“I’m not sure,” Leonidas says. “Have you done anything different this week than you’d normally do?”
Well, considering yesterday my whole world turned upside down, I’d say I did a ton of things differently. But I can’t think of anything specific that would have raised a god of Death. “No. But today is my twenty-first birthday, or more precise it’s the day I celebrate my birth because I don’t know the actual day I was created. Maybe it has something to do with that, with me coming of age, so to speak.”
“Could be,” Leonidas says. “Maybe the gods are going to be watching you more carefully now.”
Not what I want to hear. “Thanatos or no Thanatos, I am off from work today and I’m going over to Fifi’s Bakery on the corner for a cupcake.”
Leonidas furrows his brow, the serious expression making him look beyond concerned. I worry about what I’ve gotten myself into. Between having to now deal with these three dudes as well as trying to stay off Chaos’s radar, I better find that damn box soon or I doubt I’m going to survive this new life of real live mythology.
“I think you should forget the cupcake, Pumpkin,” Ares says.
“Are you kidding me? I am so going to have that cake today. If Moros and his brothers are after me, I might not make it to next year. And you have not lived until you’ve had one of Fifi’s birthday cupcakes, or so I have been told. And I haven’t had one of them yet.”
“Then we’ll go with you.”
I want to say it sounds like a plan, but I hold back on those words. Can I really traipse about New York City with three immortal Spartan warriors in tow? Granted, they don’t look like Spartans…or immortals. But still, they have a way about themselves that just might stick out to New Yorkers. “Maybe I should go get the cupcakes and bring them back here. Then we can have them together without a bunch of mortals around.”
Leonidas shakes his head. “We are not letting you out of our sight. Not until Moros has been dealt with.”
That could take eternity. I huff. “Fine. Let me get my socks and sneakers and then all four of us can go down the block.” I really just want a quiet moment to enjoy my cake, but if I have to bring this bunch along, might as well get it over with. At least I’ll still get to do something special for birthday.
Lycus vanishes and returns in a split second.
“How did you do that?”
“I can flash. So can the other two.” He hands me a pair of purple socks and my white sneakers.
“How did you know which ones to get?”
He didn’t answer.
I shrug. “Fine. Maybe I don’t need to know.” I take the shoes, but he won’t give up the socks.
“Have a seat,” he says, pointing to the couch.
I really don’t have time for this, but it is my birthday, so I take the offer as it will be the only gift I get today.
Lycus parks his ass on the coffee table, barely missing Zeus’s book.
I flop on the sofa across from him and raise my right leg to rest on his thigh.
He caresses my foot with the most incredible massage techniques. I can take this all day if he cares to dish it out. He moves his hands upward. “You have small ankles, Dora.”
He calls me by the name I’m used to, though I don’t know how he knows it.
His hands keep working my flesh, shifting between my ankle and my foot. “Oh, gods, but that feels good.” Warmth spreads through my veins. He keeps going for at least a good five minutes.
I moan. I am so in trouble.
Lycus slips my sock over my toes and gently tugs the fuzzy fabric up my foot. “Switch,” he says, his voice a bit commanding.
Right now, I’ll do anything he asks of me. My foot feels like it’s in heaven, wrapped in a bundle of clouds.
Ares plops down next to Lycus and grabs my sneaker. He slips my foot inside and ties up the shoe.
“Guys, you really don’t need to be doing this. I can take care of myself.”
“Not with Thanatos around.” Leonidas walks over to the sliding doors leading to the terrace. He gazes outside. “I don’t think this apartment is safe.”
It’s the only home I have. “There is no place else we can go, so we have to make this work.” I doubt my Spartans understand the concept of paying rent. I’m lucky to have this place as it’s a fraction of what similar apartments cost.
Lycus goes for my left foot and repeats his magickal rub. After he slips the sock on, Ares takes over with the sneaker.
I appreciate the effort they’re making, but I can think of a million other things the four of us should be doing.
“As can I,” Leonidas says, stepping away from the sliding glass doors. A devilish grin crosses his lips.
For once, my mind is actually thinking outside of the gutter where these guys are concerned. Like thinking about trying to find my lost box or figuring out how we’re going to stay off Moros’s radar. Though I admit, even with only knowing my Spartans for a bit, they are damn tempting. “I am so not going there, mister.”
He gives a soft laugh. “Are you ready for that cupcake?”
I nod, get off the couch, and head out with my three hunky protectors.
I pray to the gods none of Moros’s minions show up because all I want to do is eat one freaking cupcake in peace.
Chapter 5
Ordering a cupcake, or four in this case, shouldn’t be so difficult a deal. But apparently, for immortal Spartan warriors, it’s major.
Ares fawns over the case, his eyes bulging. “They have shrimp flavor!”
Can he be any louder? So much for wanting to stay off the gods’ radar, I bet Zeus himself heard that little statement all the way up on Mount Olympus. Never mind what the mortal customers must be thinking. The place is packed today.
Leonidas sucks his bottom lip, then says, “I’m going for the vanilla confetti with the bright pink icing.” He’s even louder than was Ares. “No, wait. Maybe I’ll go for the chocolate.”
I just want to die.
“Yep. I’ll take two of the chocolate ones,” Leonidas finally makes up his mind. He raises two fingers to the woman at the counter, as if she didn’t hear his booming declaration.
If I have to buy each of my guys two cupcakes, I’m going to be out of pocket money for the whole week.
“Don’t worry Sweet Cakes,” Ares says, “the cupcakes are on us today.”
I hope he realizes he has to pay. With money.
“Of course, I do. We might spend most of our time on the ethereal plane, but we do cross over every now and then. In fact, we each own several homes on earth. Eventually, you’ll get to visit them all.” He gives a wink.
Living with three Spartans isn’t going to be easy. I can just sense it. I look away from Ares and focus my gaze on Lycus who has been silent since we left the apartment.
He leans on one of the bakery cases, but doesn’t order.
“The blueberry cupcakes are very good,” I say, trying to open him up a bit.
“I’m not eating. Thank you.”
“But you can’t come to Fifi’s and not sample the goods. This is the first time I’m trying their birthday cupcake, but I’ve had others many times. They’re sinfully rich. Unlike any other cake you’ll ever eat. You can’t not have one.”
“I can when Ker’s here.” He looks past my shoulder, his gaze settling somewhere behind me.
I freeze. Based on what I know from my studies, Ker is nothing like his violent brother Thanatos, but he’s still a god of death. And I have no plans on checking out today. Even in a peaceful manner. I lower my voice. “We can’t make a scene. There are mortals here. Humans who know nothing about us.”
“I know that,” Lycus says. “But if it comes down to your life or causing a ruckus, what do you think I’m going to do?”
A cold touch strikes my arm, but I don’t see anything. Ker.
Lycus moves his hand to the dagger dangling at his waist and retrieves the weapon, sliding it under the sleeve of his leather jacket.
Ares comes up behind me and wraps his right arm around my waist. Now I have Spartans flanking both sides of me. “We’ve got your back, Sugar.”
At least he didn’t call me cupcake.
Leonidas is behind me, I can feel his warmth seeping through my fleece vest, weaving through my sweatshirt and jeans, and finally spreading across my skin, delving inside me and coursing through my veins. If Ker is on the hunt and if that hunt includes killing me, he’s going to have to engage in a pretty hefty battle first. And I doubt even he’s willing to risk all just to grab one soul, in public. He prefers the peaceful, quiet ways of killing and that can’t happen to me now. Not that I feel any better. Just knowing the dark god is lurking about is enough to unsettle my nerves.
The woman at the counter slides a bakery box my way, shifting my focus away from my enemy. “Half a dozen cupcakes in here,” she says, tapping the string-wrapped carton. “And one birthday cupcake in this special box.”
I stare at the unique cupcake-shaped container. Its see-through pink lid has something bouncing around inside it, though from the gold aura pulsing at the top, I don’t think it’s of this earth. Which means the woman can’t see it. “This packaging is different than what I’ve seen you use before.” I reach for my birthday cupcake.
“They’re new,” the woman says. “Some off the street salesman brought in the sample this morning.”
I smile, try to hide my concern. If the vibrant pulsing energy is of the gods, then it can be either poison or maybe even a piece of Hope. As I don’t remember the moment I released hell on earth, I don’t remember what Hope looks like or if all of her even remained in the box. There is a chance a piece of her escaped as no one ever said she had to remain whole to remain in my lost box. I search my memory, try to recall what Hope looks like. But I can’t pull up a single image. For all I know, she can have a bright aura beaming from her essence or maybe the aura is just her way of communicating with me. It is plausible as in the world of the gods, anything is possible.
I sigh. I’m just not sure about anything anymore. But the container is still a form of a box, and boxes are my thing. So, if Hope was to try to find me, she’d reach out from a box. I’m pretty certain on that, but why I’m sure, I don’t know. Of course, poison is just as much a given, considering my affection for boxes and my curious nature. The gods must know I’d do anything to get my hands on a box, especially a unique looking one. Oh, I am so fucked.
Leonidas leans closer. Stretching his arm over my shoulder, he hands the cashier money for the cupcakes and then grabs the box.
He brings his mouth to my ear, the scent of mint reaching my nose. “Do you want me to carry your cupcake?”
I’m quite capable of handling a single item, even if it is touched by the gods. “I got this one, but thanks.” I cradle the plastic package to my chest. The energy pulsing from its top vibrates against my ribs, but unlike the heat from Leonidas, it doesn’t snake its way beneath my clothes, it remains contained in the package.
Ares tugs my arm, pulls me toward the door.
From the corner of my eye, I see a gray shadow hovering nearby. Ker is still here.
“He’s not going to harm you,” Lycus says, remaining at my left, his fingers still poised on the hilt of the dagger under his sleeve. “If Ker was here to claim your life, he’d have come with reinforcements. And he hasn’t. They would have shown up by now, trust me.”
Lycus’s words do little to ease my worries. I don’t like Death stalking me, even if he is just here to survey the situation and not kill me…yet. Eventually he will be back and so, too, will his brother Thanatos. According to what I’ve studied, the two of them will do anything for Moros. Even if mortals didn’t get things one-hundred percent correct where the gods are concerned, I know for fact Death does exist. And it does come either in peace or by violent means. I may not trust the other stories of the gods, at least not to a tee, but I can’t dispute the tales about Moros and his two miserable brothers.
Lycus closes the small gap lingering between us.
Leonidas shadows my back, his energy continuing to warm my blood.
We leave the bakery and walk up the block.
Ker follows us, his dark gray aura moving alongside Ares. He doesn’t take human form and I suspect that’s because he’s only here to unnerve me or to stake out my reaction to his presence. But whatever his reason for hovering around us, I won’t let him get the best of me. I’m not easily intimated.
Visions of Chaos’s face fills my mind.
A wicked gust of wind kicks up, takes my breath away as it slams my face. My cheeks sting, my fingers freeze. I try to breathe, but can’t. All my energy is focused on the container at my chest. I will not drop it.
A distant cackle teases my ears as a second blast of air, this time far more arctic in temperature, comes down at me with gale-like force. My feet literally track backward and I step on Leonidas’s boots. But he braces my body, so I don’t fall and take the four of us down on the sidewalk. Wouldn’t Ker love to see that.
I tighten my grip on the container at my chest. Gathering all my strength, I battle the wind and get moving again.
Chaos can try all she wants to aid Ker. And maybe that’s why she’s lured me in, she is the mother of Nyx, the Greek goddess of night, who bore Ker, Thanatos, and Moros. But I won’t cave. And she should know that about me after having taught me for three years.
My Spartans and I make it back to the apartment in one piece, but I admit my nerves are rattled and I don’t enjoy feeling this way. I am going to need a better plan next time I leave home, as the war between me and Moros is definitely a go now. He risked a lot today by sending Ker to the bakery and Thanatos to my apartment. Which leaves me to believe I must be getting close to learning something about my missing box.
I stare down at the cupcake container clutched to my breast. It no longer has a pulsing aura, and I can’t detect anything moving around inside the see-through pink top. My shoulders droop.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Leonidas says, reaching out and taking the package. “It was probably a decoy, arranged by Moros to see what you’d do. Hope hasn’t been killed.”
While I’m relieved at the news, I don’t like being toyed with, and the gods are starting to push my limits. First it was Zeus with his damn box, along with the other gods and goddesses who created me, then in this lifetime there’s Chaos, once again Zeus, only now with his book instead of his box or jar or whatever the hell he actually had given me, and now Moros and his miserable brothers. And I for one, will not put up with these taunting antics dispensed by Olympus’s pompous residents.
“Careful, Sweet Cake,” Ares warns. “Don’t let those bastards rile you up. It will only cause you more grief and take your focus away from the real concern.”
My flirting Spartan has a point. But it doesn’t make me feel any less used by the gods. “I want my cupcake.” I take off my vest and hang it up on the brass coat rack and head into the kitchen. My three warriors follow.
I grab the tea kettle from the stove and bring it over to the sink and fill it with water. “Ker and Thanatos might have upped the ante today on behalf of Moros, but I will not let them ruin my birthday. We’re having our cake and our tea.”
“I drink coffee,” Ares says from somewhere behind me.
I spin around, teapot in hand.
Lycus elbows Ares, his move surprising me.
“Tea will be fine,” Ares says with a bit of a frown gracing his lips.
I gaze at the wolf. He’s vastly different from flirty Ares, and calm, collected, and always in charge Leonidas. But there’s something very enticing about the quiet Lycus. Between his deep, dark brown eyes and that brooding air of his, he makes my heart skip a beat. So, too, does Ares and Leonidas, but for different reasons. If anyone would have told me yesterday that I’d wake up and learn I’m the infamous Pandora, wi
ll summon three immortal Spartans as my protectors, and also find the trio irresistible, I’d have told that person they were off their rocker.
But here I am, now firmly entrenched in the world of the gods and flocked by three sinfully sexy guardians who I have a feeling are going to get me into a whole heap of trouble. And I don’t think that trouble will be reserved strictly for tangling with the Olympians.
Lycus takes a seat at the kitchen table and rips the string tied around the box of cupcakes. Leonidas and Ares join him.
I place the kettle back on the stove and get the tea going.
“Have a seat,” Ares pats the chair between him and Lycus.
The wolf doesn’t comment, but he dives into the cupcake in his hand like a ferocious animal, devouring it in two bites. I can’t help but stare.
“What?”
I grab a napkin from the wrought iron holder in the center of the table and offer it to him. “You have icing in the right corner of your mouth.”
He shies away from me, instead licking his lips.
“Still there,” Ares says.
I reach up and go for Lycus’s mouth.
He grabs my hand, wraps his large fingers around my wrist. “Don’t.”
A zap of energy shocks my skin as his grip tightens around me. It zooms through my flesh, into my blood and bones. The scent of pine fills my nose. All three Spartans smell good, though I don’t believe I prefer one scent over the other.
I pull my hand away and slink back into my chair. My mind wanders. Lycus is a dark, brooding soul. His pent-up pain is not just something I sense, but I also see it in his rich cocoa eyes. There’s a part of his irises that has a small storm brewing, much like Chaos’s eyes, yet different. This storm isn’t one caused by Lycus. It’s the pain he’s suffered at the hands of another and I have no clue who has done this to him or when. But it runs deep. I sense it in my soul.
The Revelation Page 4
