Immortal Love

Evernight Publishing www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2012 Danica Avet

ISBN: 978-1-77130-011-7

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION This one's for Daisy Harris who always answers my frantic, help-I'm-on-the-ledge emails and tells me when my heroine seems drag queenish, for Jillian Chantal who bolstered me when I was flagging, and for Avril Ash who's always willing to do a read with great feedback. This is also for my friends and family who always give me unwavering support in all my writing endeavors. I couldn't do this without you. Even if you sometimes make me feel like a weirdo when I say, "I had the most awesome idea for a book..." Love y'all!

IMMORTAL LOVE Olympus, Inc. Book One Danica Avet Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Mason Landry, owner of Mason’s Retreat, didn’t bother glancing at the door when it opened. He was too busy trying to keep up with the trio of women draining his bar dry. His regular customers watched in fascination. The women had shown up at eight, and half an hour later, they’d gone through five bottles of Jack, two bottles of Southern Comfort, and an entire case of Dixie Beer. He’d never seen anyone drink as much as these women did, but they were paying and didn’t seem too drunk; so he kept the alcohol flowing. That they were sexy didn’t hurt, he supposed as he slapped a bottle of tequila on the bar. They were each completely different in color, but had the same features and blue eyes so he figured they were sisters. The brunette eyed the men in the bar with hungry eyes; the blonde ignored everyone except the other two women; and the woman with raven hair seemed amused by them all. He wouldn’t have minded getting any one of them in his bed, but the thought was an idle one. He didn’t mess with women much anymore. He didn’t have the time, or the desire to deal with bullshit. All sound died in the bar, leaving only the Saints game blaring on the television in the corner and Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely” playing on the jukebox. Mason looked up and narrowed his eyes on the newcomer.

She was short. Delicate even. High heels with little skulls on the toes accentuated legs that seemed a lot longer than they should have. She wore some kind of flowing, ivory dress with a slit clear up her leg, nearly to her hip, showing off the most gorgeous bronze skin he’d ever seen. Mason let his gaze trail up strong-looking thighs to rounded hips and a tiny waist. Full breasts with hardened nipples pressed against the tighter material of her top. Then he came to her face. His mouth went dry. Mason was instantly hooked. The woman had the face of a Hollywood starlet and the kind of body women tried to exercise away, but men craved to touch. Shiny, red gloss on full, pouty lips he all too easily could see wrapped around his cock. Wide, sharp cheekbones and slanted bronze eyes gave her a feline look, though this was no playful kitten. Mason’s palms started sweating. No, this was a jungle cat, ready to maim and fuck. She had scarlet hair. Not red, not auburn, but scarlet. It fell to the middle of her back in a tumble of waves he wanted to sink his fingers into. She didn’t look like the kind of customer to usually grace his bar, and Mason couldn’t have been happier. There was a high class look to her, but he could do an uptown girl. Hell, he’d love to do an uptown girl and show her what a blue collared guy could do with his hands and his tongue. Okay, and his dick. The babe shook her head slightly, her eyes narrowed on the three women sitting at Mason’s bar. The trio hadn’t done more than look at her over their shoulders before slamming back more liquor. Although he couldn’t help but notice the sly glance they shared once their backs were turned on the red-head. “You’re late,” the brunette called out to the newcomer, her voice waspish and hard. The regulars, though they were fascinated, edged back to whisper amongst themselves as the babe slinked toward the bar. Toward Mason. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to squeeze his hands into fists to keep from jumping over the bar to throw her down and screw her. Yeah, because that was bad. Customers kind of hated to be mauled by the bar owner, he reminded himself. “You threatened to slash my vintage Dior gown. I had to make sure it was in a safe place before coming down here to kick your ass.” The babe slid onto the barstool next to the three binge drinkers. Oh man, her voice. Raspy and low, like she’d spent all night screaming

out orgasms. She looked over at Mason, her gaze sweeping over him from top to bottom and back again. She seemed to like what she saw, her little pink tongue sweeping over her bottom lip. His cock throbbed beneath the waist apron over his jeans. Thank God for the apron, or she’d see how much he liked what he saw. He cleared his throat, taking a step forward to lean both hands on the bar. He could play it cool. He hoped. “What’ll it be?” Yeah, that was good. Calm, no hint of cracking in his voice. He could do this. He tried a smile. Her eyes locked with his, awareness blooming deep in the bronze depths. Her lips parted, revealing even white teeth and a little, pink tongue. His cock threatened to knock on the bar. “Um, Killian’s Red,” she answered in a voice like a soft scrape of fingernails across his balls. Mason nodded because he wasn’t sure he could speak. Fuck. If he didn’t get a handle on his lust, he’d end up looking like a fool. And he hated when that happened. This sexy babe was perfect for him. They could have sex, get all the lust out of their systems without worrying about hurting each other, and then go on their merry way. It was a great solution. Now he just needed to see it through. **** Roxana Love stared at the broad back of the bartender. This had to be a record. She’d gone from irritated to pissed to horny in point zero six seconds. He was human. He was also hot, her body reminded her with a flood of moisture as he bent over to pick up a crate. The muscles in his arms bunched, and Roxana swore she came. Okay, okay, not cool. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she placed her Akris purse on the bar and studied the man as he went about his work. He seemed to fit the bar perfectly. It was one of those manly places with sticky hardwood floors and sports posters lining the walls. There was nothing to suggest sophistication, but it felt nice. And she hadn’t seen a single cockroach or grease smear. The bar was on the small side, intimate. The bartender, though. He was…big. He was at least six foot four, the perfect height for her if she were in her giant form and if she were into humans – which hadn’t been the case for centuries. His shoulders seemed to span the width of the bar he worked behind, making it easy for him to

reach for drinks and place them on the bar. The black T-shirt he wore had been washed so many times it was threadbare, and she had no complaint about it. Oh no, the shirt clung to the ridges and valleys of his upper body like a second skin. She shivered on her barstool. He had a world-class ass, too. His jeans were faded, looked soft as butter, and begged to be taken off with her teeth. Roxana shook her head and ignored the telling looks her coworkers gave her. She was not going down that street. No humans. No man, mortal or immortal, got her worked up anymore. No matter how gorgeous and sexy. He turned around with a slow smile and placed the lager in front of her. Fuck it, I want him. He was so hot. Her nipples budded beneath her dress. Oh yes, she wanted his face planted between her legs with those lips nibbling her to orgasm. She shuddered. He wouldn’t ever be considered handsome. His face was harsh, craggy like a mountain, with a slightly off-center nose. His eyebrows were straight, black slashes over his deep green eyes. Chiseled cheekbones and a square jaw made him look harsh; a thick scar slashed through his left eyebrow and high on his cheekbone drawing her eyes. This was a man who fought, who knew violence. Her eyes were trapped by his. He moved with economical grace. She shivered. This was a man who knew how to make a woman come. “On the house,” he murmured in a deep Cajun accent she’d heard a million times, but that seemed different because of his voice. She shivered again. A lock of thick black hair fell over his forehead giving him a rakish look she totally dug. “Hello? You’re not listening to me, Rox, and you know I hate it when people ignore me.” The high-pitched yipping dragged her attention from the most doable man she’d ever seen in her life, and she did not appreciate it. The brunette, the one many called “the jealous one”, had always been a pain in Roxana’s butt. She didn’t need to look at her to know she was the one talking. No, she’d heard their voices in her nightmares for a millennium. Whirling around to confront Megaera, Roxana snapped her teeth at the Furie, the monster within stirring. They were her friends, but they did tend to bring out the worst in her. “I do not answer to you.” Meg pouted. “You’re always so mean to me.”

“Because you deserve it, you heartless bitch.” Roxana smiled sweetly at the bartender and sipped her beer. Licking her lips, she let him see just how hot she was for him. So what if he was only a human? He was too sexy to ignore. Oooh, those eyes! They positively smoldered at her. This was a man who’d be able to take at least a little of her full strength. She purred in the back of her throat. “You’re doing it again.” Alecto, or Allie, had an annoyingly sweet voice she used like a weapon. Gods, Roxana wanted to rip her vocal chords out sometimes. She never stopped talking, never let up, just like the annoying cheerleader she resembled with her perky tits and blonde hair. No one would look at her and see the immortal who punished crimes of passion. Allie, for all of her cheerleader good-looks, was a stone cold killer and as annoying as a Chihuahua on crack. Roxana lifted her lip at her in a silent snarl. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you three liked The Whip, you know ‘cause it’s owned by Damocles.” The bastard who still deserved her size six shoved up his ass. Sideways. “This place is nice…and she wouldn’t come here if her life depended on it.” Before Roxana could ask who “she” was, the third Furie interrupted. “We have trouble,” Tisiphone, “Teensy”, said in ancient Greek. She happened to be the most level-headed of the group, which was scary considering she was avenging murder, unlike Meg, who avenged jealous crimes, and Allie, who went for passionate, angry criminals, Teensy got the sociopaths, the cold-blooded killers to punish. And she was damned good at it. “Zeus discovered he has a new grandson.” Roxana groaned and drained her bottle of beer. Slamming the now empty bottle on the bar, she realized all the males, including the bartender, were staring at her with lust. She sent the bartender a hot glance. But there were more important things than sex, unfortunately. She turned her attention back to the Furies who downed their shots like it was water. “So?” she demanded in ancient Greek, to avoid the humans understanding them.

Meg sighed. “It’s one of Heracles’s kids.” She downed another shot of tequila. “Heracles is just like Zeus, man-whores, both of them.” Roxana rolled her eyes. Meg was working herself up to another jealous rage. “What does this have to do with me? I finished a job two weeks ago. I’m still on leave.” The idiot gods just didn’t seem to understand a woman needed rest and a major shopping spree between jobs. Teensy shook her head. “Hera found out about it, and we found out about her finding out about it; and now there’s serious trouble ahead.” “It’s a good thing we like trouble,” Allie said with a bright smile. “So you’re the lucky Enforcer who’ll get to find and bring Heracles’s latest little bundle of Olympian joy and take him back to Zeus’s temple.” Another lager was placed in front of Roxana. The bartender gave her a sexy smile that sent tingles up and down her spine. She fluttered her eyelashes at him in clear invitation and let her fingertips graze his hand. She could forget he was human for a little while. Heat shot up her arm straight to the aching flesh between her legs. His muscles tensed as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Rox, stop playing with the human, and listen.” Allie glared at the bartender who nodded and walked down the bar. “This is serious. We’ve heard the godling isn’t just Heracles’s son, but also a descendant of Paris of Troy.” That caught her attention. Really, could it get any worse? Yes, it could, so she didn’t let the complaint linger. So Hera was still pissed off Paris had chosen Aphrodite over her in a beauty contest in ancient times? Roxana snorted over her beer. The whims and jealousies of the gods and goddesses always made her nauseated. They were like petty children playing grown up, except they had power that made them extremely dangerous. She should know; she had first-hand knowledge of the powers a god wielded, even when it was filtered through a seemingly weak mortal, like her mother. The scar over her heart ached, but she refused to touch it. The Furies were her friends, but no one allowed weakness to show in front of another Olympian. That was tantamount to a death sentence, and Roxana didn’t like death. She could never figure out what to wear.

“So where do I come in? And why can’t Zeus just zap him up before Hera kills him?” She may as well find out what the gods wanted her to do. Again. “Uh, well, Zeus doesn’t know Hera wants his grandson dead. As far as he knows, the godling needs time to assimilate to his glorious new lot in life and get used to the idea of joining the company. At Hera’s insistence. She has him thinking she’s excited about the new addition to the family.” Teensy shrugged. “We only found out because Allie accidentally-on-purpose bugged Hera’s office phone. She’s planning to take him out well before the official ceremony, and she doesn’t seem to care how much the godling hurts first.” She shrugged again. “You know how Zeus is: he won’t believe us if we tell him what his wife’s up to. So, you have to find the male, protect him from Hera, and make sure he gets to the main temple by the next full moon which is in three days.” Roxana really liked Teensy. She was to the point without being outrageous. Someone bumped into the little Furie, and she stabbed him with her fingernail. Of course, Teensy was a mean bitch as well, which was why they got along so well. Over the howling male who stumbled away with his hand clutched over his groin, Roxana said, “What’s the deal with the next full moon? This kid isn’t some shapeshifter, is he?” She hated shapeshifters; they slobbered and shed more than Cerberus, the god of the Underworld’s dog, did. “Zeus is throwing a big inter-office party. He wants to bring the new godling into his immortality and give him his heart’s desire, arrange a marriage for his grandson, nail some nymphs at the afterparty orgy. You know the drill,” Meg said off-handedly. Except Roxana caught the most important word. “Immortality? He’s human?” She couldn’t have been more shocked if they told her Aphrodite routinely waxed her upper lip. “Well, yeah, half. His mother was a descendant of Paris, and she was knocked up by Sir Fucks-a-Lot when he went all disco,” Allie said with glee. “Remember those days? Gods, I miss polyester leisure suits. They were the perfect torture device. And those gold chains buried in chest hair! That was wonderful.” Roxana ignored Meg and Allie, concentrating on Teensy who had grabbed the bottle of Jose and chugged it. “I thought he’d be a

demigod just short of his godhead. I’m being assigned to a full human male.” It was a statement, not a question, but Teensy nodded. “Who is he?” Roxana really didn’t want to know. She didn’t want anything to do with humans, except for that tight piece of ass watching her from the other side of the bar. Nom, nom. She licked her lips. The silence from the Furies tore her attention from the bartender back to the trio sitting next to her. They looked uneasy, which made Roxana uneasy. “Who. Is. He?” “Er,” Allie said, twisting her fingers together. “We, um, don’t really know. We know he lives in this area, but nothing more. The Fates told us he was a child of pain, and you would recognize him by the scars.” She looked at her sisters before turning back to Roxana. “That your mother left on you.” An ice cold wind of fury swept through Roxana, and she pushed herself off the stool. “Tell Zeus and the Fates to go fuck themselves. I’m done.” She didn’t look back at the bartender. No, she needed to get out of the bar before she killed the closest things to friends she had because one upstart god thought he had brass balls.

Chapter Two “You think we pushed too hard?” Allie asked Teensy as she sipped her margarita. They’d moved the “party” to The Whip, an Olympus, Inc. owned bar, after Roxana left Mason’s Retreat. Teensy drummed her fingers on the table and shot Allie a glare. “You? Push? Ms. Unceasing Anger? Never,” she said with a deadpan expression. Her sister was like a train with one track and no breaks. Yeah, they’d pushed way too hard, and now Roxy was out there pissed off and probably planning her revenge. “I know! She’s such a bitch sometimes.” Allie winked at a satyr who promptly choked on his drink. “It isn’t like we’re doing this to be mean. We were asked to find the best to protect his grandson, and the Fates did say the guy had scars similar to Rox’s.” “I know. I was there.” Teensy might as well not even speak since Allie just kept going. Why Teensy put up with her sisters, she had no idea, but they were entertaining sometimes. Not as entertaining as Roxana Love, but not many were. “We chose Rox because she’s the best. No one could keep a human alive as well as she could.” Allie drummed her fingers on the bar. “I think it’ll be good for her. She’s too tense, and she so needs to let go of that grudge she has against her mom.” Meg slammed into the table next to them; her hands tore at the hair of a gorgon who’d sat near a man Meg considered hers. Teensy moved a bit, giving the two women room to fight. Meg probably didn’t even know the guy’s name, but that wouldn’t matter to her baby sister. “Allie, her mom did try to kill her. I’m not sure that’s something anyone could forget.” Allie waved her hand dismissively. “Old news. She needs to get over it and move on. I’d really like to see her join us in our duties, you know? But Zeus won’t let her as long as she’s so dead-set against humans.” Teensy didn’t answer, not that it would have made any difference anyway, but she had a feeling Roxana would go through a lot more hell before she got over anything. She picked up her Bloody Mary a split second before Meg slid in front of her, her body sending everything flying off the table. Sipping idly, Teensy wondered how Roxana was doing.

**** To say he was disappointed when the babe walked out of the bar before he could talk to her was an understatement. The moment she’d left, the trio of tiny women leapt off their stools and disappeared. Once they were gone, it was like all the life had been sucked out of his bar. The rest of the night passed by so slowly, Mason wanted to kick everyone out. If he didn’t have his mortgage due the following week, and his truck note nearly behind, he would’ve closed early. Unfortunately, he had to work as much as possible to make ends meet. That was part of the reason he liked his bar. He only ever had people like himself in there with the exception of the dazzling quartet who’d been in earlier. He admired hard work. After his life on the streets, he didn’t have time for people who felt the world owed them something. Several bar bunnies tried to slink their way into his bed for the night, but he shook off their interest. Women were nothing but trouble. The ones he’d met wanted a man to step in and do everything for them. He’d had enough of that shit years ago. And he didn’t do customers, although the red-head had been the first he’d have taken home if she’d stayed. Hell, he’d have taken her right on top of his bar if she wanted. His cock still throbbed with want, but he ignored it and finished out the final hours of work. Pushing the last customer out of the door, he turned the sign and locked the door. The muscles in his shoulders were tight; his eyes felt like he’d gone all Bob Villa and sandpapered them. Between unsatisfied lust and seven day work weeks, he was exhausted. Sure, sometimes he wished he had a sweet little thing waiting for him in his apartment upstairs. Someone who’d rub his back after a long day, someone who’d ignore all the weird shit that happened to him, but so far he hadn’t found anyone, and he was too busy now to go looking. Mason gave his head a rueful shake. Besides, he wasn’t the kind of man women stayed with; he’d learned that lesson the hard way. He turned off the main lights, the advertising signs, and closed the blinds over the windows. He rubbed the back of his neck as he started back to the bar. He’d clean up in the morning after a few hours of sleep. One good thing about being his own boss meant he didn’t

have to answer to anyone. Of course, he never had a day off, but since he had no life, that was okay. He sauntered to the jukebox and using his code, selected the perfect wind-down music. The first notes of Eric Clapton’s “Bell Bottom Blues” rang out. He sighed. Finally, good music. The hair prickled on the back of his neck, and he spun around, violence shimmering around him. His mouth dropped open. He’d expected a crackhead armed with a knife trying to rob him. Again. In fact, he might have even looked forward to a crackhead wielding a knife, but there was no crackhead and no knife, so the fight drained out of him. Instead, he stood stock still, not sure what to do. She was back. How she’d gotten inside, he had no clue, and he didn’t care. She leaned against his bar with her full breasts thrust out in clear invitation. “I love that song,” she said, and her husky voice traveled down his spine to tickle his balls. “Dance with me?” Was she kidding? He couldn’t dance to save his life! How many girls had gone limping from the dance floor because of his big feet when he was a teenager? Too many to count, but Mason found himself nodding like the dumb animal he was. He’d do whatever she asked if it gave him the opportunity to put his hands on her. They met in the middle of the bar, which wasn’t intended for dancing, but Mason didn’t care. She still wore those incredible heels which put her eyes on level with his chin. She’d loosened a couple of buttons on the top of the silk dress she wore to reveal a hint of her cleavage. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. She slid right into his arms as though she belonged there, fitting her body against his until her every curve sank into his hollows. Mason bit back a groan and wrapped his arms around her to rest his hands on the tops of her hips. She was perfection in an ivory dress. He stared down into her bold, bronze eyes and swayed to Slow Hand’s crooning. His cock throbbed. Pressed into her stomach as he was, Mason had no doubt she felt it, but she didn’t move away. If anything, she shimmied until his cock very nearly exploded. Holy hell, this woman is hot. Sweat gathered along his hairline as she cuddled closer. Her breasts pressed into his chest, the gap of material inviting him to stare. Which he did. He could see the shadow of her cleavage and the barest hint of a bra. His fingers flexed on her

hips. She purred softly, going on tiptoes to swipe the flesh of his earlobe with her raspy tongue. A current of electricity raced through him. He needed her now, and the signals she gave out told him she wanted it. Hoping he wasn’t about to have his face slapped, he made his move. He sank his right hand into her thick red hair to cradle the back of her head, while his left hand slid down to her curvy ass. Tugging her head back, he kissed her with all the pent-up lust that had swirled through him for the last several hours. Mason almost came from the first taste of her lips. For such a brash, bold woman, she tasted sweet, like pralines, which were his favorite dessert. Dipping his tongue between her teeth for a better sample, he growled. Hot and moist, her mouth was heaven. His left hand gripped her ass hard, jerking her into his groin. She moaned softly, her hands tangling in his hair, her perfectly manicured nails scraping his scalp. The bite of pain mingled with the pleasure of her kiss and sent him into oblivion. He drank of her deeply, his tongue tangling with hers until they were both panting and groaning. She wasn’t a passive partner. Oh no, she tasted him as deeply as he did her. Her tongue flicked over the inside of his cheeks and the roof of his mouth in quick little forays that left his cock throbbing. He needed her now. He tugged at her skirt until it bunched around her waist. She wiggled in his hold, her head falling back as his other hand dipped between her legs. She was wearing some kind of thin silk thing. It felt wonderful, but it had to go. He nibbled her neck as he ripped it from her body with his left hand. Her nipples hardened against his chest. He knew he had her. He explored her pussy with one blunt finger, groaning at the feel of her slick lips. God, she was creaming for him! He wanted to taste her; he had to taste her. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he had his face buried between her long legs. Lifting her in his arms in one quick movement, he strode to the bar, placing her on the top. He guided her feet to the tops of two stools so she was spread out on his bar. She looked like a decadent angel with her ivory dress bunched around her waist, her legs splayed open, and her beautiful pink pussy exposed to his eyes. She sat there, this gorgeous woman who set him on fire just by breathing, letting him look his fill. Slowly, so slowly he knew it was a

tease, she unbuttoned the top of her dress until the straps slid down her arms, leaving her in nothing but a bra that barely covered her nipples. She had a wicked scar over her left breast; it didn’t deter from her beauty, or the beauty of those pale pink nipples he ached to taste. Later. Right now – he leaned forward and breathed deep of her musky arousal – right now he needed to lick those pouty pink lips glistening with cream. **** The first swipe of his tongue along her pussy made Roxana throw her head back. He licked her from bottom to top, pausing to swirl the tip of his tongue into the mouth of her channel. Her womb spasmed with delight. Oh yeah, he knew how to eat a girl out. He teased her clit with short laps before he wrapped his lips around it to suckle. She groaned, her hands clutching the edge of the bar above her head. Gods, this was what she needed; he was what she needed to ease her frustrations and anger. The pleasure streaking through her seemed to erase the months she’d wasted with her whiney charges, freeing her. Pure lust had brought her back to this bar, back to him, and she was so glad she’d given into it. He chuckled against her, the vibrations rippling up her body. She gasped as his tongue lapped at her entrance. Soft growls emitted from his throat as he tasted her like no other ever had. He sampled her as though she was his favorite flavor, and she was about to disappear. Sharp teeth nipped her labia, making her cry out at the unexpected pain, but he soothed her by circling his tongue over her clit. More fluid gushed from her as she panted. Climax was there, just over the cliff, but she needed more. “More.” She thrust her hips up to him in clear demand. “Make me come.” Roxana looked down to see his emerald eyes glinting at her as he obeyed her command. His tongue flicked over her clit with a speed that had her shouting. Then two of his fingers sank into her channel, fucking her hard. The combination of tongue and thrusting fingers set off tremors from her head to her feet as her orgasm rose. His clever fingers curled, finding the right spot. She gasped as sweat dripped between her breasts. He rubbed hard and sent her flying. She screamed to the ceiling as her climax crashed over her like a tidal wave. He growled against her clit, sending rapturous flutters through her channel as it clutched his fingers, caressing them.

Satisfied, yet wanting more, Roxana grabbed his thick hair and pulled him to his feet. He came without resistance, his face smeared with her juices. His cheeks were flushed with desire, a small ring of green remaining in his dilated eyes. She’d never seen a sexier sight in her life. “Give me your cock,” she said. “Now.” One big hand shackled her wrist. With surprising strength, he pulled her hand from his hair and pinned it to the bar. His free hand went to his zipper, and the most beautiful cock she’d ever seen sprang out, eager for action. Long, thick, and already brimming with precum, she wanted him inside. Now! “Give me.” Her other hand rose to pull him to her, but he caught that one as well, thoroughly imprisoning her to the bar top. She could’ve broken free. He was only human, after all, but for some reason, she needed him to take over. She craved his mastery as much as she craved his body. “Ask me nicely.” His words startled her, and she blinked up at him. Ask him for his cock? “I don’t think so.” She might like the idea of being dominated, but fantasy was a far cry from reality. The smile on his face should’ve warned her, but Roxana was not a female who intimidated easily. In fact, she didn’t intimidate at all, which caused her no end of problems with the executives. If he pissed her off, she’d tear him up. In fact, she was on the verge of breaking away from him when he pressed his cock against her soaking wet body. The heat of his flesh as it rested right between her lips sent trills of feminine delight through her. Using just his hips, he rubbed himself against her, the ridge of his cock passing over her clit with his movements. She gasped. She quivered. But she would not beg him to come inside her. He kept her pressed to the bar, wouldn’t let her move her arms, but she used her legs to meet his thrusts to make sure his cock went over her clit. She could come like that, but she wanted more. She wanted him to spear into her body, to feel him stretch her wide. She’d get him inside her some way. She fought his hold. He didn’t budge. He held her arms still without bruising her skin, as though he were barely trying.

What the hell? She narrowed her eyes on the man who gazed at her like a lazy lion. He was in complete control of her and himself. Why did that make her pussy flutter? She wasn’t the kind of woman who allowed anyone power over her, yet this human bartender held her as easily as he would a butterfly. Her womb spasmed. His hips didn’t slow their controlled, determined gliding. His cock passed between her lower lips over and over again, gathering moisture, rubbing her clit. The orgasm hit her so hard black dots swam before her eyes. The back of her head slammed into the bar as near painful ecstasy swamped her. Pinned, helpless to do anything but feel, she clutched him tightly between her thighs, her hips jerking against him as she rode out the wave of pleasure. The spasms passed leaving her limp, but still his hips worked over her clit. Her heart pounded so hard, she thought it might burst. She couldn’t do it again. She was slick with sweat. Her arousal scented the air so heavily it would probably linger for hours. “Ask. Me.” The growl, feral and dangerous, sent a sharp thrill through her. “No.” Pathetic! She sounded weak, helpless. But gods, she couldn’t help herself. He worked her like no one else ever had. Her pussy gave a slow squeeze, reminding her it hadn’t gotten its cock. She was not going to be ruled by her body. No way in Hades! Fiery waves of need coasted up her body from the spot where he pressed against her. She needed more. Could she do it? Could she ask him nicely to fuck her? She tossed her head, trying to fight her body’s hunger. She had to fight it. She wouldn’t be who she was if she gave in. But just once, would it really hurt? “Ask.” It was a demand from an Alpha who wanted to claim his female. Roxana bit her lip, opening eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d closed. His face was dark with hunger, with expectation. He wanted her surrender. She trembled. It was just sex though, right? She could let him take her, could ask him to fuck her, and it wouldn’t mean anything. She’d never see his fine ass again. She hoped. Licking her lips, she stared into his harsh face. “Fuck me, please.” ****

Mason didn’t bother holding back his triumphant growl. He’d teased her to the point where her juices soaked the front of his jeans. His cock and balls were coated from her gushing orgasms. He’d never been so crazy in lust before, so her surrender made it sweeter when he positioned himself at her entrance. She’d closed her eyes again, but he wouldn’t allow that. No. He wanted her to see him, see him taking her. “Watch me.” His voice was so deep and gravelly he sounded unintelligible, but she seemed to understand him. Glazed bronze eyes stared up at him. Awareness crept into those depths, but also a hint of anger. She didn’t like his power over her, hated it in fact, something Mason reveled in. He’d made this strong, independent woman lose her control. And if he had his way, he’d make her want him just as badly as he wanted her until she couldn’t even imagine not having him inside her. “You don’t have to tell me your name,” he said, nudging the entrance of her sopping wet pussy with the head of his cock. Oh God, she was hotter than anything he’d ever felt! “But I’m Mason, and you’re gonna be screaming my name by the time I’m through with you, baby.” Her nostrils flared, the anger in her face warning him she was on the verge of tearing his ass up, but he angled his hips and slammed into her tight sheath. He was so deep inside her the mouth of her womb cradled the head of his cock. He threw his head back as he absorbed the feel of being in this magnificent woman. He gritted his teeth at the grip of her body around his aching shaft. It was a damn good thing she’d been drenched because she was so tight that Mason worried about hurting her. But she’d taken him inside her rippling pussy with an ease he couldn’t help but fall in love with. Snug, dripping wet, and hotter than a furnace, this woman’s body was made for him. He panted with the effort of holding still. He wanted to savor this, wanted to forget everything but this moment. But that wasn’t going to happen, he thought with a groan as she fluttered around him. Her soft gasp told him she was just as lost to passion as he was, as much a slave to the fire between them as he’d become. Looking down where their bodies were joined, his heart warmed at the sight of his cock buried between her stretched lips. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

He tightened his hands around her wrists as he withdrew from her body. His dick glistened with her juices. He looked up at her to see a frantic light in her beautiful eyes. She wanted him to move, but she wouldn’t ask. His lips curled in a feral smile. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened, no doubt to bitch at him, but he didn’t wait for it. He slammed his cock inside her hard enough to make her breasts bounce. Her breath left her in a loud moan. He repeated the move, faster and harder. Enchanted and intrigued, he watched as her body flushed with color. Her nipples went from soft pink to deep rose. Blood rushed to her face. Her lips swelled with passion. He fucked her harder, the smell of her arousal and the sound of their bodies slipping and sliding together music to his ears as he blocked out everything but her. He grunted with his efforts and was rewarded as her breathing quickened with another one of her mind-blowing orgasms. He loved watching her come, and he had every intention of having her pretty little snatch clamp down on him. The snug channel he enjoyed so much began to tighten even as her gasps became soft cries. He shoved into her faster, his orgasm creeping up on him. Her hands balled into fists beneath his, her head tossed left and right as she struggled to climax. “Come.” He slammed into her. “For.” He slid out until only the tip remained. “Me.” He thrust with all of his power. And she did. She screamed his name as she splintered apart. Her channel clamped on his cock hard enough to break it in half, but God what a way to go! Mason grunted and thrust with no finesse, with no care about being gentle. Her rippling muscles caressed him, massaged his swelling dick until he exploded inside her. Buried inside her welcoming heat, Mason let go with a roar, his seed spurting into her with great pulses that left his knees weak. His eyes rolled back in his head as he was overwhelmed by the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had. It seemed to last forever until he thought he might die from it. Her body still fluttered around him with mini-orgasms as his hips humped into her until she’d taken every drop of his cum. Sweating, panting, and more than a little light-headed, Mason slumped over her heaving body. His head rested in the center of her chest. He felt her heart thunder against his forehead. He wanted to say

something suave, but damn, he couldn’t even think. He was lucky he hadn’t fallen to the floor, he was so exhausted. Sweat from her body seeped into his shirt to mingle with his. The scent of their sex hovered in the air. Mason inhaled deeply. The smell was enough to make him hard again, if he had anything left that was. “Where do you live?” The question was so unexpected, he wasn’t sure it was meant for him until one of her hands tangled in his hair and pulled his head back. Her face was still flushed from her orgasm, but the calculating gleam in her eyes made his heart pound. “Upstairs.” She licked her lips. “Payback is a bitch, Mason.” He felt a thrill down to his toes. Hot damn, what a woman!

Chapter Three She wanted to tell herself she was stupid for doing this. She wanted to kick his ass and stomp him into the ground. She needed to fuck him until neither of them could move. Tomorrow she’d have to deal with Zeus’s bullshit grandson, but right now, tonight, she needed to forget everything about gods and godlings. As she followed him up the rickety stairs to the apartment above the bar, she eyed his tight ass. He knew how to make a woman come. Oh Hades, but he knew how. He’d made her come three times, not once like most of her hook-ups. He’d made her gush. Her face burned at the memory even as her thighs grew slick with renewed arousal. At over three thousand years old, nothing should have surprised her, but the flood of moisture from her body at his teasing had taken her by surprise. She’d thought things like that were rumor, or male hopefulness, but this human – Mason, she reminded herself – had made Roxana Love ejaculate. With his ability to bring extreme, violent pleasure to his partner, he’d have been the biggest attraction at any one of the executives’ orgies. Not that Roxana would’ve allowed such a thing. He was her toy. For the moment. She shook her head. She needed to screw him, get him out of her system, and decide how she was going to get out of Zeus’s latest assignment. The apartment he led her to was small, but surprisingly clean. It was her experience that men didn’t exactly care about picking up after themselves, but this one apparently did. It wasn’t immaculate like her place, but it was good enough for even her fastidiousness. The living room, kitchen, and dining room were all in one with the stove, fridge, and sink on one far wall. The table sat in the center while the sofa and television were mere feet away. She hadn’t seen an apartment so small since the time she’d tried big city living. Her lip curled at the memory. He didn’t stop in the main room though; the arrogant man led her directly to his bedroom, which was small as well. She didn’t care about the size of the room, her mind more occupied by studying the sturdy bed in the center of it. It was big enough for them, definitely

long enough. Warmth blossomed in her stomach. Oh yeah, they could perform gymnastics in that bed. Mason turned to her. Her inner cheerleader squealed with joy that she’d had this man. She wanted to shoot the bitch for being so perky. Their play downstairs had left him sweaty and disheveled, but it was a good look on him. She had plans to taste every inch of skin. It would be torment for him and pleasure for her. The best of both worlds! Roxana kicked off her shoes as he pulled off his shirt. She took a moment to admire him. Gods, the man was built like a gladiator. The thick muscles of his sun-darkened chest led to a stomach made for nibbling. Her mouth watered at the sight of his little brown nipples. He didn’t have hair on his chest, though a small trail started at his navel and led straight down. He hadn’t bothered zipping up after they’d had sex, and she was oh-so-glad. She saw the root of his cock at the base of his stomach through the open V of his jeans. She was going to make that dick hers, she thought with a salacious grin. It would be her show this time. She demanded it. “Shuck ‘em,” she said with a nod to his jeans and boots. Gods, did he have to have such a sexy smile? It almost wasn’t fair. Almost, because she knew exactly what those lips could do to a woman. She purred as her body warmed at the memory. She stepped out of the Nina Ricci dress, tossing it to the side. Her panties were nothing but a scrap of silk now, but she pulled them off as well. Maybe she’d leave them for the human as a souvenir of the best night of sex he’d ever have. A secret smile flirted with the edges of her mouth. The bra fell to the floor, and she turned back to him. They were both naked as jaybirds. She looked him over carefully, seeing the strength in his big body sent a tingle of pleasure through her. He was perfection. He seemed to like what he saw, too, because his cock, her new best friend, hardened until it pointed directly at her. “This is my game now, Mason.” She smiled, strolling towards him until her nipples brushed the hard satin of his chest. Her pussy wept. Yes, please! She pressed her hands against his chest and gave him a hard shove. She so enjoyed the surprise on his face as he fell back on the

bed. She loved the fact he didn’t bother trying to get back up. He stacked his hands behind his head and spread his legs for her. The smug bastard knew what she wanted. But she couldn’t be really angry because she found it sexy. She found him sexy. Roxana moved until she stood directly between his knees which hung over the edge of the bed. He was a feast for her eyes, and she let her gaze linger on her favorite bits. Hm, he had a lot of favorite parts, she thought. His chest was to die for; he had a stomach she could wash her lingerie on, and a cock made for a porn star. How lucky could one girl get? Every inch of his body was a warm brown that reminded her of the Ancient Greeks she used to terrify. His cock, that oh-sogorgeous muscle, rested on his belly. She licked her lips as her eyes rested on him. Roxana did something she’d never willingly done before: she knelt before him like a supplicant. Her mouth nibbled on the satiny skin of his knee as she worked her way closer to the prize. A quick glance upwards told her he’d lifted himself to his elbows so he could watch her. Her body flooded with warmth. She liked that he was so curious and eager for her. She wanted him to watch her. She smiled against his thigh, enjoying the sound of his quickened breathing. “What do I call you?” He gasped as she teased him by switching to his other thigh and nibbling the tantalizing flesh. Power zipped through her at his question. She lifted her head. “You may call me ‘Mistress Roxana’.” **** Holy shit! Mason knew his eyes were wide, knew he looked nervous, but what man wouldn’t be when he had a wicked woman between his legs with a feral smile? That lipstick, that wonderful red lipstick, hadn’t worn off after their downstairs play. As he watched, his Adam’s apple bobbing, those glossy red lips lowered to his throbbing cock. Fuck, he just might swoon. No, no, he wouldn’t because then he’d miss the best part of the night! He gulped. His dick was already slick for her, but she didn’t take it into her mouth immediately. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment because he realized she was going to pay him back for torturing her downstairs. She didn’t touch it with anything but her full

lips. Hot damn. Soft, nibbling kisses began at the base of his cock, up the throbbing length until she reached the slick crown. His eyes shot open when her tongue swiped out to catch the droplets at his tip. He’d likened her to a wild cat earlier, but hadn’t expected to see the true evidence of it. Her red hair fell around her face, forming a curtain of fire that framed his groin. God! He sighed. Her gaze locked on his face as her tongue lapped at his tip again. His breath hitched at the gentle rasp against his sensitive flesh. He watched her. How the hell could he not? Her little pink tongue trailed down his length again until she reached his balls. Mason’s entire body jerked when she teased his balls with her slightly raspy tongue. His eyes rolled back in his head. “No. You have to watch.” He shook his head to clear it. He didn’t want to do anything but watch it, to be honest, but a man had to catch his breath now and then, right? Wrong. Because when she flayed his cock and balls with her tongue, bathing him from base to tip to balls and back again, never in the same rhythm, he forgot about breathing. Hell, he might’ve even forgotten his own name. That’s how fucking good it felt. His body was slick with sweat when he finally felt her grasp him firmly in her hand. He was primed, ready to be buried inside her slick tightness, except she had other plans for him. The sadistic bitch, he thought with crazed lust. She lifted his throbbing dick from his damp belly and squeezed. Staring down at the goddess between his legs, he watched, helpless, as her mouth engulfed his cock. “God!” he shouted as she slipped the head into the hot cavern of her mouth. She didn’t stop either, no, not Mistress Roxana. She took him all the way to the base. Mason’s eyes crossed as he struggled to hold onto his orgasm. “Fuck!” She chuckled around his cock, making it jerk with excitement. She deep-throated him, humming as she swallowed him down her throat. It was the first time he’d ever had a woman take all of him, and holy shit, he wanted to marry her. Right then and there! He dripped with sweat now, his mouth dry from his helpless gasps of pleasure. She was going to kill him. His heart pounded enough to make him worry about cardiac arrest, but fuck it. No, his inner adolescent said, fuck her. So he did.

He removed his hands from behind his head to clutch the comforter, thrusting his hips up. “Oh, yeah, oh God!” Her throat massaged his cock as it glided in and out. She pulled back, but he couldn’t complain because the future mother of his children sucked his dick like she wanted to suck the brains out of his head. He was okay with that, as long as she kept doing what she was doing. Her head bobbed over him. Her cheeks hollowed out; her eyes ate him up. Oh God. Someone was groaning, moaning out curses and prayers. His throat was dry as a desert. Oh yeah, he was the one making all the noise. What else was he supposed to do? He was being given a platinum blow job. One of her hands played with his balls. He grunted as sweat poured down the sides of his face. “Roxana.” The warning graze of teeth along his length reminded him she wasn’t just Roxana. She was Mistress Roxana. “Mistress.” He couldn’t manage the rest, not while she sucked his dick like he was her favorite flavor cool pop. “Please.” He was going to come down her throat if she wasn’t careful. A naughty finger traced the seam of his balls down to the sensitive flesh below, skin he thought was just another place to clean until she pressed. “Holy shit!” His hips shot up, and he came like a volcano. He thought a high class girl like her would finish him off in her hand, but he was oh, so wrong. Thank God. Because Roxana slurped and swallowed every ounce of seed humming softly in the back of her throat. He fell back, his body loose and relaxed. And why wouldn’t it be? He’d had the best blow job of his entire life by a woman who just about set his hair on fire. It wasn’t over either. No, she licked and cleaned his cock with little noises of appreciation. He closed his eyes. Damn, he had to have this woman all the time. She was like a nuclear bomb in bed, or out, as he recalled the bar. When she seemed satisfied he was clean, she moved up his body. Mason couldn’t help his shiver of anticipation. He wanted to write odes to her tongue as it lapped up his body, following some kind of pattern only she knew. He was still clutching the comforter, as though he were some virgin being ravished. He was being ravished,

but he was a grown man. Oh God, she did not just rake her teeth over his nipple! He groaned. She did it again. Okay, he was keeping her. He didn’t care if he had to sell off body parts to keep her in the lifestyle she was used to. She belonged to him now. She was his, and they were going to do this every night for the rest of their lives. She purred. He liked that. Her teeth sank into his skin, and he yelped. “Don’t get cocky, Mason.” She licked the teeth marks in his skin. “Huh? What?” When in doubt, play dumb. It always worked. One of her fiery eyebrows rose. “I belong to no man.” Oh shit. “I said that out loud?” “Hm, yes. I appreciate the sentiment, but this is one night only. After I’m finished with you, if you’re still alive, you won’t see me again.” The firm set to her lips told him there would be no changing her mind. Right now. She didn’t know he wasn’t the kind of man who gave up easily, though. If she thought she was getting away from him, she was in for a rude awakening. But he said nothing to that effect. He might be uneducated, as in he didn’t have college diplomas gracing his walls, but he wasn’t stupid. Because it would be stupid to interrupt her when her clever little tongue was drawing circles on his skin. His cock stirred. The greedy bastard. He wanted her again and wanted her now. She worked her way up to his mouth and kissed him within an inch of his life. He tasted himself on her mouth, and his dick hardened even more. His arms went around her to keep her close. Their tongues tangled in a sexy, wet dance. She was his perfect counterpart, a woman he could play with, have sex as hard as he liked without hurting, and she gave as good as she got. She suckled his tongue, reminding him of what she’d done to his cock. He twisted against the crack of her ass, which was planted right over his groin. Oh, yeah, he could get used to this. **** She was relieved she hadn’t ended up with a minuteman. There was no way she’d have been satisfied with one orgasm tonight,

not with the demons riding her back. But Mason was up to the task. Most men would be snoring like a drunken lord by now, but not Mason. No, this man was ready to go if the hard length under her ass was any indication. Oh, yeah, she could get used to this. Although she wouldn’t. Even as she kissed him like her life depended on it, she kept hearing Allie’s words over and over in her head. She had to find Heracles’s kid. It was a matter of honor and a necessity. But not right now. No, right now, she would enjoy the attentions of this extraordinary human until neither of them could move, much less think. His hands sank into her hair, holding her in place for his pillaging tongue. She moaned. He tasted so good. From his mouth to his skin to his cock, he was like a walking buffet made for her tongue alone. She was so wet, she should’ve been embarrassed, but oh well. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed downright pleased with her reaction to him. And she was more than pleased with the way his body responded to her. She ground her ass against his cock. She wanted to ride him, but he didn’t give her a choice. In a move too quick for her to counter, he had her flat on her back with her legs resting on his shoulders. She blinked up at him. How had he done— Oh, who cared? Definitely not she, especially not when his dick slid right into her like it was coming home. She shook all thoughts from her head. This was sex. That’s all it was. There were no emotional attachments, or feelings of completeness allowed in onenight stands. It was just sex, and gods, she wanted it now! She opened her mouth to tell him to hurry, but lost her breath when he slammed forward. Her eyes rolled back even as her hands grabbed his hips to hold him to her. He fucked her, his big body braced over her, his face a grim mask of determination. Sweat from his face landed on her chest, and she swore it sizzled. She was so hot for him, for the glide and drag of his cock inside her, she thought she might spontaneously combust. He thrust harder, forcing soft expulsions of air to leave her lungs. She moaned. He growled. The staccato clap of their flesh meeting echoed around the silent room. Oh gods. Her nails dug into

his hips, and he bared his teeth at her in a menacing grin. Oh gods, he was going to screw her right out of her mind! He shoved himself up to grab her legs in his big hands and pushed them towards her chest. It was a damn good thing she was flexible. He leaned back to watch his thrusting cock, a hungry look on his face. Her heart thudded in time with his thrusts until it outpaced their bodies. He rubbed all the right places as his shaft shuttled in and out of her. The position was uncomfortable, but so what? Nothing mattered at the moment but what he did to her. She was twisted like a pretzel, a vessel for his marauding body. He fucked her as though he owned her ass. She pushed the thought from her mind. She couldn’t bother getting pissed off right now, especially as her body tensed in preparation for another one of those orgasms only he seemed capable of wringing from her. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” Every thrust into her forced the soft, feminine sound from her, and she couldn’t even get worked up over it. It was too good, too perfect. He transferred his hold on her ankles to one hand, the other dipping between her legs to play with her clit. She came apart. A scream erupted from her throat as her pussy convulsed around his ravaging cock. Roxana Love screamed like a bitch, and tears spilled down the sides of her face as she came harder than she ever had in her life. He grunted. She wasn’t sure if it was a pleased or pained sound, and she didn’t particularly care at this point. His face tightened. His eyes squeezed shut. He pounded into her clenching pussy harder, faster. His entire body stiffened, and he roared. She felt him shooting deep inside her, bathing her womb with his seed. His lips were pulled back in a snarl as he emptied himself into her, his big body shuddering as his cock twitched over and over. Her body, replete, sated, sank down, down, down, until she was barely aware of him arranging her limp form on the bed. He curled around her, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to get the hell out. But she lost the thought from one breath to another as she fell into sleep. **** She woke up in a puddle of drool. Roxana made a face. Her mouth tasted like a cat had taken a shit in it in the middle of the night.

Ugh. Morning breath. She needed a toothbrush and a gallon of mouthwash. Now. She rolled away from her drool, throwing her arm out. It landed on something solid and warm. She froze. What. The. Hell. She tried to remember what happened the night before. Yeah, it didn’t take long for the memories to come roaring back. Sex. Lots of sex. With a human! A human who had managed to keep up with her, twist her inside out, and made her come so many times, she felt like they set a world record. A groan hovered. No, no regrets. She’d needed last night to work her frustrations at Zeus out of her system. And it had so worked. She felt more relaxed than she had in years. She cracked open one eye and peered around the room. She was in his apartment. Thank gods it wasn’t hers. He was simply too good at making her come to injure by kicking him out of her bed. Dried spit on the side of her face reminded her she’d been drooling. Drooling! Ugh. She pushed herself up and looked over at Mason. He was flat on his stomach, half of his body hanging off the bed. She looked at herself. She was a total bed hog, and she knew it. She’d probably pushed him that way at some point in the night because she was in the center of the bed with plenty of room. She smirked. Served him right after that last round of mind-blowing sex. Early morning light slanted over the bed, caressing his skin like a lover. She could stare at his body forever, but that would not work. She had a job to do. Heaving a mental sigh, she eased out of the bed. He’d been a good lay for the night, good enough to leave her a little wobbly when she tried to stand. Okay. That never happened to her. She could usually go several rounds and still have enough energy and strength to kick ass afterwards. Mason had definitely been worth the time she lost the night before. Her thighs were stained with her juices and his cum. She sighed. Glad she’d conjured a pack of towelettes when she left the bar last night, she grabbed a few to clean herself. With the way they’d gone at it, it was a damn good thing she couldn’t get pregnant from a mortal. Her body needed immortal seed to conceive. She shook her head with a soft laugh. She found her four thousand dollar dress crumpled on the floor. Eh, looked like she had another dress to donate to the cleaning

service. She waved her hand towards the dress, sending it to her apartment on Mount Olympus. She conjured a pair of distressed Hudson jeans and an Aiko tunic because she’d be combing the streets for Zeus’s friggin’ grandson. She’d leave the panties for Mason. They were her favorite, yeah, but were so torn up she couldn’t wear them again. Roxana smiled and dressed as quickly as she could. No use hanging around for Mason to get all weepy when he saw the best piece of ass he’d ever had walking out the door. She wasn’t cocky. She’d seen the enthralled look on his face. She stopped to buff her nails. Yeah, she was good. And in a damn good mood after yesterday’s self-pity party. It took a little longer to find her shoes. She leaned on the bed to put them on, her gaze eating up the sight of a naked, exhausted Mason sprawled on the bed. He was so sexy. She sighed. His skin was so gorgeous, like dark satin poured over steely muscles. Yeah, she could get used to that sight. The scars littering his skin only made him much more attractive to her. She so loved a male who— She blinked. Shook her head. A little laugh escaped her. She was imagining things, of course. Roxana stood up straight and swung her purse over her shoulder. She headed to the door, pausing in the doorway. And looked back at the big man on the bed. His head was turned towards her, his face relaxed in sleep. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right. Her heartbeat spiked. No. No, no, no! Her purse fell to the floor with a thud, but she ignored it as she stalked back to the bed. Upon closer inspection, the scars looked familiar. Too familiar for her peace of mind. The scar tissue on her back and chest itched. No, this could not be happening. Her legs gave out, and she sprawled on the floor next to the bed. She stared up at the ceiling as her brain swirled with the implications of what she’d done. She’d had sweaty, dirty monkey sex with Heracles’s son. She was so screwed, she’d be lucky if she could hold her head up at the next inter-company mixer. Her hands curled into fists. She was going to kill Mason and make it look like an accident. She was an Enforcer; she was good at things like that. He’d never even realize it. The bastard. He’d probably tell his man-whore dad all about her begging him for his cock. Impotent tears burned her eyes as

she imagined the hard-earned respect she’d gained over the last two thousand years slipping away from her. Her chest rose and fell as she fought to control her rage, the monster screaming to be freed. She’d been fucked by demigods before. Fucked over, more like, but none of them had ever made her feel as though she was special like Mason had. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to forgive him for that. The rat bastard. Zeus’s grandson had rocked her world inside out and sideways. She groaned and slapped a hand over her eyes. She’d had sex with one of her future bosses!

Chapter Four The silence woke him. He’d fallen asleep to the soothing sounds of Roxana breathing next to him. She muttered in her sleep. He found he didn’t mind. But those sounds were gone, and in their place the air felt heavy with expectation. The hair lifted on the back of his neck. There was danger in the air. A shiver worked down his spine. He’d had this feeling several times before, and each time had been before a major change in his life. He frowned into his pillow. Was Roxana the change in his life? Was she standing over him with a butcher knife? Nah, she wasn’t that crazy. Had she left him? Walked out without saying goodbye? He would not be a happy camper if she had. Not at all. He flopped over with a grunt and squinted as sunlight burned into his eyes. She should have stayed; they could’ve had some spectacular morning sex. His cock throbbed in agreement. Mason finally opened his eyes all the way and rubbed the sleep from them. He glanced at the pillow she’d used and chuckled at the small spot of dampness on the case. She was a drooler. Who would’ve thought a high class lady like her would drool? He sat up, groaning as his stomach muscles protested. Yeah, he’d gotten one helluva workout last night. He’d ridden her like he was going for broke, and damn, it had been the best night of his life. Movement in the corner of his bedroom drew his attention. Roxana sat in one of his kitchen chairs. How she’d managed to bring it into the room without waking him was a thought for another time. No, he was too glad to see her to care. She looked as worn out as he felt. Whisker burns added a blush all over her face and throat; her lips were noticeably swollen, though that gorgeous red color had finally worn off. Her hair rose off the left side of her head in a mass of tangles, while the right side was flat. She regarded him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Babe.” He’d meant to sound sexy, but his voice came out as a croak instead. Too much shouting and yelling the night before. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.” But she must have. The dress she’d thrown off last night was gone, replaced by a pair of skin-tight jeans and a black blouse with slashed sleeves. If

she’d looked amazing in the dress, she looked downright gorgeous in the casual clothes. “Did you bring a bag with you last night?” She said nothing, her gaze trained on him. He frowned. She didn’t move a muscle, but the air filled with sharp menace. It was a different danger from the one he’d sensed before, so something else was going on, but he couldn’t concentrate on that now. There was a gleam in her bronze eyes he wasn’t sure he trusted, as though she was picturing him without some piece of his body. Yeah, it was a look he’d seen on way too many women’s faces through the years. The only problem was he hadn’t actually done anything to piss this one off. Right? “Tell me about yourself, Mason Paul Landry.” Ice dripped from her every word, and the knuckles of her hands were white with tension. She knew his full name. She must’ve done some snooping while he was sleeping and found something she didn’t like? His dick shrank at the venom in her tone. Yeah, she was pissed off. His mind flipped through the previous night. What had he done to piss her off? She’d come several times, so it couldn’t be sexual frustration. Maybe he’d left the toilet seat up? But why would that piss her off when she didn’t live with him? Now that was something to consider. He glanced at her. Later. He’d consider it later. “I own the bar downstairs.” He had to fight the urge to pull the sheet over his groin. He felt at a distinct disadvantage here, and he didn’t like it one bit. She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. Her lips moved, but she didn’t speak. Maybe she was praying for patience? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen a woman do that in his presence. Her eyes snapped open. “Who are your people, Mason Landry?” Okay, what was with the use of his full name? He gave a mental shrug. Maybe she regretted getting into bed with a complete stranger. He sent a sharp look at her. Yeah, there was regret somewhere in that anger. He didn’t regret last night. He didn’t want her to either. He bunched his pillows behind him and got comfortable. “I was orphaned.” It wasn’t a big deal, not anymore. “No idea who my parents were, or anything. I was raised in a series of foster homes.”

He shrugged. “Got out at eighteen, messed around a few years doing odd jobs and then I opened a bar. That’s about it.” He left out the part about the stint in juvie, his messy relationships, the strange, almost life-like dreams he’d had of monsters and larger than life people, and his weird strength that made him a hazard to be around. Nah, she didn’t need to know all that shit. It was in the past. He was well-centered now and hadn’t accidentally broken anyone’s bones since high school. She still looked pissed. “You never tried to find your birth parents?” He cleared his throat. Damn. This was why he hated anyone discovering he was an orphan. They always wanted to know if he’d looked for his parents. He hadn’t. If they hadn’t wanted him, he didn’t need to know who they were. If they were dead, then it didn’t matter anyway, did it? They hadn’t been there at any point in his life, so it wasn’t like he had an attachment to them. But saying that made him look like a total bastard. He shrugged. Fire kindled in her eyes. Why that gave him an erection, he couldn’t have said, but there it was. Of course, he had a feeling she could threaten to shoot him, and he’d still get hard for her. “Does it really matter?” he asked her. “Yes.” Her answer was a low hiss. “What, you have something against orphans?” It was a joke, but the light in her eyes was anything but amused. She took a deep breath and nodded shortly. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, we’ll leave it at that.” She stood, looking like a million bucks in jeans. His cock throbbed. He wanted to pull her back in bed with him. He even opened his mouth to ask her if she’d like to sit on his face, when a pair of jeans flew at his head. He caught them and looked at her. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.” She walked out his bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her. Mason looked at his jeans, looked at the door, then looked at his cock. Yeah, maybe he should get up. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for fun. But where exactly were they going? He frowned at the closed door.

He crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to take a piss. Once in the bathroom though, he was reminded of his morning breath and eau du sex that clung to him. He jumped in the shower, glad his time in crowded foster homes had taught him the value of a very quick morning routine. He was out of the bathroom in six minutes and had only nicked his chin once with the razor. When he walked out of the bedroom, he thought for a moment Roxana had gone, but he found her standing in the far corner of the living room staring out of the window. She had a cell phone pressed to her ear and a thoughtful expression on her face. “Yeah, I don’t have a lot of time for this one. The full moon’s in about three days.” She paused, tension riding her shoulders. “I know, but I can’t. We’ll have to go another time.” She laughed, though it sounded forced. “Sure thing, hon. You know you’re my favorite man in the whole wide world.” The affection in her voice pissed him off more than her words. Who the hell was her favorite man in the world? He should be after all the orgasms he’d given her. His knuckles cracked as his hands fisted at his sides. He’d kill the bastard. No, killing was bad. Right. Turning away from the tempting sight of Roxana, he headed to the center of the living room. He shoved the coffee table out of his way. Mason forced his breath to even out as he searched for his center. It was harder to achieve than normal, and he blamed it all on Roxana’s favorite man. The bastard. That was not helpful. He needed to relax, calm himself. He began the opening forms of his morning Tai Chi regimen. After only a few sets, his body was relaxed, loose, his mind clear. He saw the night with Roxana as the gift it had been. With his eyes closed, he could see how they had bonded, not just physically, but spiritually. Their bodies had melded together. He knew she had to have felt it. Roxana didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who let a man lead her in anything. Yet she’d let him take her. She trusted him. She might not realize she trusted him, but she did. He came to the end of his routine, feeling relaxed and calm. His eyes opened and zeroed in on the woman leaning against the wall. Her eyes were narrowed on him, the air of menace around her mixed with confusion.

“What?” He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead and started for the fridge. “You want some coffee or something?” He grabbed a bottle of water and was twisting off the cap when something slammed into the back of his head, rocking it forward. He grunted as his head met the freezer door. Rubbing the throbbing spot on his forehead, he turned to glare at the woman who’d just hit him with his lead doorstop. “You want juice instead?” **** Roxana wanted to scream. The beast threatened to emerge, but she grappled with her rage. He was good. She had to give him that. He had the clueless male act down pat. He rubbed the spot on the back of his head where she’d clocked him with the lead door stopper, but didn’t attempt to attack her. Yeah, he was a godling all right. Bastard. He was just human enough to be vulnerable, but he was close enough to his transition that his body could take punishment. She’d love to strangle him to prove her suspicions, but she was supposed to be protecting the lying bastard, not killing him herself. And what had been with that martial arts thing he’d been doing? She was pretty sure he’d done it to make her relax her guard, and damn her, it worked. He was such a perfect blend of brute strength and grace she’d been mesmerized by his precise, controlled movements. It had reminded her all too clearly of the way he moved when he was inside her. It didn’t matter though. In the end, none of it mattered. He was her charge until she got him to Zeus’s temple. She’d hoped she could knock him out and transport him without having to deal with more lies, but no, he was as hardheaded as she’d suspected. Literally. She scratched the plan which included a pair of handcuffs and a ball-gag out of the window. Dammit. And it would’ve been so much fucking fun, too. Distant sounds of breaking windows from downstairs stopped her inner tirade. Her eyes met Mason’s. Suspicion glittered in the green depths. His shoulders bunched as his hands curled into fists. He looked ready to kick ass. Footsteps pounded up the stairs towards the apartment. The tingle of power heralded the arrival of Olympians. Damn. They’d found him already. It sucked, too, because she hadn’t had time to ready herself for the assignment.

Roxana sighed loudly, grabbed Mason’s arm and dragged him across the apartment to the window looking out onto the street. His eyes were on the door as the footsteps came closer. He moved to stand between her and the door, his big body tense, ready for a fight. The sweet musk of snakes filtered into the apartment, and Roxana wrinkled her nose. Lamia. Hera knew Roxana hated snakes. Mason’s nostrils flared. Could he scent the same thing she did? She shook her head. Impossible, he was still mostly human; his senses weren’t that sharp yet. He stood, poised and bristling with violence, ready to take them apart, but he’d die in the attempt. Only full immortals could go against the lamia with any hope of surviving. “C’mon, He-Man, we have to get out of here.” She punched out the glass. “What the—” Mason shouted, anger and surprise clear in his voice. Roxana ignored his roar and leapt up. She balanced on the ledge with half of Mason’s body along with her when the apartment door splintered beneath the charge of bodies. She didn’t spare a look backwards, launching herself off her perch with Mason in her whiteknuckled grip. They only fell one story, and her knees absorbed the shock of hitting the ground, but Mason splatted like a pancake. Roxana winced. He got up swearing, so he wasn’t really hurt; but she still felt kind of bad about it. Especially when she saw red drops under his nose. What the hell. She was a hardened Enforcer. She didn’t give a damn about anything but her baby brother and her charge account at Saks Fifth Avenue. She didn’t waste time worrying about what the gods and their offspring did unless it was related directly to her or her job, except she didn’t like seeing him hurt for some reason. She frowned. “Woman, are you crazy? What the fuck is going on? Who were those people, and why in the hell did you throw me out of the window instead of letting me deal with them?” His face was dark with anger, and she liked it. Even in the midst of this unexpected turn of events, he was more attractive than she could stand. “Okay, look, you need to stop talking and listen to me.” She shook his arm. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it has to stop now. You’re in danger, which I’m sure you know, and I’m

supposed to protect you. That means no running into trouble, no playing, and no pissing off the bodyguard, which is me. Got it?” “What are you talking about?” He’d gone from angry to furious. It was a good look for him. With his eyebrows lowered over his green eyes, his cheekbones flushed, and mouth tight, he looked the same way he did when he came. She shivered. “Cut the bullshit, Mason. You had a good laugh at me. You screwed the maenad half-breed Enforcer. Ha. Ha.” She glared at him before turning her eyes up to his apartment. The lamia peered down at them. “Dammit. We don’t have time for this. We have to go before those bitches catch up with us.” **** Mason followed the direction of her gaze and gaped at the sight of the naked females in his window. They didn’t look right. Their skin glistened in the sunlight, and were those forked tongues? What. The. Hell. This morning was not going the way he’d planned. Roxana wasn’t acting the way he’d wanted her to; she’d punched out his window, thrown him out of it, and then started talking shit about being his bodyguard. Now, weird looking women were in his apartment. But for some reason, he’d almost expected something like this. He remembered that feeling of expectation he’d felt in the air when he’d awakened. No, it hadn’t just been Roxana’s pissed-off attitude. It had been the arrival of these people things. Even their scent was distinctly inhuman, like they were some kind of beasts. Looking at them now, he suspected they were more like monsters. Roxana pulled on his arm, urging him away from his apartment. Territorial rage tore through him with the strength of an F5 tornado. He saw those strange looking women in his place; he wanted to rip those bitches’ little heads off. He hadn’t felt a rage like this in so long, he’d almost forgotten how overwhelming it could be, but he almost welcomed the tidal wave of fury. He took a step towards the building, but Roxana almost jerked him off his feet. He spun around with a roar. He would put her over his knee and paddle her ass after he dealt with the reptile chicks. He was cut off in mid-roar, his eyes captured by bronze eyes nearly on level with his own. He blinked, looking left and right, wondering if Roxana’s game involved a taller, Amazonian sister. His mind churned, trying to

figure out what he was seeing, but the only explanation was so impossible as to be insane. There was no way in hell Roxana had grown nearly a foot. He stared. Her eyes narrowed on him beneath the brim of a golden helmet. He blinked hard and looked this not-quite-Roxana person over. She wore some kind of armor that gleamed in the morning light. A breastplate molded to her chest with intricate scrollwork drawing his eyes to the mound of flesh exposed above it. It almost looked like a metal corset and hot as shit. Her round hips and long legs were encased in a pair of thick leather pants. Tall boots hugged her feet and calves. Much longer legs than his Roxana had. His eyes were drawn back to her cleavage where the network of scars was plainly visible. He’d traced his tongue over every inch of her skin last night and knew he’d recognize the pattern anywhere. It was Roxana. It had to be. Yet she’d grown like the Hulk. And she was hotter than fucking ever. How much would he have paid as an adolescent boy to see a woman in his room dressed exactly like this? He’d have sold his soul in a heartbeat. Hell, he still might. A metal gauntlet encased her hand which still clutched his arm. She’d pulled her fiery hair away from her face and held it in place with the half-helmet of shiny gold. She looked like some kind of Xena Princess Warrior hybrid, except much hotter. His mind raced with questions. “What the fuck? Roxana?” He felt like he was going crazy, his mind whipping this way and that, comparing the Roxana from last night with this one and seeing the similarities and the obvious differences. “You – You’re tall,” he said lamely, his brain finally short-circuiting on him. She rolled her eyes at him and tugged his arm to get him moving. He went with her, amazed she could move silently in her bigger body while encased in so much metal. She looked super sexy, and he felt like a complete pervert to be thinking about how he wanted to bend her over, or wrap those mile-long legs around his waist as he hammered into her. “What’s going on, Roxana? And don’t lie to me. How did you grow? Who are you? What were those things up there? Where are we going?”

She grabbed his arm to lead him away, but he stood his ground. “I want answers, woman!” She muttered something like, “screw your answers”, but he wasn’t entirely sure that’s what she said. With a strength Mason found both alarming and goddamn arousing, she jerked him off his feet again. She led him down the street until they reached an alley. “We don’t have time for all of that right now. We need to get away before they catch up with us.” She pulled her cell phone out of her cleavage and dialed a number. Though he was still curious about what was going on, he couldn’t resist the urge to peek down her breastplate to see what else she might be hiding in there. Her gloved hand covered his face and shoved him back. “Down, boy.” Her eyes narrowed on the opening of the alley. “Brice? Yeah, it’s me. I need a pick up.” She stared up at Mason. “Two. Better hurry. We have lamias on our asses.” She sighed. “I hate ‘em too, but a job’s a job. Just get down here before I get really upset, okay?” She slipped the phone back in her cleavage before turning back to him. “We have someone coming to get us, but we need to keep moving. They’ll be on us once they realize they have to go back down the stairs to get us. They’re not the brightest bulbs in the pack, but they’re still vicious.” “Why don’t you call the cops?” Or the men in little white coats because I’ve evidently gone crazy. See, he could be rational. But she looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Apparently she shared his feelings on his sanity. “Bring humans into this? Are you crazy, man?” She snorted and walked towards the side street. “Call the cops. As if.” “What do you mean humans? What’s going on? You’re not really Roxana, right? You’re her twin, or something.” He looked around again for the female he’d had sex with, even while part of his brain called him an idiot for still thinking this was a plot. She whirled around, her ponytail snaking behind her. Her eyes were slits of pure fury. “You know exactly what’s going on, you bastard. You had your fun. It’s time to stop playing around and do as I say so I can drop you in your family’s lap.”

His heart pounded as adrenaline flowed through his body like hot lava. He charged towards her. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move. No, the fool woman stepped up to him which was enough to stop him in his tracks, but did nothing to stem his anger. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is. Right now, I almost don’t even care, but I want answers, and I want them now!” “Yessss, maenad, tell him what he wantsss to know.” The sibilant voice raised the hair on the back of his neck. He turned to see three of those … lamias? That’s what Roxana had called them on the phone, standing at the entrance of the alley. The scent he’d caught in his apartment was stronger, and he recognized it as animal musk. Up close he could see they didn’t have skin like people. Instead, their skin was scaly and pearlescent, like a snake’s. They were beautiful in a freakish way. Each of them had long, flowing waves of gold hair. They should’ve looked exotic, and they would have if it hadn’t been for their yellow eyes and oblong pupils. He shuddered at the alien coldness in those eyes. The worse part of this whole mess was they almost looked familiar, like he’d seen them before in the many fucked-up dreams he’d had throughout his life. In those dreams, he’d watched as beings similar to these had battled against giants. Hell, he’d even fought against them in dreams. But this, apparently, was reality. And it blew. “Sssweet godling,” the one in the center said. Her tongue flicked out. Yeah, creepy much? “We don’t have to take you back, ssso we can play with you asss long asss we like.” “Shit.” Roxana’s whispered curse brought his attention back to her. She wasn’t even looking in the same direction he was. Using the weird senses he’d had since childhood, he detected more of the strange snake women behind him. They were surrounded. Her hand gripped his arm, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the three women creeping towards them. “Don’t let them bite you. Their bite is paralytic as well as venomous. You can’t kill them, but you can slow them down by breaking their necks. I’ll finish them off as soon as I can.” There was a hint of concern in her voice when she spoke next. “Can you do that?” He swallowed budding laughter when he saw how completely serious Not-Quite-Roxana was. He looked at the weird, circling

women. He’d been in enough street fights to sense a real threat, and these women practically dripped with menace. It went against everything in his nature to hurt a woman, but these broads creeped him out. If they were as lethal as they appeared to be, he’d feel bad about it later. “Yeah.” He hoped. She chuckled. “Good boy. Go get ‘em, killer.” Why didn’t that inspire confidence in him? He squared off with the three slinky women coming towards him. They were so tiny, he felt like a bully, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in well over twenty years. He couldn’t hurt them. No, he’d have to stall them or something. He prayed Roxana was joking about “finishing them off” because didn’t want to have to pick up another girlfriend from jail. That always sucked balls.

Chapter Five She hoped she didn’t lose Heracles’s boy before she got a chance to kick his ass for lying to her. She’d have to think about that later. Right now, she had more to worry about than some lying man. The lamias had split into two groups, five converging on her side of the alley, and three on Mason’s. No doubt they knew his mortal ass was pre-transitional and vulnerable. If he’d had his godhead, or at least an ounce more power, he could’ve conjured armor like she had, but he didn’t. Heracles should’ve known better than to leave his kid out in the wilds of the world without the means to protect himself from the baddies of the Olympic vaults. Lamias were bad news under normal circumstances. Give them a goal and a free meal, and they were tenacious as junkyard dogs. The Furies had warned her Zeus’s wife had nasty plans for Mason, and Roxana agreed with them. Hera wasn’t pulling any punches with this attack. Comfortable in her giantess body in a way she wasn’t in her abnormal human body, Roxana conjured her staff, a sweet gift from Teensy, and twirled it experimentally. It’d been a while since she used it, but some skills you never lose. The lamias studied her and split up, three to one side, two to the other. She felt more than heard Mason move away from her, and hoped he didn’t get himself killed. She didn’t have time to think after that. The lamia came at her in a concerted effort. Spinning left, she used the end of her staff to stab the nearest one through the throat. The lamia fell back with a gurgled scream, but the reprieve wouldn’t last long. Whirling to the right, she barely avoided sharp fangs, but used her attacker’s momentum to shove her face-first into the brick wall. The other three converged on Roxana in a hissing, stinking attack. Fangs sank into her arm between her chainmail and gauntlet. She swallowed a scream and grabbed a handful of long hair to pull the biter’s head back. She twisted sharply, snapping the little bitch’s neck. Two down, three to go. Her arm throbbed in time with her heartbeat. The venom the little shit had pumped into her would start affecting her within the next two hours, so she didn’t have a lot of time to play. She needed to take them down fast before she was paralyzed.

She conjured her blessed seax. A beauty of a dagger, and only effective on demonic creatures, she’d gotten it from Hephaestus, the god of metal and a weaponsmith who knew his craft. Luckily. She struck out at the closest lamia with the knife in one hand and the staff in the other, sweeping the lamia off her feet, and buried the seax in her throat. Without pause, Roxana whirled to beat back the creature behind her, giving the fifth lamia a chance to attack. A soft grunt escaped her as the bitch jumped on her back and tried to push Roxana’s head to the side to bare her throat. Caught between the two, she slashed out at the body on her with the seax and connected with flesh. The lamia screamed and broke her hold on Roxana’s throat. With only one left to focus on, she attacked the remaining beast. Pointed teeth dripping with venom gleamed in the light and ruined any beauty the lamia might have claimed. Roxana didn’t bother getting close to her. Instead she threw the seax with deadly aim and buried it deep in the lamia’s mouth. The bitch choked on the weapon, and the blood filled her throat as she fell to the ground. Flesh sizzled as the lamia shrank in on herself until she resembled nothing more than a shriveled shell. Leaning over, Roxana tugged the seax free and finished off the last of her kills before turning her attention back to Mason. He still fought two of them, and she could see he was trying not to hurt them. She rolled her eyes. Men were so easily distracted by tits and ass they forgot females were more deadly than males. Idiots. She dissolved her staff since she was sure she and Mason could take them on without it. She sauntered over, studying Mason’s movements. He was sharp, though still not using lethal force against the females. He should’ve wiped the floor with the lamia. Instead, he looked as though he were playing paddy-cake. Roxana casually reached out and stabbed the closest lamia. She died with a scream, bringing both Mason’s and the remaining lamia’s attention to her. “I’m sorry. Were you saving her for later?” Consternation burned in his green eyes as he looked from her to the fallen lamia. Yeah, he looked disgusted and slightly horrified. She gave a mental shrug. It wouldn’t be the first time one of her assignments didn’t approve of her work ethic. Like she gave a damn.

It kept her alive and kept her brother in video games. That’s all she needed. She ignored the tiny voice in her head that said she was such a liar. “Should I wait for you to finish playing with this one, or do you want me to kill it?” His head turned as the lamia launched herself at him, fangs bared. Roxana’s heart plunged. Crap! Quick as the snake the lamia actually was, Roxana slashed out with the seax, slicing the bitch’s throat. It fell to the ground between her and Mason’s feet. They both stared at the husk for several seconds before Mason snatched the seax from her hand. He was so fast, she hadn’t had a chance to react, but she didn’t show him her surprise. It never did any good to let a man know when he caught you off guard. So he was further along his transition than she’d thought. That’s what she got for assuming anything. “What the hell is this?” he asked, turning the seax over in his big hands. Was it weird of her to find the way he cradled the weapon sexy? Yeah. Because he would be one of them, the upper echelon of Olympic society. He was destined, by right of birth, for a cushy executive job, while Roxy would still be wading through the chaos the gods left in their wake. Once he spent time with his own kind, he’d treat her just as shittily as the others did. Roxana beat back her inner slut and grabbed the seax back from him. He didn’t fight her, his face paling as he looked down. “Holy shit.” The lamia he’d managed to incapacitate with a broken neck, moved, her body rippling as the fracture healed. The bitches were almost indestructible unless confronted with a blessed weapon like Roxana’s seax. She crouched over the body and stabbed it quickly and efficiently. She dissolved the weapon with a thought and dusted her hands. Her arm throbbed like a mother. She’d have to have the bite taken care of soon, but once again, she refused to show any weakness in front of another. She’d be fine. All she needed was a good, hot shower, and a change of clothes or she’d start foaming at the mouth. She ignored Mason who’d come to breathe down her neck and glanced at her watch. Brice should be showing up any moment.

The solid thumping of bass reverberated through the alley. She thought her ear drums would burst, but they never did. Which sort of sucked because at least then she wouldn’t have to listen to the crap her Retriever called music. She’d never been so relieved to hear bodyshaking bass before in her life. “That’s our ride.” She started towards the black Dodge Charger, her mind only on her apartment and that shower. And maybe some medicine. Mason’s hand reached out and stopped her in her tracks. Irritated now, she glared up at him. She wasn’t sure what his expression meant, but she didn’t like him grabbing her like she was some kind of possession. “Let me explain something to you, godling.” She set her teeth in a parody of a smile and spoke through them so Brice would think everything was hunky-dory. “I’m your bodyguard until I can put you in your family’s hands. That does not give you the right to touch me.” “You didn’t seem to mind me putting my hands all over you last night.” The arrogant prick. She counted to twenty because ten would not do. “Last night was a mistake that won’t be repeated.” She peeled his fingers off her arm and stalked to the waiting car. Brice had the driver’s window down, his dual-colored eyes trained on Mason. “That’s the new assignment?” he asked when she folded herself into the car. Roxana sighed at the asinine question. “No, I frequently pick up human males for shits and giggles.” His bronze face paled. “Sorry, boss.” She waved her hand. “It’s okay. It’s just been a long morning.” And an even longer night. Brice tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel and stared at Mason who stood in the alley with a dark expression on his face. “Is he going to stand there all day?” Roxana rolled down the window. “Are you coming? Or do you want to see if we can attract a few more monsters to fight?” **** He glared at her, knowing his wants meant jack shit to her. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time, and he felt

like he was dangling over the edge of a cliff. One wrong move would send him hurtling to disaster. What he wanted to do was spank her juicy ass. He hadn’t liked fighting those women. He looked down at their rapidly disintegrating bodies. Okay, so they were definitely not human. But he especially didn’t like Roxana’s superior attitude, and he hated not knowing what was going on. She’d grown into a tall, voluptuous woman in a split second. She’d changed her clothes in the same amount of time. She kept saying she was his bodyguard assigned to deliver him to his family, but what had been with the night of wild sex she seemed to regret? And where did she get off talking shit about a family he’d never met, or wanted to meet? That feeling of expectation rose again. It was like he stood at a crossroads, except he had no idea what he faced. So he concentrated on the concrete. He eyed the large man in the driver’s seat of the prime Charger, wondering if he was Roxana’s “most favorite man in the world”. Aggression he hadn’t been able to take out on the small females roared through him with a vengeance. He tried to temper it with the breathing exercises he’d learned to calm himself, but nothing worked. Rage filled him, not only at Roxana, but at the circumstances. He hated the sense of confusion and uncertainty her words caused. He especially hated the easy camaraderie she shared with the other man. The male got out of the car, his frame unfolding and unfolding until he stood at a clear seven feet. As if that wasn’t impressive, he was built like a tank. Dark skin stretched over a face only a mother could love, or possibly a crazy uptown bitch with a magic knife. Mason’s hands fisted at his sides. The guy had freaky eyes, one pale blue, the other dark brown. The man crossed his arms and smiled with easy insolence. “You got a problem, man?” Yeah, he had a problem. Mason’s life was out of control, and he’d felt it from the moment Roxy walked into his bar, but this situation, this jealousy, was something he could deal with. This guy was asking for trouble. Well, he’d at least one thing he wanted. Mason charged at the other man with the intent to maim. He ran into something invisible, but completely solid, that knocked him on his ass. He slid over the

pavement a few feet, his jeans doing nothing to protect him. He shook his head as stars danced in front of his eyes. What the hell was that? Roxana rolled down the window. “Mason, would you please get in the car? I want to go home and change my clothes.” Her head went back in the window as it slid up. It stopped and rolled back down. “And don’t try to hurt Brice anymore. It won’t do you any good anyway.” The window slid closed. The giant, Brice, shrugged his big shoulders with a contrite grin. “Sorry, man. As much as I love a round of kick-ass, I can’t when I’m on the job.” He held a huge hand out to Mason, who refused it. There was no way he was going to be friendly with Roxana’s favorite man. He glowered at him as he came to his feet, but the big man only shrugged again before getting in the vehicle. This had to be the weirdest day he’d ever had. He looked down the street towards his bar. The windows were busted out, and already the neighborhood shits were looting. Sirens in the distance told him the police were on the way. They’d be looking for him. He took a step toward his home, but stopped even with the back window of the car. Roxana slid it open again, her bronze eyes shielded by a pair of dark sunglasses. “There’s nothing you can do.” There might’ve been a hint of regret in her voice, but it was so minimal Mason was sure he’d imagined it. “You can’t go back to that life without more coming after you. Trust me. It can’t be done.” Her cell rang, and she fished it out of her cleavage. “Just come with us, and we’ll get you to safety.” She rolled the window back up as she answered the phone. “Oh, hey, sweetie pie!” So the giant wasn’t her favorite man. Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. He looked at the car, then at his bar. He recognized several of the looters as some of his customers, people he’d gotten to know over the years. Not a single one of them seemed to care that he wasn’t around, didn’t look as though they even worried about him. Well, shit. So much for the neighborhood watch program. He could go with Roxy, find out exactly what the hell was going on, discover who wanted him dead, or he could go back to the boring, everyday life he’d been living for the last twenty years. His body itched from the inside out at the thought of returning to his old life. Did he really have a choice? This weird shit seemed almost normal considering the peculiar life he’d led. Besides, if he stayed

here, he wouldn’t be able to explore the fire that existed between him and Roxy. And find out all of her secrets. That decided it for Mason. He walked around the car to get in the passenger seat. Roxana was no longer on the phone. She ignored him when he looked at her. Contrary witch. The giant started the car. Bass thumbed as someone rapped about “La Coca Nostra”. Mason gave a mental shrug and stared out the window as they drove away from his life. He’d get to the bottom of this family shit and find out why all of a sudden Roxana didn’t want anything to do with him. Because he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not by a long shot. He didn’t even question his sudden, strange urge to have a woman in his life because Roxana wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever had. **** Hera, CEO of the Hearth and Home division of Olympus, Inc., stared at her manicured fingernails. She’d spent so much time organizing and aiding humans with their little humble homes, she should be able to arrange her own with no trouble. But unfortunately for her, and her employees, things never went the way she planned. She sighed. “Are you telling me Roxana Love is on this job?” The lamia, Xychxana, clutched her hands together, her tail twitching. “Um, yesss, missstressss.” Wonderful. Simply wonderful. “And the godling? Is he strong?” Stupid question. If the godling was the son of that degenerate ass, Heracles, who was a product of her own dear Zeus, the godling would be a powerhouse. “Yesss.” Not good. Roxana wasn’t overly fond of Hera, and she happened to be one of the best Enforcers the company had. She was, in fact, the first Enforcer the corporation had initiated. Sort of like a prototype, but she had an attitude like an angry bear and the strength of twenty gladiators. Where Hera preferred using subterfuge and cunning to get a job done, Roxana was brute strength and hard-toshift loyalty. Hera didn’t understand the woman, not at all, and understanding the enemy would be the only way to ensure victory. Or something like that. “Missstresss, she hasss the ssseax from Hephaestus.”

Hera glared at Xychxana for mentioning her disgusting son. She never allowed any mention of the volcano and metal god in her presence. Her one time to get back at Zeus and she gave birth to a monster. The lamia cringed pitifully. “I know, I know. Don’t worry, I won’t be sending you or your people back out there. She really does hate snakes, and she’d love nothing more than to wipe you all from the face of the earth.” Hera drummed her fingers on the walnut desk in front of her. She didn’t want to anger Roxana more than she absolutely had to, but she needed to get rid of that godling before the full moon. The last thing she wanted was another reminder of her husband’s infidelities. Zeus and Heracles had so many bastards running around, it shouldn’t bother her anymore, but she’d had enough. “I’ll find someone else to take care of the godling.” She narrowed her eyes on Xychxana’s relieved face. “Don’t expect you’re getting out of this entirely, my dear. You and yours will go after Akakios. We need Roxana’s cooperation if we’re going to finish this task.” Xychxana gulped, her eyes widening. Hera waved her hand in dismissal of the now quivering lamia. Roxana normally was quite the killer, but threaten her beloved brother and she’d either fall apart, or slaughter everything in her path. Hera was betting she’d fall apart. She hoped. **** Roxana’s nerves were a mess by the time they made it to Broussard. The traffic in Lafayette had been atrocious, which was normal first thing in the morning, but it hadn’t helped her mood any. Brice kept up a running commentary on the traffic, the people driving, and even, sadly enough, his hopes that the Saints would make it to the Super Bowl again. Mason hadn’t said a word other than a few grunts now and then. He looked back at her a few times as though expecting her to say something, to open a topic of conversation, or do something. What, she couldn’t have said. He’d gotten what he wanted from her, and she hoped that was the end of it. Of course, her body still wanted him. Not even the discomfort from her wound could completely erase the low-level thrum of lust she felt for Mason. Though she’d kept her attention on the passing scenery, her thoughts were on him and the way he’d made her feel the night before. How many times had she come anyway? Half a dozen?

She should’ve been well-sated, but no, her inner slut wanted more. He was way off limits; otherwise she might’ve been tempted to keep him for herself. She stifled a snort. She didn’t have the time or the inclination to be in any type of relationship, even a sexual one. She lived at the whims of the executives of Olympus, Inc., and when she wasn’t doing their dirty work, she spent the rest of her time caring for her younger brother. Akakios liked to think he could watch out for himself, but he was far too innocent and vulnerable to be let loose on the world. She bowed down to the executives’ orders for that reason alone. Otherwise she’d tell them to suck it. She leaned her head against the seat. Well, maybe not the Furies and a few select others, but most of them wouldn’t listen to her anyway. The only good thing to come of the entire morning as far as she could tell was now she didn’t have to hide her size from the liar. Brice, she was happy to see, pulled into the closed gate community leading to her townhouse before she could dwell on thoughts of actually having friends. She shuddered. No, she did not have friends. She had people she killed, people she’d love to kill, and people she would think twice about killing. Simple as that. They parked in the garage and waited until the door closed to get out of the car. A sigh of relief escaped Roxana as she was back on her own territory again. The wards were up and running strong. Thank the gods. She wasn’t sure she could handle much more today. Mason looked around curiously, but she ignored him as she led the way into the decontamination room. “Strip,” she ordered as she proceeded to remove all of her armor. Brice, used to the requirements to enter her home, had already stripped out of his clothes. They’d both worked in the field for so long nudity wasn’t a big deal for them. He had nothing she wanted, and he considered her one of the guys, so he didn’t even look at her. Mason, on the other hand, looked stunned. His gaze went from her naked body to Brice and back again. Lust and jealousy warred on his face. She sighed. She didn’t want Brice to know her disappearance the night before had anything to do with Mason. She wanted to keep it private, but that wouldn’t happen if the damned godling didn’t get a handle on his emotions.

“We have to decontaminate before we enter the house.” She kept her voice firm and dispassionate. Okay, so she wanted a look at his naked body, but it was a desire secondary to Akakios’s health. “We can’t move to the next stage until you’re out of your clothes.” His jaw ticked as he stripped off his shirt. Roxana turned her back to him. She did not want to see that sexy body displayed. Her nipples were hard, and the low-level lust skyrocketed; but she ruthlessly pushed it back. **** Mason’s breath left his body as he got a good look at her back. Even after all the sex they’d had the night before, he’d never had a chance to see her entire body. She was gorgeous, of course. From head to toe, she was his ideal of feminine perfection, especially with her added height. She had satiny skin the color of caramel stretched over abundant curves and muscles lining her body. The dip of her waist, the roundness of her hips, her long legs, all of it added up to beauty in his eyes. But it was the multitude of brutal scars on her back that had him sucking in a breath. They crisscrossed her back, though most of them were centered under her left shoulder blade. Deep scarring pooled there as though someone had attempted to dig out her heart from the back. His stomach clenched at the pain she must’ve suffered. His scars had come as a requirement during his youth when he ran with a gang. He couldn’t help but wonder what had caused hers, but suspected it would take a hell of a lot of convincing to get her to tell him. So focused on the scars marring her beautiful skin, he only belatedly realized he’d removed all of his clothes as she ordered. He wasn’t a shy man, but there was something strange about standing buck ass naked with another man and a woman. He didn’t want to look at Brice because it felt damned awkward. Roxana, he noticed, didn’t even glance back at the two naked men behind her as she led the way into another room connected to the first. It wasn’t hard to follow her, though it did take quite an effort on Mason’s part not to throw wood as he watched her ass sway away from him. She led the way into what looked like one of those decontamination rooms he’d seen on television. Once they were all inside, the door behind Mason sealed shut, and a soft hissing escaped

the vents in the ceiling and walls. The air smelled strange to him as it wafted over his body. His skin pebbled at the icy breeze. “Why are we doing this?” Why was he doing any of this? He’d gone along with a woman he’d picked up the night before and hadn’t questioned her much at all. She didn’t respond, though her shoulders tightened. “Are you going to tell me anything?” Because he was starting to feel more than a little pissed off. He had no idea what those lamia things had been or why they’d broken into his bar and come after him and Roxana. He didn’t know what he’d run into that surrounded Brice, and he sure as shit didn’t know how the hell Roxana had grown, changed her clothes, and produced weapons without leaving his sight. He wanted some answers. Soon. The air stopped hissing, and another door opened, this one leading directly into the house. Roxana sashayed through. She grabbed an ivory silk robe from the hook hanging next to the door and took a plainer, pink robe down and threw it at Mason’s head. Brice, he saw, had his own robe. The bastard. He glared at him as he tightened his sash. When he looked back, Roxana was nowhere in sight. He hoped she’d gone to put on some clothes. While he waited, Mason wandered around her townhouse. Yeah, he’d been right the night before. She was all uptown. If the gated community hadn’t been enough evidence, her home was extravagant. Instead of the narrow townhouse he’d expected, she’d obviously bought two and combined them into one. The living room was massive with sleek, hardwood floors that gleamed in the morning light. The shell-colored walls were lined with paintings the likes of which he’d never seen before in real life. The deep brown sofas were elegant, but comfortable-looking. The place was luxurious, yet it still had a lived in feel to it, as though she actually let people sit on her furniture. Strolling across the room to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows, he saw the windows were actually old style plantation doors. A long porch wrapped around the back of the townhouse before sinking down to a courtyard which rolled gently to a small lake at the rear of the property. Yeah, this woman was loaded. If he hadn’t spent the entire night eliciting screams of pleasure from her, he might’ve been

intimidated, but he knew what she looked like naked. That always put people on the same playing field. He heard her speaking to someone in another room, heard a deep voice answer and knew she spoke with her “favorite man”. He ground his teeth together. Anger sizzled along his nerves. She was his woman. Sort of. Damn it. “You want some coffee or something? She’ll probably be a while with Akakios.” Brice, the giant, had returned to the room, this time wearing jeans and a T-shirt. “You live here?” The giant shrugged as he led the way to the kitchen. Mason paused in the doorway. Wow. That was all he could think. The kitchen was like something out of a magazine, all stainless steel and marble. Brice moved around easily, completely at home in the elaborate room. “I stay here when we’re working. I’m her partner and distant cousin, Brice Melanos.” He reached out to shake Mason’s hand. Since the man was kin to Roxana, Mason gladly took it. “Roxana doesn’t really like people invading her privacy, but when we have a job, I need to be available at any given moment.” He started a pot of coffee and leaned against the counter with his big arms crossed over his chest. “What is it you actually do?” Mason asked Brice, playing it cool even though he was stark naked beneath a pink robe. “I’m a Retriever for the company. Roxana calls, and I go get her.” “That’s it? Like a chauffer or something?” What a lame job! The giant’s mouth quirked slightly. “Considering the scrape you were in this morning, do you doubt how important my job is?” Mason pursed his lips. “Good point.” “So you’re the godling,” the big man said as he poured them each a cup of coffee and relaxed against the counter with his mug. Mason copied Brice’s stance and frowned. “Why does everyone keep calling me that?” One of Brice’s eyebrows rose at his tone and words. A look of speculation crossed his face. “I’ll let Roxana handle that question.” He smiled. “You want some clothes?”

“What, pink isn’t my color?” Pink. It was a damn good thing he was secure in his manhood. Roxana knew it as well. She had to after the sweaty, body-twisting sex they’d had the night before. “Oh, I don’t know. It brings out the color of your eyes. I could always ask Roxana if she’s willing to give up one of her dresses if you like.” Mason couldn’t help but laugh. Yeah, okay so maybe the guy wasn’t that bad. He heard Roxana laugh in another room, and his amusement faded. He was going to kill someone. “Yeah, clothes would be good.” “Cool. Let’s get you set up before I’m overcome with lust.” The guy was weird, but Mason found Brice’s twisted humor comforting. He followed him out of the kitchen to a room far away from Roxana and her lover. It was probably for the best. He didn’t think she’d approve of blood on her floors. The rest of the house was just as gorgeous and luxurious as the show areas, Mason saw as he peered at Brice’s room. The giant moved slowly, pulling jeans and a T-shirt out of a duffle bag. “You don’t unpack?” Mason asked curiously. He never unpacked when he stayed somewhere, but he was used to running from the law because of the women he’d dated. The big guy shrugged. “I never know when Roxy’s gonna throw me out for getting on her nerves.” He passed the clothes over to Mason with a warning look. “She’s not very tolerant.” “Yeah, I kind of got that,” he said wryly. Brice chuckled, clapping Mason on the back hard enough to pitch him to the floor. “She might not kill you after all.” The big man shook his head as he left the room. Mason looked at the doorway with a frown. Huh, he hadn’t realized it was an option.

Chapter Six The familiar scent of Akakios filled her senses, and for the first time since last night, she relaxed. He hugged her tight, his muscles bulging beneath her cheek. When had her little brother grown up? She shook her head. She didn’t want to think about the passage of time. It was too easy to get caught up in the should-haves and whatcould’ve-beens. “You’re okay?” His deep voice reminded her of boulders sliding against each other. She chuckled and pushed away to stare up at his face. “Of course I’m okay.” Thank the gods the sleeves of her robe were long, or he’d see the throbbing bite on her arm. She was equally glad Brice hadn’t seen it. That was all she needed: for Aki to freak out over her wound. “You’re okay?” He rolled his eyes at her question, finally letting go of her. “You ask me that every time you see me. Do I look like anything’s wrong with me?” He stood and lifted his arms inviting her inspection. Her gaze took in her brother, as though seeing him for the first time in a while. When had he grown so handsome? And he was; she wasn’t biased. In spite of the scars on his face and neck, he was a prime specimen of manhood. He was taller than she was by at least a foot, height they’d both inherited from their father. He’d filled out quite a bit since his last bout with illness. He positively glowed with health. Thank gods. His mysterious childhood illness had stuck around for far longer than anyone could have guessed. He hadn’t had much of a youth because of his health. Oh, she’d tried her best to make it up to him, but she’d had to cancel plans so many times because his health would take a sudden turn, leaving him hovering on death’s doorstep. She studied his eyes, his body language, and relief nearly left her boneless. He really was fine. Thank gods. Then she frowned at him. His bronze eyes were heavily lashed, so heavily lashed she thought she might smack him around from envy. Brice must’ve cut his hair recently because it showed off the carved perfection of his face. Damn, it was a good thing he never left their house because the women would be all over him. “Well?”

She snapped out of her thoughts. “You look good. No problems?” She was such a worrier when it came to him, but she couldn’t help it. Over three thousand years of caring for someone from infancy to adulthood didn’t mean you could just stop because he was ready. Or thought he was ready. He rolled his eyes again and sat in the massive recliner she’d bought him. “I’m fine, Mom. Do you want to check my temperature, too?” “Ass.” She smiled and sat in the chair next to him. “You brought someone with you.” Shit. The flush started at her toes and worked its way up to her hairline. She avoided looking at him. Instead, she studied the floor-toceiling bookcases that held his books, video games, and movies. He was a technophile, her little brother. One entire wall of his den was devoted to gaming while the other was where he spent his time “getting in touch with the outside world”. She sniffed. She wished he wouldn’t talk with those cyber geeks, but he had to have some contact with other people. She supposed. He was staring at her. She could feel it, and it made her blush harder. Damn her for not putting the fear of Roxana Love into him when he was a kid. If she would’ve beaten his ass instead of coddling him, maybe then he’d think twice about questioning her. She glanced at his arrested expression and slumped. She was a sap. “Yeah, I brought someone back with me. I didn’t have time to make other arrangements.” Curiosity and excitement sprang to life in his eyes. She swallowed a groan. He was going to— “You like him! Who is he? Can I meet him? How much is he worth? What’d he do?” He almost bounced in his chair, he was so eager. “Is he staying here? Does he game? Does he have a very sexy sister he wouldn’t mind me, ah, meeting?” Roxana laughed; she couldn’t help it. He was like a puppy with a toy. A horny puppy. She grimaced. She did not need to think about her brother as a sexual being. Her stomach flopped. Ugh. “He’s a spawn of Heracles. Not sure how much this job is worth yet since I haven’t talked with Zeus, but it has to be a lot.” She decided to leave out the tidbits about how good Mason was in bed and Hera wanting him dead; it would only prolong a conversation she’d

rather avoid. “I have no clue if he games. He has sisters, but they’re all one of them.” He slumped. “Damn.” Roxana hid a smile, which quickly faded as her body tingled with the unpleasant sensation of the lamia venom surging through her nervous system. It felt like liquid fire blazing through her body. Sweat broke out on her upper lip as she fought to hide her pain. She glanced at the clock on the wall. An hour since the bite. Damn. She was going to have a miserable morning. The venom was moving faster than she’d thought. She’d really hoped she would have more time to visit with Aki before she had to deal with the wound. “So can I meet him? I don’t ever get to meet any of the godlings.” The sweat on her lip was joined by beads on her brow as the fire flashed, and then a strange numbness spread throughout her upper body. “Aki.” Her voice was a harsh whisper as her vocal chords threatened to freeze as well. Her brother looked up, his face alert. His red-bronze eyes narrowed on her face. “Get. Brice.” He was on his feet and out the door bellowing for the Cyclops before she finished speaking. As much as she hated asking for help, for anything, even someone as stubborn as she couldn’t cope with a lamia bite alone. **** “Brice! Godsdamn you, where are you?” Mason spun around at the deep bellow, his heart thumping. There was panic in that deep voice, and he instinctively knew it had to do with Roxana. Brice moved around him, the slap of his bare feet on the floor sending urgency pounding through Mason’s body. He followed automatically, his eyes searching out the possible threat that had the big man in such a hurry. He entered the living area to see Brice meet up with a man even bigger than he was. Mason stumbled to a stop. Holy cow! He’d never seen such tall people in his life! From Roxana, who was perfection, to the hightower twins, he was feeling downright average. He was so stunned he forgot for a moment that this was Roxana’s favorite man.

But that thought roared back to the forefront of his mind as he took in the bastard’s pretty face. It would look much better rearranged, and he started forward with an inward growl. “Brice, something’s wrong with Roxy.” Mason felt as though he’d hit a brick wall. Something was wrong with his woman? He charged to the pretty boy and grabbed him by his Henley. “What did you do to her?” The man frowned down at Mason with eyes that were strangely familiar. “You’re the godling?” “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” he muttered under his breath. It wasn’t important right now. He took a better hold of the giant’s shirt and lifted him off his feet. “What did you do to Roxana?” Instead of looking intimidated, the bastard looked amused. “Dude, you lift weights or something?” “Akakios, enough screwing around, where is she?” Brice interrupted Mason’s growl. The amusement disappeared from Aki-something’s face, replaced by fear and worry. “She’s in my den.” He moved out of Mason’s hold as though they were merely shaking hands. If he hadn’t been so damned worried about Roxana, Mason was sure he would’ve been pissed with the ease Akakios had broken away from him, but that was a thought for later. He followed the other two men through the house until they reached a room any geek would love. But he only had eyes for the woman who sat frozen in a chair, her face pasty white with a greasy sheen of sweat covering her skin. Something squeezed in his chest. “Roxana.”His voice was a bare whisper of sound as he stepped around the two giants and dropped to his knees next to her. Her pupils were dilated with pain, but he easily detected the self-disgust in her eyes. She hated showing weakness, he knew, but damned if he was glad she hadn’t tried to handle this alone. “What happened?” Brice shoved him away as easily as a fly. Mason slid across the floor several feet before his back met the wall. Asshole. He surged back to his feet and fell next to the big man who looked over Roxana with a worried eye. “Dammit, Roxana, where is it?” His hands roamed over Roxana’s upper body, a fine tremble belying the anger in his voice.

“Where’s what?” Mason and Akakios asked at the same time. They shared a look before turning back to Brice. Her eyes, glazed with pain and fear slid to her left. The giant ripped the arm of her sleeve, and there on her forearm was a set of fang marks surrounded by an impression of human teeth. Mason’s stomach fell to his feet. Blood dotted the entrance wounds. Around the bites, it looked as though black flowers had bloomed beneath her skin. It stretched from the bite outward until it wrapped around her arm and shot up her veins like roots. “Damn!” “We have to get the poison out,” Brice muttered beneath his breath. He angled a sharp look at Aki-something. “Get my bag from my room.” Big Red whirled around and took off in a silent sprint. “What can I do?” Mason asked, his heart thundering. He couldn’t lose her, not before he paddled her ass and claimed her for his own. There was no way he was letting her go, no way in Hell. “There’s a bathroom through there,” Brice said with a jerk of his head to a doorway snug between two bookcases. “Bring lots of hot towels and a straight edge razor if you can find one.” Mason took off. He was almost positive those weren’t things used for regular snake bites. He couldn’t remember. His brain was a jumble of chaotic thoughts, but foremost in his mind was what would he do without Roxana? **** Roxana’s eyes followed Mason as he left the room a trot. Brice was such a shit. He didn’t need any of those things to get the poison out, and he didn’t need his bag either. She looked into his dual colored eyes, trying to convey her displeasure. He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I needed them out of my way for a minute. They were getting on my nerves.” She rolled her eyes, but squeezed them shut as the burning pain pulsed from her arm outward through the rest of her body. She was fully paralyzed now which meant the venom would begin the next phase. If the poison wasn’t stopped in time, it would break down her blood cells, and she’d bleed out from every orifice. She’d seen it happen once or twice, and it wasn’t anything pretty.

“You’re so damned stubborn,” the Cyclops muttered as he grasped her forearm in his big hands. “You should’ve told me about this in the car, but oh no, not Roxana. She has to be Ms. Bad-Ass.” Okay, he was justifiably pissed, but that was no reason for him to sink his teeth into her arm so hard. If she could’ve moved or made a sound, she would’ve screamed and tried to beat him off, but there was nothing she could do but sit in absolute agony. As Brice gnawed on her arm, she thought about the process involved in removing lamia poison. His teeth snapped through the skin with a pop. Sweat poured down her face. Lamia didn’t just inject venom; they left venom sacks beneath the skin with intelligent little enzymes that released venom in bursts. Her vocal chords vibrated with the need to release a scream she couldn’t utter in her frozen state. The sacks had to be removed, or the poison would continue to release until the blood flow stopped. Her breath whistled in her chest. Yeah, she should’ve asked for help before they left the site of the fight, but she hadn’t wanted Mason to see her vulnerable. Damn her pride. Her brain shut down as Brice’s teeth finally broke through the muscle of her arm, the pain shrieking through her with the force of a hurricane. Thank the gods for oblivion, was her last thought as she sank into blackness. **** Mason rushed back into the room to see the giant eating Roxana’s arm. “Holy shit!” He dropped the hot towels on the floor and pounced on Brice. It was like trying to break a pitbull away from a chew toy. The man refused to let go, though blood, thick and red, poured from Roxana’s arm to pool on the floor. The other giant entered the room just then, a shout of anger emerging from him that rattled the windows. Mason thought he was Akakios’s target, but was relieved to see the bigger man helping to remove Brice from Roxana’s arm. She was losing so much blood, and he worried the bastard had nicked a vein. The big man’s body was hunched over her arm, his jaws working as he chewed into her arm. Her eyes were closed, and her slack face had gone from pasty white to gray. Mason wouldn’t lose her like this. He and Aki worked in unison to remove Brice from Roxana. Mason didn’t want him to bite down harder, so instead of putting the bigger man in a chokehold, he placed his forearm against his forehead

to pull his head back. Aki’s hands went to either side of his mouth to pry it open. The bastard fought, sending elbows and fists into their bodies, but they were as resistant to being removed as he was. The three of them strained against each other until Mason heard something snap in Roxana’s arm and Brice flew back. They tumbled to the floor with her blood spraying all over the room. Mason scrambled back to his feet, his hand going straight to the big hole in her arm to put pressure on the wound. Brice spat out a piece of blackened sinew and retched. Mason glared at him then looked to the kid. “Get me something to wrap this in. We need to get her to a hospital.” To his surprise, the kid shook his head. “She’ll be fine. I didn’t want Brice to get overzealous and gnaw her whole arm off.” “What is wrong with you people?” Mason roared as another burst of warm blood pooled beneath his hand. “Dude, she’s coming around already. Calm down.” He saw red, and it wasn’t Roxana’s blood. When he got her patched up, he was going to wipe the floor with both of them. Several scenarios rolled through his mind, and every one of them involved lots of broken bones and spilled blood. Brice clutched his stomach and puked again. Aki looked disgusted. “Couldn’t you have asked for a bucket instead of your bag? Shit. You’re ruining the stain!” “Fuck off.” “Aren’t you the least bit worried your girlfriend is losing blood?” Mason demanded, interrupting their little bitch fest. The bastard didn’t deserve her. He showed more worry for his floors than he was for his woman. My woman, he amended. “My girlfriend?” Mason snarled. “Roxana!” He didn’t understand the smile that crossed the giant’s face, but he knew he didn’t appreciate the muffled laughter coming from Brice the Biter. “What’s so funny?” “She’s my sister, not my girlfriend.” Akakios shuddered, the look on his face both amused and horrified. “Gods, that’s just…wrong.” “Your sister?”

Mason looked at Roxana, whose color was slowly returning to normal, then back at Aki. They did look a little alike, but not enough that he would’ve pegged them as siblings. Relief swept through him followed, quickly by embarrassment as he listened to both men laugh. Yeah, he’d made a total ass of himself. Again. A soft moan dragged his attention back to Roxana, whose body seemed to fill with vitality as he watched. Her eyelashes fluttered before they lifted completely. Her pupils retracted in reaction to the light. She blinked. Mason’s breath whooshed from his lungs in a long sigh of relief. He raised one of his hands to her face to softly stroke her cheek. “Are you okay, baby?” He kept his voice down to avoid the two idiots behind him hearing, but she heard him fine, her eyes zeroing in on him. Relief, a brief flash of joy, then resentment passed through her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice nothing more than a croak. She twisted her head left and right, loud cracks sounding as she stretched her neck. “How long was I out?” “I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes.” “You can let go of my arm now.” Her voice was so cold and impersonal he acted without thought before remembering he’d been trying to stop the bleeding. He looked down and gaped. The wound wasn’t bleeding. As he watched, the muscle grew back, tissue filling in until her skin lapped back over the wound. She had a scar, but it was faded as though she’d had it for years instead of only seconds. Mason blinked, his synapses firing the details faster than he could understand them. He wasn’t sure what he felt as he looked down at the blood on the floor and back at the wound-that-wasn’t. Slowly though, things began to click, and his emotions finally came on board. He felt uncertainty, for sure, but anger, disbelief, and betrayal; yeah those ran a very close second. His eyes snapped up to hers as she moved as though to get up. Slamming his hands on the arms of her chair, he caged her in. He leaned forward until their noses touched. “I think it’s time you told me what the hell is going on.”

Chapter Seven Roxana’s breath caught in her chest. He was back. The Mason who’d screwed her senseless the night before loomed over her, his green eyes hard with determination. Her pussy flooded and clenched with want. She was a sick bitch. But she couldn’t let her attraction to him mislead her. He was playing games again. He had to be. No godling reached adulthood without having some idea they were special. They had superhuman strength and agility. They rarely got sick. Surely he realized he wasn’t some average Joe. If they didn’t notice it, their families generally did. Staring into his emerald eyes though, she had the uneasy feeling this particular godling hadn’t realized anything. Her stomach flopped. Shit. Of course! He’d been orphaned and shuffled through foster homes. No one had known him long enough to notice anything different about him. And if he was as clueless as he claimed to be, she’d seriously ruined her assignment. Her eyes searched his not-sohandsome-to-anyone-but-her face for some hint that he was playing with her. Her eyes closed. He was serious as a heart attack. Why did part of her feel a sense of relief? Because it meant last night hadn’t been his way of messing with her head. It meant sheer attraction had brought them together. He wasn’t as much of an asshole as the last godling she’d had sex with. She wasn’t sure that was such a good thing, though, since it left her feeling confused. “Roxy? Why don’t you go take a shower, and we’ll get this cleaned up so we can talk with Mason here.” Aki’s voice, so calm and reassuring washed through her. When she opened her eyes again, Mason still looked pissed, but somewhat appeased. He stood in one fluid movement that brought his crotch to eye level. She stared. She couldn’t help it. She knew exactly what he looked like behind the soft blue material. The bulge grew before her eyes, and she flicked a quick look up at him. His blazing eyes pierced hers, reminding her of exactly everything they’d done the night before. Her skin flushed with unbidden desire. She squeezed her thighs together. This godling had some serious mojo, and her body responded like Pavlov’s dog. Damn it!

Brice hacked, drawing her attention away from the lust brimming in Mason’s eyes. She peered around the impressive cock pressing against denim to her retriever. “You okay, Brice?” He wiped his mouth with his hand. “Yeah, must’ve been one of the older lamia that got you. That shit was strong.” He sat up, his face slightly pale. “I’ll be fine just as soon as I rinse out my mouth. You go shower. I’ll clean up my mess.” Roxana nodded, nibbling on her lip. “Sorry I didn’t tell you back at the—” “Yeah, I’ll bitch you out more later. Go clean up. You know I can’t stand the sight of blood.” His gruff words made her smile. He was one of the most deadly Retrievers in the company, but the minute you thanked him for anything, he became bashful. She stood and wobbled on her feet until Mason grabbed her arms to steady her. Her eyes shot to his face against her will. He looked pissed and worried. Why would he worry for her? They’d only had earth shattering orgasms together. Right? No emotional attachments, she reminded herself even as her heartbeat trebled. He released her when she moved, though his eyes never left her face. She broke contact by shaking her head. She was not going to let some godling mess with her mind, or her body, again. Why did she feel sad about that? Glancing at her brother, she saw he had a thoughtful look on his face as his gaze went from her to Mason. Gods, he was going to give her hell about this. She could read it in his eyes, in the way his body swelled with aggression. “I’ll be out in half an hour.” She staggered from the room. It was the venom messing with her system. Yeah, right, her body said. She was still reeling from the look on Mason’s face. Once inside her bathroom, she slammed and locked the door. The mirror showed that her beautiful robe was soaked in blood, and her eyes resembled burning coals in her face. Obviously this was a face any man would kill to look at. Snorting at herself, she dropped the robe and turned on the shower. She’d feel better after a good long pampering. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had a near death experience. She closed her eyes as the hot water cascaded over her head. If her life kept going in the direction it was, it wouldn’t be her last, but hopefully she’d keep a

visit with Charon, the ferryman of the River Styx, at bay a little longer. **** Mason stared after Roxana, his body thrumming with lust and anger. She kept dismissing him, and he didn’t like it one bit. She seemed to think he would let her walk all over him, and while he wasn’t opposed to being her sex toy, out of the bedroom, he’d be a full partner. He glared at the doorway she’d left through, ignoring Brice who used the towels he’d brought from the bathroom to clean up his mess. “Shit, I’ll have to find her special cleaners to get this up,” Brice said as he wiped a spot on the floor. Mason turned to see Aki open his mouth, but shut it when Brice glared at him. “And if you say ‘I told you so’, I’ll kick your little ass all over this house. I didn’t have time to grab a bucket. She needed the venom out immediately.” “So you don’t normally go around eating parts off people?” Mason asked as he leaned against a wall. Aki snorted, though his amusement faded as he glared at Mason. “What are you to my sister, godling?” “Now you’re gonna be protective?” Roxana’s brother flushed, and his hand fisted at his sides. “I’m her only family.” He shot a hard look at Brice when he snorted. “I take care of my sister. When she lets me.” Mason shrugged. He understood the kid’s concern about his sister, but he wasn’t going to let some snot-nosed brat give him the third degree either. “That’s between us.” If anything, the little bastard grew a few more inches, and his eyes blazed. Damn, were his eyes turning red? “You will not hurt my sister, godling. If you do, I’ll tear you limb from limb and feed your entrails to Geryon.” Mason studied his nails with practiced nonchalance. “I’d probably appreciate that threat a lot more if I knew what the hell a Geryon was.” He folded his arms. “So are those game systems for show, or do you actually know how to use them?” Brice looked from Aki to Mason and back again. He stood, his arms filled with towels. “I’ll, uh, go find that cleaning stuff Roxana likes.” He beat tracks out of the room as though his ass was on fire.

Mason barely glanced in the retreating giant’s direction. He needed to establish some kind of dominance over the kid while at the same time bond with him. If he was going to be in Roxana’s life, he needed to get along with her brother. If it took breaking out his rusty gaming skills, he’d do it. “You play?” Aki asked as he folded his arms over his chest, mimicking Mason’s pose. “I have.” “Live or computer simulated?” “Both.” He didn’t mention the LAN parties he’d attended when he was in the gang, or when he was bumming around the country. Some tournaments paid decent money, so he’d learned to play well. The kid’s eyes narrowed further. “You got a handle?” “GhostRaven.” Aki’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “You’re GhostRaven?” Mason fought a smile. He did have a reputation, or he used to have one. “Yeah.” Without further word, Aki walked over to the 360 console and logged on. “I have to tell my unit about this. I can’t friggin’ believe it. GhostRaven is dating my sister!” Mason shifted slightly. “Eh, well we’re not dating.” “Whatever.” He pulled on his headset and started jabbering to his “unit”. Aki turned his head. “You wanna play a round or two? Roxana takes forever in the shower.” Since this was exactly what he wanted, Mason nodded and strolled over. He was handed a controller and another headset that looked brand new. He studied it. “I got it hoping Roxana or Brice would want to play in their downtime, but the graphics make her sick, and Brice only likes roleplaying games,” Aki said without looking at him. There was a slight blush on the man’s cheeks as though he was embarrassed to have an unused headset. Mason shrugged and put the headset on, feeling a tingle of anticipation roll down his spine. It’d been a while since he’d played, and he kind of missed it. There was something about pitting his wits against other people in a contest that wasn’t to the real death he found relaxing.

As they waited for the next campaign to load, Mason marveled how something as simple as a video game could ease what would have been an extremely awkward situation with Roxana’s brother. He only hoped it would be just as easy to get on her good side. He shook his head and settled into the game. **** When Roxana finally left her room, nearly two hours had passed. She hadn’t meant to take so long, but the overwhelming need to don the armor of a stone-cold bitch had kept her primping in front of her mirror longer than she’d anticipated. She was dressed to kill, which had been her intention. No one was in the living room. She strolled to the kitchen where the scent of coffee and breakfast hovered in the air. There was a little food left over, so she made herself a plate and sat down to eat at the bar. It was still warm, so they couldn’t have been gone long. She applied herself to her meal, knowing her body needed the fuel. After twenty minutes passed and no one popped in the kitchen, she frowned. Where was everyone? She didn’t think Aki would go so far as to kill Mason and hide the body. Her brother wasn’t a killer. Yet. She sighed and pushed her eggs around her plate. If Aki’s expression had been any indication, he wasn’t the little boy she’d sheltered for so long. Soon he’d want to go off on his own, get a job, and do all the things she wasn’t ready to let him do. Yet. If ever. A burst of shouting from Aki’s den stopped her fork in midair. She couldn’t tell if the shouts were of anger, but it made her uneasy to imagine Mason fighting with her brother. She dropped the fork on her plate and dashed through the house. The sight that greeted her eyes made her want to slaughter every single one of the males clumped around the massive television Aki used to play his games. Studiously keeping her eyes averted from the screen – because the dizzying graphics made her want to hurl – she glared at the men. Mason sat between Aki and Brice, all three of them wearing headsets and holding game controllers in their hands. “Sniper on the roof!” Aki shouted, his fingers performing some intricate dance on the controller. “Got him. Go after the two little bastards who just circled around behind me.” Mason’s voice was calm, though his eyes gleamed with excitement.

Warmth blossomed in her stomach. She shook her head. She was not becoming aroused from watching him play video games. She was not! His fingers flew over the buttons of the controller, and her nipples tightened. Okay, she was becoming aroused. Dammit. It was because she could too easily remember what those fingers felt like on and in her. Yowsa. Aki shouted in triumph, jumping up from his chair. “We totally kicked their asses!” Mason’s body relaxed into his chair, a flush of exhilaration on his cheekbones. He smiled at her brother who was doing some version of a victory dance around their chairs. Gods, Mason was so hot. She almost melted into a puddle of goo. “Who were those guys?” Brice asked as he stretched. She didn’t even realize Brice played video games, yet he looked completely at ease with the controller in his hands. Her brother fell back in his chair with a happy sigh. “That was Poseidon’s gang. They’ve been dogging my unit for at least a year wanting a head-to-head, but my guys aren’t ready for that.” Brice froze mid-stretch. “Poseidon?” Aki snorted. “Yeah, like anyone else would use Carp Deity as a handle?” “Carp Deity?” Mason asked, his brow furrowed. Again, her brother snorted. “Yeah, you know, making fun of some person who thought Carpe Diem meant ‘fish god.’” The three men snickered. Roxana blinked at her brother. “How long have you been playing against the executives?” She wasn’t even sure she wanted him to answer. It might finish off what the lamia venom started. Three heads jerked around at the sound of her voice. Brice looked sheepish, Mason looked horny, and Aki blushed with guilt? “Uh, hm.” She narrowed her eyes on him. “About three years.” “Three years!” So she didn’t pay a lot of attention to Aki’s games. They were entertainment and his means of communicating with the world, but she would’ve never suspected the Olympus executives of playing as well. It was absurd. A sudden fear gripped her. “Did they approach you?” “Nah. It just happened. I was playing on-line one day, and some guy asked me if I wanted to go head-to-head. We did, and it

became a habit.” He looked so calm, so relaxed, she wanted to strangle him. “Who was it?” Please don’t let it be who she thought it was. “Talos. Man, he sucks, but…” Roxana nearly fainted. Instead, she summoned the anger she felt towards her parents and straightened her spine. “Has he contacted you outside of the game?” Aki shook his head, his eyes puzzled. “Why?” Brice looked uncomfortable and squirmed in his chair. She refused to look at Mason. She didn’t need to feel inadequate in front of him. She’d managed to evade answering Aki’s questions about their father, but to know that the two of them had been playing a video game together for a while... She wanted to vomit. “It doesn’t matter right now. I need to debrief Mason and finish this assignment.” She turned on her heel. “If you’ll join me in the living room?” She stalked out of Aki’s den, a nervous wreck trying to hold it together. Their father had contacted Aki! She seethed. Talos was a part of a past she wanted nothing to do with. That he was snooping after Aki after all these years could only mean trouble. She snorted and forced herself to think rationally, or at least attempt to. The bastard hadn’t been there when their loving mother had nearly killed them both, but he wanted to show up when Aki was fully grown? Her hands balled into fists. The arrogant bastard. “What the hell is going on, Roxana?” Mason asked from across the room, his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. Damn the man. She whirled around to confront him. “You really don’t know who or what you are, do you?” The confused suspicion on his face was enough of an answer for her. The Furies could’ve told her he had no clue, those heifers. Brice entered the room warily, Aki on his heels. “Everyone sit down. We don’t have a lot of time before I have to move Mason to one of the safe houses.” She ignored Aki’s disappointment and settled herself on one end of the sofa. Mason sat next to her in spite of the gimlet glare she sent him. Brice and Aki poured themselves onto the same sofa which creaked under their combined weight. “Everyone comfy? Good.” She paused.

How do you tell someone they’re the child of a mortal turned god and their grandfather, the king of gods, wanted him to join the company? Esh, maybe it was like pulling off a band-aid, better to do it fast. She looked at Mason. His eyes were on her legs tucked under her. She looked down. She was showing a lot of thigh, but nothing lust-worthy. She snapped her fingers at him. He shot her a smoldering look. Oh, boy. “Are you with us?” One corner of his mouth twitched, and was that sexy, or what? She cleared her throat. Down, girl! Tell the man he’s a godling and soon-to-be one of the executives of a company owned by Olympic gods who still liked to stick their noses in human lives. “Right.” She cleared her throat again. Was she coming down with something? Roxana frowned and pressed the tips of her fingers to the hollow of her throat. Strange. Mason shifted on the sofa, turning until he faced her. It was unnerving. “Um, okay, so your family sent me to find you.” She felt instant relief. She smiled. His eyes narrowed. “My family.” Roxana looked over at Aki and Brice, who both watched as though they attended a tennis match. “Yes, your family. Specifically, your grandfather.” “I see. Who is he?” “Uh.” She tried to stall, but it was as though the safety was off because Mason hit her with question after question in rapid fire bursts. “Why were those things at my apartment? Were they after me or you? What were they? How did you grow a foot in seconds? Where did your armor come from? Why did Brice eat part of your arm?” “I didn’t eat her damn arm!” Mason ignored Brice’s denial, and his eyes glittered. “Why didn’t you say anything about this last night?” “Last night?” This time, it was Aki who interrupted. “What the hell were you doing with my sister last night?” Again Mason ignored everyone except her. “I want answers, Roxana. What the hell is going on?” Embarrassment, anger, empathy, all warred for release. She jumped to her feet and paced around the room for several minutes. No

one interrupted her, which was a damn good thing because she would have snapped someone’s head off if they had. She needed to organize her thoughts. She was pissed Mason had mentioned their night together, especially in front of Aki. She swiveled around to look at Mason. “I was trying to be diplomatic.” Aki and Brice snorted loudly. She glared at them. “But apparently that won’t work with you.” She took a deep breath and slapped her hands against her thighs. “Fine. Your father is Heracles, also known as Hercules. At some point, he had sex with a human descendant of Paris of Troy. That means you’re the prime target of Hera, your grandfather’s wife.” Mason stared at her with no expression. This sucked. “Eons ago, Paris of Troy was asked to choose the most beautiful goddess at a party. Paris chose Aphrodite, which pissed Hera off. She tends to, um, hold a grudge.” Aki snickered. “She’s coming after you because you’re not only a relative of Paris, but because you’re Heracles’s son, and she still hasn’t forgiven Zeus for that infidelity. I was contracted last night to find Heracles’s son before Hera’s minions did and get him to Zeus’s temple before the full moon.” Her face heated up at the next admission. “I didn’t know until this morning you were Heracles’s son.” The room was silent for a long time. The ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner was the only sound as she and her relatives watched Mason. He didn’t move, though his gaze traveled over her body as though searching for a visual sign that she was telling the truth. An unfamiliar pressure on her hands made Roxana look down. This godling had her wringing her hands like some helpless female! Oh, it was enough to make a giantess vomit. He finally spoke, his eyes pinning her in place. “So what you’re telling me is that you didn’t sleep with me to get me to cooperate.”

Chapter Eight It took everything Mason had not to laugh at the look on Roxana’s face. She looked so incredulous and outraged he suspected if she were armed, she’d have killed him on the spot. But how else was he supposed to react? It was a load of shit, all of it. He was furious she would come up with such an outrageous story, dragging his orphaned background into it, and he couldn’t imagine what purpose she thought it served. Was she so eager to get away from him she’d lie to escape? No, wait, she’d said she was supposed to take him to his grandfather. Zeus. He snorted. Right. He looked over at Brice and Aki. “You two are in on this, too, huh?” Brice shook his head sorrowfully, while Aki looked confused. Poor kid probably had no idea his sister was off her rocker. Mason sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He’d thought he could put up with a lot to keep Roxana close, but this was too much. As gorgeous as she was, as much as he enjoyed sex with her and as much as he adored her crazy attitude, there was a big difference between crazy and certifiable. He’d learned that lesson the hard way and wasn’t about to repeat it. He stood. “It’s been a lot of fun, but I don’t need this shit.” He nodded at the two men. “Nice meeting y’all. Aki, maybe we’ll hook up on the server sometime. Brice, thanks for the breakfast.” He turned to Roxana. Her brow scrunched up in a frown as she stared at him. It was a damn shame, he thought. She was something else in the bedroom. He would’ve liked getting to know her better, but he wasn’t going to jail for another woman ever again. Looking at her now, his body twitched with need. He shook his head. “Roxana, I wish things could’ve been different.” He started towards the front door, his spirits low. Well hell, he finally met a woman who could go toe-to-toe with him in the bedroom, and she was nuts. He should’ve known something was wrong when she came onto him at the bar. Should’ve realized she wasn’t as perfect as she’d seemed. It didn’t explain the shriveling women, Roxana’s growth spurt, or the rapidly healing wound, but he wasn’t going to think about it right now. He needed to get away from

her before he did something dumber, like overlook her chemical imbalances. His hand was on the doorknob when something struck him in the middle of the back before falling to the floor with a clatter. He sighed. He’d hoped to avoid an ugly scene. Turning back, he saw Roxana posed with her other heel in hand ready to pitch it at him. She looked hot all pissed off and insulted. His cock throbbed, but Mason forced his mind to other avenues. She wasn’t well. With that thought in mind, he spread his hands out in a quelling motion. “Roxana, just calm down and think about what you’re saying.” The beautiful bronze eyes he’d stared into as he entered her body blazed at him. Like with Aki, Mason could’ve sworn there was a tinge of red in the daggered gaze glaring at him. Of course, that was bullshit. He was seeing things. She was just another pissed off woman who’d been caught in her lies and self-delusions. “You.” Her chest heaved, and he had to admit, it was an impressive sight. She had the breasts most women paid a fortune for, and they were all natural. “I nearly got myself killed protecting your thankless ass! And you think this is some…some game? That I’m crazy?” Mason watched, bemused and awed, as her body seemed to grow taller until she was nearly his own height. Her hands were tight fists at her sides, and yup, it sure as hell looked like her eyes were red now. Just red, no bronze. He rubbed the back of his head. She must’ve hit him in the head with her shoe instead of his back. “Roxy, calm down.” Aki came up to his sister. He shot Mason a look just as filled with anger as Roxana’s, but his eyes were normal. “He doesn’t understand. There’s no reason to get so worked up. If he doesn’t want your help, we’ll send him on his way, and he can die by Hera’s hand.” Mason was insulted, yet wary. He took a mental evaluation of his body. He didn’t feel concussed. He felt surprisingly normal except for the strong sense of disbelief coursing through him. He pinched his thigh through his jeans. It hurt. A lot. Okay, so he wasn’t dreaming. There was no denying something was happening to Roxana’s body. Her slacks, which hugged every delicious curve of her body, were several inches shorter than they had been before. Her blouse threatened to burst a few buttons. He was on board for that, though

not with Brice or her brother in the room. Those things should have been evidence enough, but her eyes sealed the deal for him. They blazed ruby red at him, and her fury spat at him with every breath she took. “Get out of my—” Her words were cut off by a loud boom from the back of the house. Mason fought to keep his balance, his eyes shooting past Roxana to the big plantation doors on the other side of the room. He shook his head. He was imagining things. Again. He had to be because there was no way in Hell horsewomen had landed on the patio. He blinked his eyes. No, they were still there. They weren’t horsewomen as in women riding horses. No, these were women who were horses. Or horses who were women. He couldn’t decide which. There were four of them, each well over seven feet tall. Their lower bodies were those of a horse with black, velvety coats and long white tails. Their upper human bodies had midnight black skin, generous bare breasts, and hair to match their tails. They were gorgeous. “Sonofabitch!” Brice swore as he jumped to his feet and moved closer to the others in the room. “She sent out the Mares of Diomedes? Is she out of her mind?” “That seems to be going ‘round.” Mason’s drawl made Aki shoot him a dark look, but he couldn’t stop staring at the women. Horses. Whatever. “This isn’t funny, you ass.” Aki fought to keep Roxana in place. “Those mares are man-eaters, and who wants to bet your dumb ass is on the menu?” Before Mason could reply, Roxana broke free from Aki. Her body was enveloped in a soft, golden glow. When the light faded, her clothing was gone, replaced by the same armor she’d worn earlier in the day. This time though, instead of a staff or knife, she hefted a longsword and shield. “How do you do that?” Mason asked as he looked for the smoke and mirrors. She ignored Mason completely, her eyes on the window. “Brice, get Aki out of here.” She swung the sword wide, her legs braced apart as the mares smiled at her through the window. Aki stepped forward. “No, let me help you.” He shook off Brice’s restraining hand and conjured his own suit of armor and weapon. “They’ll kill you, Roxy.”

Roxana looked over her shoulder, fear replacing the rage in her eyes as she stared at her brother. “No. Go, Aki. Just get out of here.” He didn’t move. Glass shattered as the mares charged the room. “Brice, now!” There was no mistaking the absolute terror in her eyes as she looked between her brother and the mares. The spot Mason had pinched on his leg throbbed. This wasn’t fake. This was all amazingly real. Mason, forgotten for the moment, watched as Roxana prepared to battle against four man-eating horses as her brother looked on in horror. The threat was real. He charged forward ripping the sword from Aki’s hand. He gave the younger man a push towards Brice. “Get him out of here.” He glanced at Aki. “She’ll only worry if you’re here, kid. She needs you safe to think straight. Go. I’ll protect her.” When it looked like Aki would protest more, Brice grabbed him and took off. Mason had no idea how they were planning to get out of the house, but he had more important things to worry about, like the hooved bitches headed his way. He gave the sword a test swing. It had great balance. He just prayed he didn’t kill himself or Roxana because this was a lot different from the video games he used to play for money. **** It was good to feed the rage instead of keeping it contained. Roxana let it grow, expand until she wiped out all concern for her safety, or even the safety of the asshole who’d had the nerve to call her a liar. Her, a liar! Oh, and crazy, she couldn’t forget that part. Another log fell on the fire of her fury, and she smiled at the Mares. Movement out the corner of her eye caused her to back up slightly in order to keep the new threat in her line of sight. It was Mason wearing jeans and a T-shirt wielding Aki’s longsword. She blinked at him, her rage abating slightly as surprise took its place. He looked hot, of course. She’d always been a sucker for swordsmen, although he didn’t look much like a swordsman at the moment. He swung the sword as though he were swinging a bat, the muscles in his arms flexing with the movement. The Mares paused as well, their eerie purple eyes lighting on him with appreciation. They were horses, yeah, but they did like to look at men. Of course, then they ate them, but they had a good eye.

Roxana shook her head. They were here to kill Mason. They’d come to her house, broken through her beautiful glass doors, where her brother lived. The flames of her anger flared again, burning hotter than ever. She shrieked out her war cry and charged. Alala, the eldest Mare smiled with delight as she trotted forward to meet Roxana’s attack. Neither of them expected Mason to be on her heels. Alala reared, kicking out with her forelegs as she stabbed at them with her spear. Roxana took her left flank, dodging the lethal hooves aimed at her head. Mason hacked away at the body in front of him, his big body weaving away from the strikes. Roxana thrust her sword straight at Alala’s ribcage. The only hope they had of stopping their attack was to injure the heart. The bitches were truly immortal, so they wouldn’t die, but they’d be sent right back to the River Phlegethon until they were summoned once more. “Go for the heart!” The other three Mares, Bia, Kakia, and Lyssa, charged at her words. Damn. Roxana used her shield to protect her head as she ran to meet their attack. Mason grunted behind her. “Don’t get killed by my imaginary friends.” Roxana stabbed Kakia through the heart. She was the youngest of the Mares. Yay, me, one down three to go. “Are we going to…” He grunted. She heard him stumble back. “Are we really going to argue about this now?” Bia stabbed down with her spear, nearly impaling Roxana who leapt out of the way. She kicked out and snapped the spear in half. Ha! “Take that, heifer!” A hoof slammed into her head. “We’re not heifers; we’re horses, dumbass.” Lyssa had no sense of humor. “And I can tell that by the size of your very large hips, my dear.” “Why are you talking? Shouldn’t you be fighting?” Mason shouted. Roxana risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Alala had pinned him in the corner of the room. He’d ripped a cabinet off of her beautiful hutch and was using it as a shield to deflect the mare’s hooves and spear.

She turned back to her own fight in time to avoid another hoof to the head. “Mind your own battle!” “He looks tasty, Roxana.” Bia thrust her broken spear straight at Roxana’s head. “Is he?” Lyssa fluttered her eyelashes in Mason’s direction. “Mm, I bet he’s quite the randy lad as well, being one of Heracles’s sons.” Her mistake. Roxana bellowed as she dove under Bia’s next lunge and pierced Lyssa’s chest cavity with the tip of her sword. Pushing hard, she stabbed the mare through the heart. The move cost Roxana, though, as one of Bia’s big-ass hooves clocked her on the back of the head. Roxana hit the ground like a felled tree. Lyssa’s body thudded shortly after, but it was enough to remind Roxana that the battle was far from over. She rolled away from Bia’s next attack. Sure enough, the mare’s hooves came down hard in the spot where she’d lain. Heart pounding from the near miss, Roxana scrambled to her feet. Her damned sword was beneath Lyssa’s body where it didn’t do her a bit of good. “Dammit.” Mason let out a shout of pain. Roxana looked to see Alala had managed to shove her spear through his shoulder. Blood gushed, running down his chest as the bitch twisted the spearhead into his body. Bia chose that moment to charge. Roxana ducked and rolled across the room until she came up against Lyssa’s body. She wouldn’t be able to get her sword out in time. She grabbed the mare’s spear and chucked it straight at Bia’s torso. The mare tried to stop her body’s forward momentum, but her big ass was too heavy to turn on a dime. The spear went straight through her heart. Roxana didn’t stop to watch her fall. She jerked her sword from Lyssa’s body and ran to help Mason. Alala’s full attention was on the male in front of her instead of her sisters’ battle. Taking full advantage of the mare’s distraction, Roxana vaulted onto her back and shoved the sword between her shoulder blades. Alala’s head went back as she screamed, her hind legs buckling as the strength left her body. Roxana rolled off the mare’s back, springing to her feet as soon as she hit the ground. Panting, she looked around at the massive horse bodies littering her living room. “This is so not going to look good for the

Perfect Olympian Homes spread next week,” she muttered as she stepped over Alala’s body to get to Mason. The damn mare had managed to shove the spear through his body straight into the wall behind him. He was pinned like an insect. Sweat covered his face as his blood soaked his clothes. Roxana had thought she was too angry to care if he got hurt, but seeing him like that tore her heart apart. “You were supposed to duck,” she muttered as she stepped closer to inspect the wound. She winced. Alala had made sure her tip was nice and rough which meant not only did Mason have a huge spear in his shoulder, he also had splinters the size of bowie knives. He grimaced as she touched the wood pinning him to the wall. “I totally had her. She was tiring out.” Roxana chuckled even as she studied the spear. “Sorry to spoil your fun.” “’sokay, I’m sure that won’t be the last, huh?” She frowned. “No, more will come. Maybe not more Mares, but others.” She had to get the spear out of him, or get him off the spear. Which should it be? He was bleeding heavily. No time to be fancy. “This is gonna hurt.” Without pause, she grasped the spear right above his shoulder in both hands. Holding it firm in her left hand, she snapped the wood as close to the wound as she could. He grunted, but didn’t move. She patted him on the head. “Good job. Now I’m going to pull you off the spear. Ready?” He ground his teeth together, agony plain on his face. “Could you count to three?” “Sure can.” She yanked his body away from the wall, the spear sliding through his tissue with a horrific sucking sound. He collapsed against her, his weight causing her to teeter as she fought to keep her balance. “Steady on.” “You.” He panted, his face in the crook of her neck. “You were supposed to count to three!” Roxana bit her lip to keep from smiling. “You asked me if I could count to three, not if I would.” “I hate you.” Abruptly, her amusement faded as she wryly decided that, yes, he probably did hate her. Since he’d met her, he’d discovered he

wasn’t who he thought he was and had been in two battles in less than six hours. Gee, Roxana, what else can we do to alienate the poor bastard? She shook her head. “I’ll get you somewhere to get that cleaned up.” “I’m bleeding to death.” Grasping his shoulders in her hands, she pushed him back to study the wound. “No you’re not. You’ve got at least two more pints of blood to go.” She joked in spite of her concern. He wasn’t immortal, and he could take a lot of punishment; but blood loss would kill him as surely as it would a normal mortal. He chuckled hoarsely and allowed her to drape the arm of his uninjured shoulder over her shoulders. With her left arm wrapped snugly around his waist, she led him through the house to the garage. The Charger was gone which meant Brice had listened to her. For once. Hopefully they were headed to another one of her safe houses. She prayed Aki didn’t try anything stupid. Her Range Rover sat in its customary spot. She rarely drove it since she much preferred making other people drive her around, but kept it for emergencies. Casting a wry look at Mason’s pale face, she supposed this constituted as an emergency. Half-dragging him to the passenger side, she helped him into the car, lifting his legs for him when he couldn’t. She briefly mourned the leather seats but gave a mental shrug. If the stain wouldn’t come out, she’d buy a new car. The company paid her enough to keep her happy with any number of toys she deemed necessary for survival. Once she got Mason settled in the passenger seat, she closed the door and strode to the cabinets on the far wall. The bag of clothes she kept just in case she needed to make a quick getaway sat on the top shelf. She could continue to pull from her pool of clothing, but non-stop magic usage tired her easily, and she’d need all the power she had to keep Mason safe. She strode back to the Rover and tossed the bag in the backseat. When she flipped down the visor, the keys fell into her hand. Naturally, the Rover started with a throaty purr, sending thrills of happiness down her spine. No longer pissed off, or at least as pissed off, she could enjoy life’s little pleasures again.

“Ready?” she asked her passenger as she opened the garage doors. He rolled his head towards her, his face ashen. His lips lifted in a brief, pained smile. “Once around the block, James.” Gods, he was too adorable. She tore out of the garage with a squeal of tires. Roxana let out a little sigh as she looked at her house. She would miss her place, but with the wards broken and the house contaminated beyond her abilities to live there, she’d have to find new digs. Get Mason to the healer, kick his ass for accusing her of lying, get him to his grandfather, find a new house, and go shopping. Yup, that would work. Plan firmly in place, she switched on the radio and sang along with ABBA as she roared down the street. “You’re joking, right?” His pained groan interrupted her singing, and she looked over to see his face tightened into a grimace. “What?” “ABBA? You just fought four man-eating horse women, and you’re listening to ABBA? Shouldn’t you be listening to, I don’t know, Rob Zombie or something?” “Everyone’s a fucking critic,” she grumbled half-heartedly. He was being a good sport, unlike most men who would’ve been moaning and groaning as though they were dying. She dialed up her kick-ass play list on her iPod, and the music faded from ABBA to House of Pain. “Is that better?” When she looked over, he had relaxed into his seat. His skin had a gray cast to it, but his breathing was easy; and he hadn’t passed out. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to say the same if she didn’t get him to a healer as soon as possible. She gripped the wheel with both hands and floored it.

Chapter Nine Roxana couldn’t drive worth a shit. He grunted as she took another hard turn. She wasn’t in a hurry and taking risks to get him to a healer. No, she’d informed him between songs he wouldn’t die from his wounds anytime soon. He suspected she drove like a maniac because she liked it since she chortled every time she cut someone off. The other drivers on the road didn’t appreciate her mad driving skills though, if the honks and flipping fingers were any indication. He closed his eyes out of sheer self-preservation. If he didn’t die from blood loss, which she assured him he wouldn’t, then he’d die from a heart attack, or go deaf from her off-key singing. “You’re in a good mood,” he mumbled between songs. He sensed her looking in his direction, but when he opened his eyes, she was glaring at the road. Okay, so she wasn’t in a good mood. “I’m trying not to think about how pissed off I am ‘cause if I do, I’ll wreck my pretty car. And I really hate it when I break my things.” Her knuckles were white from her tight grip on the steering wheel. Mason rolled his head to the side to see her better. It galled him to be so weak, and it really pissed him off that she’d saved his ass. Twice. A weaker man could get a complex that way. “What are you?” he asked because he was almost certain she and her brother weren’t what they kept calling “godlings” with nothing but contempt in their voices. Her disgusted snort was answer enough. He looked her over, trying to see beyond the body he wanted to have at his mercy forever, to the woman she was. She was a skilled fighter, and she wore her armor with ease born of frequent use. She could conjure clothing and weapons as she needed. She was built like a brick shit house, but then her brother and Brice were huge as well. Were all whatever they called themselves so big? “Okay, you’re not a godling. Are you an Amazon?” Cause that would make sense and be so hot. She rolled her eyes. “Amazons are a true myth.” She laughed. “Amazons.” “Are you one of the gods’ children then?”

Roxana stiffened all over, and the sound of her teeth grinding together was evident over the radio. “Hell. No.” Okay, sensitive subject. “Then what are you?” She was silent for so long, he didn’t think she would answer him. “How well do you know your Greek mythology?” “Ah, it’s been a while.” Like he’d ever paid attention to that shit anyway. He frowned. Maybe he should look into picking up a book on it or something if his father was who she said he was. Her laugh was genuine that time and warmed his chest. “Okay, so a quick rundown. There are gods. Zeus, Hera, Eros, Aphrodite, Apollo, Artemis, the whole gang, right?” She paused, and he nodded. “They’re the CEOs of Olympus, Inc. Each of them heads a different division depending on what their area of expertise is. The heroes turned immortal, like your father, are next in the food chain. Then the mortals turned immortal, like you’ll become. Heracles is a regional manager for Zeus, and when you join them, you’ll be placed in some spot in the company as well.” She stared at the road, a myriad of expressions that Mason wasn’t able to interpret crossing her face. He wanted to ask her questions, but had the feeling she’d clam up if he interrupted her now. “After the godlings, or mortals raised to immortal status, come the rest of us. My, ah, father is a giant. Talos, to be exact. He’s a bronze giant.” She shrugged and flicked him a quick look. “My mother is a maenad, a follower of Dionysus.” “So you’re a giant?” It made sense. She was a big woman, and when she went into a full rage, she became even bigger. “I thought you were like the Incredible Hulk or something,” he said only halfjoking. She barked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Yeah, that’s me.” One of her hands left the steering wheel to swipe at her eyes. “You’re talking about the rage. That’s a gift from my mother. Maenads are female followers of Dionysus. They tend to go into frenzies at his urging. You know, god of wine, ritual madness, and ecstasy, and all that shit. They kind of lose it, do things they normally wouldn’t.” Sounded like drunken college students, so he didn’t see the problem. “Things like what?” he asked because there wasn’t much he hadn’t heard or seen as a bar owner.

Her face paled, but she kept her eyes on the road. He saw the pulse in the hollow of her neck flutter and wondered if maybe it was better he didn’t know. If it had this effect on her, it couldn’t be good. But he needed to know all about her. The only way he’d find out was to ask. Megadeth’s “Trust” came on, and Roxana’s gaze flicked to the radio. She chuckled, the sound hard and cold. “Oh, you know, screw a giant they can’t stand then try to kill their kids, that kind of thing.” His body ran cold then hot then cold again as his brain processed her words. He looked at her, fighting to keep his emotions under tight wraps. She wouldn’t appreciate his pity. In fact, she’d probably carve his heart out. But God, her mother had tried to kill her and her brother? That was messed up. It would also explain the scars on her and her brother’s otherwise perfect bodies. He stared out the window. He’d thought he was bad off as an orphan. No, he’d had it very good. At least he’d had the law and social services to protect him, even if he hadn’t appreciated it at the time. Roxana and Aki had had no one but each other. “Your father…” “Got what he wanted and left.” Damn. “How old—” He heard her teeth grinding together. At this rate, she’d be toothless by the time they got to their destination. “I was almost thirteen. Aki was about five or six.” Sonofabitch. “I’ve taken care of him ever since. That’s why I can’t…get him involved in all of this bullshit. The minute the company sinks its claws in you, there’s no way out.” She sounded so bitter he wanted to apologize for people he’d never met before, gods who were family. “Not that they’d have anything to do with him anyway,” she muttered bitterly. “What do you do for them?” “Whatever they want.” His lungs squeezed. He hoped that didn’t mean anything sexual. He didn’t want to have to hurt people. Or gods, whatever. “Like?” She let out an impatient sigh as she took a sharp turn off the interstate. Mason looked around. They were north of Broussard and heading west to one of the smaller communities. He hadn’t bothered

asking where they were going. She seemed to have a destination in mind, and their conversation was a lot more interesting. “I do a little of everything. Guard duty during board meetings, chauffer duty when the brats, or godlings, want to go somewhere, babysitter when the executives and administration descend from on high, clean-up crew when they party too hard, and protector when they need. It pays well.” Mason wondered where he fit in that list of duties. She hadn’t said anything about sex, so perhaps she didn’t mess with any of the “executives”. A sense of profound relief filled him. He wouldn’t have to hurt someone after all. “Then again, I hate dealing with the smug bastards. I’m a mutt, so they like to mess with me, or try to screw me.” She shrugged as she slowed down at the entrance to a long, narrow road and turned on the dirt road. “Damocles is notorious for trying to get in the pants of anything that moves. Bastard.” The ring of bitterness in her voice this time was personal, the way a spurned ex would talk about the man who hurt her. What lovely red trees. No, the trees weren’t red. He was seeing red. He recognized the name Damocles. He supposed the mortal turned immortal looked like some Greek god, all buff and golden. His lip curled in a silent snarl. He’d pound the bastard. Sharp pain in his shoulder reminded him he wasn’t going to be pounding on anything until he was fixed up. He checked the wound, glad to see it wasn’t bleeding as heavily, then looked around to see where they were. Thick trees arched over the road, giving it the appearance of a natural tunnel. In spite of the bright, sunny day, the woods were dark as night, forcing Roxana to turn on the headlights. The bumpy path jarred his shoulder with every bounce of the vehicle, in spite of its excellent suspension. Mason clenched his teeth together to hold back a moan of pain. There was no way he would wuss out again in front of this woman. “Where exactly are you taking me?” “I know a healer.” “They...uh, know about…?” She sniffed. “Of course. Do you really think I’d risk taking you to some human doctor? They’d want to keep you overnight or some bullshit. We don’t have time for that.”

“I’m so glad my health is your number one concern.” She snickered evilly, but didn’t slow down. Soon the road became nothing more than ruts and potholes the size of the Grand Canyon – or so it seemed to his shoulder – so he gave up all attempts at conversation. He closed his eyes as nausea churned his stomach. He wouldn’t puke. He wouldn’t puke. The Ranger slammed to a stop. “We’re here.” Mason would have welcomed those words if she hadn’t said them as though she were saying, “We’re about to have our eyeballs plucked out by a horde of rabid bunnies.” The driver’s side door opened and closed. Her footsteps crunched on the ground as she walked around the front of the vehicle. His door opened. “Let’s go.” “I can get out on my own,” he said even as he fumbled with the seatbelt. “I see that.” She didn’t need to sound so amused. He dragged his eyes open as he felt her hands on his crotch. Apparently, he wasn’t going to die of blood loss because his cock stirred with interest. Either that, or what little blood he had left was all in his groin. As his head spun with pleasure, he suspected the latter. “Why are you playing with my cock when I’m bleeding to death?” Her hands stopped moving, and he looked up straight into her surprised, bronze eyes. “I’m not playing with your cock, you pervy bastard. I’m undoing your seatbelt!” Her eyebrows met over her nose as she looked down, though he could’ve sworn her cheeks were rosier than normal. “Oh.” “Not going to call me a liar again?” There was a snarl in her voice that made his lips twitch. “Are we back to that again? Has anyone ever told you holding a grudge is bad for your health?” “Whatever.” Mason felt the seatbelt fall away from his hips and bit back a sigh of disappointment. Her hands had completely distracted him from the pain. “C’mon, godling. Let’s get you fixed up.”

She was strong. He’d known that, had even felt how strong she was during their night together and again when she helped him into the car, but she nearly lifted him out of the Rover. He swayed when his feet hit the ground. He hoped his initiation into the company meant he wouldn’t be so damn weak. Her shoulder came up under his arm, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. It was like a hug, so he relaxed a bit and leaned into her. Damn, had her hair smelled this good last night? He couldn’t remember, but he was enjoying it now. She smelled like vanilla and sugar. He buried his nose in the hair behind her ear. “You want to stop sniffing me?” Her voice held a trace of amusement as she led him away from the vehicle. “No.” But he did open his eyes. They were in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t see a house, a tent, nothing to indicate civilization. The only hint people had been here at some point was the perfect circle created by trees that had been cleared away. Dead leaves crunched under their feet as they shuffled awkwardly to the center of the clearing. “I thought you were taking me to a healer?” Maybe she was really pissed at him and planned to him here for the wolves or whatever other weird-ass creatures they had in Greekland. “I am.” “Is this more of that…magic stuff?” He didn’t mean to sound so distrusting, but he wanted “normal” again. He was almost positive he hadn’t asked for adventure or immortals when he made his last wish. No, he was pretty sure he’d wished Roxana would suck harder. She sighed. “Yes, it’s more of ‘that magic stuff’, but it’ll help you get better, okay? So shut the fuck up, and let me call the healer.” **** When she was sure he wasn’t going to interrupt again, Roxana settled Mason’s weight more comfortably against her. He was heavy, and normally it wouldn’t bother her, but she had fought in two skirmishes that day. She was tired. She also dreaded contacting this particular healer. If she thought she could’ve gotten away with bringing him to a different temple portal, she would have, but in spite of her blasé replies to him earlier, he had lost a lot of blood. She wasn’t sure he could go any farther than Holling Woods. His complexion was pasty white, and dark circles ringed his eyes.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. You can do this, Roxy, old girl. It’s just a simple transaction, nothing to be worried about. With a snap of her fingers, she conjured her staff and rapped it against the ground three times and paused. She rapped it another five times and stopped again. Lifting the staff, she banged it on the forest floor one last time. A gold rectangle appeared in the air before them. Her heart thundered as she waited for the doorway to manifest. She tried not to think about what she was about to do and any ramifications it might have. She wasn’t doing this for herself. She’d brought Mason because he needed help. He was the son of Heracles, the grandson of Zeus; no one would be stupid enough to refuse him help. Well, except for Hera and her gang, but they were the only ones. The door solidified. Solid gold with an intricate ivory inlay, it looked like a portal to the human Heavens, but Roxana knew better. The diamond crusted handle beckoned, except she couldn’t reach out and push it open. She bit her lip. “What are we waiting for?” Mason whispered against the side of her head. His hot breath washed through her hair and sent shivers down her spine. Roxana cleared her throat and eyed the pattern on the door surface warily. To those who understood the language of the Thiasus, the warning was clear: Enter with false cheer and forfeit your life. She shivered, this time from dread. She’d only passed through this door once before and nearly hadn’t come out. Not because she was filled with false cheer, but because the one on the other side of the doorway was a real asshole. Mason’s knees buckled. She didn’t have time for doubts. Sucking in a deep breath, she reached out and knocked on the door. She wasn’t sure how long it was before she heard footsteps on the other side, but her heart felt as though it were about to explode from the wait. The handle rattled. She watched with bated breath as it was depressed on the other side of the door. The panel swung open, spilling bright light across the clearing. She squinted against the glare, making out the figure of a short woman in long, flowing robes. “Abomination.” The voice was low, melodious and sent a wave of crushing terror through Roxana.

Mason’s body tensed against hers at the greeting, but he said nothing. She was glad. He’d only make things worse. Gently lifting his arm over her head as she supported him with her other arm, Roxana took a step forward, but didn’t dare cross the threshold. “Healer, I’ve brought you a patient.” “Zeus’s grandson is welcome. You are not.” A petite hand reached out of the light and grabbed Mason’s wrist. “Wait,” was the last thing Mason said before he disappeared through the doorway. The door slammed behind him and disappeared with a sonic boom, knocking Roxana off her feet. She lay on the forest floor as the darkness descended on her. She stared blankly at the tree branches overhead. Sitting up, she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She stared at the spot where Mason had disappeared. “I guess Mom’s still pissed off,” she finally said as she settled in to wait for Mason’s return.

Chapter Ten Soothing harps played against the backdrop of a waterfall as Mason floated through the light. The seemingly endless expanse of white made his heart pound with fear and awe. He looked around for Roxana, but she was nowhere to be found. Panic and fury pounded through his body. The woman leading him across the vast room patted his hand. “There’s nothing to fear, godling.” “Who are you?” Eh. Bad manners, much? “I am called Galene, and yes, you have atrocious manners. My daughter must like that,” the musical voice said with no hint of emotion. Mason groaned. Just great, Roxana had handed him over to an attempted child-killer. He’d have to kick her ass for hurting his woman. He couldn’t help the streak of chivalry that made him want to protect her. She wouldn’t appreciate him embroiling himself in her affairs, but her mother needed to be taught a lesson. “You’re so quick to judge.” Even her voice was cold. And where the hell was she bringing him? “Did she tell you I tried to kill her and Akakios?” The woman didn’t wait for him to respond. “Silly girl. I was only going to kill Akakios, but she got in the way. You never get in the way of a maenad and her chosen prey.” Mason’s brain froze with horror. “You’re a monster.” She sighed, the sound soothing his rattled nerves. “The boy is ill. I knew better than to let Talos impregnate me again, but I lost my sense in the frenzy.” She led him further into the light, the waterfall growing louder. “Roxana has doted on Akakios since his birth, much to my disappointment. She’ll suffer for that when his illness runs its course. He’s the Harbinger of Death, and he’ll drag her with him into the pit of evil his life will become. I was trying to correct my mistake, and she interfered. She will pay for that, but it is her choice.” She spoke as though her children were of no consequence, and he supposed they weren’t. She obviously hadn’t wanted them. Galene stopped, pushing him onto a platform. It was hard and cold against his back, but even as he lay there, it conformed to his body. She leaned over him, her eyes on her task as she shredded his

shirt. She was a smaller, daintier version of Roxana. Her thick scarlet hair was swept up in a style he’d seen on Grecian urns the one time the orphanage had taken them to the museum. Her alabaster skin glowed with health. The only difference between her and her daughter, other than her size, was her eyes. Instead of the beautiful bronze he adored on Roxana, this woman’s eyes were solid black. It was freaky. She removed the scraps of his shirt to study the wound. Her upper lip pulled back in a snarl that looked exactly like Roxana’s. “Mares,” she said in disgust. With a snap of her fingers, a tray with small bowls filled with fresh herbs appeared. A bowl of water and cloths appeared next. “You are Heracles’s son.” Her tone was matter-of-fact as she cleaned the blood from his wound. “I suppose.” Mason didn’t want to talk to her. She creeped him out worse than the lamias had. Something that might have been amusement gleamed in her black eyes. “You’re very loyal to a woman who wants to do violence to you.” “Roxana?” She nodded. Mason couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth. “She doesn’t want to hurt me. She only thinks she does.” Galene made a little noise of disagreement as she prodded at his wound. “I know my daughter regardless of what she thinks. You make her very angry.” “Passion.” “She wants to … how does she say it?” She paused, one finger tapping her chin. “Oh yes, she wants to ‘beat the ever-lovin’ shit out’ out of you.” “Foreplay.” “You know she does not like godlings.” She reached down and probed the wound. White hot pain lanced through Mason’s body as Galene began removing the splinters from the massive hole in his shoulder. Sweat gathered on his forehead, and he clenched his teeth before he spoke again. “Yeah, but she liked me before she knew I was a godling.”

Galene laughed like a tinkling of wind chimes. “You’re very determined.” She sprinkled some herbs on the wound and placed a fresh cloth on it. “Turn over.” As soon as he did, she worked on the exit wound. “You’ll need that determination with Roxana. She hates me and her father for how we treated Akakios.” “Do you blame her?” “Yes, I do believe so. She holds grudges.” Yeah, he knew that. “How long ago did this, um, happen?” She was silent for a while, and Mason figured she wasn’t going to answer him. “Three thousand, three hundred, and twelve years ago.” Mason was sure he’d heard wrong. He let out a pained laugh as her little, demonic fingers searched for more splinters. “You’re staying Roxana’s three thousand years old.” “She’s three thousand, three hundred twenty-four years old, to be exact. But her birthday is coming up, so she will be three thousand, three hundred and twenty-five.” He stared straight ahead. “You’re kidding, right?” “Of course not. You think the pantheon and its peoples are of the modern age?” She patted his shoulder. “It is okay. Roxana is a woman who bends with the times.” “What about her father? Does she see him?” Although now he recalled the tense look on her face when she learned Aki was contacted by someone named Talos. “Talos is a giant. Very handsome, but his rages and my frenzies … made dangerous children. This is why Akakios should have died as an infant.” She placed a bandage on the back of his shoulder and wrapped it. “Roxana has more control.” She patted his shoulder again. “Usually.” So Roxana didn’t even have her father to lean on. Pity threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it back. It wouldn’t do Roxana any good, and it would only cause her to skin him alive if he even hinted he felt sorry for her. Galene moved away, and the trays disappeared. Mason sat up and looked around. “Where are we?” “This is one of Dionysus’s temples. I heal when we are not holding celebrations.” A loud chime resounded somewhere in the distance, and a look of feral excitement crossed her face. She snapped her fingers, and a goblet appeared in her hands. “Drink this, and then

you will go.” She stood and pointed in the direction for him to take. “I will tell you, Mason, son of Heracles, do not mention this conversation to Roxana. She hates like no other. If you are not careful, she will turn that poison on you, and you will wish you never met her.” Galene skipped away, leaving Mason with a hanging jaw. He’d fallen into some alternate universe where mothers waved off attempted murder as an accident, and hot women routinely fought against monsters out of mythology. He eyed the goblet in his hands suspiciously. Galene hadn’t seemed murderous when she was patching him up, but could he really trust her? She had tried to kill her kids after all. He sniffed it. It smelled like regular wine, but weren’t there undetectable poisons? “Drink it, godling. My maenad wouldn’t poison you,” a deep voice boomed overhead. Mason looked up and around, seeing nothing but endless white. His palms started to sweat. “Who—” “Oh, for fuck’s sake, man, drink the damn wine, and get out of my temple! I have an orgy scheduled for nine o’clock!” He jumped to his feet, realizing it was Dionysus speaking to him. Should he bow? Kneel? “Just drink the wine!” Dionysus whined, his voice pleading. “I’m really horny and don’t want to be bothered with relatives tonight, okay?” Mason nodded dumbly and drank the wine. It was surprisingly sweet. As soon as it hit his stomach, strength flowed through his body. He placed the goblet on the ground next to the platform and stood. “Um, thanks?” Dionysus chuckled. “No problem. Galene is one of my favorites, and her daughter…” His voice trailed off as he let out a dreamy sigh. “If that female would give me half the chance, I’d maybe forget about my celebrations.” Mason’s jaw bunched with anger. “Don’t go near her.” “Oh, ho! Is my nephew in love with the Enforcer?” Dionysus sounded delighted at the discovery. “Well, well! I’m sure you and Damocles will have a lot to talk about.” There was a clap, and Mason found himself standing in front of the door. He looked around. How? Did he really want to know? No. Not really.

“Now, go on, shoo. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass, nephew.” What felt like a massive hand pushed him forward, and Mason tumbled through the doorway, landing on his ass on the other side. The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off all light. He peered around the deep darkness, barely able to make out vague shadows as his eyes tried to adjust. “Roxana?” “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice soft, hesitant. “Are you okay?” Something in her voice pulled at him. He pushed to his hands and knees, crawling in the direction he’d heard her voice. When he neared her, he could only see the vaguest outline of her body. His hand touched a foot encased in a wickedly high heel. He smiled. She’d changed clothes. “I’m okay. Are you?” He trailed his hand up the firm calf until he found her arms linked around her knees. “Yeah. You were gone a long time.” Maybe it was the darkness, or the wine he’d imbibed, but Mason felt a rush of lust that had to be appeased. He disengaged her arms and, using his greater strength, urged her flat on her back. He couldn’t see her well, but he could smell her sweet scent, feel the warmth of her body as it cushioned his. He was a goner. **** Roxana’s heartbeat tripled, then quadrupled. She hadn’t expected Mason to come out of the temple with his sanity. She’d worried she’d made the wrong choice by bringing him to her mother, but it was a chance she had had to take. The last thing she expected was for him to come out smelling of wine and aroused male. In the near perfect darkness, she was reliant on her other senses, and they were all tuned to Mason. When he pushed her to her back among the dead leaves, she thought she’d faint for the first time in her life. Her knees were still up, her heels digging tiny holes into the soft dirt beneath the foliage. The Donna Karan skirt and blouse she’d changed into offered no protection from Mason’s hands. And she didn’t care. She’d missed him while he was gone, worried about him. He’d been in the temple for at least eight hours. She’d nearly worn out her phone battery checking the time every five minutes.

His mouth found hers with unerring instinct, his luscious lips dragging across hers until she opened for him. The first foray of his tongue into her mouth flooded her with intoxicating need. She moaned as she drank of Mason and wine. Liquid heat bloomed in her core, soaking the thin panties she’d put on. Looping her arms around his neck, she dug her fingers into his hair, tugging on the thick, cool strands. She needed to assure herself he was okay. He’d come far too close to bleeding out for her peace of mind. And she needed to know whatever her mother had told him hadn’t changed his mind about her. Although it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t meant for her. He’d hook up with some goddess or godling and forget all about the time he spent with the Enforcer. But for now, he was hers, and she’d absorb as much pleasure as she could. One of his big hands encircled her ankle, the soft rasp of his callused fingers as he trailed them up her leg leaving Roxana a trembling mass of muscles and goo. His tongue delved deeper, tangling with hers as those wicked fingers slipped up to the vulnerable skin of her thigh. Her legs fell open, her inner slut taking over her body. Mason chuckled against her mouth as he pulled back, his teeth nipping at her lips. She let out a little mewl of disappointment which quickly became a sigh of approval as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to her neck. Her grip on his hair loosened the instant a long finger stroked along the damp silk of her panties. Her hands arms fell to her sides. “Will you be angry if I rip this shirt off of you?” he asked her, his tongue tracing the deep V collar of her blouse. Roxana tried to think of an answer. She was pretty sure she had one, but the finger between her legs had discovered the leg band of her panties and foraged beneath it. Her hips bucked as Mason stroked along her cleft. What had he asked her? Her blouse disappeared, buttons flying everywhere, but she couldn’t find it in herself to protest. The humid night air felt heavenly against her scorching hot skin. Her bra snapped beneath Mason’s onslaught, but who gave a damn when he was slowly finger-fucking her? His mouth found the peak of her breast as though it had a homing beacon on it. His tongue drew wet designs around her nipple before flicking it. At the same time, his plunging finger slid from the

tight grasp of her inner muscles and focused on her clit. Roxana’s eyes opened wide. She groaned loudly, feeling no shame in the shadowy darkness. “Please, Mason.” He lifted his head, and his hand slipped from beneath her panties. She felt a moment’s panic, her arms coming up to pull him back to her when she felt her panties ripped away. At this rate she’d have to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret. Mason still moved away from her, but she knew where he was headed and didn’t mind. If anything, she helped him by tearing her skirt off as his mouth drifted down her stomach. She gasped when his tongue dipped and swirled around her navel. Her pussy clenched. Oh, gods, she was going to come before his mouth reached his target. He nibbled on the soft skin of her lower belly, and her inner muscles fluttered wildly. He moved lower, draping her legs over his shoulders as he spread her thighs to make way for his body. Hoarse pants escaped her; she couldn’t hold them back. Her fingers scrambled for purchase on the ground, digging into the dirt as his tongue furrowed through her cleft. “Gods!” He hummed. “Have I mentioned how much I love the way you taste?” His words vibrated against her sensitive nether lips. His tongue swirled around her clit before dipping to lap at her entrance. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “You taste like my favorite dessert. I could stay right here forever.” He shifted his mouth to wrap his lips around her clit, suckling her in long draws. Roxana didn’t know if it was his words, his tongue, or a combination of both, but whatever the case, it sent her careening over the edge of climax. Her body convulsed, arching off the ground as she came. Mason lifted his head. “Damn, baby, I love the way you moan my name.” He lowered his head again, lapping at the wetness lining her slit. One of his fingers thrust into her channel, burrowing deep before withdrawing. “I want you in me,” she panted, near mindless from pleasure. “I am in you.” His words were muffled against her clit, and she felt each one straight to her womb. Then he added another finger, so two thrust inside her. It stretched her slightly, but not like she knew his cock would.

Frustrated tears burned her eyes. She wanted to come again, but she wanted him with her. She wanted to feel the completeness they’d experienced the night before. “Mason, please.” Perhaps he heard it in her voice, or maybe he was just as ready as she because he plunged into her in one smooth motion. As his cock plowed into her, she vaguely wondered when he’d taken his clothes off, but she lost the train of thought as he drew back and plunged again. She arched her back, purring in the back of her throat at the sensation of his big cock stretching her almost to the point of pain. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the heels of her shoes digging into his ass in encouragement to move faster. He obliged, smart man that he was, his body slamming into hers over and over again. He dipped down, thrusting his tongue into her mouth even as he penetrated her body. Greedy, desperate for him, Roxana suckled on him as her inner muscles gripped him tightly. He growled deep in his chest. He broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers as he picked up his pace. Roxana grabbed his biceps, digging in with her fingernails to keep herself in place. Their animalistic coupling touched her on a primal level, made her see this man as more than a job, more than a godling. She thanked the gods it was dark. She didn’t want a good look at his face. The intimacy of the act, now she knew him better, would be her undoing. Tension tightened her body as her orgasm crept up on her. The slick sound of his cock tunneling into her core increased her ardor. He surrounded her, caged her, kept her grounded. “Come for me, Roxana,” he growled. And she did, her orgasm spilling outward in a torrent of moisture and tight, clamping muscles. He pumped her with short, furious strokes, hitting her in all the right places. She sensed his head going back as he roared out his release. His cock spasmed inside her, his seed jetting into her womb. Roxana groaned as her arms and legs fell to the ground like dead weights. She wasn’t sure she’d ever move again. Mason slumped against her in a boneless heap. They both panted, although Roxana’s breaths were more like sobs. She held her breath to calm herself. Okay, so the man seriously

rocked her world. She shouldn’t have had sex with him again. She was an idiot. She squeezed her eyes shut. **** Mason sighed, content to be molded to his woman. His flaccid cock was still clasped inside her body. He felt the faint tremors as her orgasm rippled away. He nuzzled her neck, breathing deep of the sweet scent of Roxana mixed with the scent of their love-making. And it had been love-making. He hadn’t been looking for a partner, or even a regular bed mate, but from the instant she walked into his life, he wanted nothing more than to keep her there. Roxana wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to. He lapped at the soft hollow below her ear and felt her shiver in response. “I guess this means you’re feeling better,” she said. Mason laughed and moaned as his cock moved inside her. He could never get enough of this woman. Slow-rising heat filled him. She gulped loudly. “We should go. Her voice came out weak and shaky. Mason nipped the tip of her ear lobe. “In a hurry?” “Mm, um, I…yeah, we should go in case Hera sends some more assholes our way.” He liked how shaky her voice was, as though she was having a hard time controlling herself. The feeling was mutual. His cock stirred to life inside her, thickening even as her body bathed him in renewed moisture. She might want to leave, but she needed him. He pumped his hips, sending his growing erection deeper inside her heat. “Are you sure?” He sensed her indecision. Her muscles were tense, but her center was damp, tight, and welcoming. Plastered so tightly to her he could feel her heart pounding, he gritted his teeth and circled his hips, grinding his pelvis against her clit. Her breath hitched, and triumph soared. “Make–” She gasped. “Make it quick, dammit.” Mason smiled against her neck, glad for the darkness that hid his satisfaction. “You just lie back. I’ll be done in a minute, baby.” His breath whispered against her skin right before he bit the side of her neck.

She moaned loudly, her head falling back. Holding her in place with his teeth, he did as his woman wanted. He made her come quick over and over again until her cries shattered the dark night.

Chapter Eleven Roxana stared through the windshield, using the darkness as an excuse to look straight ahead and not make conversation. It was dark, and the road was crappy; but she could’ve driven it blindfolded. No, she stared because she needed a distraction from Mason’s overwhelming presence and his effect on her. Her nipples tightened beneath her Doo.Ri tank. Good thing she knew to pack more than one change of clothes, because her Donna Karan outfit had been shredded beyond hope when she’d finally looked for it. She could not believe she’d let him seduce her into five orgasms. Five! Either he’d been inspired, or way beyond horny after his time in Dionysus’s temple. She suspected the god of wine had had something to do with it more than Mason simply wanting her. The darkness of the vehicle created an atmosphere of intimacy. She chafed at the thought. Sure, she and Mason had great chemistry, but as soon as he was with his family, he’d see her as nothing more than a commodity to be used and tossed away. It always happened. Mason shifted in his seat, his scent wafting her way via the air conditioner. She tightened her hands on the wheel. He’d caressed and stroked her while they dressed again as though he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. She looked for something to drag her attention from the memory, to block any softening she felt towards him. “I met my uncle. Sort of.” He said it as though he still wasn’t quite sure what to believe. She supposed she understood his reservations, but how much more evidence did he need? “Oh?” He chuckled, and she did her best to ignore the hopeful fluttering of her stomach. “Yeah. He wanted me to get out so he could party.” Okay, that was enough fuel to add to her anger. He thought it was funny? Her mother was most likely being screwed seven ways to Sunday by Dionysus right now. It was not amusing; especially when she remembered the last time she’d been within range of Galene during her frenzy. She didn’t speak because she wasn’t sure she could, but Mason seemed to have no problem, not even realizing he dug a deeper hole with each word.

“You look like your mother,” he said, and she swore she could feel his eyes on her, “except you’re taller.” Well, duh! She was a giant. She narrowed her eyes on the bumpy road in front of her. She wanted him to stop talking because at this rate, she’d end up killing him herself. Had Zeus even thought about that possibility when he sent her on this little errand? Probably not. He thought everyone loved the fruit of his loins. She sneered. Mason was quiet for a while, though she knew he studied her. She could see the outline of his face turned towards her from the corner of her eye. She resolutely kept her gaze on the road. There were only two more days before the full moon. Well, one and a half days. If she thought she’d make it to Zeus’s temple before the deadline, she’d be there in a heartbeat, but with Hera sending so many powerful beings after them, the chances of them arriving at the corporate offices unscathed were slim-to-none. No, they needed to keep moving. She had several safe houses scattered across the country, but none of them were as well-warded as her townhouse had been. She frowned as they reached the turn that would take them back to civilization. There was one other option, but she hated to take it. In fact, she’d rather cut off her right arm. Mason moved again as though giving up on the conversation. He wasn’t immortal yet. Hera could easily have him killed on the mortal plane. She chewed on her bottom lip. If she took him through the Underworld first, they could work their way to Zeus’s temple office through the neighborhoods surrounding Mount Olympus. It was risky though, because they’d be in Hera’s backyard, and her minions would be eager to destroy one of Heracles’s children for their goddess. “So where are we going?” Mason finally asked as they reached the end of the access road. As they waited for traffic to slow so she could merge, Roxana debated the wisdom of telling Mason what she planned. On one hand, if she didn’t tell him anything, he couldn’t argue with her, but on the other hand, he needed to know just how precarious their position was. And for some reason, she didn’t want him going into anything halfblind. She took a deep breath and pulled into traffic. “We’re going to Hell.” ****

He thought she was joking. He expected her to start laughing and call him a gullible godling or something, but no. She stared straight ahead and drove with a single-minded focus he couldn’t help but dread. Hell? He frowned at the passing scenery. She must’ve meant a building, maybe a club, or maybe some little town he’d never heard of. He relaxed, satisfied by that rationalization. He almost chuckled, but swallowed the urge as he had a feeling his Roxana was not happy with him. She’d been silent from the time they got back in the Rover except for that announcement and a few grunts. It went back to their interlude in the clearing. She was pissed because he’d gotten to her, but she’d have to get over it. He’d be having her more and more if he had any say in the matter. He drowsed, lulled by the great sex, the effects of the wine, and the steady hum of the tires on the road. He was on the verge of sleep when he heard the faint sound of Roxana’s cell phone ringing. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing regular so she’d think he had fallen asleep. She answered. “Brice? Talk to me.” He could hear the vague sound of the giant talking, his words fast and hard. The car slowed. “What?” That did not sound good from his end. Her voice was flat, hard. Shit. “How many?” He heard her grit her teeth seconds before a vicious curse exploded from her. “I want him back. Now, Brice!” Instinctively, Mason knew this had to do with Akakios. Dread coiled into a tight knot in his stomach. She loved her brother, had nearly died protecting him from their mother. If someone had him, she’d move Heaven and Hell to get him. His stomach soured. This was his fault. He wasn’t sure what he could do to make things better, but he vowed he would. If Zeus wanted him to join the fold bad enough, maybe he could bargain with his grandfather. “We’re going through the Underworld. I’m heading to an entrance point.” She paused, and he heard more strident shouts from Brice. “I know. I know, dammit, but I don’t have a choice. I have to get him to Zeus as soon as possible. That’s the only way this shit will end. Now, tell me exactly who took him.” The Underworld. That’s what she’d meant by Hell. His heart sank. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the name alone did not

inspire confidence. He shook himself. It didn’t matter. The only way this whole clusterfuck would come to an end was for him to get to Zeus. Then Hera would have to pull back, and he hoped he would be able to save Roxana’s brother for her. He wanted to do it now, but his mortality hindered him. He wasn’t afraid to die; hell, he’d been a street soldier for a while before he’d wised-up, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet. He had something to look forward to, a woman he wanted to spend eternity with, if he could convince her it would work. He wouldn’t take stupid risks to impress her. Perhaps they’d be able to rescue Akakios together. He frowned. He didn’t know who had him, though. If the mares had him, they might be a little beyond his abilities. They were like their own cavalry and foot soldiers all in one. “I’ll call as soon as we get to the other side. Yeah, okay. Keep looking for him.” She hung up without saying goodbye, her head tilted down as she stared straight ahead at the road. “I know you’re awake.” Yeah, no use trying to pretend he wasn’t as tense as a piano wire. He sat up. “What’s going on?” She took several deep breaths, but not as though she was on the verge of crying. No, his woman seethed with intense rage. He could see her body trying to grow. Her deep breathing exercise was an attempt to calm herself and her fury. “Brice and Aki went to one of my safe houses further south.” He heard the leather on the steering wheel creak in the tight grip of her hands. “Lamias were waiting for them. They nearly killed Brice. When he woke up, Aki was gone.” She snarled, a primal, dangerous sound Mason felt the urge to echo. “Hera has pushed this shit to the next level.” He did not like the sound of that at all, but silently agreed with her. Hera’s determination to finish him off was bound to piss off a lot of people. “What do you need me to do?” **** She took another deep breath and the tension flowed from her with her exhalation. “I just need to get you to Zeus. He’ll fix it.” She hoped, she added inwardly. Everyone on high was convinced her mother’s actions had been justified. Who wanted the Harbinger of Death to live? She did. She didn’t care what the human healers had foretold about Akakios,

he was her baby brother, and he deserved a chance to prove he wasn’t going to destroy mankind. “Where’s this entrance point?” “Where else would the entrance to the Underworld be? New Orleans.” **** “Darling!” Hera embraced Zeus and pulled back to look into his handsome face. She’d loved him for longer than human history could possibly fathom. He looked the same as he had the first day she’d seen him, a young god who’d defeated his father for control of the pantheon. His silver eyes held the wisdom and power of his position. His long blond hair gleamed as brightly as the sun. He was hers and always would be, no matter how many women threw themselves at him. “My love.” He kissed her cheek, distractedly. “Have you heard any word from Enforcer Roxana?” It took considerable effort to keep from rolling her eyes. “No, my sweet. I believed it would be more beneficial to give her time to teach Mason about us on her own terms. He was raised as a human, after all. We wouldn’t want him to suffer a shock.” Death perhaps, but not shock. She wanted no reminder of Paris or Heracles in her home, which was where Zeus planned to bring his grandson. He frowned, obviously not pleased with that, but he didn’t gainsay her. She was the goddess of home and hearth, after all. “If you feel it’s for the best,” he finally said, though doubt colored his words. “I don’t know what the Fates and Furies were thinking to send Roxana. She’s not exactly sane.” “Don’t worry, dear. Everything will be fine.” As soon as Mason died. Roxana would be blamed for it and have to face Zeus’ wrath, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made to protect your loved ones. And to teach arrogant bastard children a lesson. She smiled up at Zeus. “Are plans going ahead for the celebration?” He finally beamed, displaying the dimples she adored so much. “Yes. Hermes is hand-delivering the invitations now. Heracles will be surprised.” Hera fought to hold her smile. If she had her way, Heracles would be very surprised. She hoped her people were able to complete

their tasks. She wanted Mason’s body to be delivered right into Heracles’s arms. Her BlackBerry vibrated. “Oh, dear, I have to take this.” Zeus kissed her softly. “You work too hard, love. Finish your call, and we’ll go to Venice for dinner.” She nearly melted at his feet. Heat rose in her body at the glint in his eyes. “I’ll make it very quick.” She stumbled from the board room, towards her office. Her husband still had the power to make her knees weak. Her assistant, Bethany, waved to her with a rueful grin when she saw Hera’s condition. She fell into her chair, her heart pounding with anticipation for the coming night. Her BlackBerry buzzed again. She answered in breathless voice. “Yes?” “Missstresss, we have captured the death bringer.” Xychxana’s sibilant tones were both triumphant and fearful. No doubt the lamia was worried sick about how Roxana would react to the kidnapping. She had every reason to. If Akakios was the Harbinger of Death, Roxana was the hand that dealt the lethal blow. “Is he harmed?” Hera asked Xychxana sharply. She didn’t want Roxana coming after her because Akakios had been injured. She shuddered. The giantess was a powerful tool for the executives, but only because she was paid well and they’d agreed never to harm her brother. Hera played with fire. She knew she did, but the end justified the means. She had to believe in that. “No, missstresss, you sssaid not to hurt him, ssso we did not.” She paused. “We have brought him to Delphi. He hasss given usss no trouble.” “Good. Keep him quiet and out of the way. When the time is right, I’ll contact Roxana, and let her know how to get her brother back.” She hung up with Xychxana, her hands shaking with relief over the success of at least one aspect of her grand plan. By now Roxana knew about Akakios’s kidnapping. Her Cyclops cousin would have told her. Now she needed to wait a little while, let the power of the unknown work against the giantess. And then, when Hera was ready for it, she’d strike the bargain.

**** Mason would have laughed to realize the entrance to the Underworld was in New Orleans, but their situation was too grim for humor. Just when he thought things were making sense, something went horribly wrong, and things went from bad to worse. Or he found out the world he thought he knew was only a façade for something much bigger. He shook his head. Negative thoughts wouldn’t help them. He wasn’t sure positive thoughts would help either, but at least it made things seem less hopeless. The drive from Lafayette to New Orleans had only taken an hour and a half the way Roxana drove. They stopped once for fuel and a few snacks, but even that one pause in the journey didn’t slow them for long. However, the ride felt much longer since they didn’t speak the entire trip. Mason wasn’t sure if it was because of what had happened between them in the woods, or if she was just too concerned for her brother to think of anything else, but he felt like they were drifting apart. He hated the distance and wanted to bridge it, but didn’t know how. They reached New Orleans as dawn approached. Traffic grew heavier as morning commuters poured into the city, workers preparing to start their day, an immortal and a godling preparing to enter Hell. Yeah, just a regular day in N’Awlins. It had been twenty-four hours since he first met Roxana, and his life had gone from boring to action-packed. If things went well for them, this time tomorrow, he’d meet his grandfather and possibly his father. It was a daunting realization and left him sick to his stomach. “How much time did I spend in the temple?” he asked as they drove into the CBD. The Superdome, a golden testimony to perseverance and hope, gleamed against the skyline. “About eight or nine hours.” Something in his neck cracked as his head jerked to the side. “What? It only felt like twenty minutes, maybe an hour at tops.” A wry smile curled her mouth. “Yeah, time passes differently on the other plane.” “Is it going to do that when we get to the Underworld?” He supposed he’d have to get used to it if he were going to work for the company. He frowned. He didn’t know what the hell he could bring to the equation. He wasn’t college educated and had a criminal history, unless they needed a bartender.

“Yes, of course. The Underworld is like the backdoor to Mount Olympus.” He could’ve sworn she said “or sewer system”. “It won’t be, uh, pleasant, or safe for either of us.” He frowned. “Isn’t there a god who rules there?” “Hades? Yeah. He doesn’t, uh, mingle much with the other executives. He makes them nervous.” A secret smile crossed her face. “He’s actually kind of cool, to be honest. I used to hang out with him and Persephone a good bit when I was a kid. He won’t mind us passing through as long as we don’t stir up too much trouble.” “How much trouble is too much?” She shot him a surprised glance and laughed. “Any trouble. He’d be within his rights to keep us there as long as he liked. I’m hoping he won’t. If we’re caught, I’m counting on his affection for me to get us out of trouble.” Her lips pursed. “And I’m praying Persephone, his wife, is with him. She can calm him like no one else.” “That doesn’t sound very promising.” Roxana shrugged her shoulder as she took the Camp Street exit. “I can’t promise you sunshine and roses, Mason. What we’re doing is dangerous and could very well end up getting us both killed.” “I’m not asking for fucking sunshine and roses. I don’t want to see you hurt.” “I don’t need you to protect me, godling. I’ve been doing this a helluva long time, and to my complete surprise, I’ve done it without you.” Her voice was as sharp as a dagger and just as lethal, cutting into his manly pride. His hands curled into fists as he gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t matter. If this is going to get you into trouble, or put you in danger, we’ll find another way.” She drove for a while without speaking. The Quarter wasn’t exactly jumping at three in the morning, but it wasn’t dead either. Locals and tourists wandered the sidewalks like zombies. She turned onto St. Anne Street and then pulled into a very discreet alley between a bar and a row of townhouses. She cut the engine off and sat quietly. Mason tensed. She was putting a lot of thought into what she was about to say, and he knew without even hearing it that it was going to piss him off. She half-turned in her seat to face him. Her skin glowed in the dim security lighting in the parking area. There was a glitter of

something that might have been regret in her eyes; it was an emotion he mistrusted immediately. One of her hands rose to rub her forehead as she sighed. “I screwed this whole mission up.” He wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or herself, but suspected it was meant for both of them. “That first night was…a mistake. It should’ve never happened, would’ve never happened if I had known who you were. And I compounded that mistake by letting it happen again. We have no future, no matter what you think.” She looked away from him. “I don’t need you to feel protective of me because nothing will come of it. You’ll go on high and forget all about whatever you think is between us. You’ll probably even laugh about it with your new friends because you’ll know exactly how ludicrous any type of relationship would be for us.” Okay, she hadn’t just pissed him off; she’d managed to offend him as well. His gut soured. She thought he’d shrug her off, laugh at her when he joined his family? The seriousness in her face told him she did. “Is that what happened between you and Damocles?” he asked bitterly, not caring if he gave away the fact that he’d learned about her while in Dionysus’s temple. Even in the darkness, he could see the color wash away from her face. He felt instant regret for bringing it up, but dammit, she was his, and he wasn’t going to let her put herself in danger for him, no matter what weak excuses she threw between them. He expected her to bristle at him, to roar at him in anger, something, but instead, she shrugged. “Pretty much. Godlings don’t mix with the riffraff of the lower classes, Mason.” “I’m an American. Classes mean shit to me.” “That’s rich. Olympus, Inc. isn’t a fucking democracy. It’s an oligarchy. You’ll be one of the privileged ones, so you won’t have anything to worry about.” She let out a short, harsh bark of laughter and waved her hand as though to dismiss the subject. “Let’s get this over with, so I can get back to my life.” His nostrils flared at her easy dismissal, but he allowed her to go. Roxana wasn’t going to take him at his word. She’d learned her lesson the first time around. No, he’d have to show her somehow. He wasn’t sure how yet, but he’d figure it out. Then she could make it up to him by staying with him for as long as they both lived.

They got out of the car, a stiff, uneasy tension between them that hadn’t been there before. Mason blamed Roxana. She was stubborn. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked around pointedly. “Well?” She sniffed and walked to a small door hidden behind a wild tangle of ivy. Wrought iron and elegantly carved, there was no telling how long the gate had been there. They had to duck down to fit through the archway, which led them to a small courtyard at the back of an old-world Spanish townhouse. Roxana barely looked back at him as she strolled to a grate in the middle of the courtyard. Reaching down, she lifted the grate and jumped through the opening. Mason walked over and peered into the hole. Absolute darkness met his eyes. He didn’t hear Roxana land, but he’d seen her go in. Worried she might have been injured in the fall, Mason leapt after her. Probably not his brightest idea, but then ever since he met her, his brain had shriveled to the size of a pea. He didn’t hit anything, though, to his surprise and dismay. Sensory deprivation made it hard to tell how fast or far he’d fallen, but he had the feeling he was falling a very long ways. He scissored his legs and paddled his arms in the vain hope of slowing himself, or finding a grip, something to ground him in reality. Of course, there was no hope against the fall. Finally, he sighed and stopped struggling. He’d either die when he hit whatever he was headed for, or he’d come out unscathed. Not exactly the best odds, but once again, he just had to go with the flow.

Chapter Twelve The smallest pinprick of light in the far distance caught his attention first. He thought it would take longer to reach, but between one blink and the next, he hit the ground, his legs buckling. He should’ve been flat as a pancake between the speed he traveled and the impact, but he felt remarkably unbroken. “Took you long enough,” Roxana said a few feet away. Mason looked around and saw her standing with her arms crossed. She wasn’t wearing her halter top and skirt anymore. She’d conjured a black corset and black leather pants. She looked biker chick hot. His cock hardened in reaction. He should’ve been used to the way he responded to her, but it was always a surprise. That alone was enough to convince him that life with Roxana would never be boring. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He stood to dust off his jeans and chest. He hadn’t managed to find another T-shirt after Galene had shredded his at the temple. “I had to make a pit stop.” He thought he saw a shadow of a smile cross her face, but it was gone so fast, he must’ve imagined it. Pushing aside his anger and frustration, he looked around. They’d fallen into what looked like a cavern. The hole in the ceiling didn’t look big enough for them to have fallen through, but obviously they had as it was the only overhead entrance. The walls were cream-colored and had a sheen that looked suspiciously like satin. The spongy ground beneath his feet had the texture and feel of deep red shag carpet. “Why do I feel like I’m in a whore house?” Roxana looked around and shrugged. “That’s because it was a whore house. Before he married Persephone, Hades kept the women who interested him most in here.” She walked over to a set of manacles on the floor, nudging them with the toe of her boot. “From what I understand he had quite a little harem here.” “Interesting.” “Isn’t it though? Hades, for being the god of the death world, was quite the playboy.” She tossed her long ponytail over her shoulder. “Let’s go.” He glared at her back as she led the way out of the room. At least, he glared at it until he noticed the intoxicating sway of her hips

in those pants. He bit back a groan. It was torture to watch her, want her, and know she regretted the intimacy they’d shared. It pissed him off and hurt him, dammit. He hated the sharp pang her words left behind. Mason shook his head. He needed to think about how he could fix the mess they were in. He wasn’t giving up on her. That’d be like asking him to give up the fantasy that one day his exes would come crawling back, begging him to take them back. His lip curled. Okay, that was a stretch, but the likelihood of success was about the same. If he couldn’t give a mortal woman what she wanted and needed, what made him think he could give Roxana everything she wanted? She was used to luxuries, took advantage of them, too. He wore borrowed clothes that barely fit. She stepped over a small crack in the ground. “Watch your step here.” He finally looked at his surroundings, taking in the fine marble walls and black, granite floors. The crack appeared to be a seam between slabs of stone, but if Roxana said to beware of it, he would. He looked down as he stepped over and felt his face pale. Holy. Shit. “Yeah, scary, huh?” Her voice came closer until she stood right next to him. “You might not want to straddle it. Sometimes little bursts of flame escape.” They both stared at the fiery pit beneath their feet. She jerked him back as a blast of heat whistled through the crack. Mason’s skin felt blistered, but the heat washed away as quickly as it came. He was lucky his balls hadn’t been roasted. “Is that Hell?” he asked because he’d been raised in a Catholic orphanage. Every kid learned about the fiery pits of Hell. “Um, no. That’s Hephaestus’s chamber.” At his blank look, she made an impatient sound. “Hephaestus, volcano god? God of Smithies?” Mason shrugged. Apparently his education was sorely lacking. “He lives down there?” He peered back at the crevice in the granite. “Yeah. He’s Hera’s son, but hates her as much as the rest of us do, so he won’t bother us.” She turned on her heel and started down the hall again. “This part of Hades’s palace was abandoned after Persephone came along. It was his ‘pleasure house’, and she doesn’t hold with that shit. Only Hephaestus lives down here anymore, and that’s because no one can stand his taste in music.”

Even as she spoke, he heard the faint sounds of a polka blaring beneath their feet. He shuddered. Yeah, he could see why that would keep people away. Mason looked around as they walked on, taking in the mosaics on the walls, now covered in soot and ash. Every now and then, they would pass a chamber more opulent than anything he’d ever seen before. “He used to party down here?” Roxana snorted. “All the company executives party. Now that the company’s in place and their children and grandchildren handle the day-to-day work, they have more time on their hands. It’s like being surrounded by college seniors on spring break for eternity.” She shuddered. “That was the orgy room.” She pointed out a room filled with every manner of sex toy and apparatus a person could ever imagine. “Those were some wild parties.” He looked at her sharply. “You went to the orgies?” He prayed she hadn’t. Her frown was dark. “Of course not. A, I was too young, and B, only gods, godlings, and sprites were invited. The rest of us acted as servants.” She spun on her heel and walked away, her stride angry. Well, shit. He didn’t know if she was pissed that she’d been treated as a servant, or if she was mad that she hadn’t participated in any of the festivities. Mason glanced at the room again and shuddered. He wouldn’t be attending any orgies. Some of those things looked painful. **** Roxana led Mason through the deserted part of Hades’s palace. She knew the layout like the back of her hand, having used that part of her grandfather’s domain as her playground. Hephaestus wasn’t her blood relative, but he’d created her father at the dawn of time and considered her and Akakios born of him. The Graces, his blood daughters, didn’t visit him, so he’d taken the young Roxana and even younger Akakios in to raise after the trouble with Galene. If this had been a normal visit, she’d be with him at his forge, watching him work in spite of his horrible polka music. But this was far from normal. Sneaking into Mount Olympus via Hades’s realm meant bad things could happen if they were caught. Despite what she’d told Mason, as lenient as Hades was and as much as he and Persephone liked her, what she was doing was considered taboo. Mason would be somewhat safe because Zeus wouldn’t allow Hades

to punish him. She, on the other hand, would suffer for abusing their trust. Maybe. It was so hard to tell with Hades. She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that. Her mission was to get Mason to Zeus. They’d stay out of Hades’s hair. After an hour of walking, they finally reached the stairs leading to the main palace. She conjured her staff. She wouldn’t kill anyone down here, but if she had to, she’d knock them out. It wouldn’t pay for them to be discovered by a servant. “How do you keep doing that?” he whispered. When she looked at him blankly, he waved his hands. “The weapons and clothes. How do you make them come and go?” She frowned because she really wasn’t sure. She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly how it works. I just know that I have a special reserve of power for magic. All employees of the company have one. It’s kind of like opening a portal to your home base. You can pull anything from it that’s in your possession.” He still looked confused. “Okay, like I can’t conjure clothes for you because I don’t have any that would fit you, unless you want to wear one of my dresses. But anything portable in my home, I can call upon. I usually reserve it only for weapons and armor, although there are times when a woman has to have chocolate, you know?” He rolled his eyes, but didn’t interrupt. “The more you pull from your pool of magic, the less you have available. Makes sense?” He frowned. “Is that all you can do? You don’t have any other powers?” It was Roxana’s turn to roll her eyes. “No. I’m not one of the golden children, remember? I’m strong, fast, and can fight with any weapon. I can conjure clothes and items I need as I need them. It’s enough for me. When you come into power, there’s no telling what you’ll be able to do. That’s why godlings are searched for and initiated by Zeus himself.” Mason said nothing else, though he appeared thoughtful. Unfortunately, they didn’t have time for him to puzzle everything out. “We have to move again. Stay behind me, and be as quiet as possible.” Mason nodded his understanding. She refused to let her eyes linger on his glistening torso. The heat from Hephaestus’s rooms left Mason sweaty and gorgeous. No, not thinking about it. She took a deep breath. With her back to the railing, she started up the stairs. She looked back to make sure Mason was with

her and jumped a little to see he was right on her heels. The man was silent as a wraith. She sent him a tight smile. She would not be impressed. Nope. The trip up the stairs was long and tense. She stopped several times because she thought she heard movement, but it only turned out to be rodents in the walls. Cerebus must’ve been put on a diet if the rats were multiplying again. Her heart pounded as they approached the living area of the palace. The closer they came to the top of the stairs, the more sconces were lit, leaving them with little to no shadows to hide among. Shuffling footsteps sounded ahead, and Roxana stopped in mid-stride. The sound came again, then a soft gasp. A masculine groan echoed down the stairwell, the timbre of the voice familiar. She frowned. “Oh, baby, yes!” a woman called out, her voice husky and breathless. Shit. A lover’s tryst. Roxana waved a hand at Mason, urging him to sit since they’d be there a while. She followed suit, easing onto a stair three above where he sat. Her cheeks burned at the passionate sounds reverberating down the stairs. Her nipples tightened, and she avoided Mason’s gaze. The last thing she needed was to look into his face and see the same desire she felt for him. She hadn’t lied to him back in New Orleans. Nothing could come of their sexual encounters. She wouldn’t torture herself by doing it again. Roxana studied her nails in an exaggerated pose of boredom as the cries became louder. She couldn’t quite place who the man was, but she figured the woman was one of the palace nymphs. Those little whores would jump anything with a dick. She sighed. “Oh, Damocles! Oh!” Her heart froze. **** Mason’s body went on alert as he saw Roxana’s head lift like a pointer’s. He was seated below her, but he could see her eyes narrow on the entrance at least another twenty feet above them. He’d heard the woman shout Damocles’s name and remembered what Dionysus and Roxana had mentioned in passing. He put all the pertinent information together and arrived at the proper conclusion if Roxana’s face was anything to go by. Damocles was the man who’d laughed at her when he achieved his immortal status. From the way

Roxana’s body stiffened, he suspected she wasn’t completely over the bastard. And that only served to piss Mason off. Jealousy warred with empathy. He would understand her anger if it was only her pride that hurt, but if she was jealous of Damocles and still carrying a torch for him, the immortal was a dead man. Somehow he’d figure out a way to put a serious hurting on the bastard. The cries finally died down. The woman giggled. A soft smack sounded, and she promised to see him later. The light sounds of her feet moving away told Mason Damocles remained behind, probably too sated to move. There was a gleam in Roxana’s eyes he didn’t trust, so he wasn’t shocked when the staff disappeared and her body tensed. He reached out to grab her ankle. The look she gave him was angry, vengeful. He shook his head at her, trying to tell her without words, that whatever she had planned wasn’t worth it. She glared at him and pulled her leg out of his grip. After that, it was a losing battle. She was up the stairs in a flash with him right on her heels. He jerked to a stop when he saw her pause at the entrance of the stairwell. She had one arm resting on the wall above her head, her hip cocked out with her hand propped on it. Her stance reeked of seduction and feminine allure, especially in the form-fitting clothes she wore. His eyes narrowed on her as she shook her head, her long hair freed from the ponytail. What the hell? “Damocles,” she purred, her voice dripping sex. Mason reeled as though he’d been punched in the solar plexus. She was flirting with the bastard who’d hurt her! Rage mingled with betrayal and a hell of a lot of pain inside him. He was going to tear Damocles limb from limb and beat him to death with his own arms. Then he would toss Roxana over his shoulder and find a place to show her exactly how a man who wasn’t an asshole treated his woman when she misbehaved. “Roxana?” Damocles’s voice was deep and resonate, full of power; Mason sneered. Then the asshole came into view. Mason’s mouth dropped open. He’d expected some guy who looked like Brad Pitt in Troy. Damn you to Hell, Hollywood! This guy was not quite a troll, but he wasn’t far from it. He was tall, of course; Mason hadn’t come across

any in this new world who wasn’t well over six feet except for Roxana’s mother. His blond hair was long and coarse, like some oldworld Viking. The image stuck in Mason’s mind as he took in Damocles’s long, thick beard. He was built like a tank with thick arms and a barrel chest. Beady black eyes looked at Roxana like she was a Valkyrie come to take him to Valhalla. He wore what Mason guessed was supposed to be a white tunic, but it was so stained, it looked gray. He shuddered. This was the guy she was so broken-hearted over? His gaze swept from Roxana’s glowing face to Damocles’s stunned expression. Seriously, what the hell? “What are you doing here?” Damocles asked, drifting closer to Roxana. He didn’t seem to even notice Mason, or maybe figured Mason was beneath him. Roxana shrugged, her bare skin glistened in the torchlight. “I was just passing through and saw you.” She smiled her eyes downcast to hide a gleam in her eye Mason didn’t trust. “It’s been a long time.” Knowing lust kindled in the nasty bastard’s eyes. “It has.” He stood within touching distance of Roxana. His fingers twitched as though he was barely retraining himself from grabbing her. Mason’s possessiveness reared its ugly head. Roxana didn’t discourage the bastard. In fact, she preened in front of him. She arched her back slightly which caused her breasts to rise above her corset like an offering. Damocles’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. The second his hands came up for a feel, Mason was on the move, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Roxana had it well in hand. Too much so, if Damocles’s girlish screams were anything to go by. She gave a twist of her hand, and the barbarian’s knees crumpled. Roxana followed him down since she had her hand on his balls, although Mason suspected it wouldn’t have bothered her to rip them off. His own testes retreated in fear of her vengeance. She crouched over his curled up body, shaking her head. “Great Damocles, you thought I’d forget what happened all those years ago?” Whimpering little cries were wrung from his throat. “Roxy, I’m sorry. It was a joke!” Mason saw her arm flex seconds before Damocles uttered a shriek. He winced and rubbed his stomach. He felt nauseated. As much as he didn’t like the man for having been one of Roxana’s

former lovers and one who hurt her, he didn’t like witnessing a man with his balls in a vise. “You thought it was funny to have your friends watch us have sex? You thought it was funny to spread rumors about me to the other executives and send them my way like I’m some kind of whore?” She spoke through her teeth, her entire focus on the bastard whose nuts she was crushing. “Well, babe, this time the joke’s on you, Damocles, darling.” Soft gold light surrounded her free hand, and a dagger appeared. “I’m finally gonna do the female population a favor and neuter you.” Mason turned away because he was going to puke. Chunks of skin missing from Roxana’s arm? He could handle that. Having a spear shoved through his shoulder? No big deal. But no man wanted to watch another being castrated. He could stop her, but Roxana in a dangerous mood on the hunt for balls was not a Roxana he wanted to go up against. He liked his balls right where they were. A high pitched scream sounded and then a thump. “Pussy,” Roxana muttered darkly. Mason turned, expecting to see blood, but instead saw Roxana’s knife dissipate and a tube of superglue take its place. “What are you—” “Finally decided to join the party, huh?” She tugged the front of Damocles’s pants down, revealing the man’s cock. “What are you doing?” Now he was outraged. It wasn’t penis envy because he was almost certain he was bigger than Damocles. “I’m having my revenge.” She opened the tube and applied it to the man’s cock. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Two thousand years! Two thousand years of listening to this asshole and his friends laugh behind my back because I thought he loved me.” She pulled up the bottom of his shirt and carefully bonded his cock to his stomach. “Company events were hell. Then word got out, and now I have every godling thinking I’m part of the benefits package.” She conjured her purse. “It might be childish to you, but it hurt.” She rifled through the contents and pulled out a marker. She wrote “dick” on his forehead in big, bold writing. She dropped the marker next to him and stood. The next thing she pulled out of her bag was a packet of anti-bacterial wipes. “And trust me, Mason, this will happen to you if you even think about hurting me like that.” She

tossed the used towelette on Damocles’s unconscious form before she turned to him. “Got it?” Roxana squeaked as Mason tackled her, his big body pushed her back until she met the wall. Looking into her surprised face, he couldn’t deny the melting in the center of his chest. She would never ask someone to save her. This woman would go toe-to-toe with anyone, and even if she lost, she’d find some way to get her revenge. He liked that about her. He liked it a lot. What he didn’t like was her assumptions about him. “Don’t ever compare me to that asshole,” he told her through clenched teeth. His hands flexed on her arms. “I would never hurt you, Roxana. And stop thinking that the minute I join the family, I’m going to dropkick you to the curb. You and I? We won’t be finished for a long time.” **** Stupid hormones were messing with her head because she could’ve sworn he’d just told her they were an item. She wanted to ask him what he meant, but his mouth closed over hers. Her brain short circuited. His tongue thrust between her lips aggressively, claiming her mouth for his own. She could see the “Mason’s Mouth” stamp with her inner eye and felt a thrill of excitement. Apparently a woman’s wrath turned Mason on because when he pressed his hips into her, his cock was a hard ridge against her belly. She moaned. Their tongues dueled for dominance, the taste of her man. Damn! She couldn’t start thinking of him that way. She turned her head away from him, her breasts brushing his chest with her erratic breaths. Regardless of what he said now, once he had the power of the gods running through his veins in full force, he’d forget all about her. They would make sure of it. Ineffectual tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “We have to go.” It was hard to talk when his mouth blazed a trail of fire down her neck to the hollow of her throat. Her knees wobbled, and a fine sheen of perspiration broke out all over her body. Mason could get her hot quicker than a shoe sale. His teeth grazed the skin of her collarbone, and she thought she might faint. It was the corset. She shouldn’t have worn it; she never could get enough air when she wore them. “Have. To. Go.”

He growled, his mouth trailing further south until he nibbled on the quivering mounds of flesh sticking out the top of the breathstealing garment. “Mine.” Her heart sounded like a stampede. No, wait. That wasn’t her heart. Those were footsteps. “Shit!” She grabbed Mason’s head and tried to pull him away from her cleavage. But the damn man was where he wanted to be and refused to budge. He buried his face in the valley between her breasts, his tongue wiggling beneath her corset. His big hands slid down to her ass, squeezing the globes in time with his lapping tongue. Roxana’s eyes crossed. “If you look this way, you’ll see a fine depiction of Hades and Persephone’s romance,” a bored voice said, the sound bouncing off the walls of the hallway. “Dammit! Mason, stop!” Roxana grabbed his hair and pulled his head away from her breasts. His hands were another matter. One of his clever fingers had found the seam of her pants and used it to stroke over her swollen clit. She gulped. “T-Tour group. Have to hide.” She would’ve been pissed at the way he went from horn dog to guard dog if she hadn’t seen and felt his erection for herself. As it was, she supposed she should’ve been impressed because he threw her over his shoulder – without staggering – and sprinted on silent feet toward the end of the hall. They slipped through a doorway as the group rounded the corner and discovered Damocles. She was set on her feet with enough force to make her teeth ache, but she ignored the discomfort to peek back down the hall. The group stood around the body looking horrified and amused. “Who are they?” Mason’s hot breath brushed her ear, and chills erupted all over her skin. “New arrivals to the Underworld,” she whispered. “The palace is a way station for most. They come in for debriefing on the afterlife, and then they’re sent to their eternal rewards. Some of them will stay for a while because they have unfinished business on earth.” “But a tour group?” She shrugged. “Hades got tired of having to explain things and show them around himself. The sprites he used to party with became guides.” “This is insane.”

“It’s all in the company handbook.” “Which I never got, remember?” “You’re such a whiner.” His hands settled on her waist as he nipped the tip of her ear. “And you’re a bitch with attitude, but I love you anyway.” The commotion around Damocles’s body grew louder, but Roxana barely heard it. She felt as though she’d taken a charge from Poseidon’s trident. She must’ve heard him wrong. “Uh-oh, looks like he’s waking up,” Mason said, his mouth right next to her ear. “Who?” She was still in shock over what he’d said. He couldn’t have meant it, but the butterflies in her stomach hoped he had. “Your ex.” Roxana shook her head and peeked again. Sure enough Damocles moved and groaned. Damn, she’d been hoping he would be out for a lot longer. “I should’ve knocked him out myself instead of letting him faint. We have to go.” “Lead the way, sweetheart.” She shot him a suspicious look at his words, but his face was impassive. He even raised an eyebrow at her squinty-eyed look, which told her nothing. Hmph. She’d figure out what he was up to, but she could hear Damocles babbling behind them. If they were caught Hades would rip her a new asshole. Time to go.

Chapter Thirteen There were times in a man’s life he’d always remember. He’d always remember the first time he had an erection in an inappropriate place, the first time he had sex, and the first time he told a woman he loved her – and meant it. And it was no coincidence that for each of those first times, a man realized he was an idiot. He cursed himself to hell and back and every which way between. He hadn’t meant to blurt out his feelings, especially when he was still unsure if it was love he felt. And going by the shocked look on Roxana’s face, she hadn’t appreciated it anyway. She wasn’t going to fall into his lap because he professed to care for her. She’d been down that road before. But then again, so had he. Three times, in fact, so he was probably better equipped than Roxana to know when he’d found the other half of his soul. Hard-earned experience had given him the confidence to know what he felt for Roxana was real. They hadn’t been together long, not like he had with his fiancée, almost-fiancée, and last girlfriend but none of them had made him feel the way he did with Roxana. It wasn’t physical, although he’d gladly fuck her ‘til the cows came home. He admired her courage and strength. She wasn’t a helpless woman who needed a strong man to lean on. She was a strong woman who needed a strong man to be her partner in life. He sighed. She also made Missouri mules look complacent. Even now, the suspicious looks she kept casting his way set his nerves on edge. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about. They were sneaking through hell. Underworld, he mentally corrected. There was no telling what would happen if they were caught. She’d gone psycho on her ex and left him to be found by a tour group. A tour group in hell. Underworld. He shook his head. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was a whisper in the darkness of the corridor. They’d passed several normal-looking rooms, but they gave him bad vibes. Roxana had led him through a hidden passage that ran the length of the palace. She assured him if they stayed quiet, they could make it out of the palace and into Erebus, the land around the palace that led to each division of Underworld.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he finally whispered back, except he hated being clueless about this new world he found himself in. It wasn’t as though his high school guidance counselor thought he would need a class on Greek mythology. His lips twisted in a smile as he imagined what Ms. Greer would say if she could see him now. “We should be able to see the side door any minute now, so keep your eyes peeled.” “Aye, aye, captain.” She chuckled. “You’re such a smart ass.” “You love my smart ass.” She didn’t answer, and he regretted the impulse to tease her. He was tempted to beat his head against the nearest wall. He would be lucky if she didn’t abandon him in Hades’s palace. A door creaked, the sound pulling him away from his selfrecriminations. A sliver of light snaked through the passage. He saw Roxana’s outline and moved closer to the door. Lavender skies with fluffy white clouds greeted them. As far as he could see beyond the palace wall, was a sandy black shore. In the far distance, dark landscapes dotted the horizon. He supposed those were the other divisions of Underworld. Gentle waves the color of liquid silver lapped at the beach in a soothing rhythm, making Mason very aware he hadn’t slept in a while. He watched the water, feeling peace invade every crevice of his soul. His eyes grew heavy, and he sagged on his feet. Just a short rest and he’d be fine. A sharp pinch on his ass jerked him out of his stupor. He looked around wildly to see Roxana staring into his face with concern. His heart rate slowed, and he smiled at her softly. Until she slapped him. “What the hell did you do that for?” he shouted, not caring about giving away their position. “Stay awake, Mason. Do not fall asleep here.” Her face was pale and dark circles had appeared beneath her eyes. She looked as though she’d been drained of every ounce of energy she possessed. “You can’t rest here no matter how tired you are. Look.” She pointed to a figure walking along the beach. Staggered, would probably be a better word because their lurching steps weren’t measured. The person fell to their knees a few times before finally crawling. The figure neared, and Mason saw it was a healthy, young

man. After shuffling forward on his hands and knees for several feet, he fell flat on the ground. A loud snore sounded over the waves. Mason didn’t see the problem. The guy was sleeping. He was about to point that out to Roxana when the ground seemed to open right beneath the man. He sank into the sand and disappeared. “This is how Hades keeps people from leaving the palace unescorted. The second you stop moving on the sand, a portal opens straight to the dungeons.” She yawned suddenly, her eyes drowsy. She shook her head. “We have to get across the beach to one of the boats.” Though he was dizzy from exhaustion, Mason looked at the beach. There wasn’t a single boat in sight. “What boats?” “They’re there. We just have to get to the shoreline to see them.” This time it was Mason’s turn to yawn. “Can you conjure anything to keep us awake?” “I wish. All the caffeine in the world wouldn’t help us out here. We’ll have to run for it.” She rubbed her eyes. “Like that poor bastard who was just eaten by the ground?” Yeah, he sounded skeptical, but who wouldn’t be? She chuckled tiredly. “Exactly like that poor bastard, but he was running along the beach. We’re going to take a straight line for the shore. We can make it.” He looked from her sleepy face to the beach. He wasn’t so sure his body would obey his commands to run. His legs felt as though they were filled with lead, and his head swam with the need to rest. “What’ll happen if you’re caught by Hades?” He hoped he imagined the visible tremor that shook her body, but he suspected he hadn’t. “I’ll be punished.” “Punished how?” She shrugged. “I’ll probably be sent to Tartarus for a little while. It wouldn’t be so bad. I could use a break.” Her lopsided smile filled him with a renewed sense of determination. There was no way he would let Roxana be taken to the Underworld dungeons. She’d told him the different levels of the afterlife, and the prison for immortals was the worst of the worst. If she went there, she’d be tortured for however long Hades decided she needed to be punished.

They still had to get to Mount Olympus, and the only way there was over the beach. He took a deep breath and stared into her face. Even as tired and worn down as she looked, he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. He stopped fighting the inevitable and accepted the nature of his feelings for her. He’d fight to the death to protect her. He smiled. He’d play video games against her brother and fight giant horse women for her. He leaned over and pressed a soft, loving kiss to her luscious lips. He grasped her left hand in his right, lacing their fingers together. “Keep up.” **** Mason jerked her off her feet when he bolted from the passage, his long legs sending black sand spraying left and right. She was so exhausted, but his sudden change from sleepy-eyed sex magnet to steely-eyed warrior snapped her awake. She ran behind him as fast as she could, which she had to admit, wasn’t very fast at all. She’d known this would be one of the most difficult parts of their journey, but she’d been arrogant enough to think she could handle it better than Mason. Yeah, she was an asshat. The shoreline seemed too far away to reach. Logically, she knew the water wasn’t as far as it looked, but her body wanted to give up the battle and rest. The sand looked so soft and inviting. She stumbled. “C’mon, baby, don’t start getting lazy on me,” Mason slurred, his full-out run slowing to a jog. “We’re almost there.” Roxana fell to her knees. Her brain screamed at her to get up, but her body would not obey. Mason dragged her for a couple of feet before he turned to look at her. She saw the whites of his eyes as they widened. “Why is it every time I turn around, you’re sitting on your ass, woman?” He pulled her back to her feet and draped her over his shoulder. This was wrong. He was the one in the most danger. She shook her head for all the good it did her. He turned back towards the water, his halting steps pushing his shoulder deeper into her stomach. Now she felt as though she was going to puke and pass out. Not the most pleasant sensation.

“Almost there.” His voice sounded so tired. She felt the fine tremor of his body as he fought his exhaustion. “Just a few more feet, baby.” Tears of frustration burned and fell from Roxana’s eyes. She was supposed to be helping him, protecting him! He stumbled, both of his arms coming up to hold her in place as she teetered on the broad beam of his shoulder. Her heart was in her throat, but she didn’t know if that was from her position or fright. He steadied his feet underneath him and trudged on, although he slowed to a walk. Roxana peered over her shoulder to see the water about ten feet away. They could do it. Well, Mason could do it. She believed in him. She squeaked as he fell to his knees in the sand. Her feet touched the ground. He toppled over to his side, and Roxana tumbled free from his hold. “No, no, no,” she chanted as she got to her knees. His eyes were rolled back, and his mouth gaped open as he snored. She slapped him as hard as she could. He snorted and frowned, his beautiful green eyes blinking at her. “Do you have to keep slapping me?” His words slurred so badly she could barely understand them. Her fear for Mason gave her a second wind as the tears she was too scared and tired to hide, bathed his face. “We have to keep moving. Just a few more feet. The water’s right over there.” He stared into her eyes, a soft light shining in them that made her breath catch. She felt the sand shift beneath her knees. She stroked the side of his face. “Please, Mason. Get up.” As though her encouragement was enough, he pushed to his hands and knees with Roxana supporting his middle. They staggered the remaining feet, their progress slow and laborious. She felt the spell dissipate as soon as they crossed the barrier, the fogginess of exhaustion fading away the further they got from the bubble of magic holding it in place. Roxana fell to her knees as relief coursed through her body. Mason slumped next to her, his face buried in her neck. Without thinking about it, she stroked his broad back, reassuring herself that he was fine, that they’d made it. “You take me to the best places,” he whispered against her skin with a breathless chuckle.

She flopped on her back and laughed until tears poured down her cheeks. She supposed she was allowed a touch of hysteria after everything they’d been through in such a short time. Mason reclined on the ground next to her, his hands soothing as he caressed her cheek. “Sh, baby, it’s over.” That made her laugh harder. “No, it isn’t. We still haven’t made it to the River Styx yet.” He shrugged. “We’ll deal with it when we get there.” She started to reply but was cut short by a buzzing in her cleavage. Her phone. She dug into the corset, ignoring Mason’s avid stare. “Yeah?” “Okay, he’s somewhere on Olympus. That’s all I could find out.” Brice’s voice was welcome like a punch in the face. “I’m heading to our regular rendezvous point. How close are you?” Roxana looked at the shore of the River Lethe. “Um, maybe another twelve hours providing we don’t have more trouble.” “Trouble?” Mason stood, drawing her attention. His hands were on his hips as he stared out over the water. The lavender skies of Underworld suited him. He looked like the young immortal he was soon to be. She shivered. “I might’ve, uh, taken my revenge on Damocles.” Brice was silent for so long she worried she lost the signal. She should’ve known better. “I can’t believe you put yourself at risk to deal with that dickwad! Didn’t I tell you I’d take care of him if you asked? Didn’t I say he wasn’t worth a shit?” She grimaced. He had said all of those things many times over the past two thousand years, but really, sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. “I dealt with him, and we didn’t get caught.” “Yet.” He sighed, the sound carrying over the phone as though he held all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Just get to the rendezvous point by dawn. We’ll drop Mason off to his family and go after Akakios.” Roxana sighed as she watched Mason walk over to the boats. She didn’t really want to turn him over to Zeus. She wanted to keep him, but he wasn’t a puppy. “Fine.”

“Oh, and could you do something about Meg? She keeps following me around and threatening to boil rabbits or some shit. What does that mean anyway?” Rubbing at the sharp pain in her temple, Roxana smiled. “It means she has a crush on you, cuz. Maybe you should watch Fatal Attraction before your next date.” She hung up while he was still sputtering, glad to have the last word. Gods, she wanted to sleep and not because of the bloody capture spell on the beach. She and Mason had been running nonstop since the morning before. She hadn’t even eaten anything in twentyfour hours except for a few candy bars she’d picked up on the way to New Orleans. They needed food, water, and sleep if they were going to try to get past Charon. “I guess since no one ever makes it this far Hades doesn’t have to worry about the boats disappearing?” Mason asked as he jumped into one of the dinghies. “Got it in one.” She sighed and pushed to her feet. “He rarely leaves the palace for anything but a major celebration, and when he does, he takes a portal. The boats are for when he’s escorting other gods to and from the island.” He sat and tested the oars. “How far is it to the river from here?” Roxana gingerly stepped into the boat and sank onto the seat opposite from Mason. “It’s between those cliffs,” she answered, pointing to the black shadows in the far distance. “It’ll take about five or six hours to get there.” “Okay.” He picked up the oars and started to row. His dazzling green eyes studied her carefully. “Get some rest.” She wasn’t going to refuse. Easing to the bow of the boat, she conjured a pillow. “Don’t touch the water at all.” “Why?” “Lethe is the river of forgetfulness. To drink from it is to forget your earthly existence; to touch it is to lose your humanity.” She yawned and closed her eyes. Mason made a thoughtful sound, but didn’t speak. For the first time since waking up next to him the morning before, Roxana felt completely relaxed. The realization startled her out of her doze. Her eyes popped open, and she stared at Mason in horror. His gaze was on the rapidly diminishing beach, so she was able to study

him openly. He’d fought by her side against creatures he was sure were myth, had been healed by her mother and never once questioned her about their tense relationship. He’d carried her to safety, not once, but twice and was now rowing them towards their next battle while she rested. Holy shit, she trusted him! **** “There’s been a breach on Erebus,” Bethany murmured to Hera as she sat through a tedious lunch with her stepdaughters, Artemis and Athena. Her body flashed cold, then hot, but she never lost her smile. “I’m sorry, girls, but I have an urgent matter to deal with back at the office.” She stood and placed several bills on the table. “I’ll see you at the celebration tomorrow night.” She leaned over to kiss the air above their cheeks before stalking out of Don Salvo’s with Bethany on her heels. “How did you find out?” she asked as she got into the waiting limo. Bethany sat in the passenger seat and spun around. “Hades wanted to know why Roxana would bother going through his palace unannounced with a mortal.” Dread colored her blue eyes. “He seemed very put out that his great nephew didn’t want to meet him.” Hera’s hands clenched in her lap, but she allowed no expression to show on her face. Godsdamn Roxana Love! She’d expected the bitch to go through the proper channels to transport the godling. Her minions were even now searching commercial flights for them, and the big bitch had been in their backyard all along. “Call Charon. Tell him something believable. I’ll deal with Hades.” The smug bastard. He no doubt knew exactly what she had planned and would use it against her if she didn’t pay him off in some way. “Yes, my lady.” Bethany turned back around, her hands busy on the QWERTY keyboard of her phone. Hera leaned back against the plush cushions of the limo as it sailed through the streets of Rome. Zeus hadn’t shown up for dinner the night before, citing some problems with the celebration he couldn’t avoid dealing with. She knew he’d been with another one of his women. Anger and jealousy warred within her. She loved her husband even while she hated him with a vengeance. He always promised to remain true to her, but his resolve only lasted as long as he wasn’t tempted by some new mortal woman.

If she didn’t know herself how irresistible he was, she would blame humanity for taking him away from her. But she knew her husband. If it wasn’t the humans, it was the nymphs and sprites, or other goddesses. He was, as the humans would say it, a man-whore. The only way to teach him a lesson was through his halfmortal children and grandchildren. For some reason, he adored them whether they deserved it or not. She decided it was time to send a message to Roxana. Humans laughed and argued beyond the windows of limo as Hera dialed Xychxana. “Contact Angelia. I want Roxana to know we have her brother and what’ll happen if she doesn’t turn the godling over to us.” “How would you like me to ensssure she underssstandsss the messssage?” Hera tapped her fingers on her knee as she thought. “Send her something personal of his. Nothing that won’t heal though.” The last thing she needed was to accelerate Akakios’s prophecy. “Yesss, missstress.” Hera hung up the phone and frowned out the window. “My lady? Charon said he will intercept them.” “Very good.” They wouldn’t be getting away this time. “I want to stop at Via Condotti. I’ll need something to wear to the party tomorrow night.” “Yes, my lady.” Bethany leaned over and pressed a hand to the chauffer’s temple. The mute giant nodded and turned the limo in the direction of the shopping district. Hera relaxed. Things would go according to plan. Charon was a simple creature. Ferryman of the River Styx, he did as he was told and never asked questions. It was a pity he was stuck in the Underworld, a minion with his strength and lack of morals would be useful. A small smile teased her lips. If Charon couldn’t rein Roxana in, the threat to her brother would.

Chapter Fourteen Mason looked over his shoulder as he rowed. His entire body hurt, but he couldn’t stop. Their time was running out. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t make it to his grandfather’s temple before the required date, but it seemed kind of idiotic not to jump when a god told you to. He glanced at Roxana curled up in the bow of the dinghy. The faint shadows under her eyes gave testament to how tired she was. Those circles were enough to keep him rowing no matter how exhausted he felt. She’d done so much for him since this began, he felt like deadweight. The differences between them were glaringly obvious. At least until dear ole grandpa gets a hold of me. And that was another worry. What exactly was Zeus going to do to him? Roxana had mentioned some beings were raised from mortal status. Would he be one of them? What would happen after that? Would he be able to conjure weapons and items like Roxana? What the hell did godlings do, anyway? These were only a few of the questions on his mind as he rowed endlessly. Then there was the matter of how he was going to convince Roxana to stay with him after whatever happened. He’d seen the tenderness in her face on the beach, but that had been under extenuating circumstances. It would take a whole lot more to get her to admit she cared when she wasn’t scared they were going to die. He grinned. He could always hold her to that look. It would drive her insane, and he did love the way his woman looked when she was pissed off. “What are you grinning at?” she asked in a husky voice. Mason gave a guilty start and glanced down. Roxana frowned at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Uh, nothing.” He felt blush burning up his face. There went that suspicious look again, but she said nothing. Instead, she sat up and glanced behind him. “The cliffs are coming up.” Her gaze shifted to look back at him. “You’re a fast rower.” He shrugged, though he fought the urge to puff out his chest. “Not like there was much else to do.” She snorted. “True. Why don’t you take a break? You’ll need your strength when we get to Charon’s beach.”

It seemed wrong, but she was right. Of course. So far she’d been right about everything. It was enough to give a man a complex. Roxana stood and walked over to him, squeezing into the seat beside him. He savored the feeling of her heat pressed against him. Her elbow caught his ribs, and he reluctantly gave the oars over to her. Mason stood, grabbing the sides of the boat as it rocked. Yeah, the whole forgetfulness thing would not be cool right now. He flopped down in the space Roxana had abandoned with a groan. He was so tired, but he wasn’t ready to rest just yet. He had a lot on his mind, most of it all about Roxana. “Was Damocles always like that?” Because if he was, then he wasn’t too vain to think Roxana’s tastes had definitely improved. She didn’t answer at first, her body moving like a well-oiled machine as she rowed. He couldn’t help but admire the subtle flex of her muscles and the light sheen of sweat on her skin. She was so hot. His groin throbbed. “He used to take better care of himself. He let himself go in the last two thousand years,” she said grudgingly. “I was the one who found and escorted him to the company. He’s not actually part of the family group, but one of the executives figured he was worth promoting.” She shrugged off-handedly. “We grew close. He was inducted and decided he was better than I was.” Since that was exactly what she expected Mason to do, he glared at her. He wanted to argue with her, but he was too tired. The rowing, the running, the near-death experiences all caught up to him the minute his body was supine. The quiet shushing of the oars in the water and the subtle scent of Roxana on the air relaxed him as nothing else could. **** She was glad he slept. He would keep asking those damn embarrassing, intrusive questions, and she’d feel honor bound to answer them. He didn’t need to know how stupid she’d been with Damocles. Stupid because she knew now what she thought she’d felt for the hero had been nothing more than infatuation. It had nothing on the feeling she had for Mason. And that scared the hell out of her. So she rowed and tried not to think about Mason and the look in his eyes on the beach. It was impossible. The man turned her inside out and upside down. He told her he loved her in a roundabout way and then looked at her as if she were his whole world. Which was

ridiculous. They hadn’t known each other long enough for that. She and Damocles had had five weeks together; in those days walking had been the main mode of transportation for poor Enforcers. How could Mason possibly care for her as anything more than a friend in little over thirty hours? Shimmering light to her left caught her eye. Shit. She looked behind her. The cliffs were still too far away. She glanced down at Mason. He was sound asleep. Dammit! She let the oars sit in their moorings and conjured her sword. Shimmering lights in the middle of Underworld could mean a curious sprite, a restless spirit, or something else. She wouldn’t take any chances with Mason. She crouched on her seat and waited for the being to manifest. The form solidified and she slumped. Angelia, spirit of messages, tidings, and proclamations, floated over the water, her face solemn and disturbed. She was a little bitty thing as most personified spirits were. Her raven black hair floated on the breeze that molded her chiton to her petite body. Soulful silver eyes locked on Roxana’s face. “Roxana Melanos, I have been sent with a message for you from Xychxana of the Lamias. She bids you to abandon your quest. To ensure your cooperation, she sends you a gift.” Though Angelia’s mouth never moved, her words rang clear as a bell in Roxana’s mind. She watched with sinking dread as a pouch appeared in the air between them. With a soft motion of her hand, Angelia sent the velvet pouch floating to Roxana. Though everything in her screamed not to accept the “gift”, Roxana plucked it out of the air and cradled it in her hands. It was warm. Her stomach fluttered as she freed the ribbon holding it closed. She glanced back at Angelia who watched, her face etched with sorrow. The cloth fell open with a soft sigh. Roxana looked back down at her hands and stared. At first she wasn’t sure what to make of it. It looked like wet leather. She frowned, not understanding until she turned it over. It was the color of bronze on the opposite side. The same shade as her skin, though it wasn’t. The cluster of three beauty marks was as familiar as her own skin however, and terrible rage and pain swelled inside her. Akakios.

Her eyes glared hateful daggers at Angelia, who if anything, looked more pained. “I am a messenger, Roxana. I have no quarrel with you or your enemies. They give you until you arrive at the River Styx to make your decision.” She paused, distress flickering on her ethereal face. “May the gods bless you, Roxana Melanos. Your choices are not easy ones to make.” Her gaze went to Mason and back to Roxana meaningfully. The spirit disappeared, leaving Roxana with a perfect square of her brother’s skin in her lap and the godling everyone wanted for one reason or another sleeping next to her. Sometimes it just didn’t pay to wake up. **** “Can you swim?” Mason rubbed his eyes and blinked up at Roxana. “Huh?” She sighed, her face strained and tired. “I asked if you could swim.” He sat up with a wince at the aches in his back from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. His eyes roamed over their surroundings. Black cliffs loomed overhead, their faces as smooth as glass. Roxana rowed on a river with the color and consistency of oil. It looked disgusting, and he prayed they weren’t going to have to swim for it. “What’s wrong? Do we have a leak?” He studied the boat which seemed in perfect condition. “No. Just answer the question!” “Yes! I hate it when you don’t tell me what’s going on, dammit.” He pushed to his feet. He had had enough of her shit. “Look, you can keep pushing at me, but you and I are going to come to a little understanding.” “Hold your breath.” “What—” He barely had time to grab air before the woman he loved knocked him head over ass into the river. His skin crawled as the sensation of the thick, oily substance that passed as water coated his body. It was dense, so he didn’t sink far, but that was only a small blessing. It was nearly impossible to tread the “water”, but he tried. The river water fought his strokes. He didn’t even attempt to open his eyes because he doubted he’d be able to see anyway. He didn’t feel a current, didn’t have a sense there was any wild life in the

water, but who cared? He was going to die down here. Roxana’s face flashed across his mind. No, he wasn’t dying until he’d beat her within an inch of her life. Renewed energy filled him. His lungs burned as he fought his way back to the surface. He finally broke above the water and hands grabbed him beneath the arms, hauling him back into the boat. He slumped on the floor of the boat, gasping. She was trying to kill him because he’d said he loved her. That had to be it. The only other explanation he could think of was that she really was insane. “Relax, Mason, you’re fine.” “Not fine. Dying.” She chuckled, though it sounded forced. “Unfortunately, you’ll live.” Unfortunately? He pushed himself up to glare at her. “What is your problem?” She returned to her seat and grabbed the oars again. “I have too many to name to answer that.” “I’m not joking, Roxana. You push and push until I want to either beat you or fuck you senseless.” Her eyes glowed with her temper. “Oh yeah? I want to see you try.” She bared her teeth at him. “I’m a woman on the edge! I would happily dump you in this river and leave your ass here.” Well that hurt. He knew she wouldn’t. Roxana’s honor meant too much to her to leave him behind when she had a job to do. The only problem was he wanted to be more than a job to her. He wanted to be her everything. Okay, so beating her was out of the equation. That only left one option. He’d have to fuck her senseless. Calm now that he had a plan, Mason looked around. He needed to clean up. No way was he touching her with this shit on his body. There was a chance it might infect her with something. Of course there was no clean water anywhere. Then he remembered the wipes Roxana had conjured when she handled Damocles’s tackle. “You have more of those wet wipes?” **** She frowned at him. How could he go from spitting mad to sounding like a reasonable adult? He had to be the most baffling man she’d ever met. He sat across from her, his skin stained deep brown by the water. Just seconds ago he’d been mad enough to threaten her

with bodily harm, and now he wanted wet wipes. She’d never understand him. Pausing in mid-stroke, she conjured a whole container of her favorite wet wipes. They were moisturizing, anti-bacterial, and smelled like lavender. She should really buy stock in the company since she bought them by the pallet. Roxana tossed the container to Mason and pulled harder on the oars. He popped open the top and tugged several sheets free at once. “Why did you toss me in the river?” he asked, his tone even and mild as he used the wipes on his face. “You never heard the story about Achilles?” “Remind me.” His hand swiped over his neck. He even went so far as to clean every whorl of his ear. She licked her lips. Mason tossed those wipes to the side and grabbed more, concentrating on his torso and arms. Gleaming flesh appeared beneath the slow motions. She clenched her thighs together. There was something she was supposed to be doing, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his chest. “Roxana?” She looked into his eyes blankly. He smiled. “Achilles?” Roxana blinked and cleared her throat. Right, the story of Achilles, the ass. She tore her eyes away from Mason’s body and stared over his shoulder. That was safe. “When Achilles was born, his mother wanted to make him immortal. She took him to the River Styx and dipped him into the water head first as the water of the river would make him invulnerable to physical harm.” She paused to give him a significant look and almost lost her place in the story because he was undoing his jeans. Her mouth watered. Mason didn’t seem to care about her distraction because he frowned at her. “Oh, right, I remember now. She held him by his heels to put him in the water, and because of that, his heels were his weakness.” He smiled, and it should have been illegal for him to look so sexy. “So you threw me in the river to make me invincible? That’s so sweet.” She rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. “You’re not invincible. It’ll just be a little harder to kill you. Weapons won’t be able to find their mark, but that doesn’t mean someone can’t strangle you to death.” Like she was tempted to do.

“That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll beat up anyone who wants to do me harm.” Humor colored his tone. The bastard. He swiped the towelette over his lower abdomen. Roxana bit her lip to hold back her groan. Oh gods, he was too much! His head came up, and his eyes snagged her gaze. Some emotion she couldn’t interpret filled his beautiful green eyes before he lowered his eyelashes. He crawled over to her with the wet wipes and handed them to her. Numb, Roxana took the box. He was close enough to touch, and her hands itched with the need to stroke him. Instead, she stared at him and tried to ignore the wetness seeping through her panties. She was so screwed. “Wipe off my back? The invincibility water itches like a mother.” The smile he gave her was sweet, almost shy. It made her want to throw him on the bottom of the boat and defile him. He turned around, presenting his back to her. Roxana let go of the oars and wiped her hands on her pants. She wanted to give him a tongue bath. His back was just as sexy as the front of his body, the old scars doing nothing to detract from his gorgeousness. Concentrate on something else. Do not let this man get to you. He’ll forget you the second he’s in the corporate offices and you’re back in the field. Right. Concentrate on something else. She cleared her throat and started wiping away the oily residue from the river. “These are some vicious scars for a human.” The movement of the muscles in his back and shoulders mesmerized her as he shrugged. “I got them trying to prove myself to my gang when I was young and stupid.” She hadn’t been expecting to hear that, and Roxana frowned, tracing the scars with her fingertip. One long scar ran the length of his spine. “What was this one from?” “I had to prove I had backbone.” He laughed bitterly. “They held me down and dragged a knife down my spine. If I moved, I was paralyzed. If I didn’t move, I had the nerves to hang with them.” Her fingers wandered to another scar over the back of his shoulders. They were uniform in size and looked like lettering. “Was this a tattoo?” He swallowed audibly and nodded. “Uh-huh. Got the tats after the initiation to show I was one of them.”

Roxana enjoyed the way he shivered under her fingers as she traced out the scarring. V-I-P-E-R-S. “Vipers? That was the name of the gang?” She tried not to laugh. The tips of his ears turned red. “Yeah. It seemed cool when I was fourteen.” He shrugged. She returned her attention to cleaning his skin, making sure to touch every inch of his back. Most of it was already free of residue, but she wasn’t about to give up the perfect excuse to touch him. “When did you get out?” “I was almost eighteen when we got into a fight with another gang.” He laughed. “We weren’t really gangs, you know? Just a bunch of shithead kids running around together. Anyway, we fought with this other group. I almost killed the man I was fighting. He was a big guy, a lot bigger than me and was considered the leader of that gang.” He was silent for so long Roxana thought he wasn’t going to continue. “I wasn’t even really into the fight. I’d moved on from needing to prove myself by then, but I couldn’t leave my boys. So I fought. I punched the guy once and put him into a coma.” Roxana frowned. Mason was a lot stronger than normal humans. He was the son of Heracles; it was to be expected. But he’d been just a kid when that strength had been tested. “Had you hurt anyone before?” His big shoulders hunched. That was answer enough for Roxana. Her heart hurt for him. He wasn’t just a big, strong man. He was a big, strong man with a big heart and a sensitive soul. “Was that why you learned Tai Chi? To learn control?” Because he had it in spades. He could’ve hurt her at any point during their short acquaintance, but he hadn’t. His ears turned redder. “Yeah. I thought it might help. And it does. Usually.” He cleared his throat. “I, uh, learned when I was much younger that I had to be careful with those my size or smaller. I broke a few bones just playing with other kids, and I always felt guilty for it even though it was unintentional.” He sighed. “Is my back done yet?” Roxana looked at her hand holding the wet wipe against the base of his spine. “Uh, yeah.” “Good.” He pulled away from her. She hid her disappointment. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn’t touchy feely with anyone but Aki. Mason was going to go his own way once they reached the corporate offices. Getting to

know him would only amplify the pain when he acted true to the executives’ nature. She dropped the wipe on the floor of the boat and grabbed the oars again. Some voice in her head told her that ignoring Mason’s revelations would only hurt him more, and for some reason hurting him wasn’t acceptable. Well, not this kind of hurt, at least. She still wanted to kick his ass for making her care for him. Gods, she was so screwed. She cleared her throat and looked up. “You know, you’re not the only one who—” Mason had shed his jeans. All thoughts of comfort and empathy were buried beneath an avalanche of desire. His cock was hard and ready as he leaned back in the bow of the boat. The wet wipe in his hand cleansed his cock and balls with a slowness she found both fascinating and torturous. Her mouth watered; her pussy flooded; and her nipples stood at attention. “Do you like what you see?” Her living wet dream’s voice was deep, husky, and wanting. Like the stupid bitch she was, Roxana nodded. She even spoke. “Yes.” His smile was pure sin. “That’s good.” He moved the wet wipe away from his cock and stroked it over his strong thighs. Roxana wanted to bite those thick muscles, nibble her way up to his weeping cock. “I’ve been thinking, you know, after my little life-threatening dip in the water. I haven’t thanked you for dunking me in the pool of immortality.” Roxana giggled. Giggled! Her face felt like it was on fire, she blushed so hard. She cleared her throat. She shouldn’t be laughing at his bad jokes, and she shouldn’t be charmed by him, but she was. Gods, she was! “So, I figure I know the perfect way to thank you.” He crawled back to her, this time, his body gloriously bare under her avid gaze. “Um. I-I need to row,” she whimpered as his big hands wrapped around her ankles. “That’s fine.” He unlaced her boots and slipped them off her feet. “I just need the use of part of your body.” Roxana blinked down at the man kneeling in front of her, not able to offer a word of protest as he reached up to undo her pants

because her mind was completely blank. Before she knew it, she was bare assed in the boat with Mason wedged between her legs. The look in his eyes when he glanced up at her was devilish and hungry. “Don’t mind me.” His gaze flicked down and stayed on her swollen flesh. She thought he whispered, “Thank you, God,” but she couldn’t be sure since the blood rushed through her ears, blocking all sound.

Chapter Fifteen Mason heard the oars fall loose in their moorings, but couldn’t be bothered by unimportant details. Not when he had Roxana’s sweet flesh parted beneath his tongue. She was already wet, and the heady scent of her arousal made his head swim. He braced his hands on either side of her legs so she only felt his tongue as he delved between her slick folds. A moan crawled up his throat at his first taste. It had only been one day, but he realized he was starved for the taste of his spicy sweet Roxana. She made a soft huffing sound that dragged his eyes from the petals of her body to her face. She’d leaned back slightly, her hands braced on either side of the dinghy, her eyes closed as she enjoyed his attentions. She still wore her corset top; there was something so erotic about the sight of her somewhat modestly clothed at the top while her pussy was bared to his eyes and mouth, Mason thought he might come from the sight. Instead, he lapped at her entrance, plunging his tongue inside her as far as he could. His sweet girl flooded his mouth with her moisture, which he eagerly lapped up. He kept his eyes on her, watching every nuance of her pleasure. Trailing his tongue up her folds to swirl around the swollen bud of her clit made her chest heave with the effort of dragging in air. He suckled on that bud lightly, not wanting her to come just yet and was rewarded with her breathless curses. His body ached for release, but he needed to show Roxana he wasn’t like that bastard, Damocles. He would give her pleasure and take none for his own. He released her clit and gave it a quick kiss. “Thank you, Roxana.” Her breath was ragged and loud. “Wh-What?” Mason lapped at her swollen lips, giving each side equal attention. “Thank you.” He suckled at her clit again. “Thank you.” He teased her slick channel with the tip of his tongue. “Thank you, beautiful woman.” “Oh gods, shut up!” He laughed against her core, rejoicing at the sound of her panting moans. Her thighs quivered on either side of him. Her hips rocked against his face as he fucked her with his tongue. His woman wanted to come, and she would. Not yet though.

“I love the way you taste.” He flicked his tongue over her clit in a rhythm that was both fast and unsatisfying. “I could eat you up.” Something creaked. A quick glance to the side showed her hands had dug into the wood of the dinghy so much that it threatened to buckle under her grip. Good, she was desperate. He swirled his tongue around her clit in slow sweeping motions that had her hips rising to meet him. Removing one of his hands from the bench, he teased her entrance with the tip of his finger, coating the digit with her cream. She was so slick now, she could take him in one hard thrust, but this was for her. For Roxana. “Please, please, please, oh please.” Her moaning was heartfelt and frantic, so Mason decided to give her what she wanted. He pulled back to watch his finger slide into the tight clasp of her body. Her muscles parted for him before clamping on him. It was so hot. And beautiful. His heart ached with love and lust for her. Her breath hitched, and she tilted her hips as though she needed more. He withdrew his finger, ignoring her groan of disappointment and thrust back in with two fingers. Her flesh stretched to accommodate him, and he hissed out a curse. Tearing his eyes away from the erotic sight, Mason looked up again. She stared down, her eyes heavy and transfixed on his hand. Her lush lips parted as she fought for air which escaped on soft moans. The sounds of his fingers slipping in and out of her passage were loud, accompanied only by the sound of her pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed with color, her hair a wild mane of scarlet around her face. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Roxana lost in the throes of passion. With the taste of her on his tongue, Mason watched her carefully as he brought his thumb into play, pressing it against her clit. Her whole body jerked as though she’d been shocked. Her head went back, and her neck strained on a silent scream as her body rippled into an explosive orgasm. Mason kept up the pace of his fingers and thumb, prolonging her orgasm until his hand was drenched, and Roxana wilted on the seat. He replaced his hand with his mouth, sampling the wetness of her climax. Her channel fluttered around his tongue. “No, please, no more,” she cried out. It was a plea he ignored as he set his tongue on her clit and suckled. Her hands plunged into his hair. He wasn’t sure if she meant

to pull him away or press him closer, and he didn’t care. He was going to make her come again and again until she realized she belonged to him, and nothing would ever change that. **** She was going to die of pleasure. It would be a wonderful way to go, but her stomach ached with the force of her climaxes and tensed as another prepared to roar through her. She didn’t know what had gotten into Mason, but he was like the Energizer bunny, working her to fever pitch and throwing her over the edge again and again. Her body was slick with sweat, her thighs and seat coated with dampness from her orgasms. She’d long ago given up trying to sit. She sprawled on the bottom of the boat, her hips propped up on the seat as Mason leaned over to taste her. Roxana was pretty sure she swooned at one point. She couldn’t be certain. That might’ve been after the third or fourth orgasm, but at this point who was counting? Mason nibbled on her clit, and warmth invaded her lower body once again. “One more, baby, just one more, and I’ll know I thanked you properly.” He dropped his mouth back to her body, his fingers invading her pussy again. Roxana moaned tiredly, opening her eyes to peek up at him. All she could see was the top half of his face as his mouth was busy. She squirmed on her prop, more from the sight of the pleasure in his green eyes than from what he was doing to her. His face, what she could see of it, practically glowed with his joy. His long fingers curled in her channel and rubbed that spot. She erupted again, her eyes sliding shut as her hoarse cries bounced off the cliffs surrounding them. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes from the force of her orgasm. Mason purred against her. He removed his fingers from her still quaking center and lapped up her moisture. He seemed to love tasting her. Gods knew she couldn’t complain about that. He pressed a soft kiss to her thighs, sighing against her skin. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that, of you.” It was a struggle to open her eyes, and she almost gave up. But there was something in his voice that demanded her attention. Dragging up her heavy eyelids, she saw Mason with his head resting against her leg. A soft smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. His

lips were puffy and moist from his enthusiastic oral loving, and stupidly enough, her body warmed again. But it was the look in his eyes, the affection in his gaze that had her breath catching. Her brain analyzed while her heart thumped with want. She wanted to believe what he told her, but experience had taught her words were worth shit. His actions though, showed he felt something for her. But there was still a chance he’d reject her. He must’ve read that doubt in her eyes because his face darkened with anger. His mouth opened. “Yoo-hoo! Roxana!” A woman’s voice pierced the quiet surrounding them and bounced off the cliffs. Roxana felt the blood seep from her face. “Shit!” She jackknifed into a seated position, her leg bouncing off Mason’s head. “My pants, where are my pants?” It was stupid to be so panicked. She and Mason were adults, and what they did was their business, but when that screeching shout sounded again, she lost it. Her hands groped around Mason’s body. She couldn’t see where her clothes had gone. She found his jeans and threw them in his face. “Get dressed. Now!” she shouted when it looked as though he would argue. “And find my pants!” He growled something under his breath, but she didn’t pay attention. At least sitting on the bottom of the dinghy meant no one could see her bare ass, but it still wasn’t a lot of cover. The three bitches rowing towards them had evil, shit-eating grins on their faces that made her fist ache with the need to punch them. “Here.” Mason tossed her pants in her face before pulling his own on. His expression was downright hostile, and Roxana spared a minute to regret that she hurt him, but only a minute because the Furies were bearing down on them. “Well, hello,” Allie sang, her blue eyes devouring Mason’s bare torso. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, until Meg pushed her out of the way. Teensy rowed without saying anything, but the look on her face told Roxana she definitely enjoyed the eye candy. “Hey, aren’t those the women from my bar?” Mason asked, his eyebrows meeting in a V over his nose. Roxana grunted as she squirmed into her pants while sitting down. It was nearly impossible to do with wet thighs, but she

managed it. If she had another set of flexi-armor in her armory, she’d have conjured them, but these were all she had, and there was no way she was wearing the chainmail when she rowed. “We’re here to pick him up just like you told us!” Meg shouted. “Yeah, those are the Furies. Hand me my boots.” One sailed at her head, but she caught it before it could connect. She scowled at the scowling man at the other end of the boat. “I said ‘hand it’ not ‘throw it’.” He didn’t look the least bit troubled. “You told them to pick me up? What am I? Five years old?” Roxana pulled on one boot and laced it tight. “They’re just gonna take you to the temple for me.” She ducked as her boot flew over her head. “Dammit, what is your problem?” He snarled at her. Roxana was so taken aback by his anger she stared at him in stunned fascination. A vein pulsed in his forehead. Damned if he didn’t look like Zeus when he was really mad. “My problem is you don’t trust me with information until it’s absolutely necessary. My problem is you keep pushing me away. My problem is you treat me like your buddy Damocles when I’ve done everything I can to prove I’m nothing like him.” He glared at her, his green eyes glittering with anger, hurt, and frustration. “But it isn’t my problem that’s bothering me. No, it’s your problem, Roxana.” Stung, she retorted, “I don’t have a problem!” His nostrils flared, and damn but that was a sexy sight. “Your problem is you’d rather pretend to be some tough bitch who doesn’t need anyone when you’re nothing more than a scared little girl. You’re so worried about people hurting you that you don’t bother letting anyone close.” He stood in the boat. “I’ve done everything I can think of to show you how much I love you, but I can’t stand a coward.” **** He looked over at the boat coming towards them and the three women in it who eyed him curiously. His chest hurt so much, he kind of worried he might be having a heart attack, but no, it was a regular heartbreak. Roxana had made a major decision about him without bothering to tell him, as though he was some kind of helpless kid. His hands shook as anger washed through him. He needed to get away from her.

The other boat neared, and Mason prepared to jump. He couldn’t look at Roxana again, or she’d see how hurt he was. He’d thought after everything they’d been through, she trusted him enough to at least tell him ahead of time she was sending him on with someone else. His hands clenched at his sides. The woman rowing the other boat stopped once they were a few feet away, her black hair falling around her pretty face as she studied first Mason, then Roxana. “You have any trouble after you called?” Mason sensed Roxana moving into the seat and shifted away. He wouldn’t take the chance of touching her because he’d either strangle her, or beg her to keep him with her. **** “No, no trouble. I need you to get Mason out of here while I distract Charon.” Roxana peeked at his face which could’ve been hewn from rock, it was so hard. She stifled a sigh. “The messenger said I had to abandon my quest, but she didn’t say how.” She shared a smile with Teensy, but it was a weak attempt. “Meet up with me and Brice at my place on this side.” Allie nodded, her gaze turned inward. “We’ll hang back while you deal with Charon. Do you still have that bronze dress you wore for the last company party?” Roxana frowned and nodded. “Of course I do. It’s vintage Dior.” What, were they nuts? She might be stupid when it came to other people, but she knew the value of clothes. “Good. Charon really liked that gown.” Meg jumped up, her fists sitting on her hips. “He did not. He said her ass had gotten fatter.” Teensy rolled her eyes. “No, Caeros said that, and only because you were about to throw a hissy fit because he was checking her out instead of you, and he wanted to get in someone’s panties that night.” Jealousy flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder. “Shows what you know. I wasn’t wearing panties.” Roxana risked a quick look at Mason who stared at the Furies with brimming horror and disbelief. Yeah, her friends had that affect on people. He glanced at Roxana, and they shared a quick smile before his grin died. His eyes were cold when he looked away from her again.

She stifled a sigh. She’d done what she needed to do to protect both Mason and Aki. She’d do it again if she had to, but maybe next time she’d tell Mason ahead of time. She winced. Yeah, that hadn’t been well done of her. “So, any other last minute instructions before you march into war, Roxy?” Teensy asked, sharing a commiserating look with her. This time she did sigh. She wanted to turn back the clock by thirty minutes and sink back into the pleasure Mason had given her, the sweetness of his attentions. She shook her head at Teensy. “No, nothing else.” “Okay then, c’mon over, godling,” Teensy told Mason as she maneuvered their boat right next to the dinghy. Once they were in place, Mason stood and stepped into the other boat as though he couldn’t wait to get away from Roxana. Meg fluttered her eyelashes at him and tugged him onto the seat with her. “I’m Megaera.” She placed her hand on his bare chest, her eyelashes fluttering a mile a minute. Roxana’s fisted her hands on her lap as she battled the urge to throw Meg’s whorish ass into the river for touching her man. No, Mason wasn’t her man. He’d made his disgust of her clear enough. She cleared her throat to ease the tightness. She took up the oars and prepared to row into battle with Charon. It would help ease some of her anger at herself. “Don’t forget the dress,” Allie called out as Teensy shoved off. Roxana rolled her eyes because if there was anything Charon was, it wasn’t stupid. He’d know why she was here even if Hera and her goons hadn’t told him. “I’m not wearing my Dior gown out here and letting it get ruined.” The bitch flapped a dismissing hand at her. “Then wear something similar. Trust me on this.” “Fine!” She conjured one of her favorite Adolfo gowns. Circa 1963, it was a two-toned chiffon number with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt. The gold and bronze colors were striking with her hair, and when she peeked at Mason, she knew she looked good. Even as pissed off as he was, his eyes held reluctant admiration. She sat with her skirts above her knees. This dress might not be as precious as her Dior gown, but there was no way in hell she was going to tear it. If Charon even looked at her funny, she’d put her

flexi-armor back on. She shot the Furies a warning glare. They were responsible for Mason until she could catch up with them. Her eyes drifted over to the man in question and found him staring out over the river. Roxana shook her head and picked up her oars. She was such an idiot. **** Charon picked at his guitar. He was so bored. And he was so broke. Bored and broke wasn’t something Charon enjoyed, especially the broke part. It used to be he was only bored. He’d never been rich, but he’d at least have a little blunt to make life bearable. Now though, humans didn’t believe in paying for their deceased’s way into the underworld, and on top of that, corporate downsizing meant the dead went straight to Hades. He snorted. No one cared that he waited for the few souls who hadn’t gotten the One-God Memo to come waltzing through his door. They rarely did which meant he didn’t get a regular paycheck. He sighed and plucked out the opening notes to “Layla”. His band wasn’t taking off as fast as he’d hoped. The other guys weren’t as into it as he was. Of course, they were executives with money rolling in daily. The bastards. He sneered and hit another bad note. “Gods, haven’t you learned to play that thing yet?” a loud female voice interrupted his musings. Startled, he looked up to see a vision in gold and bronze stalking towards him. A grin broke out. It looked like he wouldn’t be bored much longer.

Chapter Sixteen Roxana endured a bone-crushing hug from Charon as long as she could, which was about two seconds. She pushed him away and glared into his handsome face. “I swear you’ve been trying to learn to play an instrument for the three thousand some-odd years I’ve known you. Don’t you have any natural ability?” He pouted. It was a look that usually had the sprites swooning, but only made Roxana want to box his ears. Now. She’d done her share of swooning at one time. He was much older than she was, but looked years younger. His wheat colored hair fell below his ears in a shaggy cut that was stylish and becoming to his strong features. He had Robert Redford good looks and a Vin Diesel body. At one time, she’d loved him with all the fervor of a Beatles fan. He flashed his lethal dimple at her, making her grin. Thank the gods she’d grown up. “Baby, you used to love it when I’d play for you,” he said in a voice that dripped sex. “Only because it made me happy to watch Hades run for cover every time your instruments came out.” She chuckled. Charon waggled his eyebrows at her. “You want to see my other instrument?” She laughed in his face. “Sorry, I don’t have time for all that.” He sighed. “You never visit me anymore.” He stepped back and eyed her dress with lust. “I do like your dresses, Roxy. Wanna fuck?” The bulge in his jeans had her rolling her eyes. “You’re a man-whore, Charon. I don’t do man whores, remember? We had this discussion when I was eighteen.” “And what a sweet eighteen you were!” He dissolved his instrument and crossed his arms over his chest. His smile faded, and a serious light entered his quicksilver eyes. “Now, I know you’re not here to visit me. What’s the deal?” Roxana looked around Charon’s beach. He’d been here for thousands of years, yet he never kept much in the way of comforts. There was no need for a building since Erebus’s climate remained the same year in, year out. There was no true sun to blister the ground, no clouds to make rain, nothing that would require an abode. She would’ve had one built anyway, but Charon didn’t have access to funds like most of the other company’s employees.

He’d bought a futon at some point, but that was the only piece of furniture she saw. Amps, wires, soundboards, and every other piece of equipment needed to rock out filled the space he claimed as his own. “I’m guessing you finally decided to start a band?” She picked her way across the beach to sit on the futon. When she turned back to him, he watched her warily before shrugging. “Yeah, but those guys don’t take it seriously.” He approached her with caution. “You, um, want something to drink?” “Yes, please.” She hadn’t had anything to drink in hours. “Beer if you have it.” She flopped on her back on the futon and stared up at the sky. Thoughts of Mason threatened to distract her from what she was supposed to be doing. She sighed. Charon sat next to her and handed a bottle of Killian’s over to her. He reclined next to her on his side, staring down at her. He really was cute, and she didn’t regret losing her virginity to him all those years ago, but she hadn’t done anything stupid like fall in love with him during their brief affair. Unlike – No, she was not in love with anyone. “Well? Are you gonna tell me, or do I need to torture it out of you?” His eyes lingered on her chest, which told her exactly how he planned to do that. Remembering what Mason had done to her in the dinghy not an hour before, Roxana blushed when she realized her nipples were stiff under her dress. She groaned when Charon’s face went from curious to hungry. “I’m not here for that.” He shifted a little closer. “Damn. And I’m horny, too.” He leaned closer and kissed her softly on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Roxy. So were you planning to tell me why you’re trying to sneak a godling through my territory, or were you going to seduce me into not noticing?” He frowned, though there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I vote for seduction.” “Oh, shut up.” He threw himself on his back, his shirt and jeans dissolving to leave him in nothing but a pair of black boxers. “Go ahead. Do your worst!” Roxana laughed loudly and punched him in the arm. “You’re an idiot.”

“But I got you to laugh.” He wrapped one big arm around her and pulled her close. “Did you really glue Damocles’s dick to his stomach?” Roxana blushed against his chest, but laughed again anyway. “Yeah, he deserved it.” “That tour group held about five mortals Hades was hoping to promote into the company.” His voice was stern, but she felt his chest shaking with his laughter. “They’re worried it was some kind of initiation hazing.” “Oops.” He laughed, hugging her close. “I missed you, Roxy! And Aki? How’s he?” She sobered quickly. “The lamias have him.” Charon stilled. “What?” She sat up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, Hera wants my godling and had Aki kidnapped so I’d drop the case.” A rainbow of colors flared in Charon’s silver eyes as he pushed to his feet. “That bitch.” Confused, Roxana frowned up at him. “Well, the rest of us always knew she was a bitch, but you’ve never said anything about it before.” He ran a hand through his hair and paced in front of her. “Her assistant contacted me earlier in the day and said you were smuggling a mortal through Erebus to test our security. I was supposed to stop you and kill the mortal.” He spun around to catch the Furies creeping up the beach and Mason glaring at Roxana as though she’d pissed in his cereal. Charon frowned at them, his head tilted to the side. “That’s no regular mortal, that’s Zeus’s grand-spawn!” Roxana nodded. “Yes. Wait, she was going to get you to do her dirty work?” She was astounded. Charon, in spite of being the ferryman, was fair and just in direct contradiction to every myth about him. “What about Hades? Does he know what she planned?” Charon frowned and conjured his phone as well as his clothes. “I’m about to tell him. This shit has gone too far now.” She sat stunned as Charon dialed Hades’s number. He greeted his sisters, the Furies, cordially and glared at Mason who looked as though he wanted to tear off Charon’s head. Roxana sent Mason a

censorious glance he completely ignored. What was he pissed about now? **** He was going to kill the blond bastard. He’d watched as he rolled all over Roxana, leered at her, made her laugh, and hugged her. Intense jealousy and possessiveness roared through Mason like a Mack truck. He didn’t care who Charon was. Mason turned his glare on his woman who looked downright edible in the floaty dress thing. She’d worn it for the ferryman, but hadn’t for him. That pissed him off. She frowned at him. He crooked his finger at her, ignoring the amused looks from the Furies. They were crazier than Roxana was, and that was saying a lot. “What?” she demanded from the bastard’s bed. “Get over here. Now.” She huffed, but she got off the bed and stomped over to him. When she was close enough, he snagged her by the waist and tucked her into his side. He shot Charon a triumphant glare. The ferryman, still on the phone, raised an eyebrow at Mason, but continued his conversation. “What’s your problem?” Roxana asked him in an angry whisper. Mason looked down at her and felt love swell in his chest. She was a pain in the ass, but she was his pain in the ass. “Just making sure Goldilocks knows the situation.” He enjoyed the outrage on her face. She gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing as though she couldn’t find the right words before she pushed away from him. “You said I was a coward, remember?” She poked him in the chest. “You said I don’t let people close.” Poke. “Charon is one of the few people I actually like.” Poke. “He thinks of me as his sister.” Poke, poke. “So lay off.” Mason grabbed her finger before she could poke him again and kissed it. “He wants to have sex with you.” Roxana gasped. “That is not true! Charon, tell him you flirt with everyone.” Charon stood with the other women, his height dwarfing them. He was off the phone and smiled at Roxana. “Sorry, babe, but I wouldn’t mind screwing you. Again.” The Furies rolled their eyes with looks of disgust.

Mason saw red. His body tensed to go after the big bastard, but Roxana held him back, glaring at her friend. “That was over three thousand years ago, you jackass! You’ve treated me like a sister ever since!” She sounded surprised and outraged. “I treat you like a woman I want to screw who wants to be treated like a sister. There’s a difference.” He sounded so reasonable it took everyone a second to realize what he’d said. Mason glared because he understood. Glancing at Roxana, she looked baffled. The Furies, he saw, had bags of popcorn and watched the three of them as though it was the most gripping scene they’d ever witnessed. Meg, of the many hands, glared at Roxana as though she’d like to snatch her bald. These were the most confusing women he’d ever met and that included the women he hoped to marry. Roxana shook her head, drawing his gaze again. She frowned at Charon. “You’re an ass, and we don’t have time for this shit. What did Hades say?” “You’re not going to rip his balls off for wanting you?” Mason couldn’t believe it. Did she really want Charon? Was that the real reason she couldn’t bring herself to care for Mason? “No, because I don’t hurt people who are born mentally challenged.” “Damn.” Teensy sighed and pulled out a crisp bill. She passed it to Allie. At Mason’s questioning look, she explained. “Allie bet me Roxana wouldn’t kick Charon’s ass. I thought she would.” Allie nodded as she tucked the money in her pocket. “Roxana’s not as bad-ass as she wants everyone to think.” Roxana let out a short scream of frustration. “You’re all driving me crazy!” “I don’t think any of us can afford you to be any crazier than you already are, sweetie,” a deep bass boomed behind Roxana and Mason. “Come here, and tell Uncle Hades all about it.” Left holding air, Mason watched as his woman threw herself in the arms of yet another man. The new guy, Hades, was bigger than Mason and Charon. He stood easily at seven foot eight with a perfectly proportionate body. His black hair was cut close to his scalp and eyes as black as onyx glinted at Mason suspiciously. He looked

like the god of the underworld, but the affection in his face when he looked down at Roxana betrayed his heart. A beautiful blonde woman at his side smiled benignly at Roxana and Hades as they embraced. When the god of the Underworld released her, Roxana threw herself at the woman. “What are y’all doing here?” Roxana asked as she stepped back. “I think this is against company policy.” Hades shrugged. “I’m related to the boss. I can do whatever the hell I want.” He looked at Mason. “So this is my new great-great nephew, huh?” Now the spotlight was on Mason, and he didn’t like it all. This was his first time meeting one of the gods face-to-face, and he didn’t know what to say. They were family, but damn, it was seriously messed up. “I’m Mason Landry.” He gave Hades a short nod. The blonde flowed forward, her hands outstretched in front of her. “I’m your Aunt Persephone, and this is your Uncle Hades, Zeus’s brother.” She squeezed him tight. “You’re so handsome! Isn’t he handsome, Hades?” Hades rolled his eyes. “Yes. Stop touching him, or I’ll chop his head off.” Persephone sighed and patted Mason on the arm. “I’m so sorry Hera’s being such a bitch about everything, but she can hold a grudge like only one other person I know.” She smiled softly. Mason saw Roxana frown quizzically at her aunt. “Who?” she asked in all innocence. The Furies snickered, while Charon, Persephone, and Hades laughed outright. Even Mason cracked a smile. His woman did hold a grudge. It was part of her charm. But unlike Hera, she wouldn’t drag innocent people into her problems. She stomped her foot. “I hate it when you guys laugh at me!” Then she pouted. She actually pouted, and Mason was charmed all over again. Where had his battle-hardened, bitter woman gone? He looked at the people surrounding them and realized these people were her family. They, along with Aki and Brice, were the only ones she trusted. She was comfortable with them in a way he hadn’t expected. He glared at Charon who shrugged as he winked at Roxana. He’d get that story soon enough, he decided.

Hades snapped his fingers, and a table and chairs appeared. Mason made sure to sit next to Roxana and wanted to knock Charon’s head off when he sat on her other side. They glared at each other over her bright hair as she spoke with Persephone. “You haven’t eaten since when?” the goddess asked, her tone outraged. She snapped her fingers, and an abundance of food filled the table. “Eat, my sweeties. And you can tell us all what’s going on.” So they did. They filled the others in on what was going on as they filled their bellies. The food was excellent, and Mason ate enough to feed a football team. Roxana wasn’t much further behind him either. She ate with better manners than he did, but she kept up until she finally sat back with a satisfied sigh. It was a sigh he remembered all too well, and his cock twitched with interest. Sternly telling his body that dinner with his family and Roxana’s friends wasn’t the time to get horny, Mason pushed his plate away. “And that’s where we are now.” Roxana’s voice had quivered when she mentioned Aki’s abduction and the “gift” she’d been given by the lamia. He felt like a total shit now. Roxana was being torn in two directions by circumstances. He was still pissed she wouldn’t acknowledge her feelings for him, but now he understood the stress she was under. He gazed at her with respect and a healthy dose of admiration. She needed to protect her brother, but honor demanded she keep her word as an Enforcer. Rock, meet hard place, he thought with a sigh. Hades frowned, his elbows on the table as he rested his chin on his hands. “You know we can’t interfere. It’s in the company bylaws. We can’t offer you aid in any form.” He grimaced as he sat back. Persephone slipped her hand into his, and he raised it to his lips. “Even this simple meal might be considered a breach of rules, but we can always blame that on Charon.” The ferryman, who’d been quiet for the meal, shrugged. “Yeah, that’ll work. People underestimate me because I’m handsome.” Everyone stopped and stared at him. Teensy rolled her eyes. “Why did our mother have him again?” she asked her sisters.

“What? It’s true. Even Hera does. She’s always at my band’s shows, when we have them.” He glanced at Roxana. “Are you jealous?” Mason ground his teeth at her laugh, snagging her hand and placing it on his knee. She glanced at him, her expression startled and curious. Didn’t she understand he was not going to let her flirt with another man? “We can’t help you, but that doesn’t mean we have to hinder you either,” the god said, his voice thoughtful. “I don’t like how she tried to use Charon to finish Mason off. That tells me she’s desperate.” Roxana’s hand clenched under Mason’s. “I don’t like that she had Aki kidnapped and cut a patch of his skin off.” Fury radiated from her every pore. “I’ll carve the bitch up if the lamia hurt him more.” Persephone sighed. “Roxana, don’t you think it’s time you let Akakios grow up? He’s over three thousand years old and hasn’t been tested yet.” She raised her hand to forestall Roxana’s protests. “Yes, he’s been ill, but when was the last time he had an episode?” She slumped back in her chair, her bottom lip protruding slightly. “Nine hundred years or so.” Mason didn’t buy that answer. His Roxana knew the date of her brother’s last brush with illness down to the minute. “What exactly is his illness?” he asked curiously because the Akakios he’d seen looked perfectly healthy. “He has a very weak immune system,” Roxana said stiffly. “Had, Roxana,” Persephone cut in a soft voice. Roxana glared at her aunt. “It’s why I go through such lengths to keep my homes on Earth germ free.” She cleared her throat and toyed with the fork on her plate. “If you’d have seen how many times he nearly died because someone didn’t wash their hands properly…I can’t let anything happen to him.” Mason squeezed her hand gently, bringing her gaze to him. “It has been a while since his last illness, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen again.” “Has he ever gotten so much as a stubbed toe since his last bout with illness? No,” Persephone said before Roxana could answer. “He’s a grown man, but you treat him like a baby. You have to let him gain some life experience if he’s going to circumvent the prophecy.”

“The healers said—” Teensy cut in. “Human healers, Roxana. When was the last time Akakios was examined by one of our own?” “I won’t let her near him,” Roxana growled, her body tensing. “That bitch won’t get another chance at him as long as I live.” Persephone sighed and exchanged a look with Hades. “It doesn’t need to be Galene, darling. One of Dionysus’s other disciples could look him over, or even one of Apollo’s own. Not everyone on Mount Olympus is against you and your brother.” The skeptical look on Roxana’s face said they may as well be talking to a wall. Her fingers dug into his hand beneath the table, a clear indication of her weak grasp on her temper. Not good. “Let’s table that discussion for the moment.” Mason cut in before she could burn bridges. “Right now, our main concern is getting Aki away from those slithery bitches, right?” Hades shook his head. “No. Our main concern is getting you to Zeus before someone succeeds in killing you.” He glanced at Roxana apologetically. “I know how badly you want to go after your brother, but your contract requires you to fulfill the terms of your agreement with Zeus or Akakios suffers.” Her shoulders slumped, and the sight tore right through Mason. Although none of this was his doing, he felt responsible because she had to protect him, not her brother. If he hadn’t known about the scars on her back she’d taken to save her brother’s life, he’d know how much Aki meant to her by the way she talked about him, protected him. Her brother was her life, and it was a life at risk because Mason’s life was at risk. What a clusterfuck. “We’ll go after Aki,” Teensy said suddenly, her voice ringing out clear as a bell. Roxana looked up at the Furies who all nodded. “But you don’t work with immortals.” Allie waved her hand. “That’s what’s so genius about it! No one will expect us!” “It was my idea,” Meg said with a pout. She perked up. “Does he have a girlfriend?” “Leave him alone, Meg, or I’ll beat your ass back to the Bronze Age. Got it?” Roxana growled at the Furie. Meg sniffed.

The plans they made would free Roxana and Mason to make it to the temple while the Furies went after Akakios. Hades and Persephone added as much information as they could, but Mason found it frustrating that they couldn’t help more. Roxana was exhausted and on edge. He saw it in the strain around her eyes. They’d had plenty of food. Now they needed showers and rest. She’d hate it, but Mason had every intention of taking care of her. Mason broke away from his thoughts. The group dispersed. The Furies left with Charon to “rough him up”, so Hera would think he’d attempted to fill his end of the bargain. Persephone looted Charon’s belongings and found Mason some clothes. He didn’t want to wear the bastard’s threads, but needs must. “We have to go, I’m afraid,” Persephone told him while Hades spoke with Roxana. She looked over at her niece, a worried expression in her bright blue eyes. “Take care of her for me.” He laughed softly. “I was thinking the same thing.” A soft smile crossed her face. “We love her dearly, not just us, but several executives do. Unfortunately, between her mother, her father, and some bad relationship choices, she thinks everyone in Olympus, Inc. is out to get her. I won’t say there aren’t people who’d like to see her fall, but the majority appreciates the work she does for us. Don’t let her take stupid risks.” Mason winced. “She doesn’t tell me anything. It’s a bit of a problem between us.” Again, Persephone smiled. “You have to ask her, my dear. She’s been alone too much to realize she has to tell others what’s she’s doing. Give her time.” Roxana walked up just then. “Hades said we can probably make it to my place on this side if we hoof it.” She kissed her aunt on the cheek. “Thanks for finding clothes for him. I’ll see you tomorrow night at the ceremony?” Mason stood back and watched Roxana interact with her aunt and uncle, glad to see she knew they cared, even if she didn’t exactly trust it. What a stubborn woman. Almost as if she’d heard him, Persephone winked at him. He nodded to show her he’d remember what she said. He wouldn’t push Roxana. It didn’t work anyway. He just had to figure out what did work on her.

Chapter Seventeen Roxana sent Mason a surreptitious glance. He’d been quiet since they left Erebus. It made her nervous since she didn’t know what was going through his head. He’d yelled at her in the boat, then acted jealous when Charon did as his usual I’m-an-ass routine. Mason confused the hell out of her, especially now as they trudged through the “between” world. She turned her attention back to the path ahead of her. The massive granite doors beyond Charon’s beach led to a rocky trail at the base of Mount Olympus. Steep outcroppings prevented them from seeing the top of the mountain, but it was there. She could feel the power of the company’s upper echelon radiating down the mountain in pulsing waves. “So,” Mason said, his voice strangely impassive. “You and Charon.” Roxana rolled her eyes skyward. She’d known his silence meant something bad. He’d been thinking. Since he couldn’t see her, she curled her lip. “Yeah.” The spot between her shoulders itched. He was glaring. “And?” She stopped and whirled to face him. “And what, Mason? I was eighteen! It was a very, very brief relationship.” He folded his arms over his bare chest. She really needed to get them to her place so he could put some clothes on. “How brief? Did you love him? Did he hurt you? Why did you break up?” Roxana let out a little screech of frustration. “You’re impossible! Did I ask you anything about your past relationships? No.” “You also haven’t met any women from my past. So far I’ve had the distinct honor of meeting two of yours.” His eyebrows lowered over fierce green eyes. She spun around and stomped along the path. “I grew up in Erebus, so I’ve known him all of my life. I’m best friends with his younger sisters. I always saw him around and vice versa.” She couldn’t believe any of this shit. She shouldn’t explain herself to him, but she remembered his hurt from earlier and couldn’t avoid answering his questions. “When I hit puberty, he became something more to me than just a guy who’d sing silly songs to me. By the time I

was eighteen, I knew I wanted him.” She laughed because what kid knows what they want at eighteen? “It was good for about two years, but I was too young for him, too immature, and he broke it off. I wasn’t too hurt because I’d been tapped to become an Enforcer. Akakios was about thirteen or fourteen, and any free time I had away from training, I spent raising him and trying to keep him out of trouble.” “Charon seems to think he wants you again.” And boy, did he sound as though that grated on his nerves! Roxana waved her hand. “He wants all women. Charon is as much a player as Zeus is, but without the big bank account behind him.” “Huh?” “You know, Zeus is the guy who’ll take a girl out, make her feel special, buy her anything she wants as long as she keeps him happy in bed. Charon is the guy who’ll sleep on your sofa, eat all your chocolate, fuck you blind, and then leave with your best friend.” “You don’t sound like you respect him much.” Surprised, Roxana turned to see him come up next to her. “I love Charon like a brother. I do respect him as a member of the company and a friend, but I know he has his faults. Some day, some woman will knock him on his ass, and he won’t know what to do.” She grinned. “And I plan to be there with a camera to record it all.” Mason chuckled. “I’m sure my exes feel the same.” If she had been a dog, her ears would’ve picked up because something in his voice sounded strained. She wanted to ignore it, but curiosity prompted her to find out more. “Your exes?” Out the corner of her eye, she watched his arm come up as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. My first fiancée—” Roxana stopped. She swiveled her head to stare at him. “First fiancée? You’ve had more than one?” He blushed and his eyes dropped to his feet. “Um, yeah. I’ve had two.” He looked up. He obviously caught her shocked expression because he turned a brighter red. “My first fiancée was a girl I met when I was in the gang. She liked the danger, you know? Some women dig the bad guy thing.” He shrugged as though he didn’t understand it. “I wasn’t in love with her, she wasn’t in love with me, but when I got out of the gang, I proposed because we’d been together for so long.” Mason turned away, walking back up the path.

Roxana followed because she had to hear this. “You broke it off with her?” His muscular shoulders bunched. “Well yeah, I found out she was still screwing the guys in the gang, but by then things had changed a lot with them. They had new kids in there who dealt drugs and shit. I didn’t want any part of it, but Amy started using; and next thing I knew, my apartment was being robbed on a regular basis. The cops were showing up with search warrants.” He rolled his neck. “It was a mess, and I couldn’t get away quick enough.” She frowned at his back. She shouldn’t ask more because obviously this was a tough subject for him, but a little voice in her head said turnabout was fair play. That voice was a bitch. “Fiancée number two?” His sigh was loud. “Melanie. I met her about two years later. She was a real nice lady.” She could hear the smile in his voice, and that pissed her off because she was not a nice lady. “A kindergarten teacher actually. I was working in a warehouse then, trying to clean up my act after Amy. I didn’t think she’d want to date someone like me, but I finally got the nerve to ask her and she said yes. We dated for about three years before I asked her to marry me. Thought it was a sure thing. “A month before the wedding, her ex-boyfriend came back. I met him, and he was perfect for her. You know?” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “They were made for each other. She told him she was getting married, but I could see she still cared about him, so I broke it off.” “You broke it off.” She stared at him. “Did you love her?” Please say no. “Yeah, but not like she loved him, or how he loved her. It was kind of like how you love your friends. I liked her a lot, but there was no great passion between us.” Mason stuffed his hands in his pockets. “They were married on what was supposed to be my wedding day and now have three kids.” There was something wrong with her heart. She felt as though it were ripped in half. He was such a sweet man, dammit. She hated sweet, didn’t she? She remembered the way he thanked her in the boat and decided sweet was pretty awesome. “When was your last relationship?” she asked because apparently she liked torture.

“Tiffany. About five years ago.” If possible, his face turned purple. “She was, um, nineteen when I met her.” “And how old were you?” He cleared his throat. “Thirty-three.” He glanced at her. “It seemed like a good idea at the time! She was young, fun—” “And had a tight ass!” Why was she so pissed off about this? Oh right, because she was older than Mason. Much, much older. She glared straight ahead. “Yeah, she had a tight ass; she also didn’t have a single thought in her head other than partying and having sex. We met when I opened the bar, and it was fun for a while. But I couldn’t keep up with her!” He scowled in her direction. “Happy now? The day she handed me a bottle of blue pills and a picture of her with five friends she wanted to share me with, I decided I’d had enough.” Roxana gasped. “You don’t need those!” And it was her turn to flush when he sent her a smile that melted the elastic in her panties. She sure as hell wouldn’t even think of sharing him with someone. “Not with you, I don’t. I guess it wasn’t so much that I couldn’t keep up with her as I lost interest after a while. And as much as it’s a fantasy for most men, being the object of a fuckfest by five twenty-year-olds did not sound like fun. It sounded like I’d need a trip to the emergency room.” They trudged in silence for a while. Roxana was glad of the quiet because she had to sort through her thoughts. Mason had been with three distinctly different women, had only seemed to love one of them, but not more than a friend. Did that mean he saw her as more? She risked a peek at him and saw his face screwed up in a thoughtful frown. She wondered what he was thinking. **** For fuck’s sake, I’m an idiot. He shouldn’t have told her all that shit until after he got her to fall in love with him. His failure to handle a relationship with three different women didn’t cast him in the best light. Oh sure, not every time had been his fault, but it felt like it. That’s why he’d given up on women after Tiffany. He winced. He’d been a moron with Tiffany. She had been his way of proving his manhood, he supposed. He really was an idiot. Suppressing a sigh, Mason looked around. So far he wasn’t overly impressed with the trip. There was nothing to see. “So where is

everyone?” Roxana jumped when he spoke. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how quiet it was.” “It’s okay. I was just thinking.” She frowned at the path in front of them. “This path isn’t used much anymore except for a few hardcore traditionalists. Most people use the escalators to get from one portal to another.” “Portals?” She stopped and slapped her forehead. “Duh, I forgot you can’t see them. Okay.” She pointed to a blank wall. “That’s the path leading to the Asian portals. There are portals for every country that lead the traveler directly to an Olympus office building. The buildings are fully staffed by mortals who know about us and keep up the appearance that it’s a regular building.” They kept walking, and she pointed out more blank walls. “Every continent has a portal. It used to be that the gods were the only ones who could use them, which meant they had to go into the office everyday, and that didn’t work for them. About a thousand years ago, they changed the bylaws, built the portals, and hired their children and grandchildren to run day-to-day operations.” Intrigued, Mason asked, “What exactly does the company do?” She laughed. “We do everything. There are twelve divisions, and from there, they’re broken down further until nearly every aspect of the world and human life is covered. The official mission statement says something about the company being dedicated to helping people understand every part of their lives and the world around them. The unofficial mission is simple: we have our fingers in every pie. “From birth to death, our company guides and meddles in human life. Wars, famine, marriage, you name it, it’s all handled by the company.” “Marriages?” Mason asked with a sick feeling in his gut. “Who’s CEO of that division?” Roxana paused, a frown pulling at her mouth. “Hera is.” “She did all that shit?” That bitch! He’d tried to pass off her current actions as somewhat understandable, but she’d screwed with him for years! But Roxana was shaking her head. “She probably didn’t do it purposely. Remember, I said day-to-day operations were passed on to

their kids and grandchildren. At the most, she might have signed off on proposals, but that’s it.” That didn’t make it any better, but at least it soothed his feelings of inadequacy. Somewhat. He still felt like a loser who’d ruined any chance he might’ve had with the woman of his dreams. And he knew for certain Roxana was that woman. He used to get pissed off when Amy, his first fiancée, used to yell at him. He actually loved it when Roxana yelled at him. Because he was sick and in love with her, he supposed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was making himself crazy. Or Roxana was making him crazy. He couldn’t decide which. “You okay?” His heart pounded at the soft concern in her voice, but he didn’t look at her. She probably didn’t even realize what she sounded like, probably thought she was doing her duty as an Enforcer, but that tone told Mason she cared about him. If only a little. “Just tired and in need of a bath.” He forced himself to sound beat down and depressed. It wasn’t too hard to do considering he felt stuck in neutral with her. “How much longer?” He felt her gaze touch him like a caress. “Actually, we’ll be there in about twenty minutes. We just have to sneak around my neighbors.” “And how do we do that?” A gleam of mischief appeared in her eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I have it covered.” He should have known by the wink it wouldn’t be pleasant for him, but he was blinded by love. Dammit. After they walked for fifteen more minutes, he found himself wearing her belt around his neck like a collar and his hands tied together by a pair of thigh-high stockings he really wanted to see her in. “Is this absolutely necessary?” he asked as she tightened the stockings around his wrists. He felt like an ass, and if this was some sick joke, he’d paddle her butt. He frowned. The fascination he had with spanking her was a new aspect of his personality he’d never explored before. He eyed her curiously. Would she let him? She smiled and patted his hands. “I have a reputation to maintain. It’s well-known that I’m not fond of mortals, so if they see me dragging you in, they’ll think I brought a new toy home.”

Instant anger swamped him. “Do you do that often? Bring toys home?” Her smile morphed into a frown. “Of course not, but I’ve always threatened to. You should hear what happens in the neighborhood! It’d only be fair if I screamed out orgasms all night like everyone else did.” With that said Roxana grabbed the end of her belt and sashayed down the path. Mason was still trying to figure out if he’d heard her right. She wanted to retaliate against her neighbors by having screaming orgasms? Oh, please let me be the one who gives them to her! Before he knew it, they’d reached a cobbled street. The mountain had been cut away here, making room for rows upon rows of townhouses. They were Victorian in style, like those Painted Ladies in San Francisco. Pinks, blues, soft purples in color, they stretched upwards in bizarre zigzag patterns. It looked like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, but Mason wasn’t given time to study them more closely. Roxana tugged on the belt, leading him down the middle of the street. She kept her eyes forward, but stalked like the jungle cat that’d walked into his bar. Since he was behind her, he had a great view of her juicy ass swaying from side-to-side. “Whatcha got there, Roxana?” A woman’s voice called from one of the homes. “A toy.” The woman was scary beautiful. She had pale skin, red eyes, and midnight black hair. Her gaze crawled over him, and he suppressed a shiver. “If you need any help taming him, let me know. I just got the most wonderful whip in today.” “Sure, Marissa.” Mason’s heart pounded. “Roxana,” he whispered without moving his mouth. “What kind of community is this?” She looked over her shoulder with twinkling eyes. “I couldn’t afford to move to Justice Hill when I was first hired. This is the pleasure district. A lot of Tartarus’s workers live here and sometimes they, um, bring home work.” “Shit.”

Chapter Eighteen Roxana was having more fun than she’d had since … well, since Mason had given her that tongue lashing in the boat. Her neighbors leaned out their apartment windows and shouted suggestions on how to tame Mason. A few of the bitches even suggested she wasn’t woman enough to appreciate him. She smiled serenely. She was more than enough woman for Mason. He’d even said so. Sort of. The girly part of her squealed because Mason didn’t need medical help to have sex with her. It was stupid, but her hormones and feminine pride were pleased that he wanted her. They strode down the street until they reached the twelfth row house on the right. Some of the chaos died down as everyone returned to their homes, but her closest neighbors peered out their windows as she led Mason up the stairs. Once inside the building, they walked to the small elevator. “How many apartments are there in this place?” Mason asked as the elevator doors closed. He looked casual, as though it was commonplace for him to walk around like a pirate’s captive. Roxana eyed him speculatively. There was something downright wicked about having Mason tied up, at her mercy, and headed for her apartment. No one other than Aki and Brice had ever been in her home on Olympus. But it felt right for Mason to come home with her. Her womb quivered even as her brain reminded her that Mason had given last time without taking anything for himself. Maybe it was time to repay the favor. “This particular building has eighty floors. Each floor is a separate apartment.” She moved closer to him, inhaling the soft scent of lavender from the wet wipe bath he’d taken on the boat. “I’m on floor seventy-five, so we have a long trip ahead of us.” He looked up at the digital display over the doors. “It doesn’t look like an old elevator.” Roxana grinned to herself and sidled closer to him. “It isn’t, but someone on the eightieth floor fooled with the controls to slow it down. I think it takes about half an hour to get to the eightieth floor now.” He looked back at her, all outraged on her behalf. “Did you complain to the board about that?”

Poor, innocent man. “No, I don’t stay here often, and everyone else seems to like the new pace.” “Why?” Roxana slid to her knees in front of him and kissed the skin above his waistband. “Because it’s fun.” She heard him gulp. She looked up at him as she unbuttoned his jeans. His zipper slid down with a hiss. Roxana bit her lip as she worked the material over his hips and bulging cock. She purred at the erection bobbing in front of her face. “You have a beautiful cock, Mason.” She leaned forward to rub her cheek against it. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.” Roxana sighed happily as she lapped at him from base to tip. His knees buckled, and since his hands were tied, he couldn’t catch himself, but he fell back instead. He leaned against the wall, and Roxana wiggled her way between his legs. She traced the veins and ridges of his cock with just the tip of her tongue. When she reached the tip again, she laved the weeping slit until he moaned endlessly. “Do you like that, baby?” **** Mason wasn’t sure his voice would work. His woman was giving him head like she loved his dick. What man wouldn’t like that? He wanted to grab her and make her take him all the way inside, but A, his hands were literally tied, and B, he wanted to see how badly she wanted him to come. “Yes, I love it,” he finally rasped when she paused in her lapping. He wanted to cry. “Please, Roxana.” She smiled against the head of his cock. He felt her lips stretch and curve up. “Please, what?” Her hot breath washed over him until he thought he might faint. “Suck my cock, baby.” The woman purred. “I thought you’d never ask.” He almost reminded her that he hadn’t technically asked, but he wasn’t a complete moron. Not yet, at least. Instead, he let his head fall back on the wall as her mouth surrounded the crown of his cock and sucked. Holy shit. Her tongue rubbed against him as she drew on him, the combination of suction and friction enough to make his eyes roll

back in his head. He thrust his hips towards her. What she was doing was fantastic, but he wanted more. She chuckled deep in her throat, and he felt it throughout his body. Her mouth slid on him until he touched the back of her throat. It was a slow torture, and he wanted to howl. Instead, he groaned loudly and put his bound hands on the top of her head. Holding her steady, he fucked her mouth with short strokes. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked down to see her eyes closed with pleasure. The sight of his dick tunneling in and out of her mouth had his balls drawing up with his impending orgasm. The only sounds in the elevator were his groans and the greedy sucking of his woman. She dragged her nails up the insides of his thighs, and he lost it. Pumping his hips faster and deeper, Mason should’ve worried about making her gag, but his body needed fulfillment. She scraped the sensitive underside of his cock with her teeth, and he came with a roar. His cum jetted into her hot mouth in great pulses that he felt all the way to the top of his skull. Roxana, the most beautiful, sexiest woman he’d ever known, swallowed every drop. Mason slumped with a grunt. Roxana wasn’t finished with him though. She licked every inch of his cock, cleaning him. Her talented mouth kissed a path from his cock, up his torso, to his lips. Mason tasted himself on her lips, which was hot enough to make his body to throw wood again. She bit his bottom lip as she pulled up his jeans. “It’s okay, baby, you’ll have plenty of time to give this bad boy another work out.” She patted his cock through his zipper with a smile. “God, woman, I—” The ding of the elevator interrupted him which was probably a good thing, Mason thought as Roxana led him out of the car. He’d almost told her he loved her. Again. It wasn’t his fault though. A man had no control over what he said when he’d just had an explosive orgasm, but she’d have pulled away from him again; and that wouldn’t do. “This is one of my other homes,” she said as she stopped in the middle of a living room. She undid the stockings around his wrists as she spoke. “I have four bedrooms, two and a half baths, a full kitchen, and formal dining room.” It was huge and more ornate than her townhouse had been back in Lafayette. This was obviously where she kept her company

mementoes, because he saw plaques lining one wall thanking her for her years of service to Olympus, Inc. The opposite wall of the massive living room was filled with pictures. Tugging the belt from around his neck, Mason walked over to look at pictures of her life. The oldest ones weren’t pictures, he saw, but framed mosaics. He saw Roxana dressed in one of those flowing Grecian robe things with her hair piled up with a very young Akakios sitting on her lap. Moving along the wall the pictures of Roxana and Akakios progressed through every fashion in history. It was easy to see their affection for each other and Roxana’s growth from impish child to cynical adult. He stopped when he reached the photos. He smiled because it was a black and white picture of Roxana wearing clothing straight out of the Wild West. Her hair was piled beneath a Stetson, her pants and button-down shirt made her look like a little girl playing dress-up, but the gunbelt draped over her hips told a different story. Aki wore something similar, though he didn’t have the same look in his eyes Roxana did. “We took that when we were building one of our first houses in the New World.” She came to stand next to him. “Some Sumerian bastards tried to horn in on my land, so I had to teach Aki how to shoot.” Frown lines appeared between her eyebrows as she looked at him. “Contrary to what Persephone said, I didn’t baby him completely. I took care of him. I always took care of him and always will.” She stepped away, her arms wrapped around her waist. “You know my mom attacked me for protecting Aki? A prophecy was made when he was born saying he was the Harbinger of Death who would bring about an end to mankind.” She laughed and stared out the window of the apartment. **** “He was this little scrawny thing. Sickly. My mother wanted to kill him, but I wouldn’t let her. He was my little brother, and he deserved a chance to live. I thought she agreed because she didn’t do anything to him for several months.” Roxana frowned and bit her lip. “We brought him to healers all over Greece, and each said his illness was due to the prophecy. His body was ‘purging itself of all weakness and when he was finally cured, he would destroy the world’,” she said using air quotes. “The last healer told us Aki’s life wasn’t worth the lives of millions.”

Mason was so quiet she suspected he was shocked at her confession. She couldn’t imagine why she was telling him this, especially after she’d gone down on him in the elevator. Perhaps it was the way his eyes softened at the picture wall. Yes, she loved her brother as much as any mother would love her child, but she didn’t hide him from the ugliness of life. “We lived in a small mortal settlement near Thebes back then. Mom was a disciple of Dionysus and had left for a celebration. I knew better than to leave Aki alone even for a minute, but I wanted to see the festivities.” She smiled at the memory. “Aki and I are part maenad, after all. We have the same fascination for Dionysus that our mother did. I ran to the temple to watch, but showed up too late. The frenzy had begun without me, and the maenads ran out into the countryside. I went home.” She shivered and rested her forehead against the glass, watching people walking up the street who looked the size of ants from this height. “She’d already come in. I don’t know how she knew I wasn’t there. When I walked in the door of our home, she had Aki pinned in the corner. She’d already slashed open his face with her claws. “I’d never seen her like that, and it scared me. I threw myself in front of him, and her hand went right through my back and out my chest.” She smiled and pressed her fingertips against the scars over her heart. “It’s a lethal wound for my kind if the person dealing the blow is immortal. Luckily, she was still mortal. She wouldn’t stop going after Aki though, so I fought her. I was barely thirteen, and I fought my mother nearly to her death to protect Aki.” “What happened then?” he asked softly, his arms coming around her waist. She should have shoved away from him because she didn’t need comfort from anyone, but she couldn’t find the strength or will. He felt right surrounding her with his strength, like he’d never let anything hurt her ever again. She rolled her eyes. She was delusional. Being good at blow jobs did not mean a man couldn’t live without you. “Aki stopped me. He touched my arm, and I stopped like someone hit a switch. I grabbed him and took him away from the humans. They were the ones who kept filling our mother’s head with hate and lies about him. Hera had a lot to do with that. Her priestesses proclaimed as long as Aki lived, everyone’s lives were at stake. So I

brought him to Erebus and raised him there until I could move us to our own place.” She sighed, sinking back into Mason even more. She was so tired, both emotionally and physically. “It sounds like your brother’s very lucky to have a sister like you,” Mason whispered against her ear. “You’ve loved and protected him for thousands of years. You’re not going to stop now, and you shouldn’t.” He squeezed her tight. “But you should let the boy get laid now and then. Playing too much Xbox will rot his brain.” Roxana laughed and swatted Mason’s arm. “I am not telling my brother to get laid. The first bitch he sleeps with will probably own him for life, and he’s too good for anyone.” She reveled in his tight hug, stupid heifer she was. It was time for a little space. She pulled away from him and said, “You should go take your shower. I’ll show you the way to the bathroom.” “You won’t be joining me?” She wanted to. She was sure if she showered with Mason, she’d come out very, very clean, but she needed to think. “No, sorry, I have to make a few calls to some people, find out if Hera’s knows we’re here.” Mason sighed. “Okay. Does Aki have any clothes here? I don’t want to wear Goldilocks’s shit.” Roxana chuckled. “Sure.” They walked through the apartment, Mason looking around curiously. “You don’t have one of those decontamination rooms here?” “Nah, I don’t need to have them here. Germs don’t exist on this plane. As long as I have my anti-bacterial wipes with me, I can satisfy my little quirk.” She grimaced. It was more than a quirk. She wouldn’t have touched Mason at all in the elevator if she hadn’t seen him clean himself with the wipes. “It started as a way to keep Aki from getting sick on the mortal plane, but after a while, I became obsessed with it.” Instead of poking fun at her, he merely nodded and looked thoughtful. They entered Aki’s bedroom, which was immaculate and electronic free. “Does he stay here often?” “No, he hates it here.” She sighed and rifled through the closet until she found a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that would fit Mason. “He’s more tolerant of the mortals than I am. I guess because they make so many of his favorite toys.”

“You did a good job with him as far as I can see.” Roxana looked up at Mason’s serious face, and her heart melted. It was somewhere around her feet, and she didn’t care. This man had given her the biggest, most important compliment. He didn’t ridicule her for the way she’d raised her brother. He didn’t act as though he knew better than she what was best for Aki. His not-quite-handsome face had become carved upon her memory. She’d remember the grain of his skin, the way his lips curved when he gave her his best sexy smile for as long as she lived. The warmth in her chest felt too big for her body, as though it would burn her up from the inside out. Against all reason, she’d fallen in love with the godling. How could she not? He was sweet and funny and practically left her panties smoking with lust. He wasn’t even immortal yet, but that ceased to matter. He was Mason, and she loved everything about him. Sonofabitch. “Roxana?” His soft whisper accompanied a tender brush of fingers across her cheek. “You okay?” She couldn’t tell him. He had his whole immortality ahead of him. Even if he loved her as he said, his family would never approve of a relationship between them. She was so beneath him in terms of status, it was almost laughable. “I’m fine.” She stepped closer to him and draped her arms around his neck. “I was just thinking that we don’t have much time, and it might be best if we shared that shower after all.” There went that smile, she thought as she pressed her body against his. She wanted one last memory of them coming together. She wanted to show him how much she did cherish him. No fast having sex on whatever surface was available. If she had more time, she’d romance him in her big four-poster bed, but they had maybe three hours before Brice showed up. She leaned up and nibbled at his mouth. “Let’s take that shower.” “M’kay,” he answered against her lips. “Which way?” Roxana went to pull away, but he grasped her ass and lifted. She wrapped her legs around his waist with a laugh. She loved how strong he was. “In the hall, turn right, second door on the left.”

She was fine with him carrying her. It meant she could taste and tease him. And she did the entire way to the bathroom. She’d make sure this was a shower to remember. **** Akakios Melanos groaned as he was dropped on the ground, the cloth over his head shaking loose. This rescue was turning into a nightmare. He couldn’t see worth a damn, his body hurt from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, and the women “rescuing” him were as delicate as sledgehammers. He’d rescued himself, had already broken out of his chains and killed most of the lamia when they showed up. He glared at the raven-haired woman, Tisiphone. After a short fight with the newcomers, Tisiphone had hit him over the head and trussed him up like a Thanksgiving turkey. “Did you get her cell phone?” she asked her sister, Allie. Tisiphone’s face was bruised from his fists, but her glare was still brutal. He refused to feel guilty. How was he supposed to have known she was on his side? Or rather, his sister’s side since they were three of her best friends. He bared his teeth at the eldest Furie. If she wasn’t such a bitch, she’d be hot. As it was, he wanted to rip her head off for treating him like an imbecile. He couldn’t help but wonder what shit Roxana talked about him when she was with these women. “Of course I got her phone. I’m not an idiot.” Allie tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. Well at least he wasn’t the only one Tisiphone treated that way. It was very little comfort, especially when his head pounded hard enough to make him see spots. “Are you calling Roxana?” She turned to him with a hard smile. “No. She has more important things to worry about than an ungrateful shit like you.” “Don’t listen to her. She’s just mad ‘cause you got the better of her,” Meg said as she sat next to him, eyeing him with blatant appreciation. “So tell me, Aki, do you have a girlfriend?” Eyeing the brunette with dread, Aki shook his head. He hadn’t ever had a girlfriend. He had to be the oldest virgin on the planet and on Olympus, but that wasn’t something he advertised. His eyes sought out Tisiphone against his will. He wouldn’t mind having her writhing beneath him though. She turned around as though she felt his eyes on her, and he looked away again.

Meg smiled, the wild glint in her eyes downright frightening. “You wanna have sex with me?” “Uh…” “Stop that, Meg.” Tisiphone jerked her sister to her feet. “He’s off limits, remember? Roxana told you to stay away from him. Besides, we don’t fuck on the job.” “And we don’t sleep with our best friend’s brother,” Allie said in a bland tone as she dug through her pockets. “Roxana would skin you alive and have a Halloween costume made from your hide.” Meg flounced away, her nose upturned. “Don’t screw with my sisters.” The low growl came from Tisiphone, drawing Aki’s attention back to her. “Pardon?” Because he didn’t want to screw with her sisters, he wanted to screw her. He drank in her beauty. The lush curve of her lips, the bright blue eyes with thick eyelashes, the soft, fine skin all came together in a symphony of delicate beauty that hid a viper’s heart. Her eyes flared angrily. “You keep your dick away from my sisters, or I’ll cut if off and return it to you for Christmas. We’re not on the menu to you.” Aki felt his body swell with aggression, but not violent aggression. Oh, no. His cock pounded like a jackhammer in his jeans. “What’s wrong, Tisiphone? Are you scared you won’t be able to resist me, so you’re warning me away?” He taunted her, making sure his eyes conveyed his desire. For a second, her face softened and her lips parted, but a sudden shout of triumph from Allie brought her back to herself. The look she gave him could have cut glass. “Don’t fuck with me, Bubble Boy. You’ll only regret it.” She walked away before he could form a rebuttal, her pert little ass wiping all thoughts from his brain. Aki adjusted himself in his jeans and frowned at the woman who thought he was too young for her. One day, he’d teach her the error of her ways. **** Hera looked at Charon’s battered face and felt her fear and fury rise. Roxana was going to ruin everything! The godling was closer. They could all feel it. Mason’s bloodline was tied to Zeus’s temple and the power residing there. That power would grow and grow until the ceremony, if there was a ceremony. If she managed to

stop Mason in the next – she looked at her watch – eight hours, the power would recede and return to her husband. “Get out of here, dammit.” Gods, he was attractive but dumb. Very dumb. How she thought she could use a man for a job like this, she didn’t know. She dialed Xychxana’s number and listened to it ring. Hera tapped her foot beneath her desk. The damned lamia was probably off eating another mortal. She needed to do something drastic to Akakios if she was going to have any hope of reining in Roxana. She sighed as Xychxana’s cell went to voicemail. “Call me now.” She sat fuming. Her plans were not working out. She didn’t know who to be angrier with, Roxana, Mason, or her husband. It was as though the fates were conspiring against her. Her body froze. Oh no. Her cell phone rang, and she answered it quickly. “Hello?” “Well, well, hellooo Hera!” The voice on the other end of the line was annoyingly perky, and all-too familiar. “Alecto.” Grim foreboding filled her. Not the Fates, but the Furies. “I was just calling to find out how you were doing. You know, since your plan to kill Roxana’s godling isn’t working.” The smugness in the Furie’s voice caused Hera’s heart to drop. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alecto laughed. “That’s okay! We removed Akakios from the equation, so you and Roxana can duke it out.” Someone yelled something in the background. “Oh, and if you send any more of your bitches after him, we’ll kick their asses.” More yelling in the background. “I’m trying to talk on the godsdamn phone, here! Oh, and Hera, you can bet your thousand dollar panties we’re telling Zeus everything.” The yelling in the background grew louder, and Alecto shouted, “If you’d wanted to talk on the phone, you should’ve called—” The call ended, and Hera placed her phone on the desk. Her palms were slick with sweat. Her bargaining chip was gone, lost to the brutal hands of the Furies. No one messed with them. Like the Fates, the Furies were slightly outside the company’s hold. She was boxed in unless she could eliminate Roxana and Mason. She hadn’t

admitted to anything on the phone, and she could only pray Xychxana hadn’t told them who she was working for. There was only one being left who might be able to stop them without feeling an ounce of remorse. She hated to call upon the monster, but if her plan was going to succeed, Hera needed her. The phone slipped from her hand twice before she finally grasped it in a white-knuckled grip. She dialed the number to the mother of all monsters. Sweat beaded along her upper lip as a song about dirty deeds played while she waited for an answer. “Yeah?” a female voice answered. “Th-This is Hera.” Her voice was a hoarse croak. She shouldn’t be doing this. “I need to hire you.”

Chapter Nineteen Mason carried Roxana to a luxurious bedroom he suspected was hers. The bed was massive, and he could too easily imagine spending hours, perhaps days, in it with the woman who currently clung to him like a monkey. She licked, nibbled, and bit his neck and ears, her hot breath wafting over his skin. His cock throbbed. The bathroom was huge, but then he would expect no less of his Roxana. Without lowering her to the floor, he opened the door to the stand-alone shower with its twelve showerheads. That was the kind of shower meant to be used for making love. He turned the water on, the sound of a waterfall filling the bathroom. Roxana tugged on his hair, her mouth sought out and sealed over his in a kiss hot enough to set off a fire alarm. She didn’t charge in with vicious desire as she usually did. No, she seduced him with dainty forays into his mouth. He groaned, tightening his hands on her ass. He wanted in. Her. Now. The slick slide of her tongue mimicking what he wanted his cock to do to her sweet pussy was enough to make him lose control. But no, he needed to show her they could do more than come. Right? His mind blanked as soft gold light surrounded her, leaving him with a naked Roxana in his arms. It took some maneuvering and several accidental-on-purpose slips of his fingers to remove his jeans, but soon he was just as naked as she was. He stepped into the shower, and they were immediately bombarded by seductive hot water. He protested when her legs slipped down his sides by tugging her closer. She pulled back slightly, her every breath causing her gorgeous nipples to graze his chest. “Let me bathe you,” she asked in a voice husky with desire. Mason had to think about it because he didn’t want a bath; he wanted to get wet in an entirely different way. Then he realized her hands would be all over his body. He looked around and found a bottle of shower gel. He thrust it into her hands so fast, she laughed. “Hm,” she said with a sly survey of his very aroused and naked body. “I think you’ve been a very dirty boy.” Mason nodded; speaking was not something he could manage at the moment. She squirted the gel into the palm of her hand before

returning the bottle to its proper place. Trust Roxana to keep everything nice and neat while in the throes of lust. She lathered her hands well and approached him with a siren’s smile. She started at his neck, her strong, lethal hands massaging the soap into his skin. He stared down at her, enjoying the look of pleased concentration on her beautiful face. Mason reached over and snagged the bottle of gel, squirting a generous portion in his hand. She peeked up at him with a smile as he lathered it and began washing her shoulders and neck. “You have such a gorgeous body,” Roxana sighed as her hands coasted over his chest. “I should’ve known that first night you weren’t merely human.” A blush stung his cheeks, but he smiled regardless. “I’m glad you like it.” He stroked her breasts in slow, hypnotizing circles. Her nipples beaded beneath his touch. “You feel like you were made for me.” The showerheads thundered, swallowing her soft gasp of pleasure as he kneaded her firm flesh. Her soapy hands slipped down his stomach, his stomach muscles tensing as she cleaned him. Mason mirrored her move; his hands roamed over the gentle swell of her belly enjoying the softness of her skin. Together, they reached the objects of their true intent. Roxana clasped his pulsing cock in her tight hand, and Mason slid his now soapless fingers through her saturated folds. Their gazes locked as they teased each other with their hands. There was no longer any pretense of them cleaning each other. Mason gritted his teeth as his wicked woman pumped his cock in a languorous rhythm. He found her entrance with two of his fingers and circled it before thrusting them into her welcome heat. His other hand tangled in her hair to tug her head back for his kiss. Her tongue greeted him eagerly, but her hand never lost its cadence on his cock. Mason ached to come, especially when her other hand cradled his balls, gently rolling and squeezing them. He growled into her mouth and used his thumb to press her clit. She quivered against him, her body tense and ready to explode. He pulled his mouth away from hers. “No. I want you to come around me.” His voice was nothing more than a rumbling growl, but he showed her what he wanted by removing her hand from his cock and spinning her around.

With one hand on her shoulder to press her into the wall and the other on her hip, he positioned her the way he wanted. He released her shoulder to skim his hand down her back, over the sleek scarlet hair that arrowed straight to her ass as though pointing his way. He grasped both her hips in his hands, guiding her to her tiptoes, his cock poised to thrust. He paused and took several deep breaths. The animal in him needed her, but the man wanted to possess her fully, to make her dream about this forever. He collected his composure and angled his hips forward so the tip of his cock slid between her lips. He hissed as he came into contact with her wet heat, but didn’t enter her. Leaning back to watch his cock play along her folds, he teased himself with the promise of paradise. He also drove Roxana wild. She pressed her hands against the wall of the shower to thrust back against him, but Mason’s steady hold on her hips kept her in place. “Mason, please!” He smiled behind her and powered into her in one stroke. She shrieked as his cock plowed into her tight pussy, the muscles stretching to accept him. For one split second, he worried he might have hurt her, but her hips bucked back to sheath his entire length. Mason’s head fell back as he buried himself balls deep in Roxana. She wriggled in his hold, babbling something about needing him to move, but Mason refused. He planned to enjoy this moment in spite of the fierce ache in his balls. She was so wet and tight around him, he wasn’t sure he could move at all, but somehow he found the will to withdraw until only the crown remained. He inched inside her this time, allowing the ripples of her body to encase his cock. His eyes rolled back in his head. God, she felt so good! He tortured them both by repeating the movement, slipping out of her body almost reluctantly and entering her again as though afraid she would break. Roxana sobbed against the wall, his tight hold on her preventing her from taking over. Soon, her body was so soaked, Mason glided in and out more smoothly. He picked up his pace, his stomach slapping against her ass with every powerful thrust. He let go of her hips, sliding his hands up and around to grip her breasts, but he never stopped riding her. He labored to breathe, his whole body working towards one goal: to make Roxana his.

Mason pumped harder. One of his hands slipped down her belly to circle her clit. Her panting moans became soft cries as she tensed around him. He swooped down, his teeth piercing the soft skin where her shoulder and neck met. Primal satisfaction flowed through him when her soft cries erupted into a shriek as she came from the mingled bite of pain and pleasure. He growled against her skin as his cock plunged into her clenching pussy. He closed his eyes at the sensation, his own orgasm tingling at the base of his spine. **** Roxana panted as she slowly came down from a mind-blowing orgasm. Mason was motionless behind her, the tendon of her neck held in his teeth. She felt boneless, but with one of his big hands gripping her breast and his other between her legs, he supported her easily. She wanted to curl up next to him and sleep with his scent tickling her nose. But her man had other plans. His cock filled her near to pained fullness, and his ragged pants against her neck filled her ears. He held back until she relaxed completely in his hold, trusting herself to him. It was a heady sensation, and she savored the experience of truly giving herself to her lover. As though that was the signal he needed, he retreated a little and thrust back inside her so deep the head of his cock nudged her cervix. Roxana’s fingers curled against the tiles. She didn’t think she could go again, but she knew Mason would throw her over the edge if he had to. Except her body warmed for him, loosening so he could move easier. The hand between her legs stroked her clit, teasing her back to fever pitch. He grunted with his strokes, the primal sound of his exertion heating her up even more. He played with her nipple, his hand almost brutal on her flesh, and she loved every minute of it. He was taking her, marking her. She closed her eyes and let him have her. His thrusts became faster, and he relaxed his bite. His openmouthed pants against her skin told her he was closing in on his orgasm. She wanted to feel it. She tightened her inner muscles around him, forcing a growl from him. His finger strummed her clit, and Roxana lost all power over her body. She came with a choked scream, her body shaking in his hands, but he wasn’t letting her go. No, he thrust harder, grinding his

stomach against her ass. His hands left her clit and breast to clasp her hips against him. He jerked against her, his cock pulsing inside her as he came with a roar that bounced off the shower tiles. Roxana gasped as he flooded her with his seed, her still-clenching pussy caressing him until he was dry. Mason’s hand slammed against the tiles over her head as he fought to keep his feet beneath him. She felt his body shaking with the after-effects of his orgasm. Hell, she was wilted like three-day old lettuce, and the only reason she hadn’t fallen already was because his free arm was looped around her waist. He could have let her go, and she would’ve been fine with it. She couldn’t feel anything below her neck anyway. Her body was devoid of all sensation. Then she realized she wasn’t breathing. She gasped, oxygen flooding her brain again. Mason’s big body was draped over back, his forehead pressed against the back of her head. “Are you okay, baby?” In spite of her exhaustion and close call with oxygen deprivation, she smiled. “M’good,” she mumbled because actually speaking took too much effort. He chuckled softly but gasped as his cock shifted inside her. His body shuddered as he pulled away from her. “God, woman, you’re gonna kill me.” “No talking. Bed.” “I don’t think I have the strength to carry you back,” he said after several seconds. “Wimp. Are you suggesting I carry you?” He laughed again and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “How about we support each other and stumble to the bed?” “That works.” She turned around, glad he supported her because her knees weren’t where they belonged. She’d somehow lost them between Aki’s room and the shower. He turned off the water. Such a good man. She sighed. Looping their arms around each other, they stepped out of the shower and dried each other off haphazardly. It was more like they stood in the middle of the bathroom dripping on the rug and patted their favorite bits; she got his cock, he got her breasts, pussy and ass. When they were as dry as they were going to get, they stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs.

Roxana closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of Mason’s body against hers. She wished it could always be like this. Her breath caught in her lungs. She wanted to be the woman Mason went to sleep with every night. Their time was coming to a close, and she saw nothing but an eternity of heartbreak ahead of her. She planned to enjoy this moment of rare intimacy because the memory would have to last a lifetime. “Roxana?” Mason’s voice was deep, soft, and the tender stroke of his finger over her lips made her smile. “Hm?” She felt so safe in his arms. She wondered if Mason even realized how far he’d broken down her defenses and finally decided he had no clue. He’d never know she loved him with all her heart, and it was for the best. If she told herself that enough times, she might even believe it. As she waited for him to answer her, she drifted off to sleep. With one arm and leg draped over him, she nuzzled his chest. She never heard what he said, but she dreamed he told her he loved her. **** Mason wondered if Roxana even heard him. Her body was a soft, boneless weight against him, and he decided she’d fallen asleep before she could hear him confess his love. He sighed and closed his eyes. A smile spread across his face. He finally had the nerve to tell her straight out how he felt, and she fell asleep on him. He supposed he shouldn’t have made love to her so hard, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d enjoyed it as much as she had and was just as exhausted. He yawned. They could catch a couple hours of sleep before they had to leave. Mason felt content. They were on Mount Olympus after a harrowing journey; she’d brought him to her private home; and they’d made explosive love together. In a few hours, he’d be immortal like her, and then they could discuss their future. And he did plan to have a future with her. He couldn’t imagine living without her now, without her cranky snarls, her bright smiles, and her hot little body cuddled next to him. She hadn’t heard his declaration, but that was okay. His arm tightened around her as he pulled the comforter over them. He’d tell her he loved her again when they woke up. With that promise in mind, he sank into a deep sleep as dreams of a future with Roxana played through his mind.

**** Roxana groaned as she was pulled from a perfectly lovely dream involving Mason, chocolate, and a pair of handcuffs. She blinked her eyes open. Mason rested in bed next to her, his body completely relaxed, his face boyishly innocent as he slept. The banging started up again. She’d kill Brice for showing up so early. A glance at the clock told her she’d only slept two and a half hours. He shouldn’t have been here for another hour. The bastard. Extracting herself from Mason’s tight hold, Roxana eased from the bed so as not to wake him. He needed his sleep more than she did. His transition would take a toll on his body. Power leaked into him from Mount Olympus, and even as she watched, his skin took on the golden glow of the immortals. In five hours, he’d be one of the upper administration with all the powers and rights of his powerful family. She smiled sadly and stroked his hair away from his scarred face. The banging was louder, and she let her hand fall away from Mason with a regretful sigh. She conjured a pair of jeans, an old T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers as she stalked through her apartment. The bang sounded again, but it was closer than before. She paused in mid-step, her senses suddenly alert. What was that? She’d thought it was Brice banging on the wall next to the elevator to let her know he’d arrived, but the sound was much closer than that. There was an air of heavy expectation about her quiet apartment that warned her to use caution. Since she was so close to the center of her power, she conjured her very best suit of armor and the double-edged sword named Relentless. It had been crafted by Hephaestus just for her use, the blade blessed by Hades himself to inflict serious damage on immortals. Five feet long and perfectly balanced, it was a weapon designed to kill, and she’d only used it once before. The bang came again and then the scent of smoke. The acrid stench floated along the hall towards her. Her nostrils pinched in distaste. Cigarette smoke. Her eyes narrowed. Who in their right mind would come to her apartment and light a cigarette? Lips pulling back into a snarl, Roxana stalked forward on silent feet.

“Don’t bother sneaking up on me, little girl. I heard you the minute you woke up.” The woman’s voice was distinctively raspy, but it wasn’t one she recognized. Roxana entered the living room warily, her eyes sweeping left and right. Everything looked fine with no strange guests. She stopped three feet into the big room, her body flashing cold then hot. The hair rose on the back of her neck. A glance at the plaques across the room showed the reflection of a figure clinging to the wall above the door she’d just walked through. Roxana dropped to the ground and rolled away from the hallway entrance. Back on her feet, she faced her intruder and felt every drop of blood pool at her feet. No, Hera would not have called Echidna. Roxana shook her head, her eyes unable to believe what she was seeing. Echidna was petite, probably no more than five foot three. Her silver hair was arranged in a classic Grecian topknot. Large orange eyes watched Roxana’s every move with reptilian contempt. And she was part reptilian as well as many other things. She was the mother of all monsters, after all. Every monster in Greek history was born of her loins, from the Mares of Diomedes to the lamia. She was a mixture of every nightmare come to life. Her black feathered wings stretched high above her head, her brass-tipped claws and talons dug into the plaster of Roxana’s wall to hold herself in place. Scales started at her breasts and covered the rest of her body. A serpentine tail with a spiked tip whipped around her body. She was a horror of nature, a true abomination, and one of the biggest motherfucking monsters in any plane. “I see you recognize me.” She clutched a cigarette in her yellowed teeth. “I like it when they recognize me.” No wonder the bitch sounded like her vocal chords had been through a meat grinder. She’d probably been smoking for hundreds, if not thousands of years. Roxana still couldn’t believe she had Echidna in her apartment. Hera must have seriously lost her mind. “I don’t suppose I need to ask why you’re here,” Roxana said to one of the true legends wryly. Echidna barked out a raspy laugh. “That was a good one, maenad. You pissed the wrong person off, and they were willing to pay for your head on a platter.” She waved her tail in dismissal. “So you know, it’s nothing personal. I’m a business woman now.”

Roxana understood that, but also understood she was the only thing standing between Echidna and the still not quite immortal Mason. She kept her eyes on her assassin, though she longed to see if her lover had awakened. A hard smile curved Echidna’s lipless mouth. “He’s still asleep, and as soon as I’m finished with you, I’ll have a tasty morsel to feed my kids. The little shits eat more than ever now. It’s hard to keep them in mortal flesh, but you brought him right here to this plane.” Her head cocked to the side. “I do like home-delivery.” Roxana’s nostrils flared, and she raised her sword higher. “You’ll have to go through me to get to him,” she snarled, her heart pounding beneath the carbon fiber breastplate she wore. Another creepy smile crossed Echidna’s face as she tilted her head in the other direction. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

Chapter Twenty Roxana braced herself as Echidna pushed off the wall. Her talons and claws were fully extended, her spiked tail poised to strike. Roxana conjured a shield and barely avoided being impaled by the spike, her sword slashing upwards. She never touched the beast. Damn, she was fast! Echidna chuckled as she swooped low again, her claws raking across Roxana’s cheek. Blood poured down her face, but she couldn’t be distracted by it or the pain. She swung at the tail over her head and connected. The spike fell, and she jumped to the side before it impaled her on the way to the floor. The beast screeched in pain and fury, pivoting around with raw rage pouring off of her. She flew at Roxana again, her talons and claws out. With the threat of the spike gone, Roxana’s confidence returned. She parried the vicious swipes of claws, sparks flying as they raked across her armor. Her sword danced with deadly precision as she tore into the beast. Echidna grabbed the shield, tearing it off Roxana’s arm and throwing it across the room. Pain ripped through her shoulder as it was dislocated. The shield flew into the wall with a solid thunk. Shit. Grasping her sword with both hands, Roxana hacked at the beast whose wounds seemed to heal before her eyes. Her shield arm was mostly useless and painful, but it helped her steady her strokes somewhat. Not good. Echidna swooped low. Roxana kicked out at her, connecting with the monster’s torso. She flew through the air to the opposite wall, her body barrel rolling. She hit the wall hard enough to knock plaster from the ceiling, but it didn’t slow her at all. Echidna flew upward again to hover around the ceiling, her orange eyes filled with bloodlust and triumph. She watched the spike grow back on the bitch’s tail. Horror engulfed her. Echidna healed faster than Roxana could inflict damage. This was definitely not good. Terror for Mason filled her and gave her new strength to fight as Echidna swooped down again. Sweat poured down her face causing the wound on her cheek to sting, but she kept attacking the bitch.

Her world narrowed down to Echidna and the triple combination of talons, claws, and tail as they came at her one after another. She deflected the spike, but the beast’s talons dug into her injured shoulder, piercing through the carbon fiber until she hit bone. Roxana screamed at the pain, her left arm falling to her side. The pain radiated throughout her body, threatening to destroy her concentration. Her only thought to protect Mason from this bitch of a monster, she tightened her grip on Relentless and stabbed upward. The sword sank into soft flesh. Echidna screeched, releasing Roxana from her hold. She stumbled back, almost falling on her ass as her knees wobbled. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she glanced over to see Mason standing transfixed in the doorway. The flap of wings dragged her attention back to Echidna. There was a smirk on the beast’s face; her orange eyes glowed with murderous intent. No. Gods, no. Roxana wasn’t sure if she shouted the words or not, but it made no difference either way. The bitch flew towards him with a blood-curdling screech. Everything slowed down. Mason looked from her to the beast; she saw the furious anger in his eyes. His hands clenched as he stalked forward to meet Echidna’s challenge. If she didn’t do something, she’d watch Mason die before her eyes. The dip in the River Styx only worked against weapons. Though Echidna’s entire body was a weapon, in the weird rules of Mount Olympus, her attacks would hit home hard. And godsdamn it, Roxana loved Mason too much to watch him be destroyed because of Hera’s jealousy. She dropped her sword and sprinted towards him. He saw her coming. He never stopped his advance into the room. He seemed determined to protect her. Stupid man. The thought was affectionate, her heart full of love for the most wonderful man she’d ever met. Echidna raced forward, her tail pulled back with the spike ready to strike. Roxana leapt the last five feet between her and Mason. His eyes widened with fear for her as he held his arms out to catch her. She landed in front of him just as the spike struck, the diamond hard tip sliding through the one weak spot in her armor, impaling Roxana.

Pain exploded through her body and blood sprayed out of her mouth at the sudden impact. She stared up into Mason’s green eyes and smiled. “Love you.” Mason’s arms closed around her in a reflexive move that she should have felt, but couldn’t. There was no sensation below her neck, nothing to tell her she wasn’t cut into two. “Get. Out.” She struggled to tell him to leave. “Be safe.” **** Mason couldn’t look away from Roxana’s face, kept waiting for her to give him that cocky smile of hers and bounce back. The thing flying around the room screeched its victory, content with the knowledge that she had Mason right where she wanted him. He paid her no attention. How could he when his Roxana needed him? “No. I’m not leaving you here.” His voice was a gravelly croak. He wanted to cry for the first time since he was a kid. The only color in her face was the blood on her right cheek and droplets of more blood around her mouth. “I love you, you stupid woman. I can’t leave you here.” The ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Have. To.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “Zeus. Family.” The smile disappeared, and a tear slipped down her ruined cheek. “Aki. Take care. Of him.” “Goddammit, Roxana, you’re not going to die! You’re an immortal, remember?” He was highly pissed off at her. She couldn’t give up on him. “Ah, ah, mortal, she isn’t quite immortal,” the monster said chidingly as she circled the room. “She’s part maenad, which means when she loves, she becomes mortal again. Isn’t that right, my sweet little maenad? And you love the godling enough to die for him.” She chirped happily at the unmoving Roxana. “Only a god can grant her immortality, but it’ll be too late, too late,” she sang out. Roxana’s body went completely limp in his arms, her eyelashes little fans on her cheeks. Her armor faded away, leaving her in nothing but a blood-soaked robe. Masons cradled her close, lowering her to the floor. He pressed a hand against her chest. Her heart still beat, but so slowly he had to wait for it. He held his breath between the soft thuds, his own heart thundering in his ears. Her eyes drifted open slightly, gracing him with the sight of her beautiful

bronze eyes. There was so much love in them Mason thought he would die with her. “No, Roxana,” he whispered harshly. “You can’t leave me like this.” He clutched her tighter, trying to lend her some of his strength. “I can’t do this without you!” Her lips twitched in a smile, but her eyes fell shut; and her heart stuttered to a stop. Tears burned his eyes and trickled down his face. No, not when he’d just found her. His heart was nothing more than a gaping hole in his chest, his soul ripped to shreds. Mindless grief gripped him, morphing into rage at the monster above them and the bitch of a goddess who’d brought his proud Roxana to this. He brushed his fingers over her lips and leaned down for one last kiss. “I love you.” The elevator chimed, and Brice sauntered in. The horror and shock on his face would have been comical at any other time, but Mason found he had nothing but grief and screaming anguish in his heart. He pushed to his feet, feeling his body expand as he stared at the monster circling the room with glee. All of his life, he’d held back on his feelings, fearing what would happen if he let his anger and hurt manifest. Now, with Roxana’s body cooling behind him, he opened the floodgates and let the fury he’d always fought so hard against fill him to the brim. The monster eyed him with a sly smile, her serpentine tail coiling around her coyly. “Does the little mortal want to play?” Mason bared his teeth at her. “Brice, take Roxana out of here.” He stepped forward, putting himself between the beast and his woman. “You can’t fight her,” Brice choked out, frozen at the elevator. “She’s the mother of all monsters. She’ll tear you apart.” He gave a negligent shrug. “If she does, I’ll be with Roxana.” He didn’t care anymore. What was the use of immortality if he didn’t have Roxana to spend it with? “Get my woman, and get out of here.” He advanced on the monster, his body poised for a fight. He heard Brice scramble across the room as fast as his big body could. A choked cry escaped the other man as he realized Roxana was gone, but Mason only had eyes for the beast. She floated several feet above the floor, her orange eyes gleaming with satisfaction and anticipation of the fight. The spike on

her tail dripped with Roxana’s blood, a reminder of what she’d done to the woman Mason loved more than life itself. His roar shook the room, causing the plaques on the wall to fall one after the other. The monster looked startled and wary as she edged away from him. Mason didn’t halt his advance. He sensed Brice escaping with Roxana’s limp body in his arms. Finally, he was alone with the beast. He hoped she’d kill him, and he could be with Roxana. He smiled. “Bring it on, bitch.” She flew at him, her spiked tail raised to stab him. Mason reached out and plucked her out of the air like he would a pesky mosquito. She squawked; her talons and claws raked over him, shredding his skin. He didn’t even feel it. Something surged through him, something powerful and deadly, and he aimed it directly at her. It wasn’t the anger lending him strength. It was his strength, his power he used against her. His hands crushed her birdlike bones. Her tail came up and stabbed at him blindly. It went through him and back out without leaving a mark. Her reptilian eyes widened. Mason barely paid attention. He was too busy breaking every bone in her body. She screamed, she struggled, and she fought, but she couldn’t escape him, couldn’t heal the damage he inflicted on her. His eyesight, always sharp, seemed able to pick out the smallest details. He could see her most vulnerable spots, and he exploited them with ease. His hands found the tiny spot where a scale was missing in the center of her chest, and he dug in. He wanted to rip her heart out. It would be little compensation for breaking his, but it would do. He looked around for a weapon. Before the thought was even completed, a dagger appeared in his hand. Too lost in his hatred and pain, Mason didn’t bat an eyelash at its appearance, but the monster did. She shrieked a protest as the knife sliced through her chest. Black blood poured from the wound, coating Mason’s hands and clothing. He absently sent the dagger back where it belonged and reached into her ribcage with his bare hand. The instant he touched her heart, he looked into the monster’s frantic eyes. He saw eyes flashing with green fire reflected back at him from her orange orbs. A strange glow seemed to encompass him. He became aware that his hair floated on an unseen breeze. He focused back on the monster’s terrified expression.

“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” He plucked her heart out of her chest and let her limp body fall to the floor. The organ was black as night. Gore rose in his throat, but he pushed it back. He didn’t know what to do with her heart now that he had it. All the fury had left, to be replaced by a blessed numbness. He dropped the heart at the feet of the crumpled body on the floor. Numb and lost, Mason looked around Roxana’s apartment. Blood coated the walls and soaked the floor. Red and black, the puddles of gore were disgusting testaments to the fierce battle fought here. A sword lay on the floor, the one Roxana had dropped when she’d run to protect him. He stumbled over to the sword, picking it up to cradle in his hands. The blade was highly polished and etched along its length was the name Relentless. The name blurred as tears filled his eyes. Mason blinked them away. Roxana was gone. He’d seen the light in her eyes fade. What did he do now? Roxana’s home was trashed. He should clean it, try to fix it back as nice as it had been. Maybe then he’d crawl back in her bed and surround himself in her scent. He pressed a hand to his chest. Damn, but his heart ached, and his throat was tight. He’d never in his life felt such anguish. Clean Roxana’s house. If he had something to do, he wouldn’t fall apart. He looked back up and stared at the room. Everything was in its place, the blood gone from the lush carpets as though they’d never been there. The monster’s body was still there, though it was now wrapped in some material to keep it from leaking. Mason looked left and right, trying to make heads and tails of what he was seeing. He looked down. Even his clothes were clean again. Maybe it hadn’t happened the way he thought? Maybe he’d been put under some kind of spell? He pushed to his feet, the sword still in his hand. “Roxana?” he called loudly, hopefully. No answer. He walked through the apartment, checking every room for some evidence that this had all been a bad dream, that she wasn’t dead. “Roxana?” His voice was harsh, pleading, but he couldn’t help it. He stopped in her bedroom, the tousled sheets reminding him of the way they’d slept together. Grief hit him like a bolt of lightning to his chest. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Throat burning from trying to hold back his sobs, Mason gasped for breath. He’d never imagined that Roxana would die. Leave him because he annoyed her, maybe, but not leave him permanently. He could have done something to get her back if she’d just left him, but who could cheat death? “What a mess,” a deep voice said from the living room. Mason’s head shot up. He didn’t know the person the voice belonged to, but he didn’t need to. If it wasn’t Aki or Brice, they weren’t welcome. He jumped to his feet, the sword clutched in his hand and murder in his heart. He strode down the hallway and stopped at the entrance to see a man with long blond hair and gray eyes standing over the monster’s body. The guy was huge. He had to be at least seven foot nine, maybe more. He wore a pair of jeans and a ratty AC/DC T-shirt, but there was an air of command and power about him that Mason instantly distrusted. The intruder looked over at Mason, a broad smile on his face. “Mason! I’m so glad to finally meet you!” He came forward with his arms extended. The sword pressed at the base of the massive man’s throat halted him in his tracks. Mason glared up into the eyes of the intruder. “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my woman’s apartment?” One golden eyebrow rose. “Your woman?” He frowned. “You mean Roxana?” He waved a hand that was bigger than Mason’s face. “She’s not your woman. She’s too low-class for you. No, we’ll find you a lovely consort from one of the sprites or nymphs.” He looked around. “Where is Roxana anyway? She was supposed to bring you to the temple, not let you access your power here. I suppose I’ll have to reprimand her. Again.” By the time the man finished talking Mason was in a full rage. “She’s dead, you fucker! Now get out of here before I cut your head off.” The man looked down at Mason, his silver eyes swirling. “I’ll be lenient with you because you’re new to the family, but never, ever threaten me again.” There was power in his voice. Dread trickled through Mason before it was swept aside by contempt. “You’re Zeus.” “I am.”

Mason sneered at his grandfather. “Your bitch of a wife killed Roxana.” A mighty frown crossed Zeus’s face. It would have been a fearsome sight if Mason wasn’t so enraged. The king of gods looked around the apartment, then at the monster on the ground. His jaw ticked. “I didn’t get that memo.” Disbelief filled Mason. “The memo? I just told you your wife had something to do with my woman’s death, and you’re okay with that? How about the fact that she tried to get me killed as well? Did you get a memo on that?” He laughed harshly. “This is priceless.” “What do you mean, tried to kill you? This was part of your test,” Zeus said with a wave towards the monster. “You can’t just go from being a frail human to being immortal, you know. No one gets a free ride in my company, especially family. You had to prove you were a true hero before we could initiate you.” He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course, you weren’t supposed to pull on your powers without supervision. We’ll have to dock your pay for that.” Mason spun away from the asshole, reeling from what he’d found out. “What about Roxana? Was she part of the test?” It didn’t matter if she had been. He loved her, and she’d told him she loved him. “Hm, no, Roxana was merely an escort. She’s usually quite good, and as far as I knew, she wasn’t mortal. That is curious.” The sound of Zeus rubbing his hands together rasped along Mason’s nerves. “Now, let’s get you to the temple. The party’s later tonight, but we have to get you properly clothed and teach you a little about the company.” “I’m not going.” He didn’t get to finish the thought because something knocked him clean out. As he fell to the floor, his last thought was as soon as he woke up he was going to kill his grandfather.

Chapter Twenty-One Roxana looked at the massive doors leading to Erebus. She didn’t want to go through them, but she felt compelled to. Was this what humans felt when they died? She didn’t like it at all. The last thing she remembered was the look on Mason’s face as he told her he loved her. Her heart sang even now remembering it. He loved her. And she loved him. That was why she’d thrown herself between him and death. She couldn’t let him die, not when he could bring so much good to the company and the world. She’d see him again, eventually, she was sure. A small tug on her hand brought her attention down from the granite doors. A child stood next to her, his black hair falling into his bronze eyes. He was a sturdy boy with a strong body. Roxana blinked down at him. “Who are you?” He gave her a gap-toothed smile. “I’m your son.” Her eyes fluttered open and closed so fast, she thought she was having a fit. “I-I don’t have children,” she whispered to the beautiful boy. “’Cause you ain’t had me yet.” He made a face at her that suggested her intelligence was lacking. “I hafta bring you to the below place first.” “The below place?” Roxana didn’t need him to tell her she sounded like an idiot. She knew she did, but what else was a woman to do? “Erebus?” “Yeah, that place.” He tugged on her hand, leading her towards the massive doors. “But I’m dead; I can’t … have you if I’m dead.” He rolled his eyes. “Just listen to the lady when she comes, and you’ll be okay. Okay?” “What lady?” Now she was getting pissed off. If this really was her son, he was a little shit who needed a paddling. He sighed so deeply, his small shoulders heaved. He sounded just like Mason. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” Roxana narrowed her eyes on him, but he only grinned again. “If I…if you…If this is all true, then expect to be punished sometime in the future.”

His bottom lip popped out in a pout that made her heart melt. He blinked his big eyes up at her. “Do I gots to be punished? I’m just doing what the lady told me.” It was the tremble in his lip. It broke her, and she looked away before she could laugh. Who knew death could be so entertaining? “I’ll think about it.” “Okay!” He skipped forward, towing her down the trail towards Charon’s domain. What lady was the child talking about, and how in the hell was Roxana supposed to have a kid when she was dead? She shuddered. She was not letting anyone raise her as a zombie. Her lip curled. Zombies were cool in movies, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be one. The granite doors opened before they could reach them. The child disappeared between one step and the next. Roxana stood before the entrance to Erebus, not as a welcome relative, but as a new resident. She peeked through the doorway, seeing that Erebus looked completely different dead as it did when she was alive. The skies were blue, the sand white instead of black. Even the River Styx looked normal for the river of hate. Instead of the oily black water she was used to, it was sparkling and clear. “Weird.” Charon appeared on the bank in front of her, studying his fingernails. He wore a black silk shirt and black slacks. His hair was pulled back in a queue at the base of his neck. He sighed. “Welcome to Erebus, also known as the Underworld. You have shuffled off your mortal coil and been sent here for judgment by Lord Hades.” He still didn’t look up. “If you’ll pass payment, I will— ” He looked up, then down, then up again. His eyes widened, and his face paled. “What-What…Roxana?” She gave him an embarrassed smile. “I died.” For a second, she thought he might faint. He reached out a hand to grab the edge of the door, his eyes going over her again and again. Roxana looked down and sighed. She really wasn’t fond of chitons, especially when they were stained with her blood. The gauzy outfit was so plain and boring, although the bold splash of red across the front added some color. Then she sneered at the plain leather sandals on her feet. There was a reason she was a fashionista, she

thought grumpily. It was because she’d hated the clothing of her youth. Charon spluttered, his face gaining too much color now. He appeared purple, and his eyes looked as though they were about to pop out of his skull. “Y-you can’t die! You’re an Enforcer! You’ve lived for over three thousand years. There’s been a mistake.” He reached in his pocket for his phone. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.” Roxana strode forward and placed her hand on his, stilling his movements. He was very hot to the touch, as opposed to her frozen skin. She hadn’t realized she was so cold until she touched him. She let her hand drop because she could feel his life, and it made her jealous, dammit. “I was killed by Echidna. There’s been no mistake.” He blinked at her. “What did you do to Echidna? I thought she was a hired hit—” His eyes widened then narrowed. “That bitch!” She shrugged. “She did what she thought she had to, I suppose.” She wasn’t going to spend an eternity bemoaning that like some ghost. She rolled her eyes. “Mason didn’t come through here, did he?” Charon shook his head, a frown forming between his eyebrows. “No, but we all felt him pull his power into himself a little while ago. He’s very nearly a full immortal. I still don’t understand how you died.” He reached out to touch her, but pulled his hand back when she shied away. His hands curled into fists. “Why didn’t Mason protect you?” Her smile was bigger, more natural this time. “He was still mortal when I, um, bit it. He must’ve called the power when I, er, died.” “How did you die?” His bellow echoed off the cliffs surrounding the Styx. Roxana’s smile withered, and she glared up at her friend. “Will you be quiet? I don’t want everyone and their mother to know.” “Did you lose your mind when you died, woman? If you don’t think Hades—” A column of fire and smoke erupted next to them, and Hades strode out of it, his eyes lit like Hephaestus’s eternally raging forge. “What the hell happened?” he demanded of Roxana, pulling her into his arms.

For the first time since dying – gods, she hated that word – tears filled her eyes. “Um, I died.” She felt like such an idiot! “I know that much, little one. How did you die?” “Um, Echidna was about to stab Mason, and I threw myself in front of him.” She had to speak loudly over his curses. He pushed her away from him, his gaze searching her face. His expression cleared. “You love him.” For a dead woman, she sure could still blush! She dropped her eyes to stare at her toes. She should’ve had a pedicure two weeks ago. She was going to spend her entire afterlife with ugly toes. Hades shook her slightly. “Answer me, Roxana.” She cleared her throat. “Yes.” It was a whisper of sound, but she knew he and Charon heard. “Why does that matter?” “If I had known there was a chance that you would fall in love with the godling, I would’ve told you.” Hades’s voice was filled with regret. He wrapped her up in his big arms like he used to when she was young. “Ah, gods, what a stupid thing to do, Roxana. We could’ve come up with a different plan.” His arms squeezed her tight, and his big body trembled. It was very touching, but her mind was hooked on his words. Roxana pushed away and glared up at her uncle. “What do you mean? He’s a good man.” Charon stepped forward. “You’re part maenad, Roxana. When a maenad loves deeply, truly, she becomes, well, mortal unless she’s granted immortality by a god. Your mother—” Roxana glared at him stonily. He rolled his eyes. “Your mother loved someone before your father, but he didn’t love her back. She conceived you and Akakios while in a frenzy.” “Old news,” Roxana mumbled, moving away from Charon and Hades. She hated the look of sincerity on his face. Her mother had been mortal; she knew that. “You killed her that day, Roxana.” She turned her eyes wide with shock. She shook her head. “No, I didn’t. She was on the ground, but she wasn’t dead.” Hades nodded. “You did kill her. No one blamed you for protecting Akakios, but she did die; and Dionysus brought her back.” Holy shit, she’d killed her mother! No wonder Galene hated her so much! She glared at Charon and Hades. “This would have been nice to know … I don’t know, maybe three thousand years ago!”

“There was no point to telling you then.” “So the point now is to torture me for eternity with the knowledge that I killed my own mother? That I committed matricide? And that I died because I’m a dumbass?” She was screeching at them now. “No, you idiot girl, they’re telling you so you know the chances of returning to your beloved Mason are in your favor.” The female voice, cold and impersonal, came from nowhere and everywhere. Charon looked freaked out, and Hades’s face paled. “Shit,” the god of the Underworld whispered. The air was split by a sonic boom, and a flash of blue light nearly blinded Roxana. She blinked away the spots the light left in her vision. Standing in the center of the triangle formed by Roxana, Hades, and Charon, was a diminutive woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with golden hair that fell to her waist in gentle waves. Her slightly elfin features seemed familiar, but Roxana couldn’t quite place her. Eyes the color of the rainbow surveyed Roxana with amused disdain that immediately set her back up. “Who the hell are you?” “Uh, Roxana,” Hades choked out, his hand moving across his throat in the universal “cut it” gesture. The woman looked up at Hades with a reproving expression, and he immediately dropped his hands and tried to look innocent. “How many times have I told you not to speak until you know what you’re going to say? You sound idiotic when you say ‘uh’ and ‘um’.” He dropped his head. “Sorry.” Charon edged away from the little woman, with a green tint to his face. “Charon.” He stopped walking and bowed. “My lady.” “You need a haircut.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.” Roxana frowned at Charon and Hades. They treated this unknown woman like a queen. She stared hard at her, trying to place her. “Who are you?” Those rainbow colored eyes settled on Roxana again. “Why, I’m Mason’s great-grandmother, Rhea.”

She felt faint. The scenery actually swayed as Roxana absorbed the shock of the woman’s announcement. Rhea…mother of six of the gods including Zeus, Hera, and Poseidon. Rhea, the goddess who’d helped Zeus bring about the fall of the original board members, the Titans. She was fertility, motherhood, and all-knowing. She was more powerful than the twelve Olympic gods, and no one fucked with her. “Do you mind if I sit?” Her whisper was barely out before she plopped to the ground with her head in her hands. She’d insulted Rhea. Oh gods. Rhea snapped her fingers, and Roxana went from sitting in the sand, to sitting on a comfortable sofa. She lifted her head. Rhea had moved them to a new location. It looked like a temple, but it was hard to tell with all the doilies. Doilies! The floral-patterned sofa she sat on was deep and plush and matched the busy décor of the domicile. “This is my inner room at my temple,” Rhea said from her perch on the other side of a large coffee table. “I enjoy my peace and quiet too much these days to bother with politics. Usually.” She smiled at Roxana. If you could call a sharp display of teeth a smile. “Tea?” “Um.” Rhea glared at her, and she suddenly remembered the elder goddess hated when people sounded like idiots. She’s just gonna love me then. “I…sure.” Another snap of Rhea’s fingers, and a large tea service appeared on the table between them. Rhea poured and measured sugar and milk in Roxana’s cup before passing it over. Roxana stared into her tea, trying to ignore the blood-stained chiton she wore and her dusty feet. She was having tea with Rhea! It was like how humans would feel having tea with the queen, but bigger. “This is lovely,” Rhea said as she sat back to sip her tea. Roxana noticed that the goddess’s feet didn’t touch the ground and found that remarkably funny. “So, you and Mason, hm? That is interesting.” Roxana cleared her throat. “We’re not an item, my lady.” “He seems to think you are.” The teacup rattled on the saucer, but Roxana pretended not to notice. “Oh?” Rhea waved her hand a sphere appeared above the table. In it, she saw Mason frowning at his relatives and ignoring the sprites who

were trying to feel beneath his peplos. Those sluts! Roxana glared at them until Rhea cleared her throat. “Look at him, Roxana.” She glared at the whores one last time before staring at Mason’s face. Her heart broke a little at the sight. He looked tired. Power surrounded him, so he’d been inducted into the company, but he looked miserable. His green eyes were red-rimmed, his face pale, and worn. “How long have I been…” “Dead?” Rhea asked with a cheerful lilt. “About ten hours, I suppose.” Ten hours? It had only felt like fifteen minutes. Eternity was going to seriously blow if time passed that slowly for the dead. She trained her gaze on Mason, drinking in his beautiful face. She sighed. Light sparked in his eyes for a split second before disappearing beneath a wave of anguish as he saw someone in the crowd. People moved out of the way as Akakios and Brice appeared with the Furies at their sides. Mason walked forward to meet him, brushing past all the women who preened to catch his eye. Aki limped towards Mason, looking like something that barely breathed. His skin was white as paste, his face bruised almost beyond recognition, and various bandages covered his body. “Ah, Akakios,” Rhea murmured softly. “Such a lovely young man. You did well in the raising of him, Roxana. Once I was able to discover who was poisoning him, he grew into a very healthy male, didn’t he?” Roxana tore her eyes away from the sphere, distracted. “Poisoning him?” “Hm, yes. It seems others in the company were not so pleased with his continued health. I’ve since dissuaded them from their attempts to end his life.” Rhea beamed. “He’s perfectly fine now though.” Her hand clenched into tight fists. All this time, someone had been poisoning her brother? Fury detonated like a hydrogen bomb in the pit of her stomach. She was going to kill some motherfuckers. “Who was it?” The question was asked in a low, lethal tone that caused Rhea’s eyebrows to arch. She studied Roxana carefully. “I’d rather not say at the moment.”

It was stupid to challenge a goddess with Rhea’s powers, but Roxana couldn’t help herself. She needed retribution for her brother’s suffering. Fuck, she needed it for herself! “Who?” Rhea sniffed. “I’m not telling. You’ll just kill them, and I’m afraid they’re needed in the next phase of my plan for world domination. You’ll just have to forget about it for now.” Well, didn’t that just beat all? Roxana shook her head in disbelief. Someone in the company had been poisoning her brother, and Rhea wouldn’t even tell her who it was. Roxana eyed the goddess with an expert eye. If she were alive and corporeal, she’d…probably leave the tiny goddess alone. There was something about Rhea that shouted, “I would gladly kill you and wear your skull as a hat.” “Oh, look, they’re greeting each other.” Rhea clapped her hands with an excited bounce. Glad to have something else to think about instead of a second death at Rhea’s hands, Roxana her attention back to the sphere to see Aki approach Mason. They grasped each other’s forearms and exchanged one of those hugs men seemed to do naturally. A tear slipped down Aki’s cheek, and Roxana felt her own eyes welling. She wished she could reach out and touch the most important men in her life. “You have her?” Mason asked Brice his white-knuckled grip clenching the cloth of Aki’s peplos. “She’s being prepared for burial.” Zeus stood near Mason and the small group, Hera at his side. She looked nervous, though no one paid her the least amount of attention. Hades, Persephone, and Hephaestus were clumped together in the far corner of the temple, their faces reflecting their own grief. “You can’t leave the ceremony,” Zeus said in a self-important tone when Mason moved as though to walk out. Roxana watched her man’s face turn stony, his hands clench into tighter fists. “Did I ask your permission, old man?” Gods and sprites scattered, leaving an empty space between Mason and his group and Zeus and Hera. Roxana shook her head. “Oh gods, he’s toast.” “I like him,” Rhea said with a snap of her fingers. A large bowl of popcorn appeared between them. She grabbed a handful of kernels and sat back with a happy sigh. “This is so much better than the soaps I used to watch.”

Roxana blinked at the goddess before turning back to the scene unfolding in front of them. She didn’t want Mason to ruin his chances of having a future on Olympus. “Ooh, I love this part!” Rhea chortled as she sat forward. “Watch Hera’s face.” Zeus sighed, running a hand over his face. “Mason, I’ve told you before, you can’t disrespect the throne of power. You are here only at my indulgence. Now, forget about the Enforcer, and come meet one of Hera’s sprites.” He gave a magnanimous smile and waved forward a beautiful, dainty female. Mason barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? Do you think I’d trust one of those bitches not to try to take me out the second I have my back turned?” He snorted. “You’re far braver than I am, grandfather, with that witch in your bed.” Roxana covered her face, sure she was about to see Mason turned into a slug or flattened by a boulder or something. Rhea was laughing like a loon. Popcorn spilled out of her hand as she rocked from side to side with glee. “Did you see her face? Oh gods! She still thinks her shit doesn’t stink, that one.” Shocked, Roxana looked at the mother goddess who wiped tears from her eyes. “W-what? Isn’t Hera your daughter?” “Eh, yeah, unfortunately.” Her lips turned down in a sour frown. “She was always a power-grubbing little bitch. It’s because her domain is over marriage, you know. She’s bitter when she sees other people have good marriages. I told her Zeus wasn’t right for her, being her brother and all, but nooo, Hera knows all.” She rolled her eyes. “She’s a terrible mother, as well, expects perfection from everyone except herself. Ooh, this is another good part!” “How dare you malign my wife in such a matter?” Zeus bellowed, real anger springing to life in his lightning bolt eyes. Teensy stepped forward, her own anger spewing forth. “I should call forth the hunt on your precious wife, Zeus, king of the gods. She has killed one of your most faithful retainers!” Hera gasped and stepped forward her face a perfect mask of outrage. “I never laid a single hand on Roxana!” Mason’s growl made her take a half-step back. “No, you were very careful not to dirty your hands, but we know you were involved, and because of you, my woman is dead!”

Roxana bawled. She loved that big, stupid man. “He’ll get himself killed, the stupid ass.” Rhea shoved a tissue in Roxana’s hand and sat back again. “Maybe. I don’t think so, but you never know.” “I have proof of Hera’s treachery.” Allie stepped forward with a smug smile. “I interrogated the lamia who kidnapped Akakios Melanos.” Roxana didn’t have to wonder how Allie interrogated someone. She nagged them to death until she found out what she wanted. A small smile lit her face as she watched her friends drive the nails home in Hera’s coffin. Allie snapped her fingers, and a harpy appeared with a lamia clutched in her talons. The beautiful winged woman gave a little salute to Allie and flew out again. She grabbed the lamia by her hair, dragging her to her feet. “Tell His Majesty what you told me, Xychxana.” Roxana watched, completely stunned, as the snake sang like a canary. Her hissing lisp was annoying as all hell, but she told her story without stumbling once. She also avoided looking at Hera, whose face grew paler with every word uttered. Zeus looked impassive and unimpressed, which worried Roxana. Zeus waved his hand for the lamia to stop talking when she got to the part about kidnapping Akakios. “I know all of this, Alecto. My wife performed her duty by testing young Mason to prove his suitability to join the company.” The Furies’ mouths dropped open in utter shock. “Regardless of what kind of test was given to me, Roxana did not need to pay the price.” Mason’s voice was choked. A single tear rolled down his cheek. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.” “She didn’t finish her assignment, and therefore, she failed. Her death is a suitable punishment for failing to deliver you to my temple on time,” Zeus answered with a smug smile. Roxana didn’t pay attention to Zeus’s bullshit; she still reeled from his assurance that Hera’s attack on Mason was part of a trial. She looked at Rhea. “Not a single godling has been tested in two thousand years! They can’t reinstitute old practices for one mortal and not the rest!”

Rhea nodded. “My point precisely, my dear. That’s why I’m offering you my patronage.” Roxana gasped, and Rhea nodded again, a benign smile on her face. “I know, it is marvelous, isn’t it?” Marvelous? It was amazing! She smiled, but it quickly died. No one gave something for nothing. “What do I need to do?” The goddess shook her head. “You’re so suspicious, dear. Do you see how many people actually care for you?” She waved her hand back at the sphere. Roxana looked again and saw that the little group around Mason had expanded to include Hermes, god of travel and messengers, Dionysus, god of wine, ecstasy and ritual madness, Athena, goddess of wisdom and warfare, Damocles – she shot a surprised look at Rhea who winked – Adonis, Atlas, all risen heroes she’d helped usher to Olympus, plus several of the Charities and Muses, as well as a massive bronze figure. Father? The group grew until Zeus, Hera, and Hera’s disciples were the only ones left on their side of the room. Tears spilled again as she watched the executives standing up for her. She’d worked for each of them at some point or another; their managers were once mortals she’d escorted to their immortality. Zeus’ face was dark as a thundercloud. “You’re all turning against me?” Mason shook his head, his shoulders bowed with exhaustion. “No, grandfather. We have no beef with you, but with the viper who lets her jealousy and hatred destroy good people.” Hera gasped. “Well, I never! Are you going to let that bastard talk to me that way?” she demanded of her husband. There was a light in Zeus’ eyes as though he were weighing the odds. Roxana knew what he was thinking without being psychic: if all of his children and their children should choose to overthrow him, he wouldn’t stand a chance. So either he made a stand, or he would throw Hera under the bus. He sighed. “What punishment would be acceptable to you, my grandson?” Hera screeched. “You bastard! You never stand up for me! You’re always more concerned about what they think about you. I’m your wife! I’ve borne your children and tended your home for eons!” “Yes, you are, and you have. Then you try to have my grandchildren killed. I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to face

punishment for this. I won’t lose the throne because of you.” He looked over at Mason. “I can’t let you kill her. She’s my wife, and I love her in spite of her many flaws, so choose your punishment wisely.” The Furies descended on Mason, their heads bent together as they conferred. The whispered discussion lasted at least ten minutes. The occasional glare towards Hera told Roxana her man and best friends were devising one hell of a punishment for Hera. Rhea reached over and patted Roxana’s hands. Finally, the mini-meeting broke up. All conversations in the temple died as Mason faced his grandfather and his murderous stepgrandmother. “Hera will have to serve a hundred years on earth as a marriage counselor in her full-time job and a day care attendant in her off-time. No powers, no return trips to Olympus, no contact with any employees in the company. She’s allowed to take one assistant with her to help her acclimate to living as a mortal.” Mason’s words echoed through the temple, each edict leeching a little more color from Hera’s face and earning a gleam of interest from Zeus. Meg stepped forward and whispered something in his ear. Mason nodded. “And she’ll have to live on what she earns. She can’t make her assistant do the work for her and take her paycheck. Tisiphone will drop in from time-to-time to make sure Hera is following her punishment.” Zeus pondered the punishment before speaking. “I reserve the option of having conjugal visits with her on occasion.” There was an outburst of laughter, and Zeus raised his hand. “I agree to these terms, but I want to include one provision.” He gestured a couple of Cyclopes forward to hold Hera still and keep her quiet. Once that was done, he looked back at Mason, his face hard. “If I agree to these terms, you will marry and provide heirs of your father’s line. You will mate with an immortal.” Roxana almost died again. She’d known Zeus would require Mason to get married. It was one of his most popular methods of gaining more power. She’d just thought Mason – and she – would have more time to accept their separation. Rhea squeezed Roxana’s hands tightly. “This is where you decide if you love that man enough to return to life as my disciple.”

She held up a hand when Roxana opened her mouth to ask what she’d have to do. “I won’t tell you until after the agreement is given, my dear. Consider it an act of faith that whatever I do request will be for my benefit as well as yours.” Roxana looked back at Mason, who looked just as torn as she felt. If he agreed with his grandfather’s edict, he would have to marry someone he didn’t love, but if he didn’t agree, Hera would get off scot free. Roxana wanted to be with Mason more than anything. She wanted a future with him, but she feared what she would be required to do. What if Rhea asked for her first child as a sacrifice? She glanced at Rhea’s rainbow colored eyes. She didn’t feel threatened by Rhea. Yeah, she was a scary bitch, but she didn’t seem unfair. Roxana looked back at the sphere and her family: Mason, Aki, the Furies, Brice, Hades, Persephone, and Charon. Decision made, she fell to her knees in front of Rhea and bowed her head. “I would be honored if you would accept me as a disciple, my lady.”

Chapter Twenty-Two “Ow, ow, ow,” Roxana groaned as she landed back in her physical body with a thud. “I never said it wouldn’t hurt,” Rhea said in a cheerful tone that made Roxana seriously consider strangling her. “You can’t strangle me now. We’re almost family!” She ripped off the gauzy fabric covering her face to glare at the goddess sitting on the slab next to her. It took a lot of effort to sit up, but Roxana waved off that concern. She had been dead for most of the day; her body was bound to be a bit stiff. She snickered. “Do I have my powers back?” she asked her goddess in a quivery voice. Rhea frowned. “Of course.” “Oh, thank goddess!” Roxana snapped her fingers, the hated chiton replaced by her vintage Dior gown. She wanted to look good for her man. She sighed happily and looked down to her feet. She really needed a pedicure. Nausea roiled up her throat, and she leaned over to vomit on the floor. Oh, gods, was this part of the resurrection process? ‘Cause it sucks so much. She rested her head against the cold slab as she tried to get the world to right itself again. She moaned, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Oh, right. I forgot.” Rhea snapped her fingers and patted Roxana on the back. “You’re pregnant.” Black dots danced in front of Roxana’s eyes as she swayed on the burial platform. Pregnant. She was pregnant. She glanced down at her belly. She was pregnant? “H-H-How? I was dead.” “Hello? Goddess of fertility and motherhood, here. Your body was just in stasis until you made your decision. You were dead, but had just enough life to sustain a baby.” She looked pleased with herself. The nausea churned again, but she forced it down. She was stronger than this. She hoped. “Why?” Her voice was a hoarse croak as the implications whipped through her. She was going to give birth. From everything she’d seen of labor, it was unpleasant and left a woman sweaty and singularly unattractive. Gods! The little boy she’d met on her way to Erebus! She pressed her hand to her stomach in fear and awe. She was going

to give birth to a little beast! Gods, she was going to kill her new goddess. The goddess grabbed a lock of her hair and twirled it around her finger. “Well, I can’t tell you everything, you understand.” Rhea sent her a guileless smile, though her eyes shifted to the left. “But I have a plan; don’t you worry.” She couldn’t help but gape at the madwoman who was now her goddess. She would be giving birth to that impish little boy in nine months. Mason was going to shit a brick. “Mason!” She tried to jump off the platform, but her stomach protested the quick movement, leaving her swaying. It took several moments before the nausea calmed down enough for her to move even an inch. “This is ridiculous!” she snarled as she eased herself to the ground. “Look at my dress!” She’d managed to dirty the front of her gown and quickly changed again. Rhea beamed. “You look adorable, my dear! You may want to find some maternity clothes soon though. Wouldn’t want to go popping out at anyone and everyone you see.” Roxana snarled. She was nauseated and just a little dizzy and thoroughly pissed off. She supposed waking up dead and finding out you were pregnant could do that to a person. Rhea was lucky Roxana was more concerned about getting to Mason before he agreed to marry some whore. “Where’s my man?” “This way, my dear,” Rhea chirped and floated away sure in the knowledge that Roxana would follow. The whole affair seemed fishy to her. Rhea had never shown any interest in Roxana, but if the goddess was to be believed, she’d taken care of Akakios and now she’d brought Roxana back to life. There was a bigger picture here, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what it was. Her stomach protested as she swung her head from left to right quickly. Okay, this pregnancy thing was going to suck ass. Then she paused as the ramifications hit her. There really was a baby in there! She had to suppress the urge to play with her belly. There would be plenty of time for that, she decided as she followed Rhea. She had several months to go before the baby was born. A beautiful little boy with her eyes and Mason’s hair. She sniffed. They entered the elevator, and Roxana tapped the toe of her knee-high boots on the floor. She wanted to see Mason now. She

wanted to tell him about the baby. She pressed a hand to her mouth as she belched. Gods, she’d kill for some soda and crackers right now. She sensed Rhea’s amusement and snapped. “Don’t laugh.” “Sorry, dear. I forgot how it was for pregnant women since it’s been so long since I had a child.” She was silent for a few seconds as they rode to the penthouse business suite at the top of Mount Olympus. “Don’t you want to know what I require for service?” Roxana shrugged. “I do, but it won’t change my mind. I love Mason too much to abandon him because I’m a coward.” She remembered what he’d said about her…the day before? It felt as though it had been years ago. “He said I run away from people, won’t let them close because I’m too scared of being hurt. He was right, so I’m not going to be a coward anymore.” “Well, that’s wonderful.” Small, dainty arms wrapped around Roxana’s waist since that was about how tall Rhea was. “I only require that you and your family visit me once a week, or allow me to visit once a week,” Rhea said as she pulled away. “I’m a second generation CEO of this company, but everyone forgets about us. This will be the first time I’ve seen Zeus in, well, at least four thousand years.” Roxana was outraged for Rhea. “That ingrate!” “Exactly. So I’m going to enjoy walking into that room with one of the next generation as my disciple.” She beamed at Roxana. “Thank you.” Roxana was stunned. The next generation of what? Could Rhea mean she planned to make Roxana one of the CEOs? That was impossible! Only gods and goddesses held those positions of power. The sly look in Rhea’s eyes though, suggested impossible was not in her vocabulary. The elevator dinged wiping all thought from her mind. Roxana’s anticipation rose. She wanted to kick ass and take names. She’d be lucky if she made it across the room to her man without stopping and gnawing someone’s arm off. She rubbed her stomach. “I’m starving.” Weird how she’d gone from nauseated to starving. Rhea patted her arm. “I’ll make sure Mason gets you a plate as soon as this is over with, trust me.” The doors slid open. ****

Mason was tired of the bullshit. Zeus had knocked him out, cleaned him up, fed him, and then proceeded to browbeat him into attending this party. The purpose? To introduce Mason to all the dainty pretties who wanted to be the consort of Zeus’s grandson. It didn’t have anything to do with Mason, only his position in the company. And now this. Aki gripped his shoulder. “Roxana would want revenge on Hera, Mason.” He nodded because he knew it to be true. His Roxana would’ve wanted Hera boiled alive and served to the party guests. A small smile pulled at his mouth. God, he missed her! How could he possibly imagine marrying some waifish thing when all he wanted was his giantess? Mason looked up to see Zeus tapping his foot. Damn. “Well?” Zeus asked after Mason stalled for at least fifteen minutes. I love you, Roxana. He opened his mouth to answer his grandfather. A sudden commotion in the back of the group disrupted his answer, and Mason grasped at the distraction like a lifeline. He swung around to see gods and goddesses leaping away from someone. Mason went still. There was a flash of scarlet as whoever it was wove their way through the crowd. Shocked whispers rippled across the room sounding like a serpent’s hiss until it reached the front where Mason stood. His ears only picked up the word, “Rhea” whispered over and over again. Movement behind him distracted him from the approaching woman. Zeus looked decidedly uneasy, and Hera looked as though she’d swallowed a sword sideways. Whoever Rhea was, the king and his wife were deathly afraid of her. Mason turned back to see more and more people shoved out of the way. The flash of scarlet became a beacon his hungry eyes followed. He knew it was impossible. Roxana was gone. He’d sat with her body for hours while waiting for this stupid party. He’d whispered his love, cried over her cold hand and kissed her cold lips. He looked down to get his emotions under control. Then he felt Akakios and the Furies freeze next to him. Their shock rippled through him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

Trying not to hope for a miracle, Mason lifted his eyes and beheld a tiny woman with golden hair and rainbow-colored eyes charging through the crowd. But it was the woman who stood head and shoulders above Rainbow Brite whom Mason’s gaze fixed on. She looked like Roxana. Almost. She looked a little pale, and she kept pressing her fingers to her lips as though holding back a gag. She also looked softer, though there was a familiar, cranky cast to her eyes as she glared at the people in her way. Then she caught sight of him. She stopped dead in her tracks, her chest lifting as she took a visibly deep breath. Mason blinked at the smile that crossed her face. She looked lit up from within. Her bronze eyes sparkled with tears, the tip of her nose turned pink. “Mason!” Her shriek nearly felled him. He could only watch in shock as she hurried towards him. She nearly ran over the tiny woman in front of her. “Move it, Rhea!” She gave Rhea a healthy push forward. Everyone gasped, but Rhea only let loose with a laugh that sounded like tinkling china. She stepped out of Roxana’s way. Just in time, too, because his formerly dead love rushed forward and threw herself in Mason’s arms. He caught her reflexively, still not sure what to make of everything. The familiar scent of pralines teased his nostrils, and the way she fit against him was exactly the same. His heart thundered, and blood roared passed his eardrums. This couldn’t be. It was some kind of cruel fucking joke, and he’d kill the bastard who put it in play, but first, he wanted to dream a little longer. “Rox–” His words were cut off by her mouth. She kissed him enthusiastically, and she tasted exactly the same as he remembered, except for the added taste of tears. Her little sobbing breaths tore him up inside. Her strong hands scored his scalp, and that was when he knew this was his Roxana. His arms snapped closed around her as he lifted her off the ground. Their mouths fused together in a desperate kiss that transcended every other kiss they’d shared in their short, strange relationship. It was a melding of their souls. They forgot about Zeus and Hera and the hundreds of other employees of Olympus, Inc. who watched their reunion. They forgot everything except how much they loved each other.

It seemed like Roxana’s arms nearly strangled Mason in her sharp desire to get closer to him. Mason didn’t flinch. He held her even tighter. He pulled back from the kiss looking into her bright eyes. She was alive! His heart hurt from his pleasure at seeing her alive and breathing. Even if she did look a little green around the gills. He frowned. “What happened? Are you hurt?” The misery etched on her face left him in a panic. He wouldn’t allow her to hurt ever again. Not after holding her cooling body in his arms. “Roxana? What’s wrong?” She blushed fiery red, shooting a glare at Rhea who stood to the side smirking. “We’re having a baby. Well, I’m having a baby. Your baby. Our baby.” Her hands came over her belly, and she frowned down at it. “A little boy with your hair, my eyes, and our size. He’s a right little bastard, too.” Mason could only thank the gods Akakios and Brice were so close because he almost hit the floor in his shock. He stared at Roxana’s stomach. He was going to be a father? She was pregnant with his child? But how? “Why do you look sick? Am I gross? Did I puke on myself and didn’t notice?” She looked down and back up at him. “This is your damn fault, Mason Landry!” She poked him in the chest, pushing him back a step. “You knocked me up, and you’d better damn well think I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen in your life.” Poke. “’Cause if you don’t, I will castrate you!” Poke, poke. “Roxana, dear, perhaps you could give him a few minutes to get over his shock?” the diminutive woman suggested sweetly. Mason would be eternally grateful to her. His pregnant woman sniffed as tears filled her eyes. “He looks horrified.” Her bottom lip trembled. “And I’m starving!” Aki once again came to Mason’s rescue. He approached his sister as some people would approach a wild tiger. “Roxy…” his voice wobbled a little before he cleared his throat. In an instant, Roxana went from weepy to joy. “Aki!” She threw herself in her brother’s arms, hugging him fiercely. “I was so worried about you!” She pushed back and looked him over. Rage kindled to life in her eyes. “Teensy, tell me you killed those bitches.” The Furies chuckled, surrounding their friend.

“You know it, you slut,” Teensy said with an eye on Roxana’s still-flat waistline. “Slut? Excuse me? Weren’t you the one caught with—” Teensy slapped her hand over Roxana’s mouth. “You promised not to mention that ever again.” She sent a guarded look to Aki. Aki glared at the raven-haired woman, making Mason wonder what had happened between the two of them during the rescue mission. Meg pushed forward to touch Roxana’s stomach, breaking the eye contact between Teensy and Aki. “I can’t believe you’re gonna have a baby before me, you bitch.” Roxana’s bronze eyes rolled. “You don’t want children.” Meg glared. “But I—” Allie cut her off. “Didn’t you say you’d rather jump off a skyscraper than have a child?” “Well, yeah, but—” “And didn’t you make a deal with a witch about five centuries ago?” Teensy added, studiously ignoring Aki. Meg folded her arms and looked away from her sisters. “Well as entertaining as this has been,” Zeus said as he moved towards them with Hera at his side, “Since it’s obvious Roxana is not dead, the punishment is no longer necessary.” Various protests arose around the room. No one sounded happy that Hera would get off without punishment. Mason almost didn’t care. He had Roxana back. He wasn’t sure how she was alive, but she was. He dragged her into his arms, and everything else was immaterial. But she was clearly determined to see Hera pay. She snarled. “That bitch deserves to be thrown in Tartarus for what she did!” Zeus puffed up with indignation. “You will hold your tongue, Enforcer, or I’ll have you thrown in Tartarus!” “Blow it out your ass!” Mason sighed. He really hoped pregnancy wouldn’t turn an already bitchy Roxana into Queen Bitch of the Universe. He squeezed her tight. Oh, hell, what did it matter? She was alive and his. He turned back to his grandfather.

Lightning flashed across the ceiling, and a strange wind swept through the room. Everyone scattered except Roxana’s ragtag group. They stood united before Zeus’s fury. “I will have you—” “You’ll do nothing,” a calm voice said, and everyone turned to Rhea. She pointed a finger at Hera. “Your wife broke several company policies in her bid for revenge.” She raised her hand palm up. “Shut it. You can try to fool my moron of a son, but I know better.” Zeus spluttered, and Mason was glad to see his grandfather being put in his place. He looked at the tiny woman who was his great-grandmother. Roxana hugged his waist and offered him a sweet smile. Who cared who else was related to him? He kissed her softly. “Regardless of…of that, the fact remains that Roxana Melanos is not dead, and therefore the punishment is no longer required.” Hera nodded at Zeus’s statement, her smile smug. Rhea shook her head. “I’m afraid that won’t work. I tagged Roxana as one of my disciples before her death, which means when she died before her time and initiation, I lost a valuable disciple.” Rhea smiled like a cat staring at a canary. “As the goddess she has pledged herself to, I require reparation, and it is my demand that the punishment go forth as planned.” “You can’t do that!” Hera screeched at her mother. Rhea’s eyebrow rose. “Oh? Would you prefer me to decide punishment? Perhaps even call in the other Titans? We are still members of the Board of Directors for this corporation, are we not?” She bared very sharp, white teeth at Hera. “I assure you, our punishment would be a lot worse than what my great-grandson has decided upon. You’ve played in the wrong sandbox for the last time, daughter. I tend to take exception to ignorant heifers interfering with my plans. Do we understand each other?” Hera’s face paled. She looked around at the hostile faces around her. “Y-yes. I will…” she swallowed with difficulty and clenched her hands together. “I will submit to punishment. But what will happen to my division while I’m gone?” “We will find a replacement.” Rhea waved away Hera’s concerns and glanced at Zeus. “As for you, you will perform a wedding ceremony for my disciple and my great-grandson, so that my great-great-grandson is not born a bastard. Is that understood?”

There was a glint in her multi-hued eyes that scared Mason. In spite of her size, she looked to be a woman with an iron will and the strength to back it up. Zeus ran a hand through his hair. “Fine, fine.” “I’ve arrived!” a deep voice boomed throughout the room as the door slammed open. His grandfather sighed and rolled his eyes skyward. “Heracles, the party was scheduled for seven. It’s now eleven-thirty.” This was his father? Mason stared at the big man moving through the crowd as slowly as a mountain. He winked at various nymphs and sprites as he headed towards Zeus. The man was enormous, nearly as tall as Zeus with the broad shoulders of a warrior. Thick, black hair spilled over his shoulders to the middle of his back. Heavy-lidded green eyes twinkled with good-humor. Mason was prepared to like the man until Heracles’s roaming eyes landed on the four women standing around Mason. Lascivious intent lit his eyes as he sauntered forward bestowing his handsome smile on them. “Well, hello, ladies.” To Mason’s utter astonishment, the Furies all blushed and fluttered their eyelashes at him. “Hi, Heracles.” Aki snorted and shuffled his feet with a baleful glare at Teensy. The Furie ignored him as she flashed her dimples at Heracles. He bowed before them and kissed their little hands with strange gallantry Mason would not have expected from the Lothario. Heracles’s eyes turned to Roxana. “Roxana…Love.” His lips curled into a sensuous smile. Mason growled at him before Roxana could say anything. He didn’t even look at her. There was no way in hell he was going to put up with his own father flirting with his future wife. Green eyes looked at Mason, looked away, and returned. “This is one of mine!” he announced to the room. Roxana sighed. “This is your son, Mason Landry.” “Landry…Landry,” Heracles mumbled. “Don’t recognize the name. Who’s your mother?” Impotent fury roared through Mason at the question. “I don’t know. She left me in front of a church when I was eight weeks old.” Heracles shrugged. “That’s too bad. Well,” he said heartily and clapped Mason on the back, “welcome to the family!” He turned

away to greet someone else, leaving Mason furious and glad as hell he hadn’t been raised by the man. He turned to Roxana to ask her something, but was stopped when another wall appeared in front of them. He was damned tired of being one of the shortest people in the room. The gods, goddesses, and several others stood heads and shoulders above him. He looked up into the face of a metallic monster. Oh shit. Roxana’s father, the giant. As in a real giant. The man was bronze all over. Hair, skin, eyes, all the same color, and it was both arresting and disturbing. “Roxana.” Her father’s voice was deep like a bottomless pit and just as dark. “Want me to kill?” There was no need to ask who he meant because one huge hand landed on Mason’s shoulder. He looked down at the fingers that were nearly as big as a baby’s arm. Talk about a scary father-in-law. But his Roxana was undaunted. She shot the giant a look of wrath. “Oh, so now you want to be a father?” The big face looked hurt. “Wanted to keep you. Hephaestus said no. Little girls need more care.” Roxana’s face softened. She rubbed a hand over her flat belly. “No, don’t kill him. I love him. Stupid, reckless man he is.” The bronze giant smiled, and the heavy weight on Mason’s shoulder fell away. “Akakios come with me. I teach him to fight.” Now Roxana looked worried. Mason tried not to take offense to that, but okay, he was jealous. He glared at her. She didn’t get upset when her father threatened to kill him, but when Aki came into the conversation, she suddenly started fretting. She should be worried about him! “I don’t know.” “I’ll go,” Aki said, limping forward with a cold glance at Teensy. He hugged Roxana. “At least this way you and Mason have some, um, alone time.” “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Rhea inserted as she sauntered forward. “I plan to spend a lot of quality time with my disciple and great-grandson.” Roxana glared at her goddess. “You’re going to keep saying that, aren’t you?” “Saying what?” Rhea asked innocently.

Roxana looked at the goddess, Mason, the Furies, and her brother and father. “You guys are going to drive me crazy, aren’t you?” She threw her hands in the air. “It’s kind of hard to do that when you’re already bat-shit crazy,” Allie said looking well pleased when Roxana glared at her. Rhea chuckled. “She’s so adorable when she’s angry. Like a little honey badger.” **** Roxana gnashed her teeth at her goddess. She wanted to protest the comparison, but she was too overwhelmed and hungry to care. She had her man who was now immortal, which looked sexy on him, standing at her side; her brother looked fine if a little worse for wear; and Hera’s fat ass was headed to Earth for the next hundred years. She didn’t really have much to complain about except for her growling, not quite settled, stomach. Her lip curled. “I hate being pregnant.” Rhea rolled her eyes. “You’ve only been pregnant for an hour.” Roxana snarled. “I am not having another kid after this.” Mason cleared his throat. “Don’t you think I should have some say in that decision? What if I want to have a few more children?” The look she sent him was full of attitude. “And how about I rip your balls off and give you a vagina so you can have the baby? How about that?” That should have set him on his ass, but not her sick puppy. Oh, no. The smile he sent her was pure sex and sin, and it made her insides quiver like Jell-O. “I thought you liked my balls where they can do you the most good.” Luckily he’d spoken softly, so no one heard him over Hera’s very loud removal from the party. Roxana didn’t look her way. “Hm, I might have forgotten what they can do for me. Maybe you can show me later. After I eat.” His kiss was swift and hard. “That’s a promise.” “Good,” she purred, leaning forward to nip his neck. “Now, feed me, Seymore.” “Who’s Seymore?” “Gah. You have no culture and no fashion sense!” She followed him to the tables laden with food. Her stomach growled.

“The first thing we’re doing after this is getting you some clothes befitting my consort.” “The first thing? I thought we were going to fuck like rabbits first.” He said it so smoothly it took Roxana a couple of minutes to realize what he’d said. Heat scoured her veins like lava. “Okay, the second thing.” “Oh, good.” He stepped up and rubbed her stomach, his big hands both soothing and arousing. “I think you look gorgeous, by the way. You always look gorgeous to me, baby.” Roxana sighed. He was a keeper. “Okay, I’ll accept that.” “Hell, are we gonna have to watch you to grope each other all the time? Because if so, I am so not visiting until the honeymoon stage is over.” “Suck it up, byotch,” Roxana told Meg with a smug smile. “You’re just jealous.” “Duh, she is the jealous one,” Teensy said wryly as she came up next to them. She inclined her head towards Aki and Talos. “You’re okay with your bro going off with the giant?” Roxana bit her lip because she wasn’t entirely sure she liked the thought of Aki being with their father, but Talus seemed genuinely interested in Aki. There was, well, it looked like affection on the bronze giant’s face when he looked at his son. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she’d always thought. Just because her mother was insane and cold didn’t mean Talos was the same. “I think it’ll be good for them.” Teensy nodded, though there was a faint frown on her face as she watched father and son. “Right. Well, since you’re alive and all, I think I’m gonna head back to Earth and put the fear into some killers.” Though her words sounded perfectly normal, Roxana couldn’t help but think something was off about the way Teensy spoke. Her friend, usually so easy-going, was stiff and radiated hostility. What was going on? She wasn’t given time to ask because suddenly, everyone who’d stood up against Zeus about Hera’s punishment surrounded her and Mason, forcing Teensy back. Roxana looked back one last time and saw her friend cast a dark glance at Aki before she was swallowed up by the crowd.

She’d find out what was going on with her friend when things calmed down. Gripping Mason’s hand in hers, Roxana prepared to make nice with the very people she’d always thought were against her. With him at her side, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were still against her. She had Mason, and that was enough for her.

Epilogue Mason was reading over a series of reports of godlings who would be entering the company when a giggling, naked little boy was plopped into his lap. Impish bronze eyes twinkled up at him. He sighed. “I’m trying to work,” he said to Roxana, even as he put his papers down and hugged Chance closer. “And I’m tired of trying to get that boy in some clothes!” Roxana crossed her arms over her belly which was rounding out with their second child. “I swear I spend a fortune so he’ll always look nice, and he rips his clothes off the second I turn my back.” Mason chuckled. Chance was hell on wheels, just like his mother. “Babe, any idea why there are so many godlings coming out of southern Louisiana?” In the three years he’d been with the company, he’d taken over the immensely complicated tracking and discovery aspect of his grandfather’s division of the corporation. His sole purpose was to search out godlings and find out if they were worthy of working for the company. Normally it gave him one hell of a headache, but in his latest searches, he’d found that at least half a dozen godlings lived in southern Louisiana. It was a high concentration for one area since the executives tended to jet around the world. Roxana rolled her eyes. She still didn’t have much respect for the executives’ play habits, but she wasn’t as angry with them as she had been. “There was a divine convention in New Orleans over a ten year span between 1975 and 1985. No doubt a lot of, um, kids were conceived,” she said cautiously with a careful look at Chance. He frowned. So he’d been the product of a divine baby boom? He shook his head with a rueful laugh. He wasn’t surprised. Not really. Things were so messed up on Mount Olympus it would have taken a lot more than that to surprise him. “When’s the next, uh, convention?” “Not for another twenty years, thank gods,” she muttered. “Where’s my baby boy?” Rhea called out as she entered the apartment without knocking. As usual. Chance chortled and jumped off of Mason’s lap. He ran across the living room to throw his naked body at his great-greatgrandmother. She hefted him to her hip, his strong, sturdy body

almost dwarfing hers already. If she hadn’t been a goddess, she’d have fallen on her ass. She sent Roxana a censorious glance. “Why is this child naked? Again? He could catch cold without clothing!” She started towards Chance’s room. “If I had known your mother was going to be so irresponsible, I’d have given you to someone who’d appreciate the little treasure you are.” “Can I kill her?” Roxana’s voice was full of seething fury that had sent more than one Enforcer trainee running for the hills. Apparently his Roxana did not like being asked stupid questions, and not even motherhood and impending birth softened her lethal tongue. Mason snagged her wrist and pulled her into his lap. “No. Besides the fact that she’s family, she’s also your goddess, and you’re supposed to show her the utmost respect.” She sniffed as she hooked her arms around his neck. “Respect my ass. She makes me seem like a bad mother.” He nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear and rubbed his hand over her belly. His Roxana was mellower with this pregnancy than she’d been with Chance’s, but not by much. She’d had more time to get used to the pregnancy, although Mason had feared for his life when she’d gone through the morning sickness routine again. “You’re a wonderful mother, baby. Chance only gets naked when he knows she’s coming.” Roxana tensed and pulled back. “He does?” Not deterred by her withdrawal, Mason’s hand roamed up to her generous breasts, hefting them in his hands before plucking at her nipples. “Mm-hm.” “But how does he know she’s coming? She never calls.” Her voice was breathless as she arched her back, pushing her breasts deeper into his hold. “I don’t know. Does it matter?” Because he didn’t really care, not right now. Later, he’d think on it more. Like when he didn’t have Roxana in his lap, her luscious ass grinding against his cock. “Wanna take a nap?” Her frown disappeared. “I thought you had to work.” He nodded. “I do have work to do. Very important work actually.” Her eyes darkened with disappointment. “I have a theory I need to test.”

“Oh?” she asked with disinterest. Her foot tapped in the air with her impatience. Roxana didn’t like to be denied. After four years of marriage, he couldn’t help but tease her. “Mm-hm. Did I ever tell you what I used to fantasize about on that trip to Mount Olympus?” Another frown flitted across her face. “No. I thought you were too concerned with sex and staying alive to think about much.” A teasing smile played at the corners of her lips. He pinched her ass in retaliation. “I used to dream about spanking this ass of yours.” To illustrate which ass he was talking about, he gripped a rounded cheek and squeezed firmly. Her breath hitched. “I imagined my hand warming up those beautiful cheeks for all the torment you put me through.” A flush stained her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled like topaz. “Yeah?” He nibbled on her throat. “Yeah. And I’m going to do just that.” Her pulse beat a wild rhythm against his lips, and he knew he had her. “Did, um, I ever tell you about my fantasy?” His cock pulsed. It was time to take her to their room. Rhea was with Chance and would probably stay with him for hours. She couldn’t seem to get enough of the little boy’s innocent charm. With that thought in mind, Mason cradled Roxana in his arms and stood. Her hot breath warmed his ear as he strode down the hallway to their room. “After that time I brought you here, you know, before I died?” He rolled his eyes because she never let anyone forget that she’d gone over death’s threshold and come back better than ever. “When I brought you here for the first time with your hands tied?” Sweat beaded on his brow. He kicked their bedroom door closed and locked it with his mind. It was his latest trick, and he thoroughly enjoyed the power to lock his wife in their room when he felt like it without even leaving the bed. “Yeah?” he asked as he placed her on her feet. “I keep picturing you tied to the bed and at my mercy.” Just like that, Mason’s dreams of spanking his wife flew out the window. He hurried to the dresser to find her stockings, tossing them to her as he zapped his clothing off. He was on the bed seconds later splayed out and waiting for her. Roxana blinked. “I didn’t expect you to be okay with that.”

Mason looked down at his engorged cock. “Does it look like I’m not okay with it?” He spread his arms towards the bed posts. “Now come over here and ravish me, woman!” The sparkling smile she sent him was almost worth the torment of waiting for her. She approached the bed, her clothes disappearing in a golden glow. He relaxed against the bed and prepared to let his wife tie him up and take him to heaven. **** Chance looked up at his gram. “Uncle Aki is in trouble, Grammy.” Her hand smoothed back his thick, black hair. A sad smile crossed her face. “I know, sweetie, but he has a lot to learn before anyone can help him.” The little boy sighed and tossed away the sphere he’d conjured with his grandmother’s help. “I guess so. When will Aunt Meggie have her baby? We’re getting married, you know.” Rhea’s smile broadened. “I know, and don’t worry. Aunt Meggie is going to start working on your bride very soon. And in time, Chance, you’ll have more cousins than you know what to do with. Now, I think it’s time I teach you how to change the weather. Did I ever tell you that your grandfather, Zeus, used to make it rain every single time his brothers wanted to have a chariot race? He didn’t like being the youngest and didn’t like to be left behind.” Chance’s gap-toothed smile was eternally precious to Rhea’s loving eyes. “Will I be as strong as Opa one day?” “My sweet child, you already are.” And she smiled her secret smile, because Chance was the first in a new generation of halfmortal, half-immortal children who would lead Mount Olympus into a bright new future. The End

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