by Lia Davis
So Drakon did have it. “Where did you get the dagger?”
Drakon chucked. “Stole it. From the God Queen, herself. Right after Helena stabbed Hera, turning her mortal.”
“When?” Fear crawled up Jordan’s spine. Had they possessed the dagger all along?
Helena laughed. “Before I got here. I knew the bitch couldn’t resist Zeus’s call for help. So, I waited for her to show. Then surprised her.”
Jordan had to come up with a plan to stop crazy and crazier from killing both her and Zeus. So she kept her talking. “How did you know she had the dagger?”
“Stupid, girl. Hera doesn’t trust anyone. She keeps…kept, the dagger on her person at all times.” Helena held the dagger up and admired the handle and blade. “Now it’s the King’s turn.”
Jordan flicked her gaze and met Zeus’s stare. A mixture of sadness and anger swirled in his blue depths. Then it dawned on Jordan. She was a goddess of fate. “No, Helena, you will not kill Zeus today. Or ever.”
The words were spoken with a magical intent and her heart. She couldn’t live knowing she could do something to save him.
“Hand over the stone, and your God King lives.” Drakon growled and laughed at the same time.
Jordan shuddered at the evil sound. She wrapped her fingers around the stone. Again with the stone. If she handed it over, Drakon could kill him anyway. And she wasn’t the gambling type.
Her dragon growled inside her mind. She wanted out to protect what was theirs.
12
Slowly, Jordan removed the stone from around her neck. Since her dragon woke up, she could focus on her own power as well as the power within the stone.
The essence of dark and light magic swirled and twined inside the moonstone. Jordan sensed the souls of the harpy elders. It was as if they were trying to tell her something.
Holding the stone up, she stared into the milky-colored stone that glowed with an inner light. A ghostly face appeared, then whispers surrounded her.
“Release us. Break the curse.”
Jordan frowned, then glanced at Drakon. A distraction. She needed to get the dagger away from him. “Don’t kill him. Please. I’ll give you the stone.”
She stretched out her hand and saw the ghostly face smile as she did. What were the harpies planning? They lashed out at Drakon earlier. Would they do it again?
“A life for a thousand. That is the only way to break the curse.”
What did that mean?
“Trust us.”
Trust a harpy? Did Jordan have any other option? Of course her dragon was powerful and ready to be set free, but Jordan didn’t know anything about shifting or how to control that part of her.
Fear and dread that she would fail and lose her love just like she lost her mom, made her hesitate.
“Hand it over.” Drakon’s tone thundered around them.
She jumped and glanced at the stone. Here goes nothing. “I release you. One soul for many.”
Drakon jumped up from where he hovered over Zeus and charged toward her. He grabbed the stone, wrapping his large hand around it. Then he roared.
His power charged and grew. Jordan’s heart hammered and her gut burned. She said it wrong. Or used the wrong words. What had she done?
Zeus stumbled to his feet and tackled her to the ground a split moment before Drakon shifted and took flight.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Shh and watch.” Zeus kissed her forehead and held her tight.
“I don’t understand. He’s got the stone. I meant to release the harpies.”
“You did, and they are playing with him. Letting him believe he has the stone.” Zeus helped her up and led her to the rock wall.
When they reached the wall, Drakon screamed out. Jordan glanced up to see the dark ghostly figures of the harpies shooting out of the stone and swirling around the dragon.
The harpies were attacking by biting him and clawing him, and a bunch of them ripped one wing off the dragon. Jordan squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into Zeus’s black T-shirt. She had no idea harpies were that strong.
Zeus hugged her then turned so his back faced the gruesome scene.
A boom sounded, and the ground shook, making Jordan fist his shirt in her hands. Then everything but the sound of the ocean stopped.
Lifting her head, Jordan glanced around Zeus. Drakon laid on the sand, naked from shifting to human and not using magic to will clothes on. He was so still. Jordan knew he was dead.
The harpies landed in groups on the beach. They were solid and alive. No longer ghostly spirits. One of them bent down and yanked the pendant off Drakon, then took the dagger from the sheath on his belt.
When they walked toward them, Zeus moved to stand in front of Jordan. The harpy with the stone and the dagger stepped forward and handed the dagger to Zeus, then the stone to Jordan. “Thank you for breaking the curse.”
Jordan studied the stone but didn’t take it. She wasn’t sure if she should.
“The stone belongs to you now,” the harpy said. “We never want to see the thing again.”
Glancing at Zeus, then back at the harpy, Jordan frowned in confusion. “My mom said you were not to be trusted and…well vicious. And If you were released from the stone, you would destroy the world.”
A wicked gleam sparked in the harpy’s eyes and the corners of her mouth twitched. “We are a vicious group. Destroying the world? That witch, and others like her, spread those rumors. However, we are loyal to those who prove themselves worthy. You have done that.”
She picked the pendant up and was surprised at how much lighter it felt. The dark energy from the harpies was gone, leaving the pure magic that belonged to Jordan’s mom. Tears blurred her vision, and she held the stone to her heart.
Mom will always be with me.
Zeus conjured the sheath the dagger belonged in and slid the blade inside. “Thank you for returning this.”
The harpy nodded. “The name is Chara. I know you will need that to save the queen.”
He nodded, and Jordan wanted to ask what Chara meant, but sensed it was better to wait. “If you need anything, we are in your debt.”
Chara nodded. “As we are with you. I would call it even, but I may need that favor.”
Then they left, flying off into the horizon.
Zeus ran his knuckles down Jordan’s cheek. “Let’s go home.”
She glanced at Drakon’s body and noticed it was gone. Panic spiked within her, and she gripped Zeus’s arms. “Where did he go?”
“To Hades.”
“Oh.” She sighed and sagged into him.
As if sensing her fatigue, he scooped her up in his arms, then teleported them to his beach house.
Zeus framed Jordan’s face, searching her features for any sign of shock. That’s when he saw her dragon within. The beast stared back at him through Jordan’s brown depths. “You’re part dragon.”
A ghost of a smile formed on her lips, and she nodded. “Drakon was my father. He and the fact I share a soul with a dragon was apparently what Mom hid from me.”
He hugged her close, kissing her temple. “Are you alright? Physically? Did he hurt you?”
Hugging him back, she squeezed him to her. “He didn’t hurt me. I was worried about you.”
His heart swelled. Everything about this woman sparked all kinds of emotions. The first time he saw her, he thought it’d be hard to leave her. In that moment, he knew it’d be impossible. She was his and had captured his heart.
Pulling back to stare into his eyes, he cupped her cheek. “I love you.”
A flash of gold rippled in her irises, and she smiled. “I love you too.”
He kissed her with hunger so raw it made him ache inside and out. Gripping her ass, he lifted her off the ground. She instantly wrapped her legs around him. Desire filled him, and his cock hardened.
He broke the kissed and held her. “I can’t stay on earth much longer. I’m needed in Olympu
s.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze, and a frown appeared on her lips. “I understand.”
When she started to wiggle out of his arms, he tightened his grip. “No, you don’t. I suck at asking anything of anyone.”
“Then don’t ask.” She smiled again, and he laughed, knowing she was catching on to what he was trying to say.
Still, he couldn’t demand her to do anything. “Come to Olympus with me…as my bride.”
Her face lit up. Just as fast, sadness clouded her features. “Hera. Drakon said Helena stabbed her with the dagger. I don’t understand how he would know. The timeline doesn’t make sense.”
Zeus’s chest tightened. He walked them over to the couch and sat with Jordan straddle over him. “That’s why I need the dagger. I felt a disconnect to Hera the moment I teleported to you.”
“Do you think she’s dead? Drakon said she was mortal. Could the dagger do that?”
He nodded. “If that is the intent of the one holding it. If she is alive, it’s possible she has no memory of her life or who she is.”
“Oh.” Jordan fell silent for a few moments. “I guess you want to find her?”
“Yes, but it can wait.” Zeus kissed Jordan’s nose. “Even without her memory, Hera is a strong woman. Plus, it will do her good to be on her own and out of her element for a while.”
He kissed his lips and let his linger over hers. “Right now, I need your answer. Will you be my bride?”
Her lips curved. “Yes.”
He teleported them to the bedroom and onto his bed. “I love you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Love you too.”
Turn the Page
and get a glimpse of Haunting Hephaestus
by Annalise Nixon
Book 9 in the Gods of Olympus Series.
Haunting Hephaestus
Vulcan stood in Destiny’s Fine Art and Curiosities lamenting the fact that he, Hephaestus, son of Zeus and Hera, had become a damned stalker. Mortals would still live in dank and moldy caves had he not gifted them with fire. The citizens of Pompeii would not have perished had they not failed to honor him. His hands created the world’s finest armor in every realm.
But, leaning against the wall, invisible to human eyes, he couldn’t find a reason to muster an ounce of shame.
“I have no idea what the hell you see in that Vulcan guy.” Fiona, one of Destiny’s two close friends, shook herself. “Seriously, Destiny, the guy’s hot...”
Gee, thanks, but there’s always a but in there with that one.
Fiona turned to the small pine cabinet and poured herself a cup of hot apple cider from the delicate coffee pot. “Too bad it’s in the I-just-escaped-from-Supermax-and-want-to-kill-your-family kind of way.”
Coming from a woman with a full sleeve of tattoos and half of her head shaved, Vulcan considered that a compliment—sort of.
“Come on… He’s a nice guy.” Destiny continued to clean the glass case holding magical curiosities.
Destiny… Vulcan sighed. For the last two millennia, he’d waited for the treacherous soul of Amina to be reborn. But for the love of him, why did it have to inhabit this body? Destiny, with the dark brown skin, large eyes that saw beauty in everything, and wild curly hair that begged for a man’s fingers, didn’t deserve what she’d have to suffer.
Then again, who did?
“Nice? You’re kidding right?” Janice, Destiny’s other friend, stopped fingering an antique brass chess piece. “Even the bikers on the way to Sturgis don’t bother him.”
“First of all, most of those guys are hobbyists, not meth-cooking criminals. Secondly, it’s not like he wants to see me naked.” Destiny shrugged, and the yellow sweater, the color of freshly churned butter, slipped down her shoulder.
“Hello.” Fiona sat her empty cup on the tray beneath the serving station and turned to her friend and placed her fists on her hips. “I happen to know you have a banging body beneath all those hippy-dippy clothes. Murder boy would be lucky to get you out of them.”
“I do?”
“Janice, mark this day on the calendar.” Fiona dabbed her forehead with a napkin, performing a passable impression a delicate southern belle.
“What did I miss?” Janice replaced the rook on the board and looked back and forth between her friends.
“Miss Moon petal actually has a vain bone in that crazy body.”
“Crazy?” Destiny laughed.
It never failed, her laughter reminded him of a brisk breeze against his cheeks as he snowboarded through fresh powder. It left him clean and exhilarated, and unfortunately, more than a little aroused.
“Hi pot, this kettle is pleased to meet you.” Destiny curtsied.
“Whatever.” Fiona waved her hand as if she were batting away a persistent fruit fly. “It’s time to forget about volcano—”
“Vulcan.”
“Whatever.” Fiona walked closer and squeezed Destiny’s arms, and her voice softened, “you should find yourself a nice guy. Forget about him.”
“In other words, I need someone boring… safe.”
“Some of those nerds have skills.” Janice’s gaze grew distant, and her smile spoke of happy memories. “How do you think they get and keep hot women?” Janice was smoking hot, with a Korean mother and a black father, most thought her Hawaiian, and her ex was a software engineer.
“Around here? Probably because they’re loaded.” Destiny walked behind the counter to lock the display cases. “You’re right, maybe I have a little crush on Vulcan, but I don’t have a shrine dedicated to him in my closet. He and I have a good business arrangement and…”
“Okay Moon-petal, what exactly do you see when you look at your sexy psycho?” Fiona grinned. “I mean, other than the tats. Did I mention the beard?”
“I thought you didn't like him?” Destiny rolled her eyes at and looked in Vulcan’s direction.
If he were visible, Vulcan would have sworn she stared at, rather than through him. This thing, this connection with the body holding Amina both confused and angered him.
“I see someone who’s been hurt.” The left side of Destiny’s mouth curved into a sad smile before she turned to Janice. “Allowing people behind those walls of his is hard.”
“Why don’t you just take him to bed, get a few orgasms out of it, and move on.” Fiona’s tone was breezy, as if she’d just suggested they go for a hike.
Yup, that was his sign to exit. The last thing he needed to imagine was bending Destiny across one of those fancy chaises in her store, flipping up her billowing skirt, and sinking deep inside her. That path of thought was well traveled, but even he, the ugly and unwanted god, had limits. He needed to destroy Destiny but making love to her would lead to his own ruin—again.
When her lips parted to reply, he willed himself to the clubhouse at the edge of his property.
Twenty-first-century life held its inconveniences. But at least supernaturals no longer feared the threat of torch-carrying villagers. Now, people chose to live in blissful ignorance of the magical life around them. Shifters and other beings didn’t hide, but neither did they announce their gifts. But when he deeded the parcel of land to the local pack one hundred years ago, that wasn’t the case.
“What’s up V?” Leandro, alpha of the Jackson Pack, walked into the office they shared and plopped on the couch.
“The usual.” Vulcan made himself comfortable in the leather armchair across from his friend. Nice, Vulcan wasn’t, but the one thing Destiny saw true—his inability to trust. But Leandro was a good man and served as a loyal and strong Alpha the last thirty years.
“When you say the usual,” Leandro paused, then took a sip of his beer, but not quick enough to hide the smirk. When he lowered the bottle, he leaned back and stretched his arms along the top of the couch. “You mean stalking poor Mouse?”
“Eat shit.” Vulcan struggled to look pissed, which served to amuse Leandro further. With Leandro’s dark hair, dark eyes, and square ja
w, he could be a telenovela star. But if one bothered to look deeper, the predator hovered just beneath the surface. A curse, followed by a chorus of male laughter broke the comfortable silence. “What’s going on out there?” He motioned with his head.
“The Laramie Pack is running with us tonight. Care to join us, or are you planning to make sure your little mouse is safe?”
“Since when do you concern yourself with my business?” Vulcan wanted a beer. Yes, he could easily conjure one, but why? Using power because of laziness seemed like a waste. As a blacksmith, artist, and expert in all things mechanical, he loved using his body. Which of course made him think of Destiny and those feminine clothes she insisted on wearing.
No, he needed to get on with his revenge and destroy everything she held dear.
“I could give a shit about you.” Leandro slapped his hands against his thighs and stood.
“Gee thanks.”
“Let’s keep it real, you can handle yourself.” Leandro downed the rest of his beer. “But her…she needs protection, a male to care for her. Destiny’s a nice girl.”
“At thirty-five, it’s safe to say she passed the girl stage a while ago.” He’d observed her long enough to know she was all woman. The body full of soft curves and toned muscles was a masterpiece he’d sculpted in his mind many a time.
“Well, aren’t we enlightened?” Leandro looked at Vulcan like he’d sprouted another head. “Listen man. There’s something innocent and sweet about her. And those skirts, I really want to see—”
“Enough.” Vulcan clenched his teeth, and when he finally had the rage tamped down enough to avoid ripping his friends head off, he glanced at the werewolf and found him grinning like an idiot.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You got it bad, man. I’ve never seen you all twisted up over a woman.”
“There is nothing more than business between Destiny and I, and that isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Despite the craving to unwrap her like a Yule gift.
Vulcan left the office and Leandro behind and stepped out of the narrow corridor to the gathering area. The clubhouse was open, modern, and airy without making it look as though the pack had been neutered. A long wood bar and comfortable seating areas took up one side of the cavernous room, while two regulation-sized pool tables and old-school pinball machines dominated the other.
