Read Broken Heart 10 Some Lycan Hot Online

Authors: Michele Bardsley

Broken Heart 10 Some Lycan Hot (4 page)

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

Meanwhile in Broken Heart…

 

“LOVE IS YOUR jurisdiction,” whispered Jessica. “So I called you.”

Eros, the god of love, peeked over the large plastic menu. “Ah. Do you mean when you went outside and shouted my name?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“I thought shaking your fists at the sky was a nice touch.”

“Thanks.”

“By the way, why are we whispering?” he asked. “And why do I have to hide?”

“Because one of the lovers in question is about four booths away, and until I know you can fix this, I don’t want to get her hopes up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have these young friends—two crazy kids in love. Tamara wants to go to college and Durry wants to hunt monsters.”

“I’m not a relationship therapist.”

“I thought maybe you could use your magic love bow on them.”

“My magic love bow?” Eros put the menu down and stared at her for a full thirty seconds. “Is that another porno joke?”

“No … well, not on purpose. But you have the love-making arrows, right? C’mon! You just have to go
pling, pling
.”

“Look, Jessica, in ancient times, people weren’t as smart and didn’t live as long. The arrows helped facilitate matches so your species survived. Modern humans are evolved. Honestly, they overanalyze far too much. The only reason I used the bow on your mother and her boyfriend was because of—”

“The pixie wish,” finished Jessica.

Eros went pale. He looked around. “Great Zeus! Flet isn’t around here, is he?”

“Nah. Simone and Brady grounded him because that damned pixie gave their daughter wings. They’d flown around half of Broken Heart before they got caught.” Jessica shrugged. As far as she was concerned, that was just another day in the paranormal town.

“You live in a very strange place.”

“You have no idea.”

Eros considered that for a moment, and then shuddered. “I’m sorry I can’t help. Sometimes, people don’t stay together. Their hearts yearn for something—or someone—else. Not every relationship can be fixed. Not every relationship
should
be fixed. Love changes over time. How people love also changes over time.”

Jessica looked forlorn. “So this
situation falls under that saying … er, if you love them let them go, and if they come back, you can kill them?”

“Ah. Well, yes. Something like that.”

“Crap. Could you at least talk to her?” asked Jessica. “Give her some tips on breaking up with her lycan boyfriend?”


Tell him it’s over—then move to the Arctic Circle and learn to speak penguin.”

“Are you sure you’re the god of love? Because you kinda suck at
the whole matters of the heart thing.”

Eros
slapped the menu onto the table. “I’ve being doing this ‘whole matters of the heart thing’ thousands of years before you were even a twinkle in your mother’s eye.”

“You’ve seen my mom. The only way she’d twinkle is if I threw glitter on her.”

Eros’s lips quivered, and then he gave into the laugh. “It’s very difficult to win an argument with you.”

“I know. I’ve been trained by the best—two mouthy teenagers. Sarcasm level: Expert.” She pretended to wipe away a tear. “I’m so proud.”

Eros reached across the table and grasped Jessica’s hands. “Tell your friend the only thing she can do is tell her boyfriend what’s in her heart. The truth can hurt. It can drive people away, anger them. But a true love will listen. A true love will let go, because he places her happiness above his own.”

             
“I get it. I can’t save them. They need to handle it on their own. And I should stop poking my nose into their biz-naz.”

             
“If it makes you feel any better, people who are lucky enough to have soulmates find them again. Have faith in your friends. And have faith in love.”

“I do,” said Jessica. “I absolutely do.”
She put her hand against her heart and quoted, “‘And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva.’”

“Did your lips just go numb?” asked Eros.

Jessica narrowed her gaze. “Hel-lo.
Princess Bride
reference.”

“Who’s a princess bride?”

“You … you haven’t watched
The Princess Bride
? You’re the god of l-o-v-e.”

“You keep pointing that out. I don’t really watch movies,” said Eros. “I don’t find them as compelling as
stage plays.”

“Fuck that. You’re watching that movie. I’ll provide the couch, the TV, the DVD, and the popcorn. Let’s go.”

“Now?”


Are you busy?”

“Not unless you count talking to a crazy vampire.”

“Of course, I don’t. Look, watch the movie, or…”

“Or what?”

“Three words,” said Jessica. “Flet. The. Pixie.

“Okay, okay.” Eros threw his hands
up in surrender. “Can I invite my wife to suffer this torture with me?”

Jessica offered a wide smile. “Sure.
I can’t wait to meet her.”

 

 

CHAPTER S
EVEN

 

“I DON’T BELIEVE it!” Aphrodite glittered into solid form and threw out her arms, nearly thwacking her companion, Grace. The goddess spun in a circle, her hands flying within inches of the young girl’s porcelain-perfect face.

“Good morning, boss. Hi, Grace.” Daphne leaned against the receptionist desk, her gaze drawn to the slender form dressed in the typical gauzy blue gown. Which Grace was at this time? All three Graces looked and acted the same, and if she hadn’t seen them together, she’d think there was only one. Aphrodite usually had a single Grace into tow and that she felt the need for an entourage.

Aphrodite strode across the lobby, headed toward her office. Grace followed, and she knew her boss well enough stop three seconds before Aphrodite stopped herself, and turned around. She gestured wildly. Grace retreated a few steps more to avoid the flailing hands and the sharp ends of Aphrodite’s manicured fingernails. “Nemesis!

Daphne shook her head. “What did she do this time?”

“She stole my apple. Again! Daughter of justice, my ass. She’s a thief! She should add herself to her list of people who need vengeance.” Aphrodite banked her fury for a moment as she studied Daphne. “What on earth are you wearing?”

Daphne smiled. She lived for Aphrodite’s lectures on proper dress and stylish attire. Today, she wore a silver halter top, a skirt made of purple feathers, and silver thigh-high boots. Her hair and eyes were also purple, though that actually was the color of her hair and eyes—one of the perks (or maybe not) of being a nymph. She struck a pose. “Do you like, Di Di?”

Aphrodite hesitated, obviously caught between hurting Daphne’s feelings and saying what she really thought. “Don’t call me, Di Di. And you look … um, fine.”

“Thank you.” Daphne let her friend and boss off the hook. “Now, about Nemesis … when’s the last time
she took your golden apple?”

Aphrodite suddenly found the shiny red toes of her stilettos very interesting. “Well, let’s see … it was probably aroun
d the time of the Trojan War.”

“Ah, yes.” Daphne grinned.

“You’re not exactly innocent when it comes invoking the wrath of Nemesis,” said Aphrodite.

“I haven’t done anything to her since that bacchanal in the spring of 293. And B
-T-W, I only suggested we should use her sword for the spit. Apollo was the one who stole the damned thing and put a dead pig on it.” Daphne grimaced. “Damn. I promised myself I wouldn’t say the A-word.”

“I forgot you two are on the outs again. What did he do this time?”

“Does it matter?” Daphne sashayed to her desk, and pulled open a drawer. “There’s not a whole lot on the agenda.”

“I know.” Aphrodite sighed. She looped her arm around Grace’s shoulder, and they walked back to join Daphne. “Those reality dating shows and tawdry online matchmaking websites have taken the fun out of love. In the old days, all you needed were a couple hundred young people gallivanting in nature, a roaring bonfire, and vessels of Dionysus’s vintage wine. That’s how you make love matches.”

“I thought those parties always ended in orgies.”

“They did,”
said Aphrodite, “but they also ended in love matches.”

Daphne pulled a metal object out of the drawer and showed the women. “Ta-da!”

Aphrodite squinted at the odd square object. “What is it?”

“Hephaestus made it for me. It’s basically a god and goddess GPS.”

“Why would you need one of those?” asked Aphrodite. One blonde brow winged upward. “To avoid a certain boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend.” Daphne tapped the top of the GPS. “Now, do you want to find Nemesis or not?”

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

DARRIUS HELD ALAYA in his arms, feeling utterly complete. Gone was the restlessness that had been his solid companion since the day he’d lost Alaya. He never thought he’d have his beloved in his arms again. To kiss her, to hold her, to love her—it was surreal. And yet, here they were, together once more.

This time, they would have their happily-ever-after.

“You have been judged and found guilty of hubris,” boomed a female voice. “Vengeance is mine!”

Light shattered the darkness.

Darrius jumped out of the bed, growling, already preparing to change into his lycan form. He would defend Alaya to his dying breath. His woman rolled off the bed and joined him. She was a warrior. As fierce a beast as any lycan he’d ever known. Alaya’s stance was loose, but Darrius knew she was also preparing for the change. Together, they would face this danger.

Whatever the hell the danger was.

Out of the brightness walked a tall woman, dressed in black leather. She held a gleaming sword in one hand—and in the other, a gold apple. “The frivolous insolences of mortals,” she said with a sneer. “Do you believe you deserve true love? I mean, really! It’s been seventy years. That’s a dog’s age.” Nemesis laughed. “Dog’s age. I crack myself up.”


Fuck off, Nemesis. I’m free of you and your wrath.”

“Watch your mouth, puppy. You broke the bargain. You will be punished.”

“I didn’t break the bargain, and you know it. I have a different face. It is my old visage that Darrius could not look upon.” Alaya smiled thinly. “So there.”

Nemesis
raised the sword, which drew Darrius’s gaze and his ire. Alaya growled low in her throat and crouched, ready to leap.

But it was the apple that posed the threat.

“You will forget your true love. Forever.” The apple glowed red, and that insidious color snaked toward them quick and vicious. Its noxious heat surrounded them, a cloud of poison they could not escape.

“Damn it, Nemesis!” Through a veil of choking red, Darrius saw a delicate bejeweled hand snatch the apple. The red dissipated immediately.

“Daphne! We don’t have much time.”

“On it, boss.” A thin girl dressed in a vinyl pink sheath and thigh high ballet boots appeared before them. Tiny jewels glittered at the end of her pink lashes, making the violet color of her eyes pop. Her purple hair was done in a beehive-style.

“Wow. You guys are seriously naked. Nice package, dude.” She pushed on his shoulder and he sank onto the bed behind him. He felt someone bump into him, and stared at the nude woman who looked as dazed as he felt. Who was she?

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Oh, shit. Look, kiddos, I don’t have time to explain.” The purple-haired girl brandished a vial filled with sparkling gold liquid. “Drink.”

She pushed the end of the glass tube into his mouth. He was so startled that he automatically drank. Whatever it was tasted sweet like honey. He watched her toss the rest of the liquid into the lady’s mouth.

“Here’s the part where you go night-nights,” she said.

Darrius fell backward, his eyes fluttering closed. Just before he passed out, he felt the woman fall against his chest. He curled an arm around her—and they slept.

 

“TURN OFF YOUR radiance,” demanded Aphrodite. “I’m getting a migraine.”

The light around Nemesis blinked out. The goddess of wrath looked a lot less fierce without her blinding illumination. “What are you doing here, Aphrodite?” she asked. She looked at Daphne and rolled her eyes. “Still hanging out with plant life, I see.”

Daphne gave her the finger.

“Watch it, nymph, or I’ll banish you to Hades.”

“You stole my apple!” interrupted Aphrodite.

“I did not. I’m allowed to use any and all objects of magical or mystical origin and/or creation to fulfill my obligations in my designated job.”

“Do not quote me canon from the Laws of Zeus. Those haven’t been relevant for centuries.”

“Whatever! How did you find me, anyway?”

“I followed your trail of glistening self-righteousness. It
looks exactly like snail slime.” Aphrodite glared at Nemesis. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“My job. I’m the goddess of wrath, remember?


I heard the conversation,” said Aphrodite. “You’re just pissed off she got out of your bargain. You hate to lose.”

“So do you!”

“Well, at least I don’t prance through the mortal world throwing vengeance around like it’s confetti.” Aphrodite buffed the apple on her sleeve. “You know that boy is the son of Tark and Aufanie. We have to attend social functions with them!”

“I hate those anyway.”

“Quit using the apple to curse love,” demanded Aphrodite. “It’s petty and childish.”

“I dispensed justice.” She snapped her fingers, and the apple disappeared from Aphrodite’s grasp. Nemesis laughed, and then she disappeared as quickly and seamlessly as the apple she’d stolen. Again.

Aphrodite let out a sound of frustration and stamped her foot. “I’d like to take that sword and shove it right up her—”

“The werewolves are waking up.” Daphne patted her boss’s shoulder. “We gotta give them the bad news.”

“A conversation that will need tea.”

“You mean tequila.”

 

ALAYA, DARRIUS, AND Aphrodite sat the living room, sipping chamomile tea sweetened with honey. Daphne had served the tea and disappeared. Literally.

On the couch, Alaya was tucked in beside Darrius, his arm around her shoulders. She’d forgotten how affectionate he was, and how much she enjoyed feeling loved and protected.

Aphrodite had taken the oversized, stuffed chair to the left of the couch. She looked very much like a queen sitting in her throne. She sipped tea and offered them a reassuring smile.

“We’ve been cursed,” said Darrius. “By
your apple.”

“The apple of discord, but it’s even worse than that.”
Aphrodite looked abashed. She put down her teacup. “The apple was a prize in a beauty contest between myself, Athena, and Hera. The judge was a Trojan prince named Paris. We all offered him bribes, and mine was to give him the most beautiful woman in the world.” Aphrodite sighed. “Not my finest moment. Paris gave me the apple. I gave him Helen of Sparta.” Aphrodite pinched her fingers together. “She was a teensy bit married. Her husband wanted her back, and Sparta and Troy went to war for the next ten years.”

“It’s certainly tragic,” sai
d Alaya. “But how did that situation affect the apple?”


Erm. Did I mention Nemesis was Helen’s mother? She was so angry, that she imbued the apple with the power to curse true love.” Aphrodite leaned back and steepled her fingers together. “The one holding decides what form the curse takes. In your case, Nemesis ordered you two to forget each other forever.”

“We have not forgotten who we are—or that we love each other,” said Darrius.

“Only because of Daphne. She’s a Naiad, a water nymph. Her tears have healing magic, but not enough to break the curse—only to delay it.”

“How long do we have?” asked Alaya.

“A day,” said Aphrodite. “Maybe less.”

“This was not how I expected to spend my Tuesday,” said Alaya.

Darrius barked a laugh, and then he hugged her. “I promise you that Wednesday will much better.”

Warmth suffused her, and she recognized it as being comforted. It had been a long time since she’d been on the receiving end of compassion.

“I never stopped loving you, Darrius.” Alaya took his hand and lifted it to kiss his knuckles. He rested his forehead against hers.

“You are my soulmate. I will not lose you again,” he said softly.

“We will not lose each other,” she responded. She and Darrius had reconnected on a level she hadn’t believed possible. His love for her had not diminished over time. He was just as she remembered—and more, so much more. The moment she saw him standing in her doorway, the only thing she could think about was her love for him, shining as bright as the first day she’d known she wanted to be his: The very first time he tried to kiss her. And she’d responded by punching him.

An hour ago, she had been thinking they had time to work out their feelings, to discuss their fears and hopes, to create their future.

To lose him again just when she’d found him—or he’d found her—was just too much.

Alaya had spent her entire life learning to heal the emotional and physical hurts of others. She’d cultivated a calm demeanor, a non-judgmental viewpoint, and a turn-the-cheek mentality. As a priestess she was expected to behave in an honorable manner that befitted her station and her duties to the Moon Goddess.

Her second chance with Darrius was being jeopardized in the same damned way it had been more than seven decades before. She refused to allow her life to be torn apart by forces outside her control.

Nemesis was not the only one entitled to justice.

Or vengeance.

 

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