Chapter Thirty-Nine
An hour later, someone brought a lunch tray to the room. By then, I had stopped sobbing, though the tears still continued to flow. The woman stared at me in horror as she put the tray on the table, then hurried out. I sat down and forced myself to eat. The healing Hermes had given me had revived my body, but I knew I'd still need as much strength as possible.
I only had a few hours before Hermes returned.
My stomach balked at the thought, and I nearly lost the sandwich I had choked down. I breathed through it, then sipped the water. Outside the glass balcony doors, the jewel-blue ocean glimmered. My lovers were out there. Close. Somewhere in Greece. How had they found me?
“The shopping,” I murmured. “Cameras in the stores. Damn.” I was both impressed and saddened.
If only they hadn't been so good at hunting, I might have stood a chance of convincing Hermes to let me go.
“Oh, who am I kidding? He wasn't going to let me go. I've given him too much honor, too much credit for morals he doesn't have. Our past has clouded my view of him.”
I shook my head and leaned back in the chair. How long had Hermes been a dishonorable, selfish, bastard who could force a woman to stay with him? He wanted me to pretend to love him so that he didn't feel like he was raping me. And he was enough of a son of a bitch that the lie was good enough for him. But then, look at his daddy. Zeus had no problem with rape. He either disguised himself to trick women into sleeping with him or straight up held them down and took what he wanted. He felt as if every woman on the planet was his for the taking. He was the Great Zeus after all. No one had the right to deny him. And he'd taught his son to be just as psychotic.
But what could a mere human do? I had played my only card—me. The illusion of my love. If that's what it took to protect my men, so be it.
I got up and went to the closet. It took me a while to select everything. From the finest lingerie to the sexiest silk dress, it had to be perfect. That's what Hermes would demand. Anything less would risk the safety of the men I loved.
I pulled on the lacy red bra and panty, then the garter belt with its sheer stockings. Wrapped up like a present, I stared at myself in the mirror. Love had made me a whore. So be it. I had lived over four hundred years and only loved one man. That love had been real, no sense in denying it, but it was nothing like what I felt for my hounds. That was an ache now, deep in my chest. I could still feel them. Their love. And that was a gift that even Hermes couldn't take away. Our love would withstand the fury of a god. It would help me endure whatever I had to do to protect them. And it would comfort me in the years to come.
“Maybe he'll get tired of me again,” I murmured. “A few decades, and he might leave me.” I snorted. “The one thing I dreaded, I now hope for.”
I got dressed and put on some make-up. Then I went out to the balcony to wait. When the door finally opened, it wasn't Hermes but one of the male staff. He escorted me to Hermes's cabin. I stepped into a dark sitting room, candlelight flickering off the polished walls. I grimaced at the thin tapers with their tiny flames, surprised there wasn't a trail of rose petals leading me to bed. Even Hermes's romance had taken a bad turn.
Squaring my shoulders, I headed past a chilling bottle of champagne and a dome-covered tray of appetizers. The bedroom door was open. The trembling began as soon as I stepped past the threshold. Not a good trembling.
Hermes was sprawled on the huge bed, his bronzed body pale against black silk. He was gorgeous, as always, but the setting made him look as if he was about to star in a porno. I actually looked around for the cameras. But no, it was just us.
A smile spread across his face when he saw me. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I went to the foot of the bed and started a slow strip tease.
His dark eyes widened and followed my every move. I drew it out in Gypsy Rose fashion, undulating and stroking myself before pulling down a single strap. But there was only so long I could do that. Eventually, I let the dress fall and crawled onto the bed in my underwear. Time to play the part.
“Oh, yes. This is what I want,” Hermes said, his cock weeping. He gave it a quick stroke before massaging his balls, then drew his hand up his chest, outlining his pecs.
As if that would entice me anymore.
I pretended it did and forced my stare to follow his hand. Hermes loved that, making happy sounds.
“Come here,” he said.
Trying to still my trembling, I straddled his hips and settled onto him. His cock pushed against my sex, only a scrap of silk between us. He pushed, and the head split me, shoving the silk into me. I moaned as if it felt good.
“There's my beautiful flower,” Hermes said.
A snap came as he tore the panties away. Then he shimmied down onto his back. Hermes grabbed my hips, pulling me up until I had to climb over his shoulders. Positioned above his face, I made the mistake of staring down at him.
It was all wrong. Dark hair instead of blonde. Brown eyes instead of green. And those lips did not belong to any of the men I loved.
I jerked to the side just in time to throw up over the edge of the bed.
“What the fuck?!” Hermes roared.
Shaking, I spat and curled into a ball.
Hermes launched from the bed to loom over me. “Vomit? Really? I try to pleasure you, and you throw up as if I'm monstrous?”
“I'm sorry,” I whispered. “I'll clean it up.”
“I don't care about the fucking mess.” He grabbed my hair and yanked back my head. “Do I disgust you that much, Lomasi?”
I just stared at him. As I did, Hermes's face shifted, getting even angrier. He lifted a hand. Holy shit, he was going to hit me. Never, in all our years together, had he ever raised a hand to me. But I wouldn't cower. I pushed myself up as best I could with him gripping my hair and stared the motherfucker down.
Hermes lowered his hand.
Before either of us could speak, someone drawled, “Having a little domestic dispute, Hermes?”
Hermes jerked back as I spun to see another dark-haired man standing in the bedroom. He was larger than Hermes. By a lot. Very muscular, tall, and with a commanding presence that shouted his divinity. His eyes were golden brown with a dark limbal ring. There was something about him that reminded me of the Hounds. All the Hounds I'd met.
“Hades,” I whispered.
Hades's stare shot to me and gentled. “Hello, Lomasi. Are you all right?”
“What the fuck do you want?!” Hermes growled before I could answer.
Hades ignored him and picked up my dress. “Put this on, sweetheart.”
I gaped at Hades as I took the dress, then slipped it over my head.
Hermes didn't bother getting dressed, just strode forward with his cock swinging and got in Hades's face. “You have no right to come here. When my father hears—”
“Your father won't do shit!” Hades snarled and grabbed Hermes around the throat. “He can't save you now, you insufferable little prick.”
I froze as Hades lifted Hermes off his feet and held him at eye level so he could sneer into his face. Hermes made choking sounds and clawed at the King of the Underworld. But Hades was unaffected.
“You fool!” Hades said. “You prance about the worlds as if you're untouchable, wreaking havoc wherever you go. And I couldn't touch you. Not until you broke a sacred law.” He tossed Hermes onto the bed.
Gasping, a hand rubbing his throat, Hermes demanded, “What fucking law? What are you talking about?”
“My boys are off-limits. Everyone knows that,” Hades sneered. “They are pieces of me, extensions of my magic, and for that reason alone, you can't touch them unless it's in self-defense. But they are also here to protect Earth, and that duty has been blessed by all the Olympians. Your father and yourself included, you moron! So there are two Olympian laws protecting them.”
Hermes blanched. I'd never seen him scared before. He didn't wear it well. His eyes were too wide and his skin had curdled. I looked from him to Hades, then gasped. The inner irises of Hades's eyes were glowing gold.
Hades lifted a hand and pointed it at Hermes. “You attacked my hounds, messenger boy. Now, I get to attack you.” Hades stretched out a hand.
“Wait!” Hermes cried. “What do you want, Hades? Name it.”
Hades shook his head. “You're a fucking disgrace. Your father will be ashamed of this cowering.” He sighed as if thinking about it, then casually said, “But to keep the peace, I'll take Lomasi.”
My jaw fell.
So did Hermes's.
“What?” Hermes whispered. “Lomasi?”
“Yes. The woman you fought my hounds over. I'll take her as recompense. It seems fair.”
“No!” Hermes found some backbone and shot off the bed. “Do your fucking worst, Hades. But you can't have her.”
“Very well.” Hades grabbed Hermes by the wrist and flames ran out from his hand, up Hermes's arm.
Hermes screamed and fell to his knees.
“But this won't be over quickly,” Hades said casually. “I love my hounds. And you hurt them physically and emotionally, taking their destined mate from them. You will fucking pay, Hermes. I'll take you down to bones, let you heal, then do it all over again.”
As I watched, Hermes's arm did indeed gleam white beneath the flames. His skin burned away, then muscle, fat melting onto the carpet with the scent of roasting meat. I nearly vomited again.
“Stop!” Hermes shrieked. “You can have her! Fucking take her! Just stop!”
My breath caught.
Hades let go, the fire extinguishing instantly. Hermes fell back, hitting the edge of the bed and crumpling against it. He couldn't even cradle his arm, it was too damaged. He had to hold it out from his body while whimpering. But his body began to heal rapidly, muscles regrowing over the bones faster than I could track. Even with that swift healing, Hermes suffered, sweat breaking out on his forehead and sobs bursting from him. It was so pathetic that I almost went to comfort him. But then I remembered what he was going to do to me. No one deserved what Hades had done to Hermes, but I wasn't about to comfort the asshole.
Hades patiently waited for Hermes to heal. I wondered why. Hermes had agreed to give me up, but Hades didn't even look at me. Maybe between gods, such matters had to be clear. Maybe Hermes had to literally hand me over to Hades. Or maybe Hades was simply enjoying the other god's pain. I mean, fair enough. Hermes had gone after men who were like sons to Hades.
At last, Hermes was whole again. He shuddered and looked at me. I stared back. His expression turned into a sneer and something shifted in his eyes. Hermes was clever; he was known for it. For that and his mischievous nature. But it was his cleverness I now feared. He had thought of a way to thwart Hades.
Before I could shout a warning, Hermes grabbed me and shoved me at Hades.
“You want her? Take her!” Hermes cried. “But it's my right to take back the immortality that I gave her. That is mine!”
I slammed into Hades's chest. He caught me easily, but his eyes went wide with Hermes's words. Our stares were locked when I felt the break. The bond between Hermes and me snapped. I cried out and shuddered, magic streaming out of me and back to its owner.
Hermes laughed cruelly. “Hey, at least you can enjoy her charms in the Underworld, Hades.”
With a snarl, Hades blasted Hermes with flames. But his screams were drowned out by mine. There was a ripping inside me, then a wasting. A withering. I looked down to see my skin wrinkling, my muscles retracting, and flesh sinking in.
“Hades,” I whispered.
“Hold on, Lomasi,” he said. “Hold on!”
And then we were gone.