1
Longing clung to Psi as he stood on the hotel balcony, peering across the city at the neglected temple of the Parthenon.
The bones of the building were still sturdy, holding everything aloft.
There was much wear and tear on the once pristine marble.
Psi had been there when the shrine had been lovingly carved and raised to the sky.
The temple had been built in his family’s honor in the fifth century during the time when the Greek gods had many devoted followers. But much had changed since then.
Construction was currently underway to restore the aged structure.
Pristine marble was mixed with the ancient stone of old creating an eyesore.
Steel rods were put in place to give the structure a new backbone that made it stand rigid.
It was an absolute travesty what the human race was doing to honor the memory of the gods.
“Lord Poseidon, it would be my honor and privilege to offer you pleasure tonight.”
Psi didn’t even bother to turn around to address the human woman who spoke to him. There was no point. The women were all alike. Plastic faces colored with powder. Inflated breasts, surgically flattened middles, and engorged behinds, cloaked in labels like packaged foods.
That was what was considered sexy in this age.
Dozens more just like her buzzed around the party going on in the suite behind him.
Why did they even approach him when the thought of water getting anywhere near their starched hair or their painted faces or their delicate fabrics would make them yelp and spring away from him?
“You can have me in any way you want me. And you can put it anywhere you like. Choose me and I’ll give you my complete eternal devotion,” the woman said.
Right. That was why they approached him. To offer him their devotion in exchange for immortality and riches. Unlike the temple builders of the past, modern humans gave nothing freely. But wasn’t that the way of mankind and gods? Humans only called on the gods when they wanted something.
He should’ve gotten angry at the insult of her words. First came devotion, then a god chose whether or not to bless the disciple with gifts. But he couldn’t even muster any emotion other than boredom and dissatisfaction.
“You haven’t chosen a woman in a long time,” she purred.
Her warm-blooded hand landed on his bicep making him shiver like he’d been plunged into ice-cold water.
No, that wasn’t a good comparison. He loved the feeling of cold water surrounding his body.
Or hot water surrounding him, for that matter.
This human’s touch felt like sand scratching on dry skin in the middle of a desert.
“You must be starved. I can offer you my whole soul.” Her cactus-like fingers continued their unwanted assault on his skin. But then she jerked her fingers away. “Or, perhaps, it’s men you prefer?”
Psi turned and, as expected, was met with a carbon copy of every woman at this infernal party.
Breasts pushed up to her chin in a dress that undoubtedly cost enough to feed a small, third world village for a month.
Heels so high she nearly stood on tiptoes.
His keen eyes made out the tracks in her scalp that added fake tresses.
He could barely see her eyes with all the makeup caked on her face.
In the light of so much distortion, Psi forgot his manners and reared back from her.
Finally, she took the hint and moved away from him.
Psi realized belatedly that she came to the wrong conclusion with that last mention of a man being the reason that he wasn’t interested in her affections.
But he didn’t care that she mistakenly thought he preferred his own gender in bed sport.
Whatever it took to shake free of yet another idolater.
Off in the distance, his brother Zeus was happily buried in a pile of idol worshippers.
Psi could barely make out his brother’s golden head for all of the arms and legs that surrounded the demigod, seeking his attention and favor.
Zuzu had no qualms in using the women, or men, that hung on the Olympians hoping to become Chosen.
Psi needed more than a compliment and a quick tumble to create a Chosen: a devoted worshipper of the Olympian gods. True, he was down to a few dozen Chosen. Those few had been with him for centuries, but they were all true believers—a rare thing in the human race these days.
In exchange for immortality, the Olympians fed off the human souls of the Chosen. Worship was the fuel of the gods. Without it, gods ceased to exist.
The way of the Olympians was better than what their parents, the Titans, had done in their day which had been to eat humans whole and spit out their bones. At least with this exchange, everyone got something out of the deal.
Only, Psi no longer felt the trade was even. Taking a soul left a bitter taste in his mouth these days and so he largely abstained from the practice. His siblings called him a vegan because he no longer took on any more of the living.
The headache he was experiencing now was likely from hunger, but Psi was not about to take a bite out of this bunch and wind up with an upset stomach.
Instead, he left the revelry and headed down the elevator.
The ride was long as he and his siblings lived on the top floor of the Royal Olympic Hotel.
He exited in the garage. He bypassed Zuzu’s Ferrari and Desi’s Mustang.
All three of his sisters preferred to be driven around in limos and town cars, not particularly caring for the speed certain cars afforded them.
Psi put his Stingray Corvette in gear and headed someplace where he could be alone and think.
As he drove closer to the sea and the salty air hit his tongue, he felt immeasurably better. He parked and headed down to the water’s edge. Unfortunately, like his home high in the sky at the hotel, his watery haven was also overrun by humans.
Loud music polluted the air from stereos in cars, boats, and blankets. Coeds on vacation, dressed in togas, tossed beer bottles into the sea. An older seaman pulled his prick out and pissed off the side of a boat.
Psi felt weary once more. He was thousands of years old, but he felt like he was having a midlife crisis.
There was nothing real left in this world.
He hadn’t been excited about anything in over a century.
Not even the warm-blooded women of his brothers’ parties could rouse him any longer.
Nothing could, except the cool brine of the Mediterranean.
He headed out farther along the shore, coming to sit at the edge of a pier. He dipped his toe in the cold waters and felt somewhat soothed. But not for long. Something felt wrong.
An electric current tickled the fleshy part of his toe, zipping under the toenail. He didn’t need his sight to see into the depths, but he couldn’t believe what his amphibious senses were telling him. Something magic this way came.
He should pull his foot from the sea. It felt like he would be consumed by the energy building down there. But that thought was ridiculous. He was the God of the Sea. There was nothing in the waters stronger than him.
Then the feeling tugged at him. It zipped up his leg, sloshing the indifferent fluids of his gut, and kicking his heart into gear. Off in the distance, he spotted the source of the disturbance.
A bubble crested the water. The orb was big and iridescent, like a translucent moon. It was also full, like the moon. Inside was the unmistakable shape of a woman.
The bubble burst and the woman stepped out. Well, she didn’t step. She floated. Her pale toes glided over the crests of the waves.
Her hair was as white as the moon, her skin barely a shade darker. She looked like a star in human form. What she wore on her body was another story entirely.
Psi was certain that the garish orange frock that clung damply to her body had no human designer. He couldn’t imagine anyone putting their name on such a garment. But on her pale body, somehow, it worked.
She gave a shake and the water droplets floated off her body and the garment. As the beads fell back into the sea, Psi felt a stirring in his loins. He blinked, taking more of this creature in.
Her breasts weren’t big enough to fill his hands.
Her body was more straight lines than curves.
Her face was bare of any rouging or powder, and still, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
His heart pounded in his chest, the beats growing fasting and stronger like a car turning over for the first time after being left idle all winter.
The strange woman reached down into the water and pulled out another bubble.
In that bubble was a shiny pair of red shoes.
She sat down on the surface of the water and slipped first one and then the other shoe on her foot.
She took a moment to admire her feet, even though the blood-red shoes and the neon-orange outfit clashed horribly.
Psi felt like a voyeur watching the nimble nymph as she put her feet under her. He didn’t dare turn his head to miss a single action of this graceful fairy’s ascent. The woman stood tall, elegant as a ballet dancer. She took one step onto land. And fell promptly onto her face.