Apollo's Gift (The Greek Gods Series) (11 page)

This grimy, dark hole was just the spot. It looked as miserable as she felt. A section near the end of the marred wooden bar called to her. Cassie slid onto a vacant stool and glanced at the paper napkins printed with low-class humor littering the length of the bar. Yuck. She breathed in and then thought better of it as a pungent guy walked by wearing a wifebeater. Maybe she’d have just one drink and then go.

“I’m Derek. What can I get you?” The voice dragged her attention to the middle-aged bartender, gray at his temples and balding on top. He had kind gray eyes.

“I’ll have—” she hesitated. What did she want to drink? It’s not like she had much experience with alcohol. The girls she hung out with drank a glass of wine and that was the extent of it. This place didn’t look like they carried much of a wine list. A man in the next seat ordered a Long Island ice tea. Hmmm. That sounded good.

“I’ll have the same.” She said the words as if she drank this all the time and waited for the drink. The bar filled with bodies. The smell of sweat-dampened shirts combined with cologne and alcohol. She wouldn’t have picked a place like this on a bet, but it was just what she needed. A crap bar for the crappy way she felt.

The Long Island pushed over the scarred bar top and rested before her. It was tall and looked brown like a good glass of strong iced tea. She liked iced tea. She took a sip from the thin plastic straw. The liquid burned her throat. This was more than plain earl grey. She noticed the guy sitting next to her nursing his drink. He grinned at her and winked a brown eye. She shivered. Not happening. She’d dealt with enough male sexual urges to last her a lifetime. It didn’t matter to her that the guy was a little cute in his jeans and white t-shirt. His dark hair and shadow of a beard made him look dangerous, the look of a man able to give a girl a hot kiss and know how to please her. He’d be a good choice if she were into that casual hot-and-bothered kind of no-strings night of passion.

Cassie shifted her gaze to the bartender. Derek had a snub nose and a one-inch scar on his chin from when he might have taken a hit in the bad end of a fight, or just clipped it falling down on the ice some frigid night on the streets after work. Yep. He would do fine. This was a guy she could pour out her troubles to as he poured alcohol into her glass. That's what she wanted tonight, someone to talk to who wouldn’t remember what she’d said or who she was in the morning. And she wouldn’t recall him either. The more she drank, the more comfortable she felt.  She’d stay a while.

Cassie took another long drag from the straw. She didn’t notice the burn anymore, but it made her a little lightheaded. Not that that was a problem. It was just what she'd come for. To get drunk, dance on a table or two, sing and whatever came to mind, and then catch a cab and head for home. The rest of her story about the sex on the hood of a truck was scratched from her itinerary. No way was her first time having sex going to look like that.

Female laughter brought Cassie’s focus to a group seated at a table behind her, six women in their mid-twenties to early thirties. Cassie wished that she were having a good time with her friends like these women. They talked and one of them screamed with joy when the girl in the short bob flashed the ring on her finger. That’s what it meant to be alive in this world and to be a part of it. All she’d done was calculate figures, please her parents and date losers. That wasn’t living. That was torture and slow death.

Was that why she hadn’t had many relationships, and why she maintained virgin status?   Had it been Apollo chasing the men off or was it her? Cassie’s thoughts were cloudy. It had to be the drink. She sounded boring even to her own ears. No one thought numerical theory was interesting except another math nerd. She’d thought pervert computer geek John Medina understood and might like her. Boy, was she wrong. Apollo seemed to be the only available male who didn’t yawn in her presence.

She shook her head, letting her messy hair fall to the side of her face, and draped over the bar. Damn, but if Apollo wasn’t perfect for her in some ways. The truth of that irritated her. Too bad he wasn’t a man.

Apollo cared for her in his way. He obviously believed that he was protecting her. Surely not every man was out to use her and needed to be scared away. No. She’d done some of that herself. Apollo had mentioned a couple of the men she’d dated, but not all. There were others, and, for whatever reason, they weren’t interested. Apollo was. But did he only want what he didn’t get from Cassandra? The thought of their bodies tangled together in sheets invaded her mind and warmed her skin. Those wicked dreams gave her pause. Would it be so bad to actually have sex with Apollo? It would be a memorable first time and, by the look of things, her only opportunity. There was no way she was succumbing to men like John.

A few more sips from the straw brought the sound of sucking air. She pulled out the straw and went for the dregs. It didn’t taste strong to her anymore, but went down smooth like, well, like iced tea on a hot summer day. “Another, please.” She waved her empty glass at Derek. He nodded.

Cassie hated to think that the one man meant for her was the arrogant and all too gorgeous Apollo, but that’s how it looked. Maybe if she drank enough of that tea it would look different. She drank. “Really good tea.” By the time she’d drained the glass, she had another staring back at her.

Derek smiled. “Are you doing all right, little lady?”

“Oh yeah, just fine,” she mumbled. “How about you keep these tea things coming for as long as I can manage to stay on this seat.”

“Are you driving?”

“Do I look like I’m driving? I'm sitting here talking to you.”

He gave her a long look and then laughed. “Either you’ve had enough and I got to cut you off or you're one hell of a funny gal.”

"That’s me, life of the party. Just ask my wannabe boyfriend, the god. He'll tell you.”

He laughed again. “That sounds like a story. So where is this god of a boy friend? I'd notice a guy like that in here.”

“He’s around. Probably making some one miserable besides me. I think that’s his official job on Mount Olympus, misery maker.

“Mount Olympus? Isn’t that some where near by? Sure, there’s a restaurant with that name. Do you work there?”

Cassie snorted. “No. I don’t work there. I’m a student and world saver. That’s not my official title, but that's what I do. The gal that sees the future and stops the bad guys.” She took another gulp and sloshed the contents onto the bar as she put the vessel down.

“Nope you're drunk, little girl. I have to take your drink.”

“Oh come on. I’m not drunk yet.”

“Believe me, you’re pickled. I hope you can walk out that door. I’ll call you a cab.”

“Thanks Derek, but I have to do something first.”

“The ladies room is straight across.” He pointed. “You can’t miss it.”

She shrugged. She only needed a table to dance on and some music. Cassie swayed and slid from her stool. The place had cleared out some, and she spied an empty table.

“Thanks,” she said, and threw down a few bills. She weaved her way through the tables and found a spot. She lifted one spiked heel onto the wooden chair, latched on to the back with her hands for balance and hoisted herself up.

A pair of arms yanked her off. Her feet suspended in mid-air. “What the hell?” She twisted her head to see who had her.

And a pair of green eyes set in the face of an angel stared back. “Not happening, babe.”

She moaned. “Oh come on. Why would you care?”

“Because I work here and this is my job, to stop pretty girls from making fools of themselves. Besides, we don’t need a lawsuit when you fall off of that table and break something.”

“I won’t break anything. I’m going to dance.”

“Not in your condition. I doubt you can walk a straight line.”

“I’m not after walking, just dancing.”

“Oh, I can see that, how about sitting?” And the man plopped her into the wooden chair. “What is a girl like you doing here?”

“I’m getting drunk, and dancing on this table, and then I’m singing a few songs.”

“And that’s your plan?”

“Yes. And you’re ruining it.” She squinted at him. He had nice green eyes.

“Not a very good plan.” His mouth pinched together as he looked her over. “You might want to sober up first.”

“I wouldn’t do it if I weren’t drunk.”

“Well you got that part down.”

“I do?”

“Yes. You need to go home.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Oh no I don’t. I need to dance.”

The man waved over a waitress. “Coffee,” he called. “A pot.”

Cassie blinked. “You’re thirsty.”

“It’s for you. I don’t want you passing out before we can tell the cab where to take you.”

“I don’t feel so well.”

“Oh no you don’t. You’re going to the head or outside. Which is it?”

“Outside,” she groaned.

He hauled her out the door.

She gulped in the cool air and her stomach rolled. She bent over and spewed ice tea all over her shoes and dribbled goo from her mouth.

“Just in time,” said green eyes.

Cassie shook, swayed and staggered away from the puddle. Green eyes pulled out his phone. “Where do you live?”

She squinted to focus on him, “How do you do that? How do you make yourself all squiggly?”

He shook his head. “I need your address. What is it?”

“Just take me to Mount Olympus. I want to get with a tasty god. Yeah, that’s it.” She teetered. “Oh, no, better not. I'm drunk.” Cassie slumped onto the black top and wiped the sticky goo off her mouth with her sleeve. "Do you want to date me?"

“Ummm.” His mouth twitched. “I’m married.”

“Too bad. You seem like a nice guy.”

“Your address?”

“Oh yeah. I have to get home. I have school in the morning.” And then the world turned black.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Apollo hated relying on human media, but as Hades had pointed out, he’d lost his gift and he lacked minions. It was all over the news. Cassie Priam missing. Apollo found it odd that a grown woman didn’t have the freedom to be abroad without all this interest. It must be her attention-seeking mother and her father’s position that had brought this on. He’d viewed them both over the years and found Dr. Priam lacking honest affection.

He watched the report on the row of televisions at the electronics store. The wonders that human science had come up with astounded him. Dr. Priam tearfully recited the tale of Cassie storming out of the house. It sounded likely. Cassie had been a in a foul mood when he'd last seen her. Where would she go? He searched his memory for her private hideaway, but nothing beyond her room came to mind.

He’d find out more from her family. Apollo had worn the suit that irritated him but would be appropriate for mortal interaction. In a flash, he left the blaring televisions and stood outside her home. He rang the bell.

A dark-jacketed man answered the door. “Dr. Priam is giving interviews out back on the patio. Who are you with, Channel Five or one of the other stations?”

“Olympus,” Apollo answered, only stretching the truth.

“Hmm,” said the mortal, crinkling his aged brow. “That must be a new e-paper. Where’s your press ID?”

Apollo smiled “All is in order.”

The man nodded in vacant agreement. “Head around the side of the house and sign in.” The man closed the door, ending the conversation.

Apollo followed the voices and found Dr. Priam acting the part of distraught mother, wringing her hands and sighing. “I hope nothing terrible has happened. But in this world?” She wiped her eyes. “My husband left for Greece yesterday. It’s such a trial to deal with this alone.”

What had happened after Cassie left him? His chest rumbled as irritation formed a growl and he swallowed it. He must calm down or he’d singe someone.

Dr. Priam was a true thespian by the look of her contorted features. She moaned in agony and bewailed her situation as the worried mother of a wayward daughter. Apollo knew the woman well and this act couldn’t fool him. He very much doubted that it fooled the crowed of reporters hovering around her either. Regardless of his distaste for the woman, he had to interject himself in the mêlée and play his own part.

He used his divine abilities to walk through the crowd and pass the stiff suited, secret service agents unseen. When he opened their awareness of him, Apollo already stood beside Dr. Priam. “I came as soon as I heard.” The agents moved closer, their hands slipping to their weapons beneath their coats.

“Who are you?” Surprise apparent for a split second and then gone as Dr. Priam’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the man she went out with last night?” she hissed under her breath.

Apollo hadn’t thought he'd be mistaken for the rodent. “No. I’m not. I haven't seen her.” He didn’t want to lie, but the complete truth wasn’t wise. Zeus would drag him to Mount Olympus for greater punishment.

The thought of his wager with Hades sunk deep into his brain and he couldn’t risk losing. Cassie trapped in Hades’ abode and at his mercy curdled his gut. Serving his putrid uncle added to his discomfort. His lungs constricted and he shook his mane of golden hair. Still attached.

“We're engaged,” he said. That was close to consort, not a total lie, just the bending of the truth. He could live with it. The media clambered around him, not in reverent adoration befitting a god, but like hyenas circling a carcass.

“Where did you meet her?” shouted multiple voices. “What’s your name?” vibrated from the side. Reporters pressed closer, held back by security.

Cassie’s mother stared with hard speculation. “Of course. You met her in?”

“Greece,” he answered. “On a trip to Delphi.” At least that was true.

Her mouth spread into a tense grin. “How and when exactly did you get engaged to my daughter?”

How could he put this and be honest? He couldn’t admit he’d demanded she be his consort. That wasn’t the mortal equivalent to promising marriage. Marriage meant commitment and celibacy, or did once. He’d never tried holding to one woman’s couch for long and he doubted he had it in him. It wasn’t done. Why should he? Gods shared themselves with many lovers. Admitting that wouldn’t aid him. “We had an understanding in Greece and she’d accepted.”