Red Mortal (16 page)

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Authors: Deidre Knight

Tags: #Man-woman relationships, #Goddesses, #Gods, #Paranormal, #Delphian oracle, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal romance stories, #Immortalism, #Daphne (Greek deity), #General, #Leonidas, #Contemporary

BOOK: Red Mortal
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The jerk. He’d done all that and left her standing in that field with a damn curry brush in her hand. She blushed at the memory, cringing in embarrassment. She closed her eyes, trying to forget the ending, wanting to remember only the beginning and the middle of that moment.
That reverie was interrupted by a loud rapping on her car window. She yelped, jumping in her seat. All she could see from her low-riding VW were four muscular black horse’s legs—and one impatient hand, lifting to knock on the window again.
“Hang on. All right, already.” She rolled down the window, poking her head out. “You about gave me heart failure, just so you know, Romeo. And please mind the hooves around my sissy’s paint job.”
Sable placed a forearm on the convertible top, slanting his torso downward to stare into her window. It was like being pulled over for a ticket by the ultimate mounted police.
“Could you please get out, Sophie, so we can talk? You’re practically sitting on the ground in that thing.”
“Well, if you didn’t stand almost seven feet tall, then it wouldn’t matter so much.”
He grunted. “I’m not that tall.”
“Whatever. Back away from the vehicle so I don’t hit you with the door.”
He grunted again, trotting past the car and cutting a circle. As she climbed out, he stood bare-chested as always, arms folded in an impatient gesture. What did he have to be pissy about, anyway? She hadn’t pulled a runner on
him
after their first kiss.
“What’s up?” She flung her crochet bag over her shoulder, determined to exude as much impatience as he was.
“Where have you been?”
“Oh, that takes nerve,” she shot back, starting toward the house. He immediately cut her off, and it was hard to get around Sable when he wanted to block you.
“I came to apologize . . . for earlier.” He didn’t quite look at her, his blue eyes fixed first on her shoulder, then her crochet bag, then on her other shoulder.
“What part of earlier?” Hell no, she wasn’t going to make it easier on him. Nothing gave her more pleasure than forcing Sable to squirm over anything—especially his feelings for her. Which was probably a tad perverse, but he had to acknowledge things. Not just their relationship, not just his feelings for her, but the overall transformation taking place inside his soul.
He rolled his pale blue eyes. “Damn it, woman! You know what part of earlier.”
She couldn’t help smiling. He was absolutely
adorable
when he warred internally like this, hell-bent on being mean, and yet unable to keep up the pretense that he didn’t care about her.
“Well, I think in this instance, if you’re issuing apologies, you should be specific.”
He released a slow, agonized breath, kicking at the sandy drive with first one hoof, then another. “I’m sorry that I kissed you,” he said at last.
Her heart skipped a beat, clenching. She honestly hadn’t thought
that
was what he was going to say—she’d been sure he wanted to apologize for the leaving afterward part of what happened.
“Oh. Okay. It’s like that, is it?” She brushed past him, heading toward the house without another glance.
“Sophie, stop.” She heard his hoofed feet crunching on the sand and pebbles behind her. But she didn’t turn to face him. “Would you please . . . look at me?” His voice was rough, his tone uncertain.
With a sigh, she spun to face him. “You know, I never asked you to kiss me, so it’s not like it was my fault. I mean, I can’t help it that you’re always everywhere I go—who even asked you to do that, anyway? You seem to despise me, constantly pick at me . . . and then you go and kiss me. It’s like living inside a blender. A romantic Cuisinart, where you just keep slicing and dicing and you’re on one moment, off the next—”
He cut her off by leaning down and kissing her again. Silenced her completely with that wickedly sensual mouth, which tasted inexplicably tangy, but in the best possible way.
She reached all the way up, wrapping her arms about his neck and holding him as close as she could. She dared to touch his hair again, loving the silky texture, adoring the fast beating of his heart that she could feel in her own chest. The entire moment was so deliciously wonderful, that before she could stop herself, she moaned right into his mouth.
Which, naturally, was the stupidest thing she could’ve done, because he froze right in her arms. His tongue halfway in her mouth, one arm around her back, he stood still as a marble statue. She managed to disengage from the kiss, although he still held her.
“Oh good lord, it’s only a kiss,” she gasped, pushing against his chest. He didn’t budge, and he didn’t remove that arm he had about her.
He looked her dead in the eyes. “I’m
not
sorry,” he admitted. “I lied. I lied like the demon that I am. I’m not sorry for either one of those kisses, and not for wanting it . . . you . . . the kiss . . .” He gave his head a clearing shake. “What I actually came to apologize for, Sophie, was the way I left you earlier. That was rude.”
“Rude, unromantic, ungallant, dorky, and so totally the wrong thing to have done.” She ticked the adjectives off on her fingers, grinning up at him. “Good news, though. You’re getting smarter, the lighter you get. Me? Not so much, seeing as how I’d kiss you again in a freaking heartbeat. And that’s not really so brilliant on my part. I mean, kiss and gallop—I can see how you are, although I guess it’s better than not calling the next day.”
He planted both hands on her shoulders. “Sophie, for the love of Ahriman, would you stop rattling on and on? I’m concerned about you. That’s the other reason I’m here. I’ve sensed something . . . some danger around you.” He glanced up at the brightly lit home. “Around all of you.” He seemed to struggle a moment, staring at his hooves and blinking rapidly. “I don’t know how I can help, but I need to be here. Leonidas has obviously called a big meeting. I’d like to . . . perhaps they’d allow me to join.” He wouldn’t look at her or meet her gaze, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered why he seemed so uncomfortable. There was the niggling sense that he was still lying, only about something much more important than a kiss.
She tried to get a glimpse of his eyes, afraid she might see red, but when he did finally gaze at her again, their clear depths were still the lightest, most beautiful shade of blue.
“I realize it is an unusual request, especially given my history with the Spartans,” he added stiffly.
So that was it! He was uncomfortable because he didn’t think they would trust him—now she got it. He worried that he’d come to offer help, but his intentions would be misunderstood.
“You did help us defeat Layla,” she reassured him. “They know you’ve turned light. You’ve given them tons of reasons to trust you in recent months.”
He hesitated and then asked, “Would you see if they would have me come inside?” He pointed down at his hooves apologetically. “I’ll be very careful on their floors and carpets.”
She couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. “Yeah, it’s kind of crazy imagining you inside the house. I think we’d have to bring the meeting to you.”
He actually looked affronted. “I’m not entirely a beast, you know. I once lived in a palace.” Like a fast-rolling wave, she felt his emotion at that moment, knew it in her empath’s heart and soul. Shame. He felt deep, horrible shame that he most likely couldn’t go inside the house. He hated her knowing him like this, with his half-horse body.
She wanted to cry. Right then and there, she felt the tears prickle at her eyes in response to the heavy pain he carried. Without waiting for his encouragement, she flung her arms about him and gave him a long hug, wanting him to feel her acceptance. And knowing that she’d move heaven and earth now, whatever it took to gain him an invitation inside her cousins’ home.
Chapter 12
 
D
aphne had worked her magic to restore her clothing and hair to pristine condition; some days it was certainly helpful to be a demigoddess. Like when you weren’t prepared for all of your friends and comrades to know you’d nearly made love with their king.
Which raised another question: Was it even going to be possible to keep their love affair a secret for much longer? She’d have wagered a decent sum that they all knew about them anyway. Ari had figured things out a while ago. And, according to Leo, Ajax had learned the truth earlier today. This group gossiped worse than the ladies at Delphi had done back in the day—and she meant the
men
in the bunch. She supposed these warriors had learned the habit at an early age, leaving their homes at seven and going through the rigorous
Agoge
until they reached manhood.
At any rate, Leo’s current predicament was breaking her heart, and she doubted that was something she could hide from anyone should things take a turn for the much worse. But for now, here again in the library, she wanted everyone to believe that she was their stalwart Oracle, concerned for the king they all loved. Nothing more—and certainly nothing less—than the formal relationship they’d always maintained throughout the millennia.
Leonidas took position in front of all their comrades, immediately silencing the few whispers that were going on. Daphne had chosen to stand in the back of the room, wanting to blend in; she wasn’t sure that the flush had left her cheeks yet, even if she had righted her overall appearance. But Leo’s first words put an end to any shyness on her part.
“Daphne, our Oracle.” He waved her toward the front of the room. “Come join me as we discuss your plan with the group.”
She’d have sworn that his eyes stayed on her overly long, a significant warmth in the way he watched her move past everyone else, around the occupied sofas and chairs. Reaching him, she took her place by his side, primly settling the folds of her gown. But Leo caught her hand midgesture, seizing it in his own, and drew it to his lips. Without taking his eyes off her, he brushed a kiss over her knuckles, even though they were standing center stage.
“Leo,” she gasped quietly.
He only smiled at her, that scarred, half smile of his. Then turned to face the Spartans and the humans, still holding her hand in his own. “I believe you are all familiar with my lady love,” he announced quietly. “Daphne of Delphi. Our Oracle.”
There were grins and murmurs of acknowledgment, but Daphne barely heard them. In fact, her vision swam a bit, making it hard to focus on everyone around her. She thought she’d faint dead on the spot, so unprepared was she for this moment. Leonidas hadn’t whispered a hint that he was ready to reveal their relationship, not when they’d agreed months ago to maintain things in secret. She was their Oracle, he their king. It hadn’t even been much of a discussion point that they not make a public display of their feelings, not when so many obstacles stood between them.
Leo gave her hand a squeeze, continuing, “Some of you have surmised the truth of our relationship. What none of you know”—Leo turned to face her, taking her other hand in his—“is that I wish to make her my queen.”
All around them were sounds of uproarious delight. Daphne’s face burned as she looked up into his mischievous, love-filled eyes.
“You wished me to become more loquacious,” he laughed in explanation, his words nearly drowned out by the cheers of excitement. “I need but one word from you now. Will you be my queen, fair Daphne?”
“You know that I will.” She’d already said as much earlier, even though they’d been teasing and intimate.
“Yes?” He smiled at her.
“Yes!” She burrowed her face against his chest, holding him as tight as she could. “Yes, yes, my love.”
They were soon parted by their many friends who swelled about them excitedly, offering hearty congratulations and blessings.
Shay and Emma rushed Daphne, squealing in delight. “We’ll plan the most rockin’ ceremony ever,” Shay promised. “Hey, maybe I’ll even get my band to play.”
Emma didn’t like that idea. “Your band is way too modern and loud,” she said, placing an unconscious hand on her large pregnant belly. “We’ll have to think of something more elegant.”
Before Daphne knew it, the cousins were taking over, planning a wedding that had only been announced five minutes earlier. She’d really have to talk to Leo about when and where she preferred him to be less quiet and circumspect—and when she favored bluntness.
With a stolen glance, she could see that he was surrounded by his warriors, all of the Spartans exchanging embraces among one another.
Ajax, though, was already making his way toward Daphne, a gleam in his dark eyes. “So my Goth girl snagged the prize among all of us, did she?” Jax bent, brushing a chaste kiss against her cheek. “You are worthy of him, dear friend,” he whispered, low enough that nobody else could hear. “He’s been lonely for so very long. Until you appeared in his life.”
She pressed her face close to his ear. “We must save him.”
He seemed ready to answer, but jerked upright when his brother slapped him on the back of the head. “Get your married paws off our Oracle,” Aristos teased, then swept her into one of his huge Ari-sized hugs, lifting her right off her feet. “Damned happy for you both!” he declared, and she thought she actually
would
faint this time, because Aristos had choked all the air out of her lungs.

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