Shafted (8 page)

Callie’s grandmother: Polya Rayning, named
for Hyppolya, the most famous of the reigning queens. Camp
Penthesilea: after Hyppolya’s sister and Callista, another
celebrated warrior of their line.

A ripple of foreboding crept over Anteros’s
scalp. This wasn’t a guide
to
the
legendary Amazonian Book of Queens; it
was
the God-blasted Amazonian Book of Queens!

No wonder the markings on the journal’s cover
looked familiar, they matched the ring he’d seen on Callie’s hand.
A ring designed in the image of Hyppolya’s golden corset girdle,
the royal symbol of authority only the strongest and highest
honored among the Amazons dared claim.

The muscles in Anteros shoulders started to
bunch up. Hades balls...Callie wasn’t just any mortal; she was a
direct descent of the Amazon Queens.

Long ago memories and tales, fit to shake
even an immortal male’s fortitude, flashed through his head and
‘doomed’ took on a nasty new meaning. The Amazons were a race of
women even the gods seldom messed with. One that made dating a
black widow spider seem like a good idea in comparison.

He imprinted on a bloody Amazon! And not just
any one, if he was reading this book right, a cursed one. And he
thought explaining to her who he was would be fun, how was he
supposed to tell her who she was?

Rubbing his eyes, with his thumb and
forefinger, he sighed. Better to get it over with. “Callie? I think
you better come over here a minute.”

Her head popped up from behind her laptop
screen. “What is it? You find something good in there?”

Anteros, tired of trying to explain things
without
explaining
things, hoped an
attempt at something closer to the truth wouldn’t end up being a
Hercules sized mistake. He lifted his hand and wiggled it in a
so-so motion. “Good may be pushing it, but it is interesting.”

His eyes tracked her as she got up and came
toward him. She was wearing the same yoga pants she’d had on
yesterday afternoon at the cabin and his mind short circuited,
fixing on the way she responded with such fire to his touch. Gods,
if only things could be different. If only what he was feeling
wasn’t a compulsion, but something real and from him alone.

“Interesting? How so?” Callie sat next to him
and the kiss of firelight dancing in her hair and burnishing her
skin a golden bronze did more to chase the evening chill from him
than the blazing logs themselves ever could.

Anteros’s heart sped up of its own accord, it
felt so real, like so much more than compulsion and lust. Was it
possible the all encompassing feelings she caused every time he
looked at her were more than the arrow working on him? Was there a
chance he really was falling in love with her?

“Teran?” A little chuckle bubbled in her
voice. “Earth to Teran.”

Anteros ducked his head and looked back down
at the open book. “Oh, sorry, lost my train of thought. Anyway, the
book, uh, what its saying may be a bit hard to believe. That is if
I’m reading it right.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes to
emphasize his point. “And I’m certain I am. You’re....” A weak
laugh fell flat, dying a quick death in his throat. “Okay, here
goes.

“Apparently you don’t just stand to inherit
some land and cabins here in Bandit Creek.” His collar felt tight
and he resisted the urge to tug it away from his throat.

Enough chasing nymphs already; just say
it.

“If you do what the book says, you also
inherit the Amazon throne.”

He counted to ten while Callie stared at him.
Then she started to giggle. “Amazon throne? What, as in ancient
warrior women who terrorized the world, living by their own rules
in a time where women might as well have been cattle?” Her giggle
ramped up to a laugh. “Women who, out battled and out partied the
best of them.”

Her eyebrows puckered. “Taking casual lovers
galore but never....” Her breath caught and her laughter sputtered
out. “Committed to anyone or ever got married?”

Anteros wasn’t sure what was going through
her head, or that she’d confide in him but to his amazement, she
did.

“Teran, this is going to sound crazy but,”
she glanced at the open book in his lap then back up at him, “does
it, by any chance, say anything about a curse in there?”

His eyebrows pinched together. How did she
know that? Flipping to a page he’d marked earlier he traced the
feathery lines. “Actually, yes, right here near the end. It seems
after a particularly successful raid in the name of Athena, Goddess
of Wisdom; one of their best warriors fell in love and married one
of the captive men.”

“But I thought that was forbidden?”

“That’s just it, by marrying what amounted to
a slave, the warrior ticked off Athena, who took it as a personal
insult. As punishment, she decreed any descendants of Queen
Hyppolya, who dared give their heart to a man, would lose their
lovers to an untimely death before the year was out.”

Anteros knew it was all true. His Aunt Athena
tended to blow a bit on the epic side if she got her robes in a
knot over something. She often regretted it later, but once his
cousins, the Fates, wove a curse into their tapestry, there were no
‘do-overs’ allowed.

This particular incident was a sore spot for
his mother as the Goddess of Love and had been a bone of contention
between the two ever since.

Callie’s face was pale and she held her hand
up staring at her ring. The twin rubies, cradled by a serpentine
curve of diamonds, lit as they were from within by the firelight,
looked about as harmless as a baby dragon.

When she finally spoke her voice was void of
emotion. “Mom thought Grandee was crazy because she always went on
about a curse in the family. She tried warning my mother, if she
didn’t do as Grandee told her, Mom would die with a broken heart.
Then, when warnings didn’t work, Grandee tried to brow beat her and
later me into living like she did, taking a lover now and then, but
refusing to ever commit. They fought over it for as long as I can
remember.”

Flipping the book closed Callie brought the
ring closer and compared it with the matching pattern tooled into
the cover, and her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Teran,
my mother married three times.” Her hand started to shake and she
lifted saucer round eyes to his. “All of her husbands died within a
year of their wedding. She’s never had a first anniversary.”

So focused on Callie, Anteros never saw the
flutter of movement from the corner or heard the telltale twang
signaling release. By the time the flash of silver streaked through
the air, it was too late and before he could pull her out of the
way, it struck and vanished in an array of sparkles without a
sound.

Callie’s face broke into an angelic smile.
The sheer beauty of her looking at him with complete devotion in
her eyes as they fluttered shut and she slumped forward into his
arms, was both a dream and nightmare in one.

“Noooo!”

Cradling her head in one hand, Anteros heart
lodged in his throat, as he laid her gently down on the sofa and
his vision clouded as anger welled up. He brushed the back of his
fingers on her cheek then exploded into motion, flying across the
room.

A vague shape was dissipating fast,
dissolving into mist before his eyes, but not before Anteros made
out the face within. “Eros! You bastard!

Summoning whatever abilities were still at
his command Anteros funneled a jolt of power down his arm and
thrust his hand directly into the vaporous cloud. “Why?” Clenching
his fist exactly where his brother’s throat would be if he were in
corporal form, he slammed the blast of power home. “Get back here,
damn you!”

Matter intermittently filled his hand,
finally turning solid and Anteros snarled into the perfect mirror
of his own visage. “It wasn’t enough to destroy me? You had to do
this too! She is innocent! Why?”

“Achk.” Eros’s face turned a satisfying shade
of purple, and his hands clamped around Anteros wrist tight enough
to strain the archer’s bracer on his left forearm. “Arhkgk.” Eros’s
knee lifted the substantial weight of his biker boot straight up.
Anteros shifted at the last second or would’ve been listening to
all nine levels of Hell’s bells for the second time in one
week.

As he twisted out of reach, Anteros loosened
his grip on Eros throat and his brother was quick to react. He
fisted his hands and slamming his forearms down and broke Anteros’s
hold. Then kicked out and the overly thick sole of that same boot
connected, sending Anteros skidding into the table by the far
window.

“Tero, you dumb shit, chill!” Eros voice
sounded like a buzz saw instead of his normal smooth baritone,
giving Anteros a small measure of satisfaction. But before he could
untangle his long arms and legs from the chair he toppled, his
brother recovered and made himself heard quite clearly. “This is
the only way we can save you, you pigheaded Gorgon’s ass!”

“Me?” Anteros lay on the floor looking up at
his brother in shock. Was he kidding? “Save me!” Finally shucking
off the chair, he shot to his feet and growled. “How do you figure
that genius? That wasn’t a brass cocktail pick you shot me with.
And you aren’t the only one who read the book on how to screw with
another god, Brother-mine.” Anteros launched himself at Eros who
was busy rubbing his abused throat. “And you got it right didn’t
you? Dropping me on earth, you knew damn well I’d imprint on a
mortal you bastard!”

Mid-swing, Eros hand shot out and his bow
appeared. Sweeping the bottom up into his other hand to block his
brother’s fist, he pushed forward, altering the swing’s momentum
and slammed Anteros up against the wall. They were equal in size
but with Eros in possession of his bow commanding all his powers,
it was no contest.

“Stop squirming you idiot, and listen.” Eros
sent his own warning bolt through the bow gaining his brother’s
attention. “Tero, shut up before you say something you’ll feel even
more stupid for later.” Anteros struggles finally stilled with the
bow pinning him. “You think we don’t know what’s been going on?
Huh? Even if Hades hadn’t tipped Mother off, it was already
obvious.”

Stunned, all the fight drained out of
Anteros. What? Uncle Hades ratted him out – to his
mother?

“Don’t looked so shocked, little Bro. ‘Uncle
Big Bad and Moody’ owed her for brokering the deal with
Persephone’s mother. When Demeter went all ‘Romeo and Juliet’ over
Hades relationship with her daughter, if it weren’t for Mom, Auntie
Seph wouldn’t be down there with him even the six months of the
year she is. And you know how much Hades hates be indebted to
anyone.” Eros released the pressure but didn’t pull the bow away.
“Now, you ready to listen? Or we going dance a little more before
your ears start working?”

His brother had gained his attention, but
Anteros was still mad enough to hang him up by his silver hair.
With a shove he brushed past the bow and sidestepped out of reach,
never turning his back but managing to put himself between the
still unconscious Callie and Eros.

His own anger stared back at him from Eros’s
face and Anteros’s fists clenched and unclenched in frustration.
This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Squaring his shoulders, he
relaxed his stance but didn’t come off guard completely, not with
Callie vulnerable directly behind him. “You better not be high on
ambro-fever right now
Brother
. You’ve got
one minute to tell me what in Zeus’s name you’re yapping about and
two minutes to produce my bow – with its arrows.”

Hurt and shame flashed across Eros face
startling Anteros and he looked closer at his brother. The normally
wild look in his brother’s crystal eyes wasn’t there, nor was the
idiotic grin or nervous twitch typical of an ambro-fever victim.
Anteros world shifted further off its axis, Eros appeared
completely lucid.

“Tero, I can’t bring you your bow, but before
you go growing a hydra head about it, hear me out. I’m running out
of time.”

“What do you mean, running out of time?”

“Shut up and listen.” Had his brother just
told him to shut up? He hadn’t done that since he got sick. “We
know how close you are, our only hope was to try to dilute some of
the heartache you’re overloaded on – how? By making you fall in
love.” Eros swung his bow over his shoulder and crossed his arms in
front of his chest. “Like I said we know about the deal you made
with Hades, so don’t deny how far gone you are.”

Flinging his arm out behind and toward the
sofa, Anteros glared back. “Eros, shooting me is one thing. But.
She’s. Human. How does chaining her to me against her will or my
dying after one mortal lifetime, work out to saving me?” He made an
effort to unclamp his jaw so his words would quit grinding out
between his teeth and crossed his own arms, mirroring his twin.

A shout came from outside the room and both
their heads snapped in the direction of the door. In unison, as
they’d done as children, they looked back at each other and
mouthed. “Busted.”

Old habits and childhood patterns die hard
and without thought, Eros reached out his hand. The broken table
and chair righted themselves and the blanket that had fallen on the
floor in front of the sofa neatly arranged itself over Callie’s
prone form.

Anteros stepped forward and pushed his
brother back into the shadows where anyone entering the room
wouldn’t be able to see him.

“Anteros, I’m sorry.”

A quick glance over his shoulder showed his
twin’s eyes quickly loosing substance but not sincerity or sanity.
“I don’t know how things will work out, but promise me you won’t
give up.”

The door to the parlor banged into the wall
as it flew open. “What in the world is going on in here? I heard a
crash like something got broken!” Mrs. Turnbull’s curler riddled
head, haloed by the light in the foyer, was far too similar too
Medusa’s ‘do’ for Anteros comfort. And the pencil lines usually
defining her eyebrows were missing, so he had to look close to
realize they were raised in concern.