by Teri Gilbert
Had their ancestors chosen Athens for its beauty? Somehow they must have. The sea meant life, and the expansive view of water tugged at something elemental, something connected to the souls of both men and gods.
Did she believe she was a god? No. If she were, she wouldn’t be in this bind. Was Mallaki? Could the genes of his ancestors be so powerful he’d been elevated to that level? Despite the warmth radiating from the picture windows, she fought back a shiver. She hoped not. But even so, everything she’d seen indicated he was a man to be reckoned with.
The sound of shoes slapping against the marble floor brought her back to reality. She turned slowly. Her pulse stuttered, and her breath came in short spurts. Mallaki was coming toward her, arm raised. There was nowhere for her to go. She braced herself for his touch, willing herself not to cringe. He slid the wig from her head, a satisfied smile tugging the corner of his lips, then entangled his fingers in her hair, smoothing his thumb over the individual strands. “Now, this color suits you.” His voice lowered to a seductive purr.
Heat flashed to her face. Her first instinct was to draw back, but she couldn’t afford to appear uncooperative, not at this stage of the game. Mallaki had to think he had a docile prisoner on his hands. He fluffed up the sides of her hair, then studied her, nodding his approval. “I’ll send up Naia and Litsa later to help you with this. We’re showing you to your room now.” Mallaki made a half turn, then gestured for her to go in front of him. At least a dozen identical corridors branched from the rotunda. She’d have to be careful when she escaped or she could get lost.
They walked down expansive marble corridors, Mallaki on one side of her, Zander on the other. They hadn’t gone far when Mallaki veered sharply to the left, then stopped partway down the hallway. Zander unlocked and opened the door. Mallaki entered and motioned her forward, while Zander remained outside.
Eleni kept images of the hurricane victims fixed in her mind as she surveyed the room.
Outside of the movies, she’d never seen anything like it. The room was enormous, with picture windows similar to those in the rotunda, except two were full-length glass French doors. A king-size, four-poster bed sat against one wall, a marble vanity against the other. In the center sat a white full-length couch, matching chair, and marble end table. Never would she let herself forget the cost of such opulence.
Knowing Mallaki’s gaze was on her, Eleni forced a murmur of approval when she entered the bathroom. The standard pieces were there, sink, toilet, bidet, but the shower was built for two, with dual showerheads, and the bathtub contained at least a dozen water jets.
“I see you’re pleased. Good.”
Her act was working. At least Mallaki was treating her more like a guest rather than a prisoner. If only she could maintain his trust...
She followed Mallaki into the living area, where he gestured toward a door on the far side. “The closets and drawers are stocked with women’s clothing of various sizes. I often have weekend guests who come, shall we say, at the drop of a hat.”
She scowled at his weak joke, and he laughed. “Breakfast is at eight. Down the hall, take a left. I have some people in from out of town, so we’ll eat in my formal breakfast nook. I expect your best behavior. Zander will escort you. I trust you’ll make yourself at home until then.” He closed the door behind him with an echoing thud.
Eleni felt the tension melt from her body, and she slumped down on the edge of the bed. Mallaki was an intense man. She felt totally drained from the encounter, and she hadn’t even attempted to use her power yet. What would happen when she did?
Alec paced half the distance of the warehouse, then returned to where Stephanos sat, poring over some papers, waiting for him to go over the final details of the plan.
Tired of delay tactics, Alec stalked over and planted his hand on the table directly in front of Stephanos. “I’ll need a gun.”
“A gun may help you get Eleni back, but it won’t stop Mallaki.” Stephanos swiveled and studied him. “You’re a descendant of Apollo. You’ll need a bow and arrow.”
Alec scoffed. “Sure. How about a sword and shield while we’re at it.”
“I was right about the healing, wasn’t I?”
The question didn’t require an answer.
“I’m right about the bow and arrow, too. Grecian Antiquities at the Village Gate should have what you need. Do you need to write that down?”
Alec’s temples throbbed. Stephanos was serious. “I know how to get there.”
“Go to the motel, get yours and Eleni’s things, then as soon as it’s daybreak, head to the Village Gate. Call me when you’re done at Grecian’s. I’ll meet you back here, then we’ll proceed to the airport.”
“What about security? I think they may have a problem with a bow and arrow.”
Stephanos gave an impatient wave. “We have a private jet, private arrangements. It’s all taken care of.”
Eleni had said Mallaki’s fingers ran deep. Obviously, so did Stephanos’s.
Stephanos continued. “In the meantime, I’ll contact our people in Miami, and prepare them for your arrival.” He paused. “Keep an open mind, Alec. That’s the only way we’re going to get Eleni back.”
“Pass the butter, won’t you, darling?” Mallaki shot Eleni a challenging smile, almost daring her to correct his endearment in front of his special breakfast guests.
Eleni cringed. How could he expect her to play hostess to his friends and respond to him civilly? But she didn’t have much choice, did she?
Six men were gathered around an ornate marble table, three on each side, Mallaki at one head, she at the other. Colorful bowls of grapefruit and oranges sat in the center of the table, and a heaping platter of French toast was making its round. The spicy scents of cinnamon, maple, and vanilla infused the air.
Forcing a pleasant expression, she did as Mallaki asked and handed the sculpted yellow lamb to the man seated next to her, aware Mallaki was watching her every move.
Thanos’s fingers brushed the top of her hand, then lingered there. Thanos was one of Mallaki’s more arrogant houseguests. A descendant of Ares, he wore a permanent, aggressive scowl. The touch was no accident.
Eleni glanced up and watched as Mallaki’s gaze narrowed. She tugged her hand back, then stared down at her plate.
How did he expect her to eat when she was forced to be here? Which wouldn’t be for long. All she had to do was find the right moment to escape.
“Eleni.” Mallaki’s voice was sharp.
She raised her head to find all the men staring at her. “Yes?”
“I’ve spoken your name twice.” Displeasure was written all over Mallaki’s face. If he suspected she was thinking about escaping...She didn’t want to push him into any rash action against her to prove a point.
“Sorry. I was enjoying the food.” She slid a savory piece of French toast between her lips, then slowly removed the fork.
A couple men smiled, and one man’s jaw dropped open. Mallaki drummed his fingers on the tabletop, clearly not pleased with her antics. But what did he expect after attempting to make a fool out of her? That she’d sit there and take it? Maybe he hadn’t been around enough of her cousins to know they weren’t empty-headed twits. She had a brain and knew how to use it to get what she wanted.
Chapter 11
Standing in the center of the drab motel room he and Eleni had shared, Alec felt suddenly alone. He’d gotten used to Eleni at his side these past, what? Not even forty-eight hours. Damn. He ran a hand through his hair.
Packing up Eleni’s belongings was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. An image of her begging for understanding constricted his chest, making it difficult to draw a breath. He hadn’t believed her, and now she was gone, literally disappearing into thin air.
Think we can do her first? A spear of anxiety sliced through Alec. Were those same men at Mallaki’s?
In a daze, Alec dropped onto the edge of the bed and lowered his head into his hands. Eleni had
to be all right.
If he hadn’t been so rude to Mallaki, would he have taken her?
Limbs heavy, he forced himself to continue gathering Eleni’s things, then tossed them alongside his few items into the duffel bag he’d picked up at Target. A comforting notion struck him. By the time he got to Miami, his clothes would smell like Eleni.
He shoved aside thoughts of Eleni’s soft, contagious smile and gentle touch and pushed them to the far corner of his mind. Obsessing about missing her would help no one. Finding and freeing her would.
Tugging out his cell phone, he mentally rehearsed what he’d say to his mom. She was already worried enough, and he certainly didn’t want to add to her misgivings. “Hi, Mom.”
“Alec. How nice to hear from you again so soon.”
He felt a familiar stab of guilt at the joy in her voice and vowed to call once a week from now on. “Did you make it to Aunt May’s?”
“Yes. She’s right here. She says—”
“What about Nick? Have you been able to reach him?”
“No.” She paused a beat. “What’s wrong? I can tell you’re upset.”
“If you get a hold of him, have him call me immediately.”
“I will. Promise you’ll be careful. I’ve had one of my feelings.”
This time he didn’t roll his eyes. Throughout his childhood, his mother would periodically get strong feelings something bad was going to happen and tell him and Nick to be extra careful. They’d always written her off as being overprotective, until the day they’d ignored her and ended up locked in Susie Sjork’s old fruit cellar. Twenty-four hours passed in the dank, smelly basement before a neighbor had heard them yelling for help.
Today at the warehouse, Stephanos had asked whether any other members of his family possessed the ability to see the future. He’d replied no, but maybe his mother did. Before that fateful day, he and Nick had always chalked her feelings up to female intuition, but after spending the night cold and scared, they’d always paid attention whenever she told them to be extra careful.
“Alec?” His mom’s tone had gone sharp with fear. “I want you to promise to take care of yourself.”
“I promise.”
“I—”
“Sorry, Mom. Got to run. Love you.”
He closed his eyes against the thought of his mom worrying about his safety. All those years of looking out for her after Dad died, then college, his career. He made it home for Christmas, most of the time, unless there was a significant weather system coming through and he wanted to be the one to report it.
Next he called Cheryl and asked her to connect him to Klingerman, that it was important. He was brusque, to the point of being rude.
When he heard Klingerman pick up, Alec started speaking. “A family emergency has come up. I’ll be out a few more days.” Though he’d gone over it several times in his head and even once out loud, the words ended up coming out flat. Not exactly a lie. It was a family emergency; just an extended part of his family.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Klingerman sounded genuinely concerned.
Alec relaxed his grip on the cell phone. Maybe this wouldn’t go as badly as he’d envisioned.
“Stenton’s had to fill in for you.”
He bit back a groan. Of all the replacements they could have found. Stenton had an abrasive manner that put everyone on edge. The tension on the set was palpable even to the viewers, making the news almost painful to watch.
“I can assure you, sir, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to. Until recently, I’ve only missed one day in the eleven years I’ve been at the station.”
“Yes, yes, I’m aware of that. I’m also aware that Eleni Katsakis took a personal day, but hasn’t called in since. I don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you?”
Hearing her name nearly brought Alec to his knees with fear. Where was she? Was she okay? “I’m not with her, if that’s what you’re asking.” Finally, he sounded like he was telling the truth.
There was a brief silence.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the government wanting to know your whereabouts?”
Alec felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. The men Mike had seen were with the government? Had they connected him to Amalgamated?
“I don’t know what you mean.” His voice came out cold, hard.
Silence stretched on for several uneasy seconds before Klingerman finally broke it. “You’ve done a good job for us, Alec. I want to end on decent terms. Just be sure to get me that global warming report, and I’ll release you from your contract. You’ll be free to go to CNN. But don’t think for one minute that I won’t hold you back if you renege on this deal.”
A good job? Hell, he’d done a great job for the station, garnered stellar reviews. “You’ll have the report.”
When things got settled, he’d have to make it up to Klingerman as best he could.
Settled? A feeling bordering on panic swept through Alec, increasing his heart rate, making his palms sweat. Would his life ever return to normal again?
He’d promised Klingerman he’d finish the global warming piece. He had most of the research done, but would he have time to complete it?
Four hours to work on the plane, then what? When could he find the time? He had to, or CNN would be lost to him.
But, if he didn’t pursue his current course of action, Eleni would be lost to him, too. Perhaps forever.
Chapter 12
The Village Gate Mall, a former warehouse on Goodman, fit the kind of place that would appeal to Stephanos and his crowd. The unique shops didn’t pander to today’s trendy stores, and Alec had to admit, the place suited him as well.
He had no trouble locating Grecian Antiquities on the second floor, next to the Bop Shop, a popular local music store specializing in collectible vinyl records.
Two ornate plaster columns stood on either side of the faux marble entrance to Grecian Antiquities. Faint strains of string instruments accompanied by a light-hearted flute issued from somewhere inside the specialty shop.
A short, rotund man wearing a white toga burst from the back room. The sheet-like robe fastened over one shoulder, revealing an obscene amount of curly chest and arm hair; not exactly the kind of uniform that inspired trust. As the man hustled around the front counter, Alec had the fleeting hope the man wore underwear. “Zorba?” Stephanos had provided the contact’s name, but little else.
“Like my father before me and his before him.” The man clasped his pudgy hands together. “At your service.”
“Stephanos sent me.”
Was it his imagination or did Zorba’s face light with excitement? “Are you one of his men?”
He was no one’s man and intended to stay that way. “I’m new.”
“Yes, yes. He must think you have the gift.” Zorba struck a dramatic pose. “Can you guess my ancestor?”
Alec didn’t want to insult the stout man, but suspected Zorba’s forefather must have had something to do with food or ale. Which god was that?
“I’ll give you a hint.” He rubbed his stomach.
Alec shook his head. “Sorry.”
A smile split Zorba’s broad face. “No matter. You don’t know the ancestors yet, but you soon will.” He dropped his pose. “So, what are you in the market for?” Circling, Zorba seemed to be examining him from every angle. “No. Wait. Let me guess.”
He opened his mouth.
“Don’t say a word. I’ll only be a minute.” The man disappeared into the back, then emerged with a large, dual-edged axe. He offered the antique to him.
Alec hefted the weapon. Damn, the thing was beautiful, but heavy, its handle made of solid mahogany, the blade of fine steel, an intricate design etched along the center of the blade.
“A fine weapon, to be sure, but—”
“Not a descendent of Ares.” Zorba frowned and took the axe back. “Let’s see.” He dropped the axe to the floor with a dull thud, then leaned the handle against th
e wall.
“I’m looking for a bow and arrow.”
The man’s face fell.
Alec felt a stab of guilt at having put an end to Zorba’s game. Chances were he didn’t get many customers coming into such a unique shop. A thought struck him. “Are all your customers descendants?”
Zorba shrugged. “I get some people who are curious about the culture. A couple teachers who buy books and small replicas for use in the classroom. That pays the rent. As for the weapons, uh, wall decorations, they’re strictly reserved for the descendants.”
Alec clamped his mouth shut to keep it from falling open. He’d stepped out of his normal life as meteorologist Alec Andrews into a world he didn’t recognize as his own. How could such a sub-culture exist without becoming public?
“You’ll need to come with me.” Zorba gestured toward the back of the dimly lit shop.
He hesitated. What if this were a trap?
Zorba laughed. “No need to be afraid here. If Stephanos sent you for a bow and arrow, you’re far more powerful than I.”
Alec followed Zorba down a dark corridor, half expecting someone to jump out at him. He surveyed the weaponry lining the corridor, feeling like he’d stepped back in time. Gorgeous gold and silver blades of all sorts and sizes adorned the concrete walls, seeming to beckon him to try them out.
They stopped about midway down where Zorba picked a bow out of a glass-topped display case mounted on the wall. “Let’s start with this one.” He held out the nearly five-foot wooden piece.
He hadn’t handled a bow and arrow since high school phys. ed., where his first attempt had landed his arrow in the ceiling of the gymnasium.
Zorba seemed to be studying him carefully. “Hand-made by a master bowyer. Crafted out of yew wood. One of the best.”
Alec had to admit the piece was beautiful, with minute hand-carved pictures along the handle. “Nice. Got arrows?”
The pudgy little man plucked some wooden arrows with five-inch feathers from the same case and handed them to him.
