Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (114 page)

“What was your dad like?”

“He was more like me. We used to go on hikes. Nearly every evening we’d sit on our deck with our binoculars and study the wildlife across the reservoir. My dad was a writer, so sometimes months would go by and I’d hardly see him, but then he’d finish a book and we’d have months together before he’d start on another. The thing I liked most about my dad was that he was the best practical joker I’ve ever known, and luckily my mom, and not me, was his most common victim. But I think she liked being victimized in a strange kind of way. He always made us laugh. My dad and I were often in collusion together against my mom, but she never minded. She even seemed to like it.”

The memories swept over Therese and she nearly forgot where she was and what she was doing as she relived brief moments with her parents. She giggled when she remembered the time she and her dad got her mom with the plastic rat they had planted beneath the kitchen sink.

Than squeezed her hand and brought her back, and she looked at him with gratitude. “This is the first time I’ve gone down memory lane with any kind of joy since the shooting. You have a way of keeping me happy and on the bright side of things.”

He returned her warm smile. “I’m glad. You already know what you do to me.”

“No I don’t. What is that exactly?”

He closed his eyes and turned his face back to the sun. She watched him, studied every line and feature of his golden face and chest as he spoke. “You make me feel human, in a very good way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Humans often envy the gods because of our power, but the truth is we have far more responsibilities than freedoms. We have duties, obligations we can’t neglect without significantly affecting the world—the whole world and the life on it. My entire life has been about serving. I have been a dutiful son to my father. This is the first time in my ancient history that I have ever done something solely for me, and it feels great. It makes me realize that I need to strike a balance, more like my brother, who has always managed to find time for both work and play.”

Therese laughed. “That’s an understatement. I’m not sure he works nearly as much as he plays.”

“You’re wrong. Dreams are more important than most humans realize. Hip plays around a lot, but he also works hard to make sure people are inspired, fulfilled, provoked, challenged, comforted. It’s a big responsibility.”

Therese was quiet while she let that information sink in. She hadn’t thought of Hip as rendering an important service. She had only seen him as a playboy. “It sounds like you love your brother.”

“I do. I love all the members in my family.”

She turned on her side and put her free hand—the hand he wasn’t holding—on his heart. She wondered if it beat like a human heart. She could feel it thumping in a regular, humanlike rhythm beneath his chest, and it picked up speed as she moved her hand across his skin.

“I don’t want this afternoon to end. I hope my aunt’s not worried.”

“She and her boyfriend have lost track of time sightseeing in Durango.”

“That’s so weird that you know that.”

He laughed softly.

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“But what if we don’t find the person behind the shooting? What if I can’t avenge my parent’s murderer in time?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Would that make you sad?”

She nodded. She never liked someone so much and couldn’t imagine it ending so soon. “I want more time with you. I’m just getting to know you. Can’t you use your powers to freeze time for everyone else or something?”

He chuckled and his body moved beneath her hand.

“What’s so funny?”

“You freak out when I disappear and reappear, but you expect me to stop time.”

She laughed, too. “But why can’t you? You’re a god.”

“Like I said, we have more responsibilities than freedoms. I doubt even Zeus could pull that one off.”

From high above, a streak of light flew from the sky and struck a boulder not twenty feet from where they lay, sending sparks and smoke and a loud crack in all directions in the echoing valley. The boulder was split in half and was as black as coal.

“Holy crap!” Therese cried, falling against Than. “What was that?”

“Oops. My apologies,” he muttered, but it didn’t sound like he was talking to her. “I made someone angry.”

“That scared me to death. Does that happen often?”

“No. Never to me. But this is an exceptional time in my life.”

Therese now realized she had flattened her body against Than, on top of him from the waist up. He wrapped his arms around her and held her against him. Heat surged through her. She reached her lips to his.

His mouth was warm and wet. A tingling sensation surged through her and she could hear nothing but her heart thudding in her ears.

He said softly, “If I could stop time for you, I would.”

In her mind, she said, “I’d rather die than be parted from you,” and then he looked at her with shock, as though he had heard her thoughts.

“What?” she asked, mortified by the possibility that he could read her mind.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I can’t stand the thought of causing you pain.”

“Then don’t.” Her words sounded hostile.

He opened his eyes again and looked at her. “Should I go away before your feelings…”

“No!”

He cracked a smile. “Does this mean you’ve decided?”

She couldn’t help but return his smile despite the conflicting emotions coursing through her. “First, I want to meet your sisters.”

T
han and Tizze
flew above hundreds of humans in an airport terminal in San Diego. Some sat at tables inside small cafes and sandwich shops. Others sat crammed together near gates. Still others walked quickly through the corridors dragging their bags on wheels behind them. The man they knew as Steve McAdams had short, blond hair and blue eyes and sat sharply dressed in a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, black trousers, and shiny black shoes. He sat looking at a cell phone with another man, about the same age, mid-thirties, also sharply dressed but with dark, curly hair and glasses. Both men held their heads together looking at the phone and laughing.

“This should be fun,” Tizzie said to Than as they landed before the men and made themselves visible.

Tizzie stood in her tight black leather pants and silver halter top and tall black boots. She spread out her arms and legs and closed her eyes and smiled. The men looked up at her and then looked at Than and then looked at each other, perplexed. Tizze opened her eyes and smiled at the men as dozens of wolves appeared in the terminal around them.

The humans were shocked and stopped what they were doing and backed into areas away from the hounds, and as the hounds lifted their heads into the air and howled their loud, screeching, blood-curdling cries, the humans dropped whatever they were holding and cupped both hands to their ears.

The two men before Tizzie also dropped the phone and cupped their ears, tears streaming from their eyes.

“Hear me, Steve McAdams?” Tizzie said coolly, barely perceptible to Than over the howls of the hounds.

The flustered, frightened man nodded.

“Do you know this man, Kaveh Grahib?” She made an image appear in the air over her head, an image of him in his jail cell slumped on a cot, staring into space.

Steven McAdams shook his head.

Tizzie beckoned one of her hounds to her side and then he bared his fangs at the man as he uttered a threatening growl.

“Be truthful Steven,” Tizzie warned. “I do not like men who lie.”

Steven McAdams looked at the growling hound and then back up at Tizzie, still cupping his ears and streaming tears. “I don’t know him!” he shouted but could be heard by none save the two gods.

Tizzie lifted her arms higher in the air, and at once the howling stopped. The humans stared blankly as the wolves descended upon the humans in a rush and a flash, licking each one with a forgetting serum before vanishing into thin air. Than and Tizzie also vanished as Than heard her voice mutter with profound disappointment, “He’s not the one.”

T
herese was
glad when she came home Thursday afternoon to find herself alone—except for the company of her pets—because she could hardly contain her excitement. She couldn’t wait to have more of her questions answered, to find out what the Furies were like, and to spend more time with Than.

The phone rang just after she had stripped down for a shower, but she picked it up in case it was Carol, or better, Than. It was Vicki Stern.

“So can you go to the movies tonight?”

Therese had completely forgotten her promise to call Vicki back. “I’m sorry. I’ve actually got plans again. I was invited to have supper with another friend.”

“But I asked you first, Therese.”

“This is a family thing that came up. I’m sorry. My aunt’s in town and…”

“You just said it was a friend.”

“A friend of the family. Hey, let’s shoot for next week, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye now.”

“Bye.”

“Ugh,” Therese said to herself. What was she going to do with that girl?

After her shower, she threw on a comfy t-shirt and shorts and went downstairs to make a batch of brownies to take to tonight’s dinner. She hummed as she poured the chocolate batter into a pan and popped the pan in the preheated oven. Although she was humming “Poker Face,” it dawned on her that she wasn’t faking this new feeling of liberty as she had on the dance floor. Something about Than’s presence and his apparent love for her had freed her from the dark depression that had threatened to overtake her. She still wanted to go to the Underworld, but now she could do it without dying. She could be with her parents
and
the sweetest, sexiest guy she had ever met.

Things hadn’t turned out so badly for her after all.

As she made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she wondered if she truly loved Than. There was no doubt that she was enamored with him, no doubt that she crushed on him harder than anyone she had ever met, no doubt that she longed to be with him every second he was away from her. But could she really say she
loved
him when she barely knew him? And if her answer was yes, as crazy as that would sound, did she love him enough to spend all of eternity with him?

She took her plate and glass of milk with her upstairs so she could log on to her laptop to learn more about Thanatos and the Furies. She found a passage from an ancient poet named Hesiod who described Than and his brother this way:

And there the children of dark Night have their dwellings, Sleep and Death, awful gods. The glowing Sun never looks upon them with his beams, neither as he goes up into heaven, nor as he comes down from heaven. And the former of them roams peacefully over the earth and the sea's broad back and is kindly to men; but the other has a heart of iron, and his spirit within him is pitiless as bronze: whomsoever of men he has once seized he holds fast: and he is hateful even to the deathless gods.

A new doubt worked its way into Therese’s head as she processed the description. Could Than be deceiving her only to show his true self once she’s his wife and it’s too late for her to change her mind? Was he like his father, Hades, willing to trick her into becoming his queen of death?

Impossible, she thought.

She came across three different images depicting him. One showed him wielding a sword, wearing a shaggy beard and head of curly black hair. His ugly face looked fierce, unrelenting, and cruel. The second image was one she had seen that day she had come home from the hospital: the Grim Reaper, thin like a skeleton, cloaked in black, bearing a deadly scythe. The third image still wasn’t her Than, but was closer to how she viewed him: a winged boy, like Cupid, maybe sixteen or seventeen years old, with a sweet air about him.

Therese knew these were all human interpretations of him and not factual renditions, but, nevertheless, uncertainty about his identity gripped her heart and made her anxious. Her anxiety increased when she read that the Furies had wreaths of snakes in their hair and blood dripping from their eyes and were horrible to behold. Meg had been beautiful. Had she somehow disguised herself?

After more reading, the oven timer beeped, so she went downstairs to take the brownies out and let them cool on the stove top. What a strange circumstance she found herself in: baking brownies for a handful of gods from the Underworld.

The ringing of the telephone startled her from where she had been standing in the kitchen deep in thought. She hoped it wasn’t Vicki. She picked up the phone. “Hello?”

It was Carol calling to check on her, which gave Therese the opportunity to tell her about her supper plans. Carol seemed relieved, for she and Richard had lost track of time and now wouldn’t need to rush back home. Therese hung up and went upstairs to her closet to figure out what to wear. Nothing in her wardrobe seemed good enough for a dinner with gods.

Standing there in the small walk-in closet, she thought of her mother. Normally, she would ask her what she should wear, for her mother seemed to know the latest style, maybe because she worked around college kids every day. Mom could be oblivious to so many things around her, but she had seemed to always notice fashion.

Therese went back downstairs to the master bedroom. Across the hall from it was a guest bedroom, where Carol was staying. Neither Carol nor Therese was ready to disturb the master bedroom. Therese had taken the bottle of Haiku perfume, but had touched nothing else.

Now as she stood there, perfectly alone, she went to her parents’ bed and lay down on her belly with her face in her mother’s pillow, taking in her scent. She took her dad’s pillow and practically inhaled it. His scent washed over her along with a current of tears. She pulled back the covers and crawled beneath them and wrapped herself in their smells. She closed her eyes, willing herself to dream, but there was nothing. After about twenty minutes, she climbed from the bed, not troubling to make it up again, and went into her parents’ closet where their scents were even stronger. She gingerly touched their garments. Would she ever wear something of her mother’s without falling apart? Could she dare part with her father’s clothes by giving them to charity?

She left the closet and went to her mother’s dresser. She opened the tiny drawers of her wooden jewelry box, a gift from Therese’s father before Therese was born. She took a diamond necklace from one of the drawers and held it up to her throat, gazing at her reflection in the dresser mirror. Twelve round stones linked together on a delicate golden chain made a beautiful choker around her neck. Maybe one of these days she would find an occasion to wear it. Maybe she would take it with her when she became the goddess of death.

She laughed nervously. “I have lost my mind,” she whispered.

Therese tucked the necklace back into its drawer, closed the drawer, and went back upstairs. She was surprised to find Clifford had not come down with her, but had chosen to stay on her bed. She hadn’t given much thought to how much he probably missed her parents, too. She now shuddered at the thought of leaving him and Jewels and Puffy forever.

Therese returned to her own closet again. She finally chose a short red skirt and tight white, short-sleeved sweater that she thought made her boobs look bigger. She slipped on her white wedge sandals and looked over herself in the mirror. She picked up her hair to see which looked better—down or up—and decided to stick with it down, the way her father liked it.

Her heart felt tight as she wondered if she should have told someone the truth about her hosts tonight. What if they killed her and took her down to the Underworld before she could say goodbye? What would her aunt and the Holts think if Therese never returned? Should she leave a note just in case?

I’m being paranoid, she thought. Than would never hurt me.

Therese went to the kitchen to cut up the brownies and put them on a platter. She folded plastic wrap across them to keep away bugs during her walk through the forest to the Melner cabin. She looked like a normal girl headed toward a normal neighborhood potluck, or something; not a possibly deranged girl with illusions of eating with gods.

She put the platter down on the counter and swept her dog up in her arms. “I love you, Clifford. Be a good boy. I’ll be home soon.”

T
han gave Therese
a bashful smile when he answered the door in his khaki shorts and a short-sleeved denim shirt. She was glad she had come. She didn’t care what happened to her. She wanted to be with him.

“What is this?” he asked of the platter she handed him.

“Brownies. Have you ever tasted some?”

“You obviously aren’t talking about nymphs.” He looked confused.

Therese threw back her head and laughed. “Chocolate and sugar. They’re for dessert.”

He gave her a sheepish grin as he led her through the living area and into the kitchen. He sat the brownies down on the kitchen bar. “Thanks. I can’t wait to taste them.”

The Melner cabin was similar to her house in that the living room and kitchen were open to one another. But in the Melner cabin, the stairs started near the front entrance instead of the back. At the back of the house, off of the kitchen, where Therese’s stairs would be, a door led to a dining room. A huge bay window opened to the forest climbing the mountain behind the house. Therese could see a flagstone patio and grill outside.

Than’s two sisters were already gathered waiting for her with the table set. They stood up when she entered, their round eyes shining with the light of the crystal chandelier hanging over the center of the beautiful table scape.

Therese recognized Meg even though her thick blonde curls were loosed from their usual bun and spilling out down the length of her back. Her beautiful face was without makeup, and Therese now realized that her lips were naturally deep red. Meg wore the black go-go boots from the night before with a short black fitted dress. Unlike last night, she wore red ruby studs in her ears, matching stones in rings on her fingers, and one enormous blood-red ruby pendant around her neck. She looked fiercely beautiful.

A little much for a dinner at home, though, Therese thought.

The other sister—Tizzie, Therese presumed—had equally long, thick hair, but hers was jet black, and her curls were individual serpentine ringlets, as though she had curled her hair and then not brushed it out. Her face was darker complexioned, and her eyes were black like her hair. She had dark eyebrows with a delicate arch and deep red lips. She also wore no makeup and yet possessed an eerie kind of beauty. Tizzie wore tight black leather pants, black stiletto heels, and a silver halter top that tied around her neck, leaving her dark back bare. Shimmery emeralds hung from her ears, and smaller ones linked in several loose, jangling bracelets around both wrists.

Therese felt she had underdressed.

Than pulled out a chair from the table. “Please, sit down.”

When Therese sat, the Furies sat, too.

“Therese, these are my sisters. You’ve met Megaera, or Meg for short.”

Meg gave a courteous, but distant, nod.

“This is Tisiphone. Everyone calls her Tizzie,” Than said.

“Welcome to our table,” Tizzie spoke without smiling. “Our brother told us you wanted to meet us. I must say you are the very first human to ever make such a request.”

Meg’s sneer sent a shiver down Therese’s back.

“Thanks for having me,” Therese managed to say. “Everything looks delicious, and the table spread is absolutely beautiful.”

“What nice manners,” Tizzie commented.

Meg added. “We’ve been known to punish those without them.”

Than cleared his throat. “Why don’t we eat?”

Therese saw that the salad was like the one she had made for Than. Along with the salad was a bowl of vegetable soup and a plate with fried potato patties.

“We’re vegetarians,” Than explained. “I hope you like the food.”

Therese took a sip of the soup with her spoon. “Mmm. Delicious. I tend to be vegetarian myself—not strictly, but usually.” She cut a piece of the potato patty with her fork and gave it a taste. It melted in her mouth. “Oh my goodness. So this is what gods eat?”

Than said, “We usually eat ambrosia and nectar, but when in Rome…”

Therese smiled. “Oh yes. Right.” She was terrified now of appearing impolite. She continued to eat in silence.

After several minutes of cutting and scraping and drinking and chewing, Meg prompted her, “Than says you have questions.”

Therese stammered, “I, I hope you won’t think it rude of me.”

Tizzie said, almost demanded, her arched brows raised with curiosity, “What do you want to know?”

Therese wasn’t sure where to begin. “Maybe you could tell me what you’ve learned so far about my parents’ killer.”

This question apparently pleased both sisters, for they gave her lascivious smiles.

Tizzie spoke, “Every night I go and torment the man who pulled the trigger that shot the bullet into your mother’s neck”

Therese shuddered.

“That is why I could not go dancing last night,” Tizzie added.

Well, of course, Therese thought. That sounded perfectly normal. She couldn’t go dancing because she was too busy tormenting a man in jail.

Tizzie continued, “This man’s name is Kaveh Grahib. He lies in his cell while I fill him with anguish and dread and terror. I whisper in his ear to tell me the details of the plotter. I climb on top of him and let my snakes slither on his clammy skin. Blood drips from my eyes when he resists, and my legs squeeze him until he cannot breathe. So far, I have only a name, but it won’t be long before I track the plotter down.”

Therese’s appetite left her, and she sat chilled and afraid. “What is the name he gave you?”

Tizzie looked at Than, and Than nodded, so she said, “Steven McAdams. I know he is American, but that is all. Tonight I will find out more.” She gave her lusty smile.

Meg scowled at Therese. “It’s rude not to finish your plate.”

Therese took a sip of the soup and tried her best to finish the rest.

“Maybe we should change the subject,” Than suggested. “Why don’t you two tell her what it’s like living in the dark abyss that is the Underworld. She’d like to be better informed before making the decision I discussed with you.”