Reborn (22 page)

Victoria
gives a hesitant laugh, a pink blush rushing up her neck and cheeks. “Um,
thanks?”

“Why
would a badass goddess care what a bunch of sorority girls think about her,
anyway?” Carly wonders.

“It’s
just hard coming from a place where no one cares about that sort of thing to
one where it practically defines you, if you let it,” she explains. “I didn’t
want it to get in the way of our mission, of your ability to trust and accept
me as your leader.” Tanya and Carly seem to consider this for a moment, and
then nod in understanding.

“Hold
up.” Carly props her elbow on the back of the couch, her caramel curls
cascading over her arm as she rests her head in her hand. “If we’re your
descendants, that means you used to sleep with men.”

“I
guess I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” Victoria’s wry reply has
the three of them erupting into uproarious giggles.

Carly’s
observation is a sobering reminder for me. “And I’m
not
one of your
descendants. Now that Farrah’s use for me has run out, she’s probably going to
ask me to leave.”

“No!
Twin
,” Tanya cries out.

“You’re
not going anywhere,” Victoria assures me. Their unconditional acceptance brings
a smile to my face but fails to melt the frozen cage of loneliness reforming
around my heart. I’m not a true Gamma Lambda Phi. I’m not human anymore, but my
soul sets me apart from my fellow demigods. I still don’t belong anywhere.

We
stay up and chat awhile. I welcome the distraction from my bleak thoughts, but
around midnight I have to put a hand to my mouth to cover a huge yawn.

“I
think it might be time for bed—really, this time,” I say. The others murmur in
agreement.

“I
guess I
do
have to get up for Concepts of Math tomorrow. Mondays. Ugh,”
groans Carly.  I have to get up for World Myths and Legends and face Dr. Mars,
who will be down one handsome, charming teaching assistant.

“Sweet
dreams,” Victoria bids us upstairs as Tanya and I go into our room, and she and
Carly disappear into theirs.

***

And
sweet dreams I have.

Sweet,
exotic, exhausting dreams.

I
dream of
him
.

Sometimes
when I wake up, perspiration beading on my forehead, a fire spreading through
my abdomen, I think for a few moments that Eros must have been here, hovering
over me in the bed.

Hands
gliding over my breasts and torso.

Lips
nibbling my throat.

Fingers
teasing me between my thighs.

I
think I even hear his voice, whispering into my ear.

“I
miss you, Siobhan. Let me back in.”

Epilogue

As
I wait for Anna underneath one of the umbrella
tables outside Starbucks,
I take off the cover of my caramel macchiato to vent the steam. After a careful
sip I check my phone: It’s five thirty. Anna’s a half an hour late. I cross my
arms and recline back in my wobbly chair to do some people watching. Students
spill out of the public library across the street, reusable eco-friendly bags
swinging at their sides. In the back of the crowd ducks a man’s dark head, and
as the group parts his other features come into focus: a pale, handsome face
and slightly wavy dark hair. Two menacing midnight blue eyes meet mine—

“Siobhan!”

Anna’s
shining face suddenly bobs into my field of vision, obliterating my view of
him. She opens her arms to hug me, but when I don’t immediately get to my feet
to reciprocate she drops them to her sides.

“Earth
to Siobhan.” She waves her hand in front of my face. “What’s wrong?” At last
she takes the chair across from mine. It’s too late: I look up and down Hickory
Street, but he’s vanished.

“Nothing.
I just thought I saw someone I know.” I haven’t gotten the chance to update her
on everything that happened last week.

“You
look like you saw a ghost.”

“You
look like you got some
color
,” I exclaim to change the subject. Her
naturally tan skin looks extra sun-kissed. I jump when she grabs my forearm,
her usually calm face lit up with barely contained excitement.

“Eric
took me to the most wondrous place!”

I
shake off her hand. Her fingers have left white imprints on my already pale
arm. “Where’d he take you?” I ask even though I already know.

“To
another world,” she whispers eagerly. “To a place more beautiful and brighter
than I’ve ever seen, where we ate the most delicious food I’ve ever tasted. We
made love on the beach.
And
he gave me this.” She plucks an
amber-colored glass bottle with a rubber eye-dropper cap from her purse and
sets it on the table. Even though it’s not labeled, I know exactly what it is.

“All
it took was a few drops, and now I sing better than I ever have in my life.”
Anna demonstrates by belting out a high, clear note, holding it for a good ten
seconds. She doesn’t notice the other patrons’ perturbed glances at us. “And I
got the part! I’m going to be Marguerite!”

“Congratulations,”
I reply warily, still not used to this new, squealing, hyperactive Anna. “Look,
we really,
really
need to talk.”

“Hold
that thought.” She holds up a finger and gets up. “I need to get my caffeine
fix.”

“I
don’t think you need…anymore caffeine,” I trail off. Anna’s already bounded
inside the café. Sighing, I pick up my drink to take another sip, but I stop
with the paper rim millimeters from my lips. I stare over it at the tiny bottle
of ambrosia, its amber sheen winking at me in the sunlight, beckoning me.

Just
so you know: You only need one more dose of ambrosia to become as fully
Olympian as you can possibly be. Only one or two drops needed…

Without
giving myself the chance to change my mind, I pick up the bottle, unscrew the
cap and meticulously squeeze one drop of clear liquid into my coffee, then a
second. I stir it furiously and then test the surface with my tongue before
kicking back a long, warm gulp. And another. Even though I hate these Olympian
mood swings, I hate always feeling like the weak, helpless damsel-in-distress
more. I want to be ready next time—if there is a next time.

Afterwards
I don’t feel any different, but then again, I didn’t notice the other
treatments, either. Anna falls back into her seat and sets a paper cup and
lemon poppy seed muffin swathed in plastic wrap on the table. She unwraps it
and breaks off a piece.

“So
what did you want to talk about?” she asks. “Siobhan. Siobhan!” she barks
through a mouthful of muffin, but it’s as though I’m hearing her from far away.
“What is with you today?”

I
want to answer her, I really do, but I’m too distracted trying to make sense of
the deluge of memories overwhelming my mind. In one I’m doing laundry by a
frothing river and hear a melodious voice call out to me from one of the tree
branches overhead—I’m hearing Eros’s voice, for the first time. In another I
study myself in a bronze-framed mirror, but another face stares back at me: a
girl with copious waves of white-blonde hair framing creamy skin, sleek
cheekbones, a slightly upturned nose but the same large, deep violet eyes. I
remember white and pink beaches, crystalline blue waters, glass palaces, fiery
sunsets and two pale gray moons swelling against a black velvet sky. I remember
him
: dark, careless hair, marble white skin, magnificent feathered wings
the color of rebirth rather than death, blue eyes shining with love and
kindness instead of mischief.

I
remember everything.

Sources

All Greek mythology, including the stories of Eros and
Psyche, Aphrodite and Ares, and Hades and Persephone came from Wikipedia
(www.wikipedia.org). (Somewhere, a librarian is cringing.) For the Greek words
used in the Gamma Lambda Phi Guardian Ceremony, I used the New Testament Greek
Lexicon, New American Standard (http://www.biblestudytools.com/lexicons/greek/nas/).

About the Author

S. L. Stacy
is a PhD student by day, but a paranormal
romance writer by night.
She loves reading and writing in the
young/new adult, paranormal romance, urban fantasy and sci-fi genres. When
she’s not writing, Ms. Stacy likes to science, go to zumba and obsess over
Once
Upon A Time
and
The Vampire Diaries
.
Reborn
is her debut
novel. She knows she left you hanging, but don’t fret: The sequel is coming in
2014. In the meantime, visit her on her
blog
and
Facebook
or
follow her on Twitter: @sstacy06.

About the Cover Artist

H.N. Sieverding
is
an author and graphic designer
.
She has her bachelor’s in art and
designs book covers, banners, post cards, ads and book trailers. You can find a
few samples of her work
here
.