Cursing Athena (Order Of Seven)

Other works by Lisa Sanchez

The Hanaford Park Series:
Eve of Samhain

Pleasures Untold

And coming Spring 2012: Faythe Reclaimed

Obsessed

Dedication

To my husband and best friend, Ryan.

Thank you for allowing me to pursue my dreams.

Love you ‘til the end.

Acknowledgments

There are so many people I’d like to thank, so I’m just going to go ahead and dive right in. To my amazing critique partners, Kaiti, Kristin and Killian: THANK YOU. Your input and valued criticism has been invaluable to me. You make me a better writer, and I’m thankful for your help and friendship. Killian: Special thanks to you for being a constant support as I very slowly maneuvered my way into the Indie-pub world. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I owe you, girl. Big time!

I’d like to give a huge shout of thanks to my fantabulous beta-readers, Lisa Langdale and Brenda Pandos. Your willingness to read the early drafts of my work is greatly appreciated, and your feedback is always on the money. You girls rock my socks and I’m also thankful to call you friends. Mwah!

To my closest friends, Sarah Jones, Deanna Genung, Karen Ruth and Edie Anderson: I love you all dearly, and thank God for your presence in my life daily. Thank you for being a constant stream of support both with my writing, and in my day-to-day life. You ladies make me a better person, and I’m so thankful for you. So happy you enjoy my smutty writing, lol!

Lastly, to my precious family, Ryan, Kendall, Taryn and Irelynn: You are my life, and I love you all with everything I have. Thank you for putting up with a messy house, microwavable dinners and a mom whose face is almost always glued to her computer screen. I couldn’t do this without you.

Chapter 1

Bloody, dismembered bodies never got easier to look at. No matter how many millennia you roamed the earth. Ty stood from the cluster of torn limbs and viscera, disgust coating his stomach. Glass, splintered wood, and torn, blood-soaked paper littered the hardwood floor, every inch of the taupe walls in the small upscale apartment spattered with gore.

“It happened maybe an hour ago. Two at most.” Athena stood from where she knelt, her long, jet-black hair cascading across her black leather jacket like a shiny curtain. “The scorch mark is still fresh.”

Ty stared at the large circular burn mark on the floor and gnashed his teeth. He’d seen enough inter-dimensional landing pads to last him a lifetime—a thousand lifetimes. It was always the same: some hopped up demon, drunk on his own power, would decide he was the exception to the rule and cross over into the mortal realm, usually through a crack between dimensions.

Ty glanced over his shoulder toward the pile of female parts littering the sofa and floor. The underworld visitor had hit pay dirt, landing in the middle of what looked like some sort of book club gathering. Red wine mixed with blood seeped into the oriental throw rug; some type of uptight, crudités appetizer peppered the carpet along with a few well-manicured fingers.

“Great Zeus above…” Ty shook his head. It had been a bloodbath. The poor women never stood a chance.

Demons weren’t permitted out of Tartarus, and for good reason. Hungry for both flesh and innocent souls, they treated the human population like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

This, of course, was where he came in. Leader of The Order of Seven, and a favorite of Athena despite his outward hatred of her, he’d been summoned to the grisly scene just moments before.

Plucked from the bowels of Hades by the goddess herself, Ty and each of his six warrior brothers had been saddled not only with the lovely gift of immortality, but with an inner beast, a fierce mythological creature that would lie dormant within until it came time to battle. Ty’s beast, a Nemean lion, was especially vicious. Three times the size of a normal lion, it sported an enormous jaw that could pulverize steel and claws that could cut through the thickest armor. Even more astonishing was its fur. A deep burnished gold, smooth and thick, it was impervious to mortal weapons, making it virtually indestructible. Unearthly handsome in his mortal form, and blessed with the strength of a thousand men, he was the perfect warrior—cunning, lethal.

Goddess of wisdom, warfare and justice, Athena relied on her elite army of seven to stamp out rogue demons and keep the peace on the mortal plane. All business, all the time, the boss lady had teleported him here straight out of his bed.
So much for a peaceful night’s sleep.
Thank fuck he had the sense to sleep with his clothes on or things could have been really awkward.

“I’m on it.” Jaw clenched, Ty shook his head and rounded the couch, taking care to avoid the mess. He wasn’t particularly fond of cleaning gore off his boots, though in his line of duty it happened more often than he cared to admit.

“Not so fast, Tydeus.”

Fuck! What now?
Ty skidded to a halt, just inches from the front door. Twisting his upper body, he glanced over his shoulder. “Boss?”

Covered in buttery, black leather from head to foot, the goddess looked regal, beautiful, and above all, lethal. Piercing blue eyes captivated his attention, drowning out the monstrous scene surrounding them. Power and might rippled off her lithe body in waves. “This is no ordinary demon we’re dealing with.” Disgust hardened her already fierce expression. She stepped forward, her thigh-high stiletto boots clicking on the pale wood flooring. “We’ve got ourselves a Hirudo—a leech.”

Ty closed his eyes and sighed.
Shit.
Hirudos were parasitic body snatchers who took over human bodies, drained their life force from the inside out, then moved on to their next victim. Not only did they feed off mortal souls, they had a lust for blood and mayhem, which explained the carnage filling the high-rise apartment.

Lynx, a highly skilled warrior and brother in arms, had battled a Hirudo for a solid month just a century before. Incorporeal until it found a host body, the demon was near impossible to track—a trail of dead bodies often the only clue as to its whereabouts. A leech on the loose in Arcane meant trouble—big trouble. Jaw tight, Ty breathed deep and spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re sure?”

Athena raised a perfectly sculpted brow and narrowed her cerulean eyes. “You dare to question my word, warrior?”

Ty held up his hands in supplication, inwardly cursing his fat mouth. He didn’t have the best filter, his thoughts often flooding out of his pie hole at high velocity. “Goddess…I meant no—”

“You would do well to remember your place, Tydeus of Calydon. I made you, and I can unmake you just as easily. It is by my grace alone that you live at all.”

Ty donned a cool façade and remained silent, all the while cursing his maker on the inside. Oh, how he hated Athena. Man, monster, demon, death…there was nothing on earth that scared Ty. But Athena…Athena made him nervous for she wasn’t of the earth. No. She was an Olympian, a powerful goddess, wise, all knowing, deadly, and stubborn as fuck. And his sorry ass had up and questioned her word.
Idiot.

While he hated his boss and the cursed beast she’d saddled him with for all eternity, he had a healthy respect for her power and knew he needed to remove his foot from his mouth post haste.

“Forgive me, Athena. I—”

“Relax, Tydeus,” she said, cutting him off. “Groveling is beneath you…” a wicked smile curled the corner of her lip, “and I haven’t the patience for it.”

She turned her gaze from him to the far wall and waved her slender arm in a wide arc. A large portal appeared out of nowhere, the dark, swirling vortex tugging at his gut, beckoning him forward.

“Make haste, Tydeus, and don’t disappoint me. Find and dispatch the leech before it destroys more innocent souls.”

With his beast roaring, begging to be freed, Ty leapt into the portal, his sole focus that of tracking and destroying the Hirudo. He was a soldier by birth. Immortal killer by trade. Aside from a good fuck every now and then, there was nothing more satisfying than bringing down a mark. Hopefully this one turned out to be somewhat of a challenge. Easy kills were boring.

Chapter 2

Two weeks later…

Out of breath and impossibly late, Danika blew through the employee entrance to the club and barreled into the changing room, determination fueling her step.
I’m not late. I’m not late. I’m not…crap.
With a soft groan, she skidded to an abrupt halt and dropped her purse onto the aging wooden bench that lined the rusty, break room lockers.

Dammit all to hell! It was my turn to be the mermaid!

Frustration sent a hot flush creeping across her skin as she watched her co-worker, Sasha, adjust the glittery strap of the shell bra she should rightfully be wearing. Unable to mask her disappointment, she sighed in resignation, wincing as she eyeballed the neon green alien getup hanging in the corner.

It was always the last costume on the rack, and for good reason. Made up of skintight, body-hugging spandex, the out-of-this-world nightmare was a poor excuse for a bodysuit. With its plunging neckline, silver thigh high boots, and God-awful mask, it tended to make the person donning it both sweaty and claustrophobic.

Sasha cast her a heated sideways glance and made a show of fluffing her long, ebony tresses. “If you wanted to wear a better costume, you should have hauled your sorry ass down here earlier.” Stationed in front of a large, oval mirror, she painstakingly applied a thick coat of mascara to her heavily painted eyes and inspected herself at length with an appreciative smile. With her ruby lips pursed, she glanced over her shoulder and scrutinized Danika with obvious disdain. Raising a sculpted brow, she stalked out of the locker room, blasting a vicious, “You snooze, you lose,” over her shoulder.

“Bitch!” Danika said through clenched teeth. Irritated, she snatched up her purse and proceeded to cram it into her locker with a bit more force than was necessary.

Just bite your tongue and keep it together, Danika. You won’t have to deal with her forever. Just until you make enough money to pay off Douchebag’s debt.

Desperate to rid herself once and for all of the abusive, two-timing, money-grubbing loser she’d mistakenly married, Danika had been forced to take on a second job. The pay from her day job as a clerk wasn’t enough to cover the mountain of debt her perpetually unemployed ex had left her, and filing bankruptcy was an option she stubbornly refused to entertain. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to accept financial defeat, regardless of its practicality.

Unfortunately for Danika, with the country’s growing economic slump, there were few jobs to choose from, and even fewer that paid well. If she were to have any hope of tackling her financial nightmare, she needed a job that paid well, which is how she ended up at Masquerade, the hottest nightclub in town.

Danika sucked in a deep breath and exhaled long and slow. She kicked off her favorite pair of red heels and stripped out of the tailored white blouse and sleek black pencil skirt she’d worn to the office. With a shake of her head, she eyed the green monstrosity hanging on the costume rack with contempt. The getup showed absolutely everything, which meant she’d be going commando as panty lines were a definite no-no.

Clad in only her white lace bra and matching panties, she stalked across the small room and ripped the dreadful outfit from its hanger. This would be the third week in a row she was forced to wear the hideous monstrosity, and dammit, she was pissed. Lateness aside, being the new girl apparently meant you got the shit end of the stick.

Disgusted with her Negative Nelly attitude, Danika slammed her lids shut and inhaled a slow, steady breath. “Cool your jets, girl. Just put on the nightmare outfit and get the job done.”
And be happy you have this job,
she thought as she unclasped her bra and stepped out of her panties.
Things could be a whole lot worse
.

Donning her mental armor, she bent over, ready to shimmy the silvery spandex up her leg when a low whistle carried across the room. The baby hair on the back of her neck shot up as every muscle in her body simultaneously stiffened in fear.

“Goddamn… If that isn’t the sweetest piece of ass I’ve ever seen. I knew I was right to hire you.”

Clutching the costume against her naked flesh in a vain attempt to cover herself, Danika whipped her gaze toward the sound of the unwanted intruder and gasped.

“Tony! What are you doing in here? I’m changing! Please! Get…get out.” Her voice trailed off as a wave of nausea tore through her gut. The way he ogled her with that greasy, lecherous sneer made her want to toss her cookies in the middle of the break room. Instead, she swallowed back the bile coating her tongue and held it together. Yakking in front of her boss was a sure-fire way to get canned, and dammit, she needed this job—badly.
Criminy!
Between the less than stellar costume she’d been left with and Tony’s Peeping Tom routine, her evening was off to a craptastic start.

Tall, with a dark complexion and wiry build, her boss Antonio “Tony” Bocce, looked as though he’d been plucked straight out of a gangster movie with his slick, jet-black hair and pinstriped suit. Danika knew he was a perv when he’d subtly propositioned her for sex during her initial job interview, but was willing to overlook his disgusting nature when she discovered how much money she could earn. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She needed to earn her way out from beneath the mountain of debt James had accrued, and if that meant having to suffer through pick-up lines from a disgusting, greasy slime-ball, then so be it.

On second thought…
She suddenly wasn’t sure any amount of money was worth having to suffer through Tony’s lecherous stare.

Hovering just inside the doorway, Tony stood with his feet crossed at the ankles and his shoulder casually propped against the wall. He fiddled with his two-dollar manicure and ran a hand through his inky hair. “Just checking out the goods, babe. Now hurry up and get your ass out front and make me some money.” He pushed off the wall and jabbed a finger through the air. “And honey…I don’t care how hot you look, if you’re late again I’m docking your pay. Capice?” He raked her over once more with narrowed eyes and adjusted the waistband of his pants, revealing a large, protruding bulge that threatened to bring up the contents of her lunch yet again. After making a show of blowing her a kiss, he slithered out of the room like the snake he was.