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A Fate for Zeus: Gods of Olympus 8

Page 8

by Lia Davis


  The thud of Leandro’s footsteps paused next to Vulcan, and he tried his damnedest to ignore the wolf.

  Without missing a beat, Leandro resumed their conversation. “I’m thinking—”

  “Your first mistake,” Vulcan muttered.

  “You need to get laid. Find you someone that…” Leandro sucked in a breath. His next words sounded like a lust-filled prayer. “Dios Mio.”

  Vulcan watched and chuckled at the reactions of not only Leandro, but the rest of the males as trouble covered in leather walked in Vulcan’s direction. Oshun, Yoruba goddess and his dearest friend, ratcheted the testosterone level in the room up a few degrees.

  He looked at Leandro and laughed. “Are you well, my friend? Shall I retrieve the AED?”

  “I am in love.”

  Oshun glanced at Leandro before stopping in front of Vulcan. The grin she blessed him with was heavy with I-know-all-your-secrets and lifetimes of affection.

  Damn, he missed this woman.

  “Hey, sugar.” She kissed Vulcan’s cheek, then wrapped an arm around his waist and took measure of Leandro. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, her voice as rich and dark as her complexion.

  “Leandro, Alpha of the Jackson Pack, at your service.” He extended a hand. Instead of shaking hers when she extended it, he rotated her wrist and placed a soft kiss on her palm.

  “Pleased to meet you, Leandro,” she pronounced his name rolling the r around her mouth as if tasting it. “The pleasure is mine.”

  “You two need something to drink?” Vulcan coughed twice into the side of his fist. “How about a bucket of water?”

  “My dear friend, don’t you have to human-sit tonight?” Oshun batted her eyes.

  “Oh, everybody has jokes.” Vulcan nodded and took a step back. “I see how it is.” How long had she been in town, watching, stirring up trouble? Yes, they were friends, but gods of most ancient pantheons tended to have a flexible sense of morals.

  “We all need someone to look out for us occasionally.” She tilted her head slightly and smiled at Leandro. “Isn’t that right, handsome?”

  “You can’t wear painted on leather and expect him to think.” Vulcan had never seen Leandro so instantly smitten. Then again, there was much to admire when it came to Oshun. Too bad most men didn’t see past the long legs or her…other physical assets. But when one was a goddess of birth and all things feminine, any with testosterone were rendered helpless.

  “I would ask how well the two of you are acquainted,” Leandro inhaled, then let out a low growl, “but I suddenly I don’t give a shit.”

  “I planned to run with the pack tonight. You want to go or hang out until I return?” As gods, they could take any form, but she usually balked at fur. Something about hairy legs and watching males have too much fun cleaning their nether parts.

  “I’m game for a little physical exertion this evening.” The woman was so smooth butter didn’t melt in her mouth.

  “You two catch up.” Leandro slapped Vulcan on the arm. “Oshun, I’d be honored if you ran beside me this night.” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, he gave her a low formal nod, and backed away.

  Interesting. He watched Leandro speak with the members of his council, then chat with his pack. In all the years he’d known the wolf, Vulcan had only twice seen him issue a formal invitation to a woman to join him on a run.

  Like in times of old, Oshun and I stood in silence, an unlikely pair, united against the world. Damn, it felt like home.

  “Did you not miss me oh mighty god of fire?”

  “You didn’t give me time to miss you.”

  “It’s been fifty years.” Her voice was musical, even now as she whined.

  That shouldn’t have made him smile, but his lips tilted upward. “What name are you using?”

  “My own.” She let out a wry bark of a laugh. “It’s not like the people of Jackson Hole know much about Yoruba Goddesses.”

  “They’d be so lucky. Why are you here?”

  “Can't a woman just want to hang out with the only Greek worth a damn?”

  “No.”

  “Trouble’s coming,” she whispered, her voice flat.

  “Yeah? If it’s looking for me—here I am.”

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  About the Author

  In 2008, Lia Davis ventured into the world of writing and publishing and never looked back. She has published more than twenty books, including the bestselling A Tiger’s Claim, book one in her fan favorite Ashwood Falls series. Her novels feature compassionate yet strong alpha heroes who know how to please their women and her leading ladies are each strong in their own way. No matter what obstacle she throws at them, they come out better in the end.

  While writing was initially a way escape from real world drama, Lia now makes her living creating worlds filled with magic, mystery, romance, and adventure so that others can leave real life behind for a few hours at a time.

  Lia’s favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers, but it’s her home and she loves it! Sign up for her newsletter, become a member of her fan club, and follow her on Twitter @NovelsByLia.

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