Goddess of Love (29 page)

“How dare you!” Her righteous anger caused the trees that ringed their bench to quiver as if the hand of a giant—or a goddess—had suddenly shaken them. Griffin glanced at the whipping branches, his eyes widening. “When I spoke those words to you I was showing you my heart. I have been alone, for far longer than your mortal brain could even begin to comprehend.”

“The Goddess of Love? Alone? Because I'm a mortal man do you think that also makes me a fucking idiot?”

“Until this moment I didn't.” In some part of her mind, Venus knew that his harsh words were more a reflection of his shock and hurt at thinking that she had deceived him, than a reflection of his true feelings for her. But once the wrath of a goddess is roused, it is a force that is hard to quell…and Griffin had definitely aroused her wrath.

“The Venus I loved was like me. She'd avoided love until we met. Now she was willing to finally commit, to figure out a way to make a future together.”

“I am still that Venus!” Her shout caused the ground around them to shudder.

“How! How do you propose we make a future together? I may not know much about mythology, but I think I have the part right about you being immortal, don't I? Hell! Are we even the same damn species? Can we make children together? And what happens in ten, twenty, thirty years when I'm an old man and you're still young and beautiful and unchanged? Did you think about any of those things when you decided to play at loving a man?”

Venus stepped back. She felt as if he had slapped her. She drew around her the dignity and power of a great goddess. She felt the shimmer of her divinity caress her skin and the silver-blond mass of her hair begin to lift and crackle with a life of its own. She knew her violet eyes were glowing with an unearthly light, just as she knew that the brilliance of her immortality unbridled would be difficult for any mortal to gaze upon. Venus didn't care. She wanted Griffin to see her magnificence. She wanted him to see what he had lost forever. When she spoke, her voice was magnified by the magic that was her birthright.

“No. I did not think of those things when I allowed myself to love you. I thought only of how our souls called to one another. I see now I must have been mistaken. Your soul is too tainted by mortal fear and selfishness. It is not courageous enough to love mine. I leave you now, Griffin DeAngelo, son of man, and return to Olympus where I belong. I could wipe your memory clean of me, as easily as I would wipe chalk from a slate, but I will not. I want you to remember always that you denied Love herself.” Then Venus, Goddess of Sensual Love and Beauty, lifted her arms and in a cascade of shooting sparks, disappeared.

W
hen Venus rematerialized inside Pea's kitchen, her anger was already
beginning to drain. Barking wildly, Chloe barreled into the room, but when she recognized Venus her snarls changed to welcome yips, and then worried whines when the goddess sat on the floor, scooped the Scottie up in her arms, and burst into tears.

“Venus! Ohmygod! What's wrong?” Pea rushed into the room and crouched beside her.

“He—hates—me!” she sobbed.

“Oh, sweetheart! He couldn't hate you. No one could hate you. Come on. Sit up here at the table. I'll pour us some coffee and we'll figure this out.” She pulled Chloe gently from the goddess's lap, and then helped Venus to her feet and hugged her hard.

“No—no.” Venus hiccupped, taking her usual place at Pea's table. “It's not going to be figured out. Pea, he doesn't want me now that he knows I'm a goddess.”

Pea set mugs of steaming coffee before both of them. “Tell me everything. And here, use the linen napkin as a Kleenex. It's an emergency.”

Pea listened while Venus replayed the scene with Griffin for her, only occasionally gasping and muttering under her breath about how stupid guys could be. When she was finished Venus blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Pea didn't say anything. Instead she got up and brought out of the freezer a long sleeve of something hard wrapped in aluminum paper.

“It's my special stash of Belgian dark chocolate. Eat it. It'll help.”

Venus nodded woodenly and broke off a piece of the chocolate and let the dark sweetness dissolve in her mouth as she sipped Pea's delicious coffee. “You're right.” The goddess sniffled. “It does help.”

“Okay. First, I'm really mad at Griffin, too. He behaved like an asshole.”

“I think Smart Bitches dot com would call him something worse. Something like…” She paused, thinking and sucking on the chocolate. “A goddamn stupid-ass cockhumping whoremonger or maybe an assburger.”

“You're right. Their curses are excellent. Let's call him a cockhumping assburger. It's way worse than an asshole.”

“I agree,” Venus said.

“So we're really mad at him,
but
I don't think you should give up on him.”

“I have to, Pea. I can't change who I am, and even if I could, I wouldn't.”

“I just think that he was shocked, and that's why he reacted so badly. After he has time to think about what a moron—” Venus raised a brow at Pea. “I mean what a cockhumping assburger he's been, he'll be all sorry and apologetic and will grovel properly to get you back.”

“You didn't reject Vulcan when you found out he was a god.”

“Well, that's not really a fair comparison. I'd already become friends with you, so I was kinda used to the idea of immortals hanging out in Tulsa.”

Venus shook her head. “He asked if we were even the same species. I don't know if I can forgive him for that.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes,” Venus said softly.

“Then I think you can learn to forgive him.”

“I don't know. In a way he's right. There's always going to be this mortal/immortal issue between us. When he's old and stooped I'll still look like this. I will eternally look like this.”

Pea's face had gone pale and Venus realized the significance of what she had said. The goddess took Pea's hand. “You should know that I would still love Griffin if he was old and stooped, and after he died I would eternally mourn his death and hold his memory as sacred. As will Vulcan with you.”

“I know. At least I think I know. But it is daunting and more than a little scary to know that you're in love with a being who will never age—will never die.”

“But you're courageous enough to continue loving Vulcan.”

“I don't think I'd call it courageous, but yes. I am going to continue loving Vulcan.”

“Griffin doesn't have your courage. Or perhaps it is closer to the truth for me to say that he doesn't have your love.” Venus blinked back the tears that threatened to well in her eyes again.

“Don't give up on him yet. Men aren't as good at adapting as women. Plus”—Pea shrugged, smiled and popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth—“we have more sense.”

“You're definitely right about that.” Then all kidding left the goddess's voice. “I don't know if I can do it, Pea. I don't know if I can open myself to him ever again. What if he rejects me again?”

“But, Venus, isn't that just part of love?” Pea asked gently. “You have to be vulnerable to truly be loved.”

“Yes. If you're not vulnerable to love, you'll never really be open to experiencing it. I just don't know if I can be vulnerable again. Rejection hurts.”

“Who rejected what?” Vulcan's deep voice rumbled from between them as he materialized in the kitchen.

Pea squealed and clutched her heart. “Okay, y'all have got to stop with the sudden materializations. Use. The. Door. Or you're going to give me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, little one.” Vulcan bent to kiss Pea. He smiled at Venus. “Hello, Goddess.”

“Vulcan.” She nodded absently at him.

Then he sniffed in the direction of Pea's mug. “Coffee…”

Pea laughed and swatted at him when he tried to take her cup from her. “Who knew immortals would be so crazy about something as simple as coffee.” She pointed to the pot. “Help yourself.”

Vulcan poured himself a cup and scooted his chair over so that he could sit with one arm around Pea. He glanced at Venus and then took a second look. “You've been crying,” he said.

“Griffin didn't respond well to finding out Venus is Venus,” Pea said.

“He rejected you?”

Venus let out a long sigh. “Please don't rub it in.”

“My friend, you know I would never do that.”

Venus smiled sadly. “Yes, I know.”

“He hurt you,” Vulcan said.

“He did.”

“Shall I punish him for you? I could cause his blood to turn to lava and his brains to boil,” Vulcan said cheerfully.

Pea frowned at him and elbowed the God of Fire. “I don't think that would be very nice.”

“It is a considerate offer, and I thank you. But I'm afraid I'll have to decline. It seems when you love someone the thought of them being tortured doesn't bring you the pleasure it should. Even though he definitely deserves to be tortured.”

“I could thrash him.” Vulcan glanced at Pea, who was still frowning at him, and added, “But not severely enough to cause him permanent damage.”

Venus shook her head. “No, thank you. I'm just going to return to Olympus and try to forget about Griffin DeAngelo. I hate to think about all the catching up I'll have to do. I really have been here ignoring my divine duties too long.” She stood up.

“Wait! You're going to leave? Just like that?” Pea said.

“Darling, you knew I couldn't stay with you forever.”

“But I didn't think you'd leave so soon. You'll come back, won't you? I mean, no matter what happens with Griffin, you'll come back and visit.”

Venus touched the little mortal's cheek. “Yes, darling. I'll come back. How could I stay away? We'll go to Lola's for pomegranate martinis and dancing and then come back here for hot chocolate and girl talk. And I do believe you'll be visiting Olympus from time to time yourself.” Venus turned her attention to Vulcan. “Which reminds me. My friend, it is past time you and I corrected a mistake we made eons ago. We meant well, you and I, but to marry for less than what you and Pea have is a sham and a lie.”

“I will always wish you well, Goddess of Love. You have been a friend to me when the other immortals shunned me. I won't ever forget that,” Vulcan said.

“I'll ask Zeus and Hera to hear our petition tomorrow evening. Join me in the Great Hall and together we will dissolve our union officially.”

“Thank you, Venus,” Pea said, blinking back tears.

Venus smiled. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” Vulcan and Pea said together.

“Promise me that you will love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live.”

“I promise,” Pea said.

“You have my eternal oath,” Vulcan said.

“Good. I'll be watching. Don't make me have to come down here and smite either of you.” Venus tugged on one of Pea's curls, purposely lightening the mood before one of them started to cry. “Now, Pea, you'll need to close your eyes so that my zapping doesn't scare you.”

“This one time I think I'll keep my eyes open. I love you, Venus,” Pea said.

“And I love you, too, darling.” The Goddess of Love lifted her arms and disappeared.

Vulcan put down his coffee mug and turned to Pea. With his arms open he said, “Are you going to cry now, little one?”

“Yes!” she said on a sob, and burying her face in her true love's shoulder, Pea had a good cry.

“I
'm a fucking idiot!”

The words exploded from Griffin as he tossed the unbalanced ledger across his desk. For hours he'd been locked up in his office by himself, fuming. Then when the fumes had fizzled, he had been left with the stark, cold truth. He'd rejected the woman he loved with all his heart and soul. And why had he done something so asinine? Because he found out she was a goddess. And not just any goddess. The woman he loved was
the
Goddess of Love. Venus. Aphrodite. The woman men had been immortalizing for thousands of years in song and poetry and art. But he had rejected her. Griffin cringed, remembering the look of hurt on her face when he'd let his shock and fear explode as rage and rejection.

He had to figure out some way to make it up to her—to apologize to her—to win her back. Then he'd be a man about it and deal with the fact that the woman he loved was a real goddess. That she wouldn't age or die—that she had unbelievable power.

“She should have blasted some sense into my thick head!” he muttered. Actually, on second thought, he was probably lucky she hadn't.

So now what? How did he start cleaning up the mess he'd made? She'd said she was returning to Olympus. He groaned and rubbed his temples where the same headache had throbbed for hours. It wasn't like he could call her.

Or could he?

She was a goddess. So she heard the prayers of mortals. Didn't she? It was at least worth a try. He cleared his throat.

“Venus?” he called to the air. “Are you there? Can you hear me?” He swallowed and started again. “Venus, Goddess of Sensual Love, Beauty and the Erotic Arts, I ask you to hear me.” Nothing happened. Okay, he'd try it another way. “Venus, I'm sorry. I love you. Is there any way you could forgive me for being such a fucking idiot?” He paused. “Could you shake something if you hear me?” Still nothing. Obviously he wasn't going about this in the right way. So how the hell did one go about summoning an ancient goddess? He didn't have a clue.

Then he sat up straighter.
He
didn't have a clue, but he knew someone who did! Venus had said that Pea had used a spell to evoke her aid. He'd get Pea to give him the spell! Griffin glanced at the wall clock. Shit! It was almost two in the morning. He'd have to wait. But as soon as his shift was over he'd go directly to Pea's house and camp out on her front porch if necessary until she agreed to help him contact Venus.

The goddess would forgive him. She'd have to. He wouldn't stop trying until she did.

Minutes later when the station's alarm shrieked Griffin was actually relieved. At least he'd be kept busy for the next few hours—it would make time seem to pass faster.

Like a well-oiled machine, he and his men flew into action. As Griffin pulled on his forty-plus pounds of equipment and moved quickly to the engine, his lieutenant handed him the rip of paper that had the address of the fire printed on it. Griffin climbed into the driver's seat, his mind working as smoothly as the big engine he drove. The fire was at the Twenty-first Street Borders Books and Music. The good: one, the store was close, so they'd be there in minutes; two, it was two o'clock in the morning, so it was closed and there should be no lives in jeopardy. The bad: one, it was one of those huge two-level stores, so the fire could be large; two, it was a store filled with books, which meant lots of fuel for a quick, hot fire. It could go up like a torch.

Before he sighted the store he knew he'd been at least partially right. It was a huge fire. By the time they pulled up in the big parking lot, the entire front of the store was engulfed in fire. Flames shot out of the windows, shattering the plate glass.

As always at the scene of a fire, everything began to happen in double-time. The men piled out of the engine. Griffin barked commands. The police that were already there started moving the watching civilians back while the hoses and ladders were quickly put into position.

“Captain!” Griffin looked up to see Robert running from the ladder truck over to him. “Nine-one-one dispatch radioed. A cell phone call just came from inside the store. The night watchman is trapped near the rear offices.”

“Follow me around back!” Griffin snapped. The well-trained men knew exactly what to do. They grabbed the proper equipment and jogged after their captain.

“Break it down,” Griffin said.

Robert and J. D. went to work with the axes. The steel door folded like a flower under the strength of their blows.

The escaping ghosts of black smoke rushed out at them.

“Which office is he trapped by? Where?” Griffin asked Robert.

“Don't know. His phone cut out. Nine-one-one got the manager on the line and he says the whole rear of this thing is office and storage space.”

“So he could be anywhere,” Griffin said. It wasn't a question—there was no need for anyone to answer. “All right, let's go in. J. D., Robert go right.” He glanced at the rookie, who looked pale, but who met his eyes calmly. “Bennett, you come with me to the left. Keep your masks on—it's smoky in there. Let's go!”

Griffin always thought entering a burning building was like entering a living beast. It had a personality. It breathed and changed. It was as unpredictable as a wild animal.

This one was no different.

That the flames hadn't reached the rear of the store yet mattered little. The heat was there. The smoke was there. The danger was there.

Griffin moved to the left, ignoring the growl of the fire that was moving ever nearer. He kept visual contact with Bennett, and every few minutes had J. D. and Robert checking in.

The damn place was a maze of filled-to-overflowing bookshelves and cubicles. He was getting ready to check another office, when a cry down the hall ahead of them called his attention forward. It sounded like someone was pounding on the far door.

“Capt, that door looks like it opens to the bookstore,” Bennett said.

“Yeah, stay close.” He took off jogging down the hall.

The heavy door was locked. Griffin used the handle of the axe to pound twice on it. Two desperate knocks instantly responded.

“We got him,” Griffin called. Then he put his face close to the door. “Can you hear me?” he shouted.

“Yes! Help me!” came the muffled response. “I'm trapped and the fire's in here!”

“Step back! I'm breaking down the door.”

“Hurry!” the watchman cried through the door.

“Let's do it,” Griffin told Bennett.

They wielded their axes quickly, but the door was stubborn and it took several strokes before they jarred it enough for them to pry it open just wide enough for Griffin to squeeze through.

He walked into an inferno of flame and smoke and heat. The watchman had stepped away from the door, but overcome by smoke, he'd collapsed in a heap against the wall. Instantly Griffin took off his oxygen mask and fitted if over the man's nose and mouth. Then he lifted him in the traditional fireman's carry and moved back to the partially open escape door, trying to breathe shallowly.

“Here, take him.” Griffin passed the awkward weight of the unconscious man through the narrow opening to Bennett. “Got him?” he called.

“Got him, Capt.!” Bennett grunted.

“Get him outta here. I'll be right behind you.”

“Roger, Capt!”

Griffin watched him disappear into the smoke. He started to squeeze through the doorway, and then all hell—literally—broke loose. The explosion threw him at least ten feet. He landed on his back. The air was knocked out of his already strained lungs. Still he struggled to gather himself and regain his feet. Then a noise much like the screech of a dying bird pulled his attention up just in time to see the railing of the curved metal staircase come loose and hurtle in slow motion toward him. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything except brace himself for the impact of the twisted, melting metal.

Pain seared the left side of his body. Then, thankfully, blackness took him into its cool darkness….

 

Vulcan was deeply asleep. So deeply that he thought his mother's voice was just part of a dream.

“Vulcan, you must awaken.”

In his sleep he sighed, pulling Pea closer to his naked body.

“Son. Awaken.”

Vulcan frowned, beginning to move groggily toward consciousness.

“Vulcan! Now. Wake up!”

The God of Fire opened his eyes.

“Finally. You always have been a heavy sleeper. I don't know where you got that—neither your father nor I could sleep through the dropping of a pin.”

“Mother?”

“Yes, yes, yes, it's me, Hera, Queen of Gods—your mother. And I insist you awaken.”

Vulcan carefully extricated himself from Pea's still soundly sleeping form and sat up. Sure enough, his mother was standing in Pea's bedroom, her ivory-colored robes glistening as if they held a light of their own.

“Mother, what has happened?”

“There's a fire. You must go.”

At the word “fire” Vulcan was already moving. Instantly he called the garb of an ancient Roman warrior to him.

“Yes, you are wise to prepare for battle. Come with me.” Hera took his hand and the two of them disappeared.

When they reappeared it was in the middle of fiery chaos. They were inside a burning building. The flames could not harm Vulcan, and automatically he added his own protection to his mother's aura. He would never allow fire to harm the Queen of Gods.

“Look there.” Hera pointed to a spot of burning rubble that the main area of flames was just about to engulf.

A weak movement caught Vulcan's sharp eye.

“Griffin!” he cried, and strode to the fallen mortal's side, flinging back the flames that were in his path. When he reached him, Vulcan assessed the damage quickly. With one hand he flung the iron railing off the man's body. Griffin's eyes fluttered and then opened.

“Who are you?” he gasped. Then his gaze shifted and his eyes widened when he saw the beautiful woman standing in a halo of light beside the…

“A goddess!” Griffin said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” said the man who knelt beside him. “And I am a friend of Venus. Be still, breathe slowly. I will get you free of this inferno.”

“It is too late, my son.”

Griffin's eyes shifted from the god to the goddess who stood so serenely beside him. Amazingly she smiled and called him by name.

“Griffin DeAngelo, I am Hera, Queen of Gods.”

“Hello, Hera.” Griffin thought he said the words in a normal voice, but a raspy whisper was all that managed to escape his mouth.

“You must listen carefully to me, Griffin,” she said. “We have little time. You see, you are dying.”

Griffin thought he should feel fear or, at the very least, shock at her words. Instead he was surprised that a sense of peace enveloped him.

“The watchman…is he saved?” Griffin whispered.

“He is,” Hera said. “You did well.”

Griffin sighed. If this was to be his end, then at least he'd done his job, and done it well. Grayness began to tunnel the edges of his vision. He thought about his sisters and his mother, and he felt a knife of sorrow for the pain he knew his death would cause them. Then he thought about Venus, and how sorry he was for what he'd said to her. But she was a goddess…maybe she would somehow be able to know how he felt…even after he died…

“Not yet, Griffin DeAngelo! I command your spirit not depart yet!” Hera shouted.

Griffin's eyes shot open and, almost against his will, he blinked his vision clear.

“Mother, I can carry him from here. Surely we can…” the god began, but Hera lifted her hand and commanded silence.

“It has gone too far. His body has been too gravely damaged. Forgive me, mortal man, I misjudged the time Fate had allotted you. I meant to provide you with more of a choice in this.”

Griffin wanted to tell her she was forgiven, but his voice was beyond obeying him. The goddess turned to the god.

“There is only one way to save him, my son. You and he must switch souls. In doing so, you will become mortal and, with the aid of my power, there will be enough of your immortal essence left to heal his broken body and survive. But you will then be mortal—in all ways. Do you understand?”

Vulcan nodded. “I do, Mother.”

“Do you understand that if you do this you will live one mortal life and only one, here in the modern world, and that when you die your body will return to dust and your spirit will descend to the Elysian Fields.”

“And I will spend that life with the mortal woman I love, and when she, too, dies, will she be allowed to enter Elysia?”

Hera bowed her head. “I give you my sacred oath that her spirit will find a home there.”

“I understand and I agree.”