“And simultaneously terrifying.” The bartender, a tall native looking man Destiny didn’t know, dropped their drinks off and scowled at her when she attempted to leave a tip. Destiny and Janice toasted and looked back out at the dance floor at the outrageous Fiona.
Destiny sipped her beer, chuckled, and said a silent prayer for the two men.
It wasn’t too long before another man approached. This one was a wolf but not a local, unless he’d just joined the pack. She never bothered to question it, but over the last three years, Destiny had become friendly with the men and women of the local shifters. Their existence was an open secret, but one she didn’t plan to share, not even with her friends.
“Ladies,” the tall, dark skinned and delicious man said, greeting them both, though his gaze never left Janice’s face. “Tell me you like to dance.”
“I do, but…” Janice glanced at Destiny, the expression somewhere between protectiveness and regret.
“Girl, please.” Destiny gave her friend a huge, sincere smile. “Dance. Have fun.”
Once she was alone, she recalled Cai’s words and his little nickname for her. Mouse. Sure, she usually didn’t concern herself with the opinions of others, but wow.
“Another beer?” The shorter of the two bartenders glanced down at the still half-full bottle in her hand.
“No, I’m good.” This boisterous party wasn’t her thing, but she was still pleased with herself that she’d been there twenty minutes and hadn’t dashed home to her book.
Instead of running off like the creature she’d been compared to tonight, Destiny partook in one of her favorite activities—people watching. And wow, there were more than a few characters in attendance. However, after a few moments it occurred to her that all the men—or should she call them males—were shifters, as well as a dozen or so of the women.
Unlike most of the people in the room, Destiny didn’t have supernatural powers, magic, or anything special, but she could sense things. And when it came to shifters, their auras seemed to float around them in the shape of their animal. As she leaned against the bar nodding her head to Nirvana’s “Lithium,” Destiny admired the graceful dancers. The crowd consisted of mostly wolves, but a few bear-shifters, and even some kind of big cat was out there getting their groove on with the human women.
Interesting.
The distinctive ding, ding, ding of old-school pinball machines caught her attention, and she made a beeline in the direction of the sound. Back in her childhood home in Denver, her parents had created a cool game room, complete with pinball machines, Ms. Pacman, and Foosball.
The night was looking up after all.
Once the crowd parted, she spotted her very favorite game and shimmied with excitement. Dr. Dude had to be the best pinball machine of all time. Once her mother tired of Destiny running to the arcade every day after school, they’d bought one for the game room. Best present ever. Her crew could dance the night away, because she’d found her date for the evening, and he came with bells and flashing lights.
Destiny was so focused on the good doctor she didn’t notice the man until she slammed into a wall of muscle. Crap. Looking up was a waste of time. Even blind, she’d be able to pick Vulcan out of a crowd by scent alone. Everything about the man worked for her on some level.
And it wasn’t reciprocated.
She allowed herself—no, her body seemed to have some kind of crazy need for torture. Her gaze traveled up his broad chest, pausing to appreciate his dark, neatly-trimmed beard. The hair was black with hints of auburn and it looked so soft she wondered what it would feel like against her inner thighs. Okay… moving on. She meant to look into his eyes and give him a nonchalant and sophisticated smile, but her gaze got stuck on those perfect lips. Tight, frowning lips.
Yikes.
Vulcan lowered his perfect mouth to her ear and whispered, “What the hell are you doing here?”
She couldn’t tell whether her body vibrated because he stood so close, or whether it was because she wanted to punch him in the nuts. Why the hell did he have to smell so good? Maybe if he smelled like funk and motor oil she wouldn’t want to rip his clothes off.
Focus.
Remember he’s an asshole, and you’re Destiny version one-point-five. She steeled her spine and turned her head, brushing her cheek against his whiskers in the process. And yes, the beard was as soft as it looked. Why? Why of all the souls walking the earth did hers have to crave this… asshole?
“And hello to you, too,” she said, hoping the sarcasm was sharp enough to slice through Vulcan’s sour expression.
He bristled and pulled back. His indigo eyes seemed darker and more dangerous. And she didn’t give a hoot. She didn’t understand… hell, anything when it came to him. He was everything she shouldn’t want but couldn’t stop herself from craving. And occasionally when they were in the gallery she imagined she saw a flash of something in his eyes that could maybe even be desire.
Now, standing there surrounded by a zillion people, she felt, for the first time, as though they were alone. It seemed intimate and as close to something real as they’d ever had outside of business.
“I just wanted to—” Destiny began, but whatever she’d planned to say was immediately forgotten when a woman, the perfect ying to his yang, smiled at Destiny and wound her arms around Vulcan’s waist, tucking herself against his body.
“Hey, there,” the woman purred looking up at Vulcan like she knew what he looked like naked.
Destiny hated her immediately.
At least she wanted to. But damn it if the woman didn’t seem nonplussed and freaking friendly.
“Mandy, Mouse, Mouse, Mandy,” Vulcan said, his lips barely moving.
“What a cute nickname,” the perfect, and apparently nice, Mandy said with a smile.
Sure. Being compared to a timid creature at the bottom of the food chain was adorable. “Thanks,” Destiny said, wondered if pulling Mandy’s beautiful hair out by the roots would make her an enemy of the pack.
“You were about to tell me why the fu—” Vulcan stopped, cleared his throat, then continued. “You were going to tell me why you decided to come here of all places?” He stared at Destiny as if waiting for her to spout sonnets.
This was painful. She’d tried to play it cool, but Vulcan had to know she was attracted to him. No, she hadn’t said anything. And no, she couldn’t just step into the twenty-first century and ask him out. But if the wolves were aware, so was Vulcan. For him to stand there and treat her like some interloper stung.
Did he think… No, he didn’t think she was here because of him, did he? Pathetic she may be, but a stalker?
Screw him.
“Why not?” she asked. They weren’t friends, they were barely acquaintances, and after the way he’d ignored her messages last night, even calling him an acquaintance was an overstatement. In her mind, she’d built him up to be a tragic hero.
In reality, he was a big fat jerk. Only she’d been too caught up in her fairytale to see the truth.
“You two enjoy your night,” Destiny said, smiling at Mandy. The woman must have the patience of a saint to put up with Vulcan.
Mandy returned the smile, and Destiny turned and walked away, not wanting a reminder of how perfect biker Ken and Barbie looked standing together.
Crap. Maybe she should have reminded him about the vases, she thought as she walked away. All the other stuff was personal. This was about business. Destiny turned as Vulcan, king of the douche bros, lowered his mouth to Mandy’s.
Chapter 5
The ladies’ bathroom, like the rest of the club, was surprisingly clean and modern. And if her heart weren’t breaking, Destiny may have taken the time to appreciate it. She pressed her hands against the utilitarian, but pretty, stained concrete counter with the hammered stainless-steel sink mounted below it.
Yes, that’s what she focused on. Because her stupidity had made her nauseous.
She knew it. She shouldn’t have come tonig
ht. In all honesty, what happened out there hadn’t been Vulcan’s fault. Especially since he’d never shown anything other than professional interest in her.
This was all one-sided and frankly unhealthy. “I am such an idiot,” she murmured to the sink.
“Honey, you alright?”
Destiny squeaked and jerked as if she’d been dealt the second blow of the night. Where in the heck had this woman, if one so gorgeous was a mere mortal, come from? Destiny looked closer, opening that part of her that saw the unexplainable.
Oh. This woman was no mere mortal. “No, I’m good.” Except for the small fact that the man she’d had an insane crush on saw her as little more than a nuisance.
“Sweetheart,” the woman began, shrugging and leaning against the sink next to Destiny. “I recognize that look. Seen it enough times in my own mirror.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
“Don’t let the smooth taste fool you. My heart is just as fragile as yours. Who broke it?”
Destiny looked at the stranger. Really looked at her. Definitely not human, but not shifter either. Her dark skin was flawless, and her makeup was beat. It was one of those looks that took hours to appear natural. But those clothes…
Wow. How those men out there had allowed her out of their sight was insane. Or maybe she’d slipped into the ladies’ room to escape the excess testosterone.
“I’m Oshun, and you are?”
“Destiny. Pleased to meet you.” Destiny turned to the sink, washed her hands, and made the mistake of studying her reflection. Dull. Plain. Mousy. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m heading out.”
“May I be frank, Destiny?” Oshun placed her hands on her leather-clad hips.
Hips that of course couldn’t be covered by a color as blasé or plain as black or brown. No, these hips were covered in yellow leather that looked soft enough to sleep on. Once Destiny tucked away her extreme case of leather envy, she looked into a pair of bottomless and way too knowing dark brown eyes. “I have a feeling you don’t know any other way to be.”
“Truth. You’re a beautiful woman. Why on earth do you believe you need to dim your light? You, my sweet girl, were created to shine.” Oshun smiled, and holy crap, it was like the skies parted and a heavenly choir had begun to get their groove on.
And for the briefest of moments, Destiny even believed her. “Honestly, I have no idea how I slipped into this rut. It’s kind of like quicksand. I got sucked in, and the more I try to escape, the more complicated it all becomes.” She looked down at her well-trimmed but unpolished nails. “I’m good with who I am, but somewhere along the line I stopped trying.”
“Please tell me you’re not one of those women.” Destiny frowned, so Oshun continued. “You know,” she waved a hand, “one who doesn’t appreciate herself or the innate beauty in us all.”
“No.” Destiny turned away from the mirror, leaning a hip against the counter. “However, I’m fully aware I’m solidly on the average-to-cute end of the hotness scale.”
“Okay, I can work with that, but sexy is an inside job. Trust me, until you realize and honor your own worth, you’ll never attract the man you deserve. And darling, let me give you a tip. If you won’t shine for love, do it for revenge.”
“Revenge?” Destiny’s mouth went slack for a couple seconds. “So, you’re a supermodel and a comedian. Who in the world would I want to pay back?” Especially since Destiny would have to walk through the room with a deer carcass around her neck for anyone to notice.
Miss Perfect and Funny didn’t answer. Destiny looked up at the decorative ironwork over the windows and her mind drifted. What did Destiny want? This idea of change wasn’t about Vulcan, or her ex, or even her friends. She didn’t need to become a different woman, but a better version of herself.
“Do I really need to answer that?” Oshun tilted her chin down and gave Destiny a strict auntie glare. “Any man too blind to recognize you for the gem you are. Baby girl, consider me your fairy godmother.”
“I’ve read the Grimm versions of the stories, and none of those godmothers wore leather.” This had to one of the craziest things Destiny had ever considered, but every cell pushed her to take that leap. “What exactly are you talking about? I need specifics before I agree to anything.”
“Caution,” Oshun winked. “That’s a good thing.”
“Those stories didn’t usually end well for the mortals, so…”
“You are precious.” Oshun clapped her hands, and the innocent gesture made Destiny smile. “I haven’t had a girlfriend in… well, too long. Let’s shop. I want the outside to be as beautiful as the inside.”
“No magic.”
“Nothing we can’t get out of a bottle or jar.” Oshun raised her hand as though she were in court swearing an oath.
There were a million reasons she shouldn’t trust this strange but funny and nurturing woman, but she couldn’t stop herself. If the makeover flopped, maybe she’d have a new friend. Plus, Oshun and Destiny’s crew would get along smashingly. Destiny grinned and extended her hand. “Alrighty, let’s make it happen.”
“Honey, after this,” Oshun said, grabbing Destiny’s hand and pulling her in for a hug, “your life will never be the same.”
Destiny wasn’t sure if that was a good thing but sensed it wouldn’t be boring.
A pounding noise Destiny wasn’t sure came from inside or outside of her skull made her groan and pull the pillow over her head.
The pounding didn’t stop.
“You have got to be kidding me.” She subscribed to the “ignore unwanted visitors” school of thought, and it usually worked. Not today, apparently, since the jackass only knocked louder.
“This is some bullshit. Who shows up at someone’s door at…” Destiny cracked one eye open and peered at the alarm clock, “nine freaking o’clock?” The universe didn’t answer, and the interloper continued to pound. So she rolled ungraciously from her bed and headed toward her front door. “Note to self, no more champagne—ever.”
The pack shindig had been a bust. So she’d returned home and thrown a solo dance party in her living room, complete with chugging champagne from the bottle. Not her best move. Though it had seemed like a really good idea at the time.
She yanked the front door open. “What the…” A woman—no, that damned sex goddess from The Den—stood at Destiny’s door looking almost demure and completely sexy. The yellow wrap around dress she wore was so bright it scorched Destiny’s retinas. “You’re real.”
She had tried to erase a few parts of the previous night from her mind. Headlining the not so greatest memories of the evening, her humiliation both inside and outside of The Den’s bathroom.
“Don’t just stand there.” Oshun clapped her hands and Destiny numbly stepped aside. “Coffee. I need some stat.”
“Come in why don’t you?” Destiny said, closing the door behind the pushy woman. Could she toss Oshun out on her keister?
“I’m here on a mission of mercy,” the intruder said, walking toward the home’s small kitchen as if she owned the place. “And bodily removal would be most ungracious.”
“Did I actually use my outside voice?” Okay, she must still be intoxicated. The only thing she wanted to do was slide beneath her softer-than-sin sheets and go back to sleep. Destiny tugged at the hem of the Def Leppard T-shirt she’d borrowed from her brother ten years ago and glared at the woman rummaging through her cabinets.
“No, sweetie, you didn’t. And you can sleep when you’re dead.” Oshun popped one of the K-cups into the machine, grabbed two mugs, and started brewing.
Coffee did sound kind of good. A shot of Bailey’s would make it even better.
“Bailey’s does sound like a good idea. Be a sweetheart and grab it, would you?”
“Stop reading my mind. That’s rude,” Destiny mumbled as the stumbled to the pine bar in the dining room.
“You humans need to stop blaring your every thought. Have you no idea how tiring it is to block the i
ncessant chatter?”
“You humans?” Destiny asked, grabbing the bottle of Bailey’s and walked to the kitchen feeling as if she was having an out of body experience. “What exactly are you?”
“That’s a rude question.” Oshun sat the filled mug on the counter. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, and it’s no ruder than using our thoughts against us.”
“How much do you know about my world?”
“That it exists.” Destiny sipped her coffee and groaned. “This is awesome. Lately, I’m getting the feeling my small amount of knowledge is more dangerous than continued ignorance.”
“Perhaps.” Oshun sipped her Bailey’s laced coffee and sighed. “Perfect.”
“Are you a mage or something?” It was the or something part that bothered her. Like seriously, why was Jackson, Wyoming becoming a supernatural hotspot?
“I’m merely a woman who wishes to help.”
A woman—yes. Mortal… not so much. However, in her drunken stupor last night Destiny had imagined herself powerful, sexy, and confident. It was also a little freaky that those images chased her into sleep. But she needed to concentrate on the here and now. And her current state of affairs was appalling.
“Why did you accept my offer?” Oshun sipped her coffee, pausing dramatically before adding, “I’m just curious.”
“You didn’t pluck it from my mind?” Destiny raised her hand and a chuff of laughter escaped. “Don’t answer that. Seems you showed up at the right time. I’ve been examining my life the last few days, and…” She hesitated. This would be difficult to admit, not only to this pushy stranger, but to herself. She blasted ahead. “I’m a good person. I’m kind, smart, and I see things most people can’t. Honestly, I love most parts of my life. But I’m tired of being an observer. It’s past time I became a participant.”
“Good, good,” Oshun said, setting her cup on the counter, all playfulness disappearing from her demeanor. “Changing your clothes and cutting your hair won’t make you a new person.”
“We are not cutting my hair, and I don’t want to be a new person. I want to be a better, bolder version of the person I am now. The young woman who defied her family and ignored everyone’s opinions fell asleep. It’s time to wake her up.”
Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9) Page 4
