by elda lore
“You don’t have to be cruel. A simple no would do.” Preparing to press off the jamb and leave her to her hasty studies, the softened tone in her next question stopped me.
“Persephone told me.” She paused. “Is it true?”
I pressed off the doorjamb and walked into the room. I stood at the end of the table.
“Is what true?” The false smile returned to my face and threatened to crack.
“Don’t lie to me. I hate liars.” She slapped the book and then crossed her arms. Her face turned to the window at her side.
“What do you know?” My head lowered and I stared at the open page. Greek mythology. My eyes closed. “You can’t always believe all that you read, either. History omits.”
Her head swung back to me and she glared at me.
“I’m Solis Cronus. My father is Zeke. My mother was named Meta. They had a true marriage.”
She shook her head in disbelief. What I rattled off were facts she knew.
“How are you related to Hades?”
I flinched at the direct use of his name. Persephone had told her.
“He’s my cousin.”
“So it’s true. You’re a god.”
A genuine smile crossed my face, seeing an out to this conversation. “Well, I have been told that on occasion.”
Her eyes rolled. “This is funny to you, isn’t it?” She walked to the window, her back to me. The day blossomed to a sunny blue sky after a night of violent lightning storms.
“Veva,” my tone warned.
“Is this a joke? Are you and Persephone in on this together? Let’s try to fool Veva to disguise our feelings for one another.”
“What feelings?” I asked, stepping closer to her. My hands twitched to swipe her hair to the side, exposing the nape of her neck and those fine hairs I desired to stroke.
“The ones you have for Persephone.” Her hand swiped at her cheek.
“Are you crying?” I stepped to the side of her, attempting to peek at her face.
“No,” she snapped, briskly wiping the other cheek.
“I don’t have feelings for Persephone, Veva. I told you that.” I emphasized the last words, softening my tone.
“How am I to believe you? How can I believe anything? So many lies.”
“What lies, Veva?” I stood directly beside her, my hands itching to reach for her. The vibe radiating off her skin told me if I did, she’d shatter.
“Zeke. Hades. Who are these people? Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Vee.” Her incredulous stare told me I better start talking, though, or that heavy book could be a weapon launched at me. Her white knuckles at her elbows confirmed her slow boil.
“My mother married my father, but a prophecy predicted a son of their union would kill him. When she found out she was having a son, she ran away. She found solace in another man. When Zeke found her, he was angered that she’d disappeared and hid me. He forced her to return to him. She gave him a daughter instead. He claimed the girl as his one true heir.” Athena. Athena was my sister from my father’s first marriage.
She turned to look at me, hearing something in my voice. My jaw clenched. Liquid filled her eyes.
“This is all so strange. A prophecy?” Her tone turned serious. “That’s a little sketchy. Why not say your horoscope predicted it? I mean, let’s poke fun at Veva, was that a prophecy, too?”
“You think this is a joke. I just shared my life with you.” I pressed off the window and paced a few steps away. The full truth swirled behind my teeth and then stormed through my throat for release. I wanted to tell her everything, but her attitude prevented my trust. I didn’t need her to laugh at me.
“Girl, what has gotten into you?” I chuckled bitterly, attempting to crack the tension myself as I stalked back her. I could see Veva simmering, ready to explode. While I wanted to take that boiling energy to a new level, her anger was not what I had in mind. I shook my head.
“Veva,” I said, reaching out to cover her shoulders.
“Don’t touch me,” she growled. My hands retreated upward in surrender as she spun to face me.
“Veva, slow down. What do you want to know?”
“Does Zeke have special powers, oh-wa-ha-ha…” Her voice drifted off in eerie mockery, while her fingers wiggled in my direction. “What about his brother, Hades? Or this Harris-Black-Hades fabrication Persephone developed?” Her voice rose with each question and the irony of truth in her asking prevented me for answering.
“Veva, I can’t tell you.”
She brushed past me to the open book at the table. “Can’t or won’t?”
My pause answered her. Their stories were not mine to tell.
“You’re just like the rest.” She shook her head. “So many untold truths. It’s all a joke.”
My frustration festered that she would lump me with the rest of them. My father. My uncle. Even my cousin.
“Well, I guess you won’t have to worry about me for much longer, because I’m being sent away. Zeke is sending me to your family farm, since you and Persephone are here.”
Her forehead crinkled. “Because of us?”
“Yes, for some reason he doesn’t want me around either of you because I took you rock climbing.” My mouth spat the last two words, the frustration rising to boil inside me.
“That’s stupid.” She turned completely to face me. Her arms crossed again as her hip rested against the table.
“That’s what I told Zeke.” Her eyebrows rose. “I mean, what kind of threat am I to either one of you? You hate me, and Persephone still loves Hades.”
“Exactly.” Her hands dropped and smacked her thighs, but her eyes squinted at me.
“And there’s no way I could hook up with either of you.” I stepped closer to her and she repositioned herself to rest her sweet behind against the table. My feet straddled her outstretched ones.
“I mean, you never like it when I touch you.” My hand brushed a wayward hair cascading over her shoulder and traced up her neck that called out for my lips. Her back straightened. Her shoulders set.
“And you can’t even talk to me without barking at me.” My finger dragged along her jaw, drawing down her chin.
“And the thought of kissing me repulses you.” My finger jumped to trace her lips, the pout of the lower flesh and the tempting bow of the upper curve. Her throat rolled as she swallowed, and I leaned toward her.
“And if we can’t kiss, we’d never, ever, engage in sex, and you’d never learn if locker room talk was true.” I breathed over her slightly open mouth as my voice lowered, the deep tone almost strangling me, while my lips hovered so closer to hers. She sucked in that breath and then closed her lips, holding my words inside the warmth of her mouth. My hand came up to her neck and slipped under her hair. She gently pressed back, the fight apparent in her, but her body screamed for mine. My Veva wanted to struggle. My mouth prepped for the fight.
“Solis, I’ve been looking for you.” Mel’s voice crawled over my skin, scraping deep gouges down my already scarred back. My eyes closed. Damn it.
“Better not keep your lady waiting,” Veva snipped. “Especially one who will have sex with you, according to the locker room.”
VEVA
Solis left the room and rage flew out of me. He’d almost had me—his tempting words, his electric nearness, the sad expression at the mention of his father. I swept the table clear of books, and I pushed over a chair to clatter on the floor. I fell amidst the mess I made, and cried hot tears of frustration. He played me.
“Veva.” Heph found me as a heaving mess on the tile, sobbing over my own foolishness. The rough tone didn’t startle me, and I looked up at those deep, dark eyes. Heph settled on the floor next to me and I curled into him. His awkward embrace and clumsy pat on my back expressed his confusion. I couldn’t explain it either, but I wanted to be close to someone.
“What happened here?”
“I…” How could I explain that I lost control? T
hese types of tantrums had happened many times before. Constricted. It was the best word to describe me. Wound so tight I felt I couldn’t breathe until I let the energy out of me. I took out my frustration on the books and the chair until my own sobs brought me down to the floor.
“The books?” I looked up at Heph. “I ruined the heirlooms.” A shaky hand covered my mouth. Forgetting their precious value, I reacted with my heart, not my head. You’ve always been like this, my mother said. She was the cause.
“These dusty old things. Nah, don’t worry about it.” His arm was still wrapped around my shoulder, my head resting on his. “What did he do?”
“What did who do?” But instantly, I thought of Solis.
“Whoever made you so mad you turned the library into a training ring?”
I giggled. The place was a mess. I aggressively swiped at my cheeks, my makeup undoubtedly smeared down my face.
“It’s silly girl things.” I waved dismissively, not certain I could explain my frustration with Solis to his brother.
“Oh.” He nodded like he understood. “I don’t understand.” He looked down at me, and I pressed on his thick chest to sit upright.
“I don’t think I understand either, Heph. Sometimes, I just lose it. It’s like energy bottled up inside me and I just explode.”
“Like soda in a can?”
“Like soda in a can, exactly. Working on the farm, I burned the energy by day, let off steam at night.” I decided to stop the explanation there; it wasn’t necessary to share the details with Heph. “At school, it wasn’t as easy, but I worked out and it helped. Here, I’ve been too lazy. I need to run or walk or do something to let the negative energy go.” I lifted my arms out straight and shook them back and forth. “Solis had me paint the other night and that helped.”
Heph’s head swung to look at me. “He did? He never takes girls to his studio.”
“He doesn’t?” It was my turn to wonder.
“Says it’s his sanctuary. He doesn’t bring the girls there.” He nodded to emphasize the statement.
But I was there, I thought, and he didn’t make me leave. He didn’t try to take advantage of me, either. He made me paint and then he held me. All night he cradled me against him on the hard floor, comforting me by smoothing back my hair. I thought of his breath against my neck when he finally slept, his warmth surrounding me, keeping me calm.
“He likes a lot of girls, doesn’t he?” I taunted Heph with my question.
“He does, but he’s looking for the one. Tells me all the time, the one is out there.” Heph’s eyes glazed over, dreamy, and still. His gaze fell to his metal leg. My brows pinched, and I looked at the scar on his forehead.
“What happened to you?”
“I fell climbing the rocks one day, and that took my leg.” He paused a beat. “My father kicked me out once, and this is what happened.” A thick finger circled his face.
“Zeke kicked you out?” While Zeke had too many children to keep track of, the idea that he banished a child surprised me. But then I thought of Solis, and the idea he was being sent away because he took Pea and I rock climbing…Could he have thrown Heph out as well?
“It was such a long time ago. I went in search of my mother, but she didn’t want me. She thought I was slow or something.” He looked off toward the stacks of books, his large feet rolling back and forth against the tile floor.
“I can’t imagine a mother never wanting a child.” My voice rose a little with my surprise.
“Mine didn’t. Well, at least not me.” His lips twisted. “Anyhow, Zeke took me back. He said I was ugly but he loved me, and not to piss him off again. I didn’t need to search for her to find love. I had it here.” He pointed at the floor, representing this estate. “And here.” He tapped his chest. “I don’t think he was right, but I haven’t left again.” Heph’s rough voice grew sad. My hand covered his thick wrist, measuring the size of a small tree trunk. He was strong, despite the injury to his leg or his face. He didn’t seem smart, but he was wise.
“My father didn’t want me either. Whoever he was, he didn’t want me.”
“How do you know that?” His big eyes questioned me.
“My mother. She’s always hinting that the reason he left was because he didn’t want a child.” I shrugged. I hardened my heart to those words. My psychology courses taught me I used men to replace the emptiness I felt at being abandoned by my father. I called bullshit on that diagnosis. I was fine without a man. They only served one purpose for me.
Heph looked at me. He eyed my hair and my face. He looked down at my hand on his wrist. Then narrowed his eyes when he looked into mine.
“You look so much like her,” he muttered. “Except for the eyes. Those must be his.”
“Who?”
“Your father,” he said. I blinked.
“Do you know who he is?” The question surprised me. Of course, he wouldn’t know. Heph hardly knew me.
“Nope. I’ve met your mother, though. And you could be her twin.” I’d heard that so many times. My mother often blushed, but I hated the comparison. I didn’t want to be like her. She was a bitter woman because my father left her. She held hatred like no one I’d ever known. She despised men and she tried to instill that legacy in me. Men were evil. They would leave, especially if I gave myself to one. They led to heartache. She cursed all men, even Zeke, though she smiled demurely at him and got that pained expression in her eyes each time she saw him.
“When did you met Hera?”
Heph’s head shot away from mine, and he bit his lip. “Um, while I wandered, I came across her.” He pressed off the floor and stood effortlessly. A little hobble and he straightened his poor leg. He reached a hand down to me and hoisted me upward like a small child. Releasing my hand instantly, he offered to help me clean up. I stared at him. He didn’t wait for my acceptance; he just righted the chair and picked up books. He glanced up at me while I watched him, and a familiarity hit me again. His eyes. There was something about them. I’d seen them before, and the eerie sensation of recognition hovered in my mind. Heph handed me a book, and the thought disappeared. The book of mythology recaptured my attention.
SOLIS
The news Mel told me rocked me to the core. While I didn’t see how it couldn’t wait until after I kissed Veva, it certainly was shocking information, and Mel knew how to surprise me. She’d interrupted my attempts twice now, and I started to wonder if she had a sixth sense about my attraction to Veva. Impossible, though, as Mel was not a goddess, but a royal princess here on earth. She’d asked for my help, and I recommended a priestess familiar with Athena. Zeke would freak if he knew Mel was involved in this scandal. Her mother was one of his many lovers.
For days, I kept my distance from Veva, trying to prove to my father that I had no particular interest in her or Persephone. The rock climbing excursion was merely a friendly adventure with our newest guests. Heph came to my defense, and it had been a week of waiting for Zeke’s banishment. The warning clear, if I crossed a line with either girl, there would be severe consequences. His temper could flare at a moment’s notice, and I rested on the edge of a precipice, awaiting the summons to leave.
Now that Veva knew the truth, or at least questioned some things, I was certain she would have no interest in me. A god. It was true. As Zeke’s oldest son, despite his favored daughter, I was the secret heir to all his wealth. The thirteenth Olympic Oil trustee. The one not mentioned in history. I would inherit his plantation on earth and his powers within the heavens. I’d already received some control. The weather often mimicked my mood, especially lately. My anger with Zeke increased my ability to alter things. My trainer was impressed daily with the strength and control I exhibited. I bore the scar that gave me that power, but I suppressed the control so as not to overrule my father, as the prophecy foretold. I did not wish to follow in his path, and fulfill a destiny set because of his own actions.
I unexpectedly found Veva in the guest common room one af
ternoon painting with water colors.
“Whatcha doing?” I asked over her shoulder, startling her. A paint brush stood out of a cup filled with murky water. She snapped the simple case closed and stood to face me, attempting to block the low table from my view. I stepped left; she followed. I stepped right; she blocked me again. With my best right-left fake, I reached forward and tugged her against me, and then spun to place her behind me.
“Hey,” she complained, banging on my chest. I peered over my shoulder down at the work. A multitude of gray clouds in varying shades filled the paper. A bright yellow lightning bolt highlighted the center of the page. A second paper sat off to the side, drying. A lightly-tanned back marked by a dark scar centered the page. Golden wings at each side emphasized the body in the middle. My face shot back to hers. One hand circled both of her wrists to halt the beating on my chest.
“Veva, what’s this?” My voice snapped harsher than I intended, but panic rose inside me.
“I’m just…” Her tone softened. Her eyes sheepish. “I’m just painting.”
I towered over her two samples on the low table. “Those are both good. Tell me about them.”
She struggled in my hold, but I refused to release her. I wanted to know why she painted a replica of the image she made in my room and the picture of a broken angel.
“I liked the one I made in your studio. I wanted another one to…” She shrugged, diverting her eyes to the floor.
“Tell me,” I demanded, again my voice rough.
“I wanted to make another one to remind me to remain calm,” she snapped in annoyance. I lowered our joined hands. Still imprisoning her wrists like a handcuff, I nodded in the direction of the second one.
“And the other one?”
Her eyes shot up to mine and then looked away instantly. “Are you Icarus?” The question asked so low I wasn’t certain I heard her.
“Icarus?” My brows pinched.
“The angel who flew too close to the sun. Did your wings rip out? Did you fall to the ground? Did you hit your head and devise this craziness that you’re a god?” Each question brought a higher octave, and deeper sarcasm, as she struggled within my hold. I released her and sat sharply in the comfy chair she previously occupied. I picked up the picture with a shaky hand.
