right in front of Hale, his eyes sad and deep as the ocean. He seemed broken by his defeat. “She was right. It was never about the power, never about the council. Not for me. All I ever wanted was for my dad to believe in me.” He looked behind him toward Zoë, who was helping Taylor to his feet. “That mortal, he didn’t even understand what was at stake, and yet he risked everything for her. I didn’t expect that.”

  “Neither did I,” admitted Hale warily. As soon as Mordi turned to walk away, Hale would jump him and get that stone.

  Mordi nodded, then held o
ut his hand to shake. “Your sister fought the good fight.”

  For a second Hale hesitated, smelling a trick. Then he nodded curtly and pressed his hand against his cousin’s. As Mordi pulled his hand away, Hale felt something cold against his skin. He looked down, his eyes widening as he saw the green stone that had been pressed into his palm.

  “If my father ever finds out I gave this to you, I’ll hunt you down and kill you. He’d probably find some use for it, even now.”

  Hale nodded, speechless, as he watched the stone glow and shimmer in his hand. When he looked up, he saw a real smile begin in Mordi’s eyes for the first time in years. “Good to see you again, too, cousin,” Hale said.

  With a curt nod, Mordichai faded back into the shadows, then was gone with the night.

  Zoë came over, a battered Taylor right beside her.

  “So how’s our hero doing?” Hale asked.

  She kissed the mortal, and Hale didn’t even flinch. Amazing.

  “He’s doing great,” she said.

  “Need a hand with him?”

  “Him can do fine on his own,” Taylor said, taking an unsteady step forward.

  Hale rolled his eyes. “Mortals. They’re a damn stubborn lot.”

  Zoë smiled and kissed Taylor on the cheek, her eyes brimming with love. “Yes, they are. A very stubborn lot.”

  “You’re okay with this?” Zoë asked Hale as her gaze drifted to Taylor, who was propped up against the obelisk nursing his leg. A few yards away, Deena and Hoop snuggled in the grass, Elmer curled up between them.

  “Mortals, mortals, everywhere,” Hale mumbled, looking in the same direction.

  “Hale . . .” She put her hands on her hips. “Well? Are you?”

  He turned to face her, his face serious. “Would it matter if I wasn’t?”

  For half a second, she hesitated, not wanting to irritate her brother. But the truth won out. “No.”

  “Then I guess I’m okay with it,” he said. His voice was stern, but the way the corner of his mouth twitched told her he’d come around soon enough—if he hadn’t already.

  “Besides,” he added, “I’m pretty much outnumbered.” He nodded toward the parking lot, where Donis and Tessa were perched on Francis Capra, deep in conversation.

  “They look really good together,” she said, her heart swelling at the sight of her mom and dad together for the first time in her entire life. “They’ve both waited a long time. This is kind of weird.”

  Hale took her hand and they started walking toward Taylor. “You really love him?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Well,” he said grudgingly, “he seems okay. For a mortal, I mean.”

  From Hale, that was high praise indeed. “Thanks, Halester. I think so.”

  Zephron stepped out of a shadow, seeming to materialize from the darkness. “You did well, young Zoë.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed, remembering everything she’d done wrong, all the skills she still didn’t have down. “I . . . I never quite—”

  “Your admission packet will be at your apartment tomorrow,” he said. “You may bring your mortal to the swearing-in ceremony if you like.”

  Her pulse jumped. “Really?” She looked from Hale to Zephron. “I’m in?”

  His weathered face remained stern, but his eyes were warm and grandfatherly. “You’re in.”

  Hale caught her in a tight hug and swung her around. “I knew you could do it!”

  “What about Mordi?” she asked, a little breathlessly, as soon as Hale put her down.

  “Your cousin is in a somewhat different position,” Zephron said. “But he did pass his test—he didn’t succumb to his father’s demands.” He held up the stone, and its facets reflected the silvery light of the moon. “Mordichai will be admitted to the council should he request it, but his admission is probationary. I fear he has a few more hurdles to face before he becomes a full member.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” Hale said. “After all the grief he put Zoë through.”

  Zoë nodded absently. He had put her through a lot over the last few days, but in the end, he’d done the right thing. And she hoped he passed the rest of his tests, whatever they might be.

  “What about Uncle Hieronymous?”

  “Ah, yes. He is already an Outcast, you see. And to be honest, he has done nothing we did not expect—or want—him to do. But I assure you that we are watching him. If he seeks to interfere again, we shall surely intercede.” Zephron patted her hand. “But your ordeal is over. And your mortal is waiting for you.”

  Impulsively, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Zephron’s cheek as Hale gawked. She wasn’t too surprised. It wasn’t exactly proper protocol to kiss the high elder. But if the flush on the elder’s cheeks was any indication, he didn’t mind too much.

  “Halflings,” she heard Hale mutter as she raced away.

  “Hey, babe,” Taylor said as she ran to him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  “I was thinking that maybe next week we could just stay home with a video.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Something tame. Like Die Hard.”

  “It’s a date.” She knelt in front of him and ran her fingers through his hair. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Anytime,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

  “I don’t need any more rescuing. Not tonight. But I was wondering if . . . well, if you’d like to come home with me.”

  “Sweetheart, I can’t think of anything I’d like more.” He pulled himself to his feet, grimacing as his hurt leg took his weight. “I’ve just got one question.”

  Zoë nodded, a tiny bit of dread welling in her. “What’s that?”

  His furrowed brow accentuated its sexy scar, and he winced as he took a careful step toward her. “I don’t suppose you could fly us there?”

  She laughed and moved closer, hooking her arm around his waist to steady him. “Darling Taylor, if you want, I’ll even fly us to the moon.”

  “We don’t need to go quite that far. Just someplace quiet.” He leaned closer, brushing his lips against her ear. “Someplace with a bed.”

  Tilting her head back, she looked into his eyes, which were dark and deep with passion. Her body hummed with anticipation, tiny shock waves rippling through her. “Yeah,” she said, a trifle breathlessly, “I think that can be arranged.”

  Epilogue

  “It’ll all fit, but the letters will be tiny.” Deena squinted at the newly turpentined door, her paintbrush poised.

  Zoë considered the frosted glass, trying to picture how their stenciled names would look.

  “Well, we need to get it all on there,” Hoop said. “Zoë’s been working here for the last two months, and her name’s still not on the door.”

  Taylor looped an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned against him, turning her face up to receive a quick kiss on the nose.

  “She’s been doing a damn good job of it, too. For us and for the council.”

  “I like this undercover assignment,” she said honestly. “Being a librarian was fine, but being a private investigator’s much better.” She smiled up at Taylor. “And being your partner’s the best of all.”

  “Hey!” said Hoop.

  Zoë smiled. “Your partner, too.” The three of them had joined forces, and Hooper, Taylor, & Smith, Investigators, had been doing reasonably well. Certainly Taylor wasn’t surviving on peanut butter, any more than Zoë was living on rice cakes.

  “That’s better,” Hoop said. His stomach growled.

  Deena rolled her eyes. “He must have run out of Twinkies. Got any of those PTA candy bars left?”

  Zoë shook her head. “I finished the last one off last week during a stakeout.”

  “I’m impressed how well you’re handling chocolate,” Taylor said. He flashed a smile that warmed her straight to her toes. “Then again, I’m impressed how well you’re handling a lot of things.”r />
  Long nights—and some equally long days—snuggled up with Taylor drifted through her memory. “Yeah, well, practice makes perfect.” Not that she was completely used to her senses yet, but she was getting closer. She frowned, thinking back to her birthday. “I’m still amazed the council admitted me.”

  “Why?” Deena asked. “You kicked butt. You pretty much saved the world, right?”

  “Well, yeah. But I had help,” she said, smiling at Taylor.

  “Maybe that was the point,” he said. “Sometimes you have to ask for help.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah,” he said firmly. “That’s right.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But it doesn’t have anything to do with our immediate problem,” he said, nodding meaningfully at the door.

  “Right,” Zoë said.

  “Right,” Hoop echoed.

  Deena tapped her foot. “Well, what do you want me to paint on this door?”

  Taylor tapped his index finger against his chin. “I think it’s too long.”

  “I know it is,” Deena said. “That’s why I need to use smaller letters.”

  “I don’t like the smaller letters,” Taylor said, casting a look Hoop’s way.

  “Me, either,” Hoop said.

  Zoë caught Deena’s eye. “Men.”

  “I do have one suggestion,” Taylor said.

  Deena sighed, clearly exasperated. “Well spit it out.”

  “Hooper and Taylor Investigators, fits just fine.”

  “Absolutely,” Hoop said. “Nice and classy-looking.”

  “But—” Zoë protested.

  “What about her?” Deena finished. “She’s a partner, too. You can’t just—”

  “I thought maybe you’d be interested in expanding our partnership,” Taylor said, his eyes locked on Zoë’s.

  “Our partnership?” Zoë repeated stupidly. Her pulse picked up tempo. She tried to calm herself, afraid she was hearing something he wasn’t saying. “I’m not . . . I don’t know. . . .”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Deena asked, one hand resting on her hip.

  “I’m trying to propose here.”

  “Oh,” said Deena. “Well, then. Get on with it.”

  “Maybe a little privacy?” he asked, looking meaningfully toward the far end of the hall.