Apollo's Gift (The Greek Gods Series)

by Sandy Rowland

  “Okay. Now I’m uncomfortable.” And his reference to “boyfriend” caused her to wonder if Apollo would barge in. Not that he was her boyfriend, but he didn’t seem to listen to her on that point. She casually glanced around the room for blue eyes emitting fire.

  “Why? Everyone does it. I’m just honest about it.” That lopsided grin spread over his mouth. “Like you didn’t look me up before tonight?”

  “Maybe a little.” He did have a point. “How much digging did you do?”

  “Enough to know that you’re a quiet girl, a serious student, and someone I’d like to know better.”

  All true. But she was still annoyed by his need for control. “Do you always order for your dates without asking them? And what is the Stampede?”

  John tossed peanut shells onto the floor. “Just habit on the order. The Stampede is a platter stacked high with ribs, grilled steak and chicken. I’m a carnivore.”

  Habit? Did he bring a lot of girls here? Good thing she wasn’t a vegetarian, she’d starve with this guy. Cassie dropped her paper napkin in her lap feeling irritation roll in her gut. “Do you frequent this place?”

  John shrugged. “It’s close to my apartment and I like the décor. Very low key.”

  Low key didn’t begin to describe the design. Cassie glanced at the stuffed two-headed calf displayed on the far wall and shuddered. “It’s unique.”

  “I thought you’d like it.” John grinned and crumbled peanut shells between his fingers, littering the table with fine dust. “You’re not like other girls.”

  She felt another of his flirtatious lines coming on. It was flattering that he bothered, but she preferred honesty and a direct approach. “How am I different?”

  “I’m not sure, but there’s something about you.” He tossed a shelled nut into his mouth. “You’re sweet, for one thing, and you know how to dress for a first date. None of that fancy outfit ‘I’m trying to impress you’ garbage. Jeans say ‘take me as I am’. I like that.”

  What a dichotomy, an ambitious man that avoided pretension. “I didn’t realize I was making a statement.” She scanned John’s green marine t-shirt. His tan biceps bulged beneath the short sleeves. “What are you saying with your shirt, that you’re an ex-marine?”

  His lips widened to that lopsided grin. “Nope. That I need to do laundry.”

  Cassie couldn’t help but smile. John’s teasing fed her need to play. It had been far too long since she’d relaxed with a man and had a good time. Who said it had to become a relationship?

  The server brought their salads and the band started up.

  “These guys are perfect,” said John. “What they lack in talent they make up for in volume.”

  “You like them?”

  “Sure.” The twang of country guitar reverberated from the small stage.

  “What?” This wouldn’t work. “I can’t hear you,” she mouthed.

  John snatched his plate, left his side of the booth, and scooted in beside her. “How’s this?”

  His hot breath tickled her ear, sending shivers down to her toes. John was cute, fun, and a lifeline to normal. She nodded, afraid her voice would squeak a reply. His clean scent wrapped around her like a warm towel fresh from the drier. Breathing in, she filled her lungs with him and memorized the perfume of rugged man and soap. Cassie stared at his eyes, but her gaze drifted to the space between his firm jaw and straight nose. His mouth intrigued her as he spoke, but she couldn’t focus on the words. Each movement of his delectable lips distracted her mind. Imagination took over and she visualized how his mouth would feel on hers. Would his kiss be soft or firm and demanding?

  “Well?” John stared at her, apparently expecting an answer.

  Damn. In her stupor she’d missed everything he’d said. Heat crept up her neck. “Say again?”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “You didn’t hear anything I said, did you? My bad. The music is too loud. If it’s okay with you, we can get the food to go and enjoy a quiet dinner at my apartment.”

  He had her full attention. “Your place?” Imaginings of his soft lips pressing hers, crowded her mind. She swallowed. Visions of his strong arms around her and that longed for moment when he took her to his bed. Damn, she was doing it again. Focus. Hadn’t she been hurt enough by men? Did she have to act like an out of control teenager? Get a grip.

  She shouldn’t consider a relationship with John. Somehow she’d drive him away just as she’d done with every other guy. He’d leave her with a fresh, gaping wound to her self-esteem. Did she have a talent for picking men unable to commit? Not a pleasant thought. And there was that red flag, his need to make connections. He’d denied that his objective was to meet her dad, but she’d been lied to before. Eric had lied. Or could her mom be right, and men wanted a goddess that looked like sex on stilettos rather than someone real to build a life with? Her stomach sank. She hoped not.

  Cassie took a long look at Mr. Hottie. He was ambitious. Ambition didn’t guarantee that he wasn’t interested in her. What if John was different from the men in her past? She could give him a chance. If he were still around in another month, she could sum up her feelings and see if a relationship added up. For the time being, her bruised ego could use some male attention from a normal guy. She scanned left and right and listened for that domineering god to object. Nothing. Not so much as a whisper. She let out a breath in relief. “Going to your apartment is a great idea.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Apollo unbuttoned his navy jacket and scanned the restaurant for Cassandra, wincing when a man on stage bellowed lyrics to a depressing tune. Did this noise pass for music in this new age? He didn’t care for it. Too loud. It lacked the serene appeal of the lyre or the jovial lilt of flute and drum. His ears throbbed. Oh, that Zeus would allow him to remove offensive mortals, and then the musicians’ assault would end. Still, a god had some options. Apollo glared at the man as he tortured another song. The mortal coughed, gasped and fell silent. Ah, peace. Rendering the players mute for an hour would do no harm.

  Scanning the space, the debris on the ground made him wonder if they kept livestock within. The shreds on the ground didn’t look like straw and no offensive animal odors filled his nostrils. Apollo smelled beer and charred meat, and underneath it all, the soft scent of almond oil. He honed in on the tantalizing fragrance, knowing it must belong to his wayward Cassandra. He rolled his shoulders and strode toward the compelling aroma. He spied her. Cassandra’s lovely mouth formed an “oh”. Apollo licked his lips. Such a mouth needed kissing and so many other activities.

  His reverie was short-lived. The rodent sat beside her, his head dipped close to her ear as if whispering seductive words. Every muscle in Apollo’s body tightened. He’d never felt such irritation. There had to be flames shooting from his eyes. Cassandra’s violet orbs widened and she slid back from the offender. Wise girl. Those who angered a god could be struck by lightning.

  He’d been shackled against smiting the man, but Cassandra didn’t know it, and he’d use her fear of his retaliation to end her dalliance with the creature. He’d order the man away and then he’d make Cassandra listen to him, as Artemis had suggested.

  Apollo strode toward the table, determined to act above the frustration gnawing at his insides. He planted himself before them, legs spread and his hands on his hips. “There you are.”

  The man turned and raised his brows in question. “And who are you?”

  How dare this creature address him with such casual disrespect. Impudent excuse for mortal flesh. Heat surged through Apollo’s limbs. With a bit of focus, he could singe the weasel’s hair, or what remained of it. Apollo directed his remarks to Cassandra. “It’s time to leave.”

  The rodent stood and glared at Apollo. “Look, the lady is with me. Got it?”

  Cassandra tugged at the man’s arm and peaked around his side. Her eyes flashed from violet to dark purple. “What are you doing here?”

  The lump of flesh glanced at her. “You know thi
s guy?”

  “Not by choice.” She glared at Apollo.

  “Oh.” The insect hardened his stare on Apollo. “You’re the loser that can’t take no for an answer. Get lost, Goldilocks. She’s not interested.”

  As a boy, Apollo had watched in disgust as Hades had pulled the legs from marsh flies for sport. As a rule, he didn’t agree with torturing lesser creatures, but in this instance the practice carried some appeal. Unfortunately, Zeus wouldn’t agree. Apollo refused to acknowledge the gnat. “Cassandra, we discussed this.”

  “There was no discussion. You decreed, like you always do.” She shot arrows at him with her eyes. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  The man puffed up his chest. “Are you leaving or do we need to take this outside?”

  With a glare, Apollo could burn the man’s skin: with focus he might scar him, blind him, or castrate the dog. The creature deserved it. By all the gods, he couldn’t put up with much more of this. “Mortal, you try my patience.”

  “Cassie wasn’t kidding.” The rodent smirked. “You really do have a god complex.”

  “Enough,” he growled. “No puny mortal dares to speak to me thus and live.” Apollo ground his teeth to curb the curse forming on his lips. He’d sworn to Zeus, but…

  * * *

  John swayed and fell back, wedging Cassie into the booth. His brown eyes were glassy as marbles. She pressed her fingers against his neck and checked for a pulse: strong and regular. Good. He might be okay, or at least she hoped so. Her relief for John’s welfare argued with her anger. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Apollo cocked his head. “Me? It’s impossible for anything to be wrong with me. I’m a god.”

  “Oh please.” Cassie rolled her eyes at him. “Trust me, there’s room for improvement.” She strained to push John into an upright position. “You could help,” she grumbled.

  The god waved his hand and John sat up, faced forward and then stared sightless at the opposing seat. Apollo perused the man and made a derisive grunting noise.

  Cassie narrowed her gaze at Apollo as he took the seat opposite her. “Make John as he was.”

  “Calm yourself. There’s no harm to him. I’ll waken him after you listen to me.”

  “The only thing I want to hear is the sound of your shoes scuffing the floor on your way out. Make it fast.”

  His lips pinched together. “You belong to me. It’s time you accepted your position as my consort and stopped debasing yourself with this man.”

  “How dare you,” she breathed. “I belong to no one and I’m not your plaything.”

  He smiled.

  Was he even listening or was he mocking her? “You’ll change your mind,” he said

  Mocking. “The hell I will. I’ll never change my mind. You’re a spoiled child that abuses power. Look at what you’ve done to John.” She pointed at his rigid body and the drool escaping the corner of his mouth. “Why on earth would I choose to be with you?”

  He chuckled, infuriating her more. Apollo had used his exceptional good looks and the kisses shared in her dreams to manipulate her. That was over. “Don’t laugh at me.”

  “You were serious?”

  “Ugh. Don’t I look serious?”

  He focused his blue gaze on her face and nodded. “I thought you wanted to make a game of winning you.”

  “Game,” she said overly loud, and noticed inquisitive looks leveled in their direction. She lowered her voice. “This is my life. God or not, I’m the one deciding how I live it, and it’s not as your consort or girlfriend.”

  His usual glow dimmed along with his arrogant attitude. “And my suit?”

  “What about it?”

  “I wore it for you.” His brows raised and he wore a hopeful puppy dog look.

  She breathed in the smell of smoky barbecue combined with honeyed Apollo and exhaled slowly. He was making an effort to win her. She might find it sweet if he hadn’t turned her life upside down and changed John into a zombie. Why did Apollo have to look at her that way, all sincere and contrite, with piercing azure eyes that melted her resolve and cooled her anger? Damn. “The suit is very nice.”

  He reached across the table and took her hand. His gentle touch warmed her skin. “I care for you, Cassandra.”

  Her mouth went dry. Apollo was wrong for her on so many levels. How could she entertain the desire coursing through her veins? Had she cared for him before in that other life? A tremor ran up her spine. Was that fear or affirmation? No. She refused to think it. Apollo was beyond difficult and she had an embassy to save and then get back to the real world and her life. “Return John as he was.”

  “Why? I prefer him like this.”

  “I don’t.” She glanced at Apollo’s large hand covering hers, his thumb lightly feathered over her palm, sending tingles up her arm. Stop it and focus. “John is a normal guy. We’re having a normal dinner. It’s what people do. Don’t interfere.”

  “I have no intention of interfering where the prophecy is concerned, but this mortal… look at him.” Apollo ran his gaze over John and shook his head. “He’s beneath you. Only a weak mind is so easily controlled.”

  “Stop it.” She spit the words. “I’ve had enough of your controlling ways. I’ve had enough of people’s control, period. I called my dad and warned him. What more can I do? I can’t make him believe me or force him to act.” She scowled. “Dad’s calling me tomorrow and then I’m done with it.”

  The muscles in his jaw worked. “Not so. This is only the beginning. My gift lasts your lifetime.”

  She gasped. “I didn’t agree to that. You trapped me.”

  “I saved you.”

  “Ha. You’d say anything to get your way.”

  “I know the future. Assisting mortals against destruction is what the gods of Olympus strive for. It’s the decree of Zeus, as long as we don’t act ourselves in the affairs of men.”

  “And what do you call this?” She nodded toward John. “And what about my life? You’ve acted plenty. I have yet to see you use self control.”

  Apollo ran his tongue over his upper lip in a slow swipe that curled her toes. “Cassandra, without restraint, I’d reduce this mortal to a grease stain beneath my shoe and teach you the delights of my bed.”

  Heat radiated from Cassie’s face and she swallowed. If she were open to unbridled sex without the promise of anything more, then Apollo might be her man, but she wasn’t. Fantasy was one thing, but in real life she insisted on having a committed relationship. Gods didn’t commit to mortals and Apollo was a god. He’d leave her sooner or later and she’d had enough of that. “Fine. You have a smidgen of restraint. Now, what can you do to protect the embassy?”

  “I’ve done it. You have inspiration to guide you.”

  “That’s it?” Cassie pulled her hand from Apollo’s grasp. “What good is a god if he can’t help?”

  He tugged at his shirt collar and narrowed his gaze. “I can guide you to the truth and show you the future. Men have paid a high price for this knowledge. ”

  “Can you change what will happen?”

  “That power belongs to men.”

  “Ugh. So you can’t do anything.” Her body trembled with anger. She’d like to slap him for putting her in this position. “You rotten SOB. Find someone else to save the embassy, because I’m done.”

  Apollo’s pale gaze darkened. “You test me. Part of my agreement for your release from the underworld was your being my prophetess. There can be no other. Zeus himself agreed to the terms.”

  “Did I ask to be released?”

  “You wept in misery.” He lowered his eyes as if he dare not look at her.

  “I’m sure Cassandra cried her eyes out in the underworld after Troy fell, and she was raped and murdered, but I’m betting she got over it after three thousand years.”

  “You never ‘got over it’ as you call it. Your suffering played before me until I had to act.”

  “Stop,” Cassie grumbled, and rested her head in her ha
nds. Her ebony tresses fell over her face like a black curtain. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

  She might end the conversation, but ancient history mingled with her dreams and played in her mind. Horror after horror until Cassandra’s murder—no—my murder. A tear escaped her eye and ran beside her nose. She lifted her head and focused her bleary gaze on Apollo. “Tell me one thing. Will the embassy fall?”

  * * *

  A strange sensation squeezed his heart. Watching her pain added to his growing discomfort. He’d felt for humanity’s suffering on occasion, but none had affected him more than Cassie’s single tear.

  She’d received his gift. And like his ancient Cassandra, Cassie couldn’t avoid its violent intrusion into her life. But he could prepare her for it.

  “You’ve seen the attack?”

  Cassie nodded and swiped at her nose with a paper napkin. “Not everything. It fades before the outcome.”

  Even with her red eyes and nose, she captivated him. Apollo reached out and laid his hand on her wrist. “There’s a reason you didn’t experience the end. It means the prophecy might be altered.”

  “Altered? But how?” she sniffed.

  “When the vision takes you, what happens?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m part of the action and experience every terrifying moment.”

  John teetered and fell forward, his head thudding on the table. She gave Apollo a frigid stare. “Well?”

  He breathed out in frustration. “He’s fine as he is.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not fine with it.”

  Apollo glanced at John and he again sat up. His forehead showed a large red mark. Apollo crinkled his brow. “He’s going to have a headache.” He fished ice from the water glass, wrapped it in a napkin and handed it to Cassie. “For the bruise.”

  “Thanks.” Cassie took the cold wad of napkins and pressed them to the red spot.

  Apollo continued. “Stand back from the vision. Living it is optional.”

  Her violet eyes widened. “It’s possible to watch and not be overcome by it all?”