Guardian (36 page)

Zeus’ gavel flew into action as the room erupted once again.

A sudden cold wind, smelling of the ocean, swept through the room, and loose objects everywhere became airborne. Athena stood, placing her hand on her sword and Apollo leapt to his feet. He’d replaced his lyre with a bow and arrow and had a golden arrow nocked before Zeus could even pick up his gavel.

“Listen to the Monad, majesties. She speaks the truth.”

The familiar, haughty voice, followed by the sound of the double golden doors slamming, caused all eyes to once again turn to the chamber doors.

Etta, resplendent in spotless robes of shimmering white, sauntered toward the assembly behind the table, her wings trailing gracefully behind her. “I have been to speak with the spirit of the guardian Mack in the Elysian Fields. He confirmed what Nuria Monad Warrior has told you. Guardian Mack sensed the presence of a god when he examined the fallen woman. He believes that is why he was extinguished. The woman was not as she seemed. Mack assumed it was a trick of some kind. Since speaking to Mack I have been watching the gods on Olympus, knowing that one of you was at the core of this plot. Only one of you has shown signs of being affected by magic. This creature!” she pointed a tiny finger at Castor, “Look at him. How he shakes and quivers. He is suffering from the effects of Zeus’ ouster spell. You look not upon Pollux, as you had assumed, but Castor, his brother, who has no right to remain on Olympus!”

Chapter Twenty-
Two

Dastardly Intentions and Quick Reprisals

C
astor gave a bellow and began to vibrate violently. Ian’s sword flashed and, almost more quickly than my eye could follow, found the usurper’s throat.

“Don’t kill him!” I screamed.

But Pollux’s body shuddered hard three times and then collapsed, nearly beheading itself on Ian’s sword. Ian realized just in time what was happening and lowered the sword, catching Pollux’s body before it hit the ground.

Something grey and vaguely man-shaped stood between Pollux’s body and me. It stared at me for a beat and then turned, flinging itself into the air.

Heading straight for Zeus.

“No!” I conjured a wrinkle with my mind and stepped into it, running full out within the speed enhanced layer in my effort to reach Castor before he leapt into Zeus’s body.

At the last moment Zeus seemed to realize the danger and stood, lifting his hand above his head.

Somebody screamed, “Beware the bolt!”

Zeus loosed one of his signature lightning bolts into the room. The massive, deadly charge hit Castor’s spirit form full in the chest, lifting him off the ground. He hung in the air, writhing like a burning snake.

The lightning continued on past Castor and exploded the marble beneath our feet into a million jagged chunks, which flew into the air. The deadly missiles pierced everything in their path.

Castor’s soul form glowed and, for a moment, looked like it would explode. But after a few beats it righted itself and shimmered in the air before me, fairly vibrating with renewed power.

That was when I realized the spell fed on electrical charge.

I couldn’t inject him with my power to kill him.

I would have to drain Castor of his power instead.

A second realization hit me on the heels of the first. The force of Castor’s energy would most likely kill me.

But I didn’t have a choice.

As Castor turned toward Zeus and crouched, ready to leap into the horrified god, I reached out and plunged my hand into the shimmering mass.

Castor jerked as my hand entered his form. He turned toward me and, for a heartbeat in time I saw wide, grey eyes in a pale face.

Then I closed my eyes and pulled at that shimmering life force, drawing it deep within my body.

Pain, like heated glass scraped through my body as I gorged myself on Castor’s power, dragging it like a thousand small shards across my overfull cells.

I felt moisture running through my body, like the warm flow of blood as I was ripped to shreds from the inside out.

My head fell back and my mouth opened.

The throbbing of my throat told me I was screaming, but the rush of power through my body drowned out all other sound.

My knees hit the hard floor and I strained to stay upright on them.

A wave of heat and weight, like a rubber bag filled with warm water, smacked up against me.

I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Castor’s horrified face. His mouth was open in a silent scream as his form lost its shape and wavered, stretched thin, and then began to fade.

I felt as if I would explode.

Every cell in my body was overstretched and screaming for release from the incredible pressure. My head throbbed and my limbs went numb. I could no longer judge where my body was in relation to my surroundings. I didn’t know if I was upright or face down on the floor. Then I wobbled and my head hit the hard, marble floor.

Something warm and wet ran from my shattered skull.

I lay at the bottom of what felt like a million pounds of rock and watched death come for me.

At that point, the grim reaper’s ugly face was a most welcome sight.

~ ~
*
~ ~

The world was gold and green and tasted metallic. I squeezed my eyes more tightly shut but the light insisted on slithering past the pitiful barrier of my lids. Experimentally, I tried opening them, only to slam them shut again on a groan of pain.

“Pull the shades!”

The voice was familiar but I couldn’t quite place it. It sounded very authoritative.

The hateful light dimmed.

“Here, drink this.”

A hand slid beneath my head and lifted it, something cool, with a fruity scent, slid between my lips. It tasted wonderful.

I eagerly drank it all and licked my lips as I was lowered back to the pillow. The hand under my head slid away and I wrenched my eyes open. My vision slowly focused on an eerily beautiful face surrounded by glistening, silver hair. Emerald green eyes searched my face with a clinical detachment.

“How do you feel, Monad?”

As she asked I felt a surge of energy. “Good. Actually, very good. What was in that drink you gave me?”

“How is she?” Ian’s voice was filled with concern. It made me feel all warm and tingly in my happy place.

Tana turned away from me. “She has color in her cheeks.” The faery queen stood and stepped away from the bed.

Ian came into view as she moved. Despite the worried frown on his handsome face he looked wonderful.

He wore a belted white tunic over golden leather faery breeches, and soft brown leather boots. Standing next to the delicate faery queen he looked tall, leanly muscular, and darkly handsome. His big, rough looking hands flexed at his sides as if he was considering grabbing something. I suddenly hoped it was me he was thinking about taking hold of.

“Look how her eyes sparkle when she looks at you.” Tana’s voice held amusement. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” Her smile hinted at some secret.

Ian’s worried look turned speculative. “Tana, dear friend, exactly what did you give her to drink?”

Tana’s laughter was musical, sending tingles across my skin. “Just some ambrosia. It’s very…uplifting.” The door closed behind her, shutting off the musical laughter.

Ian groaned.

I pushed myself upright and grinned at him. “You’re purty.”

He shook his head. “That didn’t take long. And you almost died a couple of days ago. You wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for Tana’s healing magics. You shouldn’t even be thinking what you’re thinking right now.”

“I feel wonderful!” I levered myself up to my knees. The sheet fell away and Ian sucked air. I looked down and giggled. I was naked. “Ooh, boobies.”

Ian sighed. His big hands lifted toward me and then clenched into fists. “Lie down now and cover yourself up. You need to rest.”

I tried to walk on my knees toward him and got tangled up in the sheets, falling forward with a delighted squeal.

Ian caught me, groaning as my breasts smashed up against his chest. I shimmied up against his body, pressing my soft parts into his hard parts. “You still have those nice buns? I reached around him to check, giving the firm, round globes a none too gentle squeeze.”

“Hey!” Ian exclaimed, nudging me gently until I fell backwards onto the bed. “Take care with those buns, they’re very sensitive.”

I giggled, wriggling my body so that my breasts danced for him. “Girly man! Bring those sensitive buns over here.”

Ian shook his head and cocked an eyebrow at me. “You really can’t hold your ambrosia, drunkin’ spirit.”

I grinned, lifting my arms toward him. “Says who?” I reached a foot out and pressed it against the quickly growing bulge in his breeches.

Ian groaned. “You’d better stop that right now, drunkin’ spirit.”

“Or what, Elfaery? What will you do to me if I don’t?”

I shrieked as he threw himself on top of me, landing on his elbows and knees above me. “I’ll do this…” his lips lowered and created a warm, tickly trail up my throat, “and this…” his tongue flicked out and speared between my lips, sliding over and between them hungrily. “Mmm. You taste sweet and fruity, drunkin’ spirit.”

I moaned as he lowered himself onto me, pressing the evidence of his surrender into my soft belly. “You taste of more than that, Elfaery.”

“Is that so?” His full, soft lips found a perky nipple and sucked it in, pulling gently until my body lifted toward him of its own volition.

I nodded, gasping as he found the other nipple and gave it a gentle nibble. “You taste of sex and trouble, and of many delightful hours to come.”

Ian reached down to free himself from his tight breeches, I wrapped my legs around his hips and panted with delight as the hard heat of him slipped between them, nestling warmly against my thigh. “Make that days, weeks, and months of delight, drunkin’ spirit. Ambrosia or no, I plan to keep you busy in my bed for a very long time.”

My only response was a gasp of delight, as he drove that point beautifully home.

The End

~ ~*~ ~

A
ward winning author Sam Cheever mixes in a little fun, a little adventure, and a little real-life spice to create her sexy fantasy and romantic suspense stories. Sam’s fictional peeps fight their way through a dizzying array of dangerous challenges without letting little things like mean tempered ex girlfriends, dangerous villains, or angry, manipulative gods dampen their zest for life and hot love!

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