A Date of Godlike Proportions (The Blooming Goddess Trilogy Book 2.5)

by Darling, Tellulah

  Copyright © 2013 Tellulah Darling

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Published by Te Da Media, 2013

  ISBN: 978-0-9920709-2-2 epub

  ISBN: 978-0-9920709-3-9 Kindle

  Cover Design: Siobhan Devlin

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Copyright

  A Date Of Godlike Proportions

  Acknowledgments

  My Life From Hell

  About the Author

  Tellulah Darling’s Other Titles

  A Date of Godlike Proportions

  A reluctant smile passed my lips despite the tension in my shoulders. Festos was singing Motown in the shower, to kick himself awake.

  He was adorable.

  No. I didn’t think that word about people. Theo Rockman was not fanciful. Is. Is not fanciful. I’m responsible. Focused. Not the giddy lover type.

  Festos launched into his next song, humming some upbeat tune complete with electronica flourishes. Which meant he was doing what exactly to get ready for our date? Dressing? Shaving?

  I stared in the direction of his voice for a few moments.

  “Magoo,” I said to my best friend Sophie’s unconscious form, “that boy needs to learn priorities.” Now was not the time to be gallivanting off for a night out. Not with Sophie in such a vulnerable state.

  “At least your godling wants to be around you.” I imagined the fond amusement that would be in her voice even as she chastised me. “I’ll take him if you won’t.”

  I propped my legs up on the bed beside her and watched her lying there, pale, her eyes closed. Her voice was only in my head. My gut twisted. My Goddess of Spring wasn’t wired to be this silent—or this still—for this long.

  After all the supernatural attacks she’d endured, it was a regular old knife stabbing that had laid her this low. I couldn’t decide if it was ironic, or just the universe’s twisted sense of humor.

  I leaned forward and placed a hand on Sophie’s chest. Not that I thought she wasn’t breathing or anything, but she was so deeply submerged in her healing state that perhaps … I jerked my hand away as if my paranoia could infect her.

  Of course she was going to wake up. Be fine.

  Physically.

  But for all her power and strength, my best friend was a giant mass of heart and emotion. What if she’d taken one too many blows? Between the constant attacks from her father, her boyfriend walking away from her, and learning the truth about her mother? About her past? What if something so deep, so essential in this smartass had been broken in a way that all her healing powers couldn’t fix? What if she survived, but her laughter didn’t?

  My chest tightened. I should have been there watching out for her. It didn’t matter that there had been no way to predict this. My one job, the very thing I’d given up my Titan powers for was to keep her safe.

  If I hadn’t arranged for Persephone’s goddess essence to be transferred into Sophie’s newborn human form, she wouldn’t be lying here now.

  I’d sworn to protect her.

  Festos moved on to his next song. Singing like he hadn’t a care in the world. Living totally in the moment.

  I scowled. I couldn’t imagine a reality where I wasn’t thinking ten steps ahead at all times.

  Except, I had lived in the moment, hadn’t I? I’d chosen to stay with Festos that night instead of going back to Hope Park to watch over Sophie.

  My heart skipped as Sophie twitched in her slumber. I knew better now. I eased back against the chair that had become permanently attached to my butt in the last little while.

  Festos brought the song to its high-pitched conclusion. Hephaestus, God of Fire, Volcanoes, Technology, and the Billboard Top 100.

  I glanced around the guest room in his loft that was now Sophie’s new home, eyeing the closed door warily. Maybe he’d just leave us here. Alone.

  The door swung open. Festos poked his head in, and startled at the sight of me still sitting there. “Oh. Uh, right. So the shower’s free if you want it.”

  I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to leave Sophie. Didn’t want to make myself go out and have fun when there was too much to deal with. Too much to put into place and overcome if we were going to win against Zeus and Hades come Spring Equinox. Like making sure I was there when she awoke to ask her forgiveness for failing her.

  “Festos …”

  He edged into the room at my tone and a lick of heat unfurled in my gut.

  I could practically feel my eyes flash as I took in Festos’ half-dressed state. He wore black dress pants and a blue button down shirt, not at all buttoned at the moment. His rock star red-dyed hair was wet and his feet bare.

  I’d been dangerously attracted to this god the first time I’d ever seen him, and not even thousands of years and a gong show of obstacles—including his chaining me to a rock on Zeus’ orders to have my liver eaten by a vulture—could kill that. My hand absently clutched the magic chain he’d made to bind me there as I drank him in.

  He arched an eyebrow, as if my staring gave him the upper hand.

  “You’re not dressed yet?”

  Great. The cavalry had arrived. I flicked my gaze over to my other best friend Hannah, staring at me incredulously from her position in the doorway, where she had joined Festos.

  Festos patted Hannah on the shoulder affectionately before edging past her to leave.

  I reluctantly tore my eyes from his retreating figure to meet her bemused gaze.

  Allies. That’s what I needed. “There’s too much at stake right now—like your future for example—for us to be going out on a—”

  She flapped a hand at me. “Get dressed.”

  I looked down at what I was wearing. Which was basically what I always wore. A long-sleeved black T-shirt and baggy black pants. “I’m dressed.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Pierce,” she called out.

  Her boyfriend trotted into the room at her call. “Yeah, love?”

  Hannah pointed to a spot in front of me. “Stand there and look pretty, so this idiot gets the picture.”

  Pierce nodded. He got into position and, with a toss of his blond tousled head, adopted the most pouty model boy expression imaginable. He winked at me, obviously amused.

  Hannah blinked at him. “Whoa. That’s pretty … pretty.”

  “Down, Saul,” I said. “Besides, he’s the God of Love. I’m sure there’s some kind of inherent pretty built into his DNA. With me?” I cast a skeptical look down at myself. “Festos knows what he’s getting.”

  Pierce pulled up a desk chair and turned it around to straddle it.

  Hannah kicked my legs away so she could sit down on the bed next to Sophie. She picked her friend’s hand up to clasp between her own. Her lip quivered as she stared at her friend but she quickly replaced any concern with a determined glare my way.

>   She crossed her legs and leaned forward toward me. “Have you seen that boy’s room? It’s like a hurricane went off in there. He’s going nuts trying to find the perfect outfit for this special event and you can’t even get changed?” She tucked a strand of her blond hair behind her ear.

  I swung my head in Sophie’s direction. “Did you not notice your bestie lying there unconscious?”

  Her hand tightened on Sophie’s. “Don’t be an idiot. Or drag Soph into this. We’re here. Nothing else is going to happen to her. She needs to heal. And don’t pull any of that ‘fate of the universe’ crap either. It’s one night. So, next excuse. I’ll shoot that down too.”

  I closed my eyes. There was silence for a blessed moment.

  “You feel guilty, don’t you?” She spoke softly.

  I shrugged, my eyes still closed.

  I felt her make the sign of the cross over me. “I absolve you of guilt, Prometheus.”

  I gave a faint smile. “I’m not Catholic.”

  “Well, I have no idea how to absolve a Greek God.”

  “Titan,” I murmured. “And I’m not even that anymore.”

  She kicked my leg. I opened my eyes.

  “You didn’t fail her. There was no way to know that deranged cow would attack. You kept Soph safe every way you could think of.”

  “Obviously I didn’t think hard enough.”

  “I get that you feel guilty but—”

  “He does, but that’s not it.” Pierce cut her off.

  I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his all-seeing green eyes, finally looking away.

  Hannah waited for him to elaborate and when he didn’t, she shrugged. “Then what’s your problem?” she asked me.

  Just days ago, I’d left Hope Park Progressive School where I’d been playing the role of Theo Rockman, regular human, to move in with Festos and continue watching over Sophie. He and I were together 24/7 now. “Why do we need to go on a date?”

  “Is that even a question?” Pierce mused, as he slouched over the back of the chair.

  I scowled. “It’s taken us almost twenty-five-hundred years to get to a second date. That’s twenty-five-hundred years of pressure building up.”

  I flinched as I heard Festos croon the old Dean Martin hit “Ain’t That a Kick In The Head,” about lucky guys in love. “Case in point. It’s already too hyped. Too much riding on it for it to work. It doesn’t need to happen.”

  “Yeah, mate. It does.” Pierce gave me a stern look.

  I flapped my hand at him. “Because you’re not biased in matters of love.”

  He grinned. “I’m the ultimate authority on them. Which is why you are going to go get done up right and go out tonight.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Move along, before I get nasty. Or call in Aphrodite.”

  Apparently, the path of least resistance meant going on the date. I ignored the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, and went to shower.

  Ten minutes later, I stood in Festos’ room wearing brown trousers, my magic chain woven through my belt loops. I rummaged through my suitcase for a suitable shirt to wear. Who was I kidding? What possible outfit could transform me from what I was? A human teen guy. Whereas Festos wore his godness like his second skin.

  Like I had, once upon a time.

  I rubbed a hand over my face. I wasn’t Prometheus anymore. Wasn’t the guy he’d fallen in love with. I pulled out a green sweater, more viciously than necessary, wrinkling it even more in the process.

  This was as good as it was going to get, and if Festos didn’t like it … was disappointed … My chin jutted out. I shoved my arms into the sweater and whipped it over my head.

  I stopped by Sophie’s room before I went. On the off chance she’s going to wake up and bless the outing? My throat tightened and I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what I wanted at this point.

  “She’s asleep. Not much is gonna change there, mate.” Pierce didn’t even look up at my entrance. He had his nose in a hardcover copy of Neil Gaiman’s latest. “Go.”

  I hesitated. Sophie looked so small lying there.

  That pause earned me a book to the head. “Seriously?” I rubbed my temple.

  Pierce calmly got up and retrieved his book where it had fallen. “Next time, I use a laptop.”

  Hannah entered and none-too-gently pushed me from the room.

  She poked at my cheek. “Do try to smile. You can be awfully pretty when you smile.”

  I gave up and snagged my jacket from a chair, heading into the living room.

  Festos gave me a bright grin as he took my hand. He brushed a piece of lint from my jacket collar. I tried to get into the spirit.

  “What’s first?” I asked. I knew he had this date planned down to the second.

  “We set the stage with romance.” He bobbed on his toes, looking adorably excited.

  There I went with the “A” word again. Damn it. My hand shook with anxiety and I curled it into a fist.

  Festos either ignored it or didn’t notice, because placing a hand on my arm, he blinked us away.

  We landed on a beach. At sunset.

  The sky was streaked with oranges and deep purples. The water shone with a rippled iridescence.

  It was a tropical beach, and so summer in January. Even though it was sunset, and there was a slight breeze, it was still warm enough that I slung my jacket over my shoulder and rolled up the sleeves of my sweater.

  Sweat beaded along the back of my neck.

  Festos waggled his eyebrows at me. “Fancy a walk along these sandy shores?”

  Not really. I felt like I was living a bad personals ad. But this meant a lot to him, so I squeezed his hand. “Sure.”

  We strolled along the shore for a bit while Festos made inane chatter about the weather, the colors of the ocean, and what wondrous miracles of nature had combined to give the water that precise deep green hue.

  “Less like a miracle, more like pollution.”

  Festos frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  I nodded at a dead fish beached on the sand. “Unless we’re in a special world of three-eyed fish.”

  He looked intrigued and hopped over to it much like a little kid.

  I followed on his heels.

  We stood over the fish. Festos nudged it with his toe.

  The fish, about a foot long, and perfectly respectable looking aside from its extra eye, flipped over.

  I cough-laughed. The other side was, well …

  “Mangled?” Festos asked in a horrified, fascinated voice. “Melted?”

  “Good one side,” I replied in a decisive voice.

  Festos looked at me doubtfully. “Can fish be good one side? How exactly does one usefully repurpose that side?”

  I stuffed my hands into my pants pocket and considered the question. “One could … uh, oh, I know. Plasticize it. Like those Body Worlds exhibits. On one side, the beauty of the fish in life. On the other … innards.”

  Festos laughed. “That’s my boy. Always the nerd.”

  His joy was contagious. I felt a tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying relax. My shoulders dropped down from where they’d been bunched around my ears. Maybe I did need to abandon myself to this night and this guy and turn off my brain. “So what happens next on our terribly romantic—”

  “Romantically polluted,” he corrected.

  “Pollutedly wonderful beach,” I finished up. “What’s phase two of the date?”

  He scuffed his toe into the sand and then prodded the fish back over. “Ironically enough?” he grinned. “Sushi.”

  And on my laughter, he transported us to dinner.

  We stepped out a moment later onto a quiet street. A grey and glass door read “Restaurant Ninja N
ew York.” It was far cooler now. To the point that bundling back up in my jacket—which got full points for style and none for warmth—still left me in goosebumps.

  I raised an eyebrow as Festos shouldered the door open. “Ninjas, huh?”

  “Ninjas,” he confirmed with a grin.

  Huh. That was kind of cool. I could do ninjas.

  A rush of warm air hit me.

  I found myself inside a replica of a ninja village of feudal days, all wood and stone. I eyed the place in wonder. “This is awe—” I jumped back, clutching Festos’ shoulder as a black-clad ninja slid from the ceiling to thrust a blade out at me.

  My magic chain was off my belt loops and curled around my hand before I realized it.

  Festos snorted with laughter. But I didn’t mind.

  I tossed a sheepish grin at him as our host led us through narrow maze-like hallways, lit by fat, globular lanterns throwing off golden light. The host stopped in front of a rice paper and bamboo-framed wall and slid it aside to reveal a tiny room with a low table for two. A narrow window with bamboo bars was inset on the right wall.

  He motioned for us to take our seats, promising to return with tea.

  The dim lighting made the already small space feel even more intimate.

  I faced my boyfriend across the table. It was still weird to think of him that way after so many years of trying not to think of him at all.

  Surprisingly, the date progressed smoothly throughout dinner. The sheer entertainment of the meal’s presentation, including sushi served on dry ice, kept our conversation flowing. It was all good until Festos asked, “Pancakes or eggs?”

  My chopsticks paused over the piece of unagi I was about to snag. “Huh?”

  “Well,” he speared a bite of miso cod, watching me with a casualness that had to be calculated. “I’m guessing that we’re living together now? Even if you seem to be sleeping by Sophie’s bedside. Which is good. I get that. But you know, you’ll want breakfast. So, which are you? I’m Team Eggs but I can stock that awful mix crap for you if you want. Don’t expect pancakes from scratch, though. I don’t do that.”