Sunburn (6 page)

That was hard on a guy’s ego. The women who hadn’t lied had treated him as some sort of monster to be escaped. Why should he expect anything else from any other woman? Sure, modern times were different, but women never changed. That’s why he kept his liaisons quick and emotionless nowadays.

Artemis looked around. The restaurant was still empty, other than the waitstaff preparing for the evening service. She pulled Apollo over to a table and made him sit, and then sat next to him. “You’ve been having visions of her, haven’t you?”

He stared at her. “Gods, woman. I know you see into me, but could you make it less obvious?”

She offered him a hint of a satisfied smile. “One of the perks of being your twin. I know how the sight troubles you.” She looked at him, her gaze unrelenting, penetrating, even on him. “Tell me what you see.”

He swallowed the bile that filled his throat every time he recalled the horrible premonition. “Her. I see her. Patience. I didn’t always realize it was her. For a while, I couldn’t make out her face. I see her on a beach at night, wearing a nice dress. She’s looking for someone. She turns, and this hand comes out of nowhere. The hand of a demon from Hades. It reaches for her, reaches
into
her, and pulls out her heart. After that, I see nothing but darkness.”

Artemis frowned, the only indication she felt anything more than mild interest. “That’s unfortunate.”

He shook his head. “I … I don’t want to get involved, Artemis. I can’t. I’ve spent all this time trying to escape the prophecies. I’ve built a life here. Then this woman arrives and I feel as if everything is already turned upside down. I don’t want this.”

“Then let her die.”

All the blood drained out of his head. “How can you say that?”

“Well, brother, frankly it’s the only alternative. Either you want to help her live, which would require you getting to know her better, or you ignore the prophecy and let her go to her death. Which will it be?” She looked at him as if he were a simpleton who couldn’t make a decision between having the chicken or the fish for dinner.

He stood, glaring. “You really bug me sometimes, big sister. And that’s the truth.”

“Then I’ve done my job.” She smiled. “You say this demon seems to originate from Hades?”

“I can just tell he’s one of our uncle’s underlings. Although he’s probably disguised if he’s hanging out here.” He swore. “And if there’s one thing those bastard demons are good at, it’s keeping themselves hidden, even from gods.”

“Let me see what I can do. I will go pay a visit to Uncle Hades and see if he will spare any information for his least favorite niece.”

Apollo grinned. “You hate our uncle.”

“And he hates me. He’s never forgiven me for expressing my distaste in how he
courted
his wife.” She patted him on the cheek. “But I love you. Perhaps we can save your little mortal friend. And maybe, in the process, you’ll realize not every woman is to be despised.”

“Don’t hold your breath, sister.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Save some guacamole for me.” With that, Artemis smiled, punched him in the arm as they had when they were young gods, and disappeared.

“Seriously?” he demanded of the empty space, rubbing his arm. Apollo took one last look around his buffet, cursed his luck, and headed for the bar so he could pour himself a good, stiff drink.

* * * *

The demon watched from a distance as Patience walked to dinner with her friends.

Damn that woman. She foiled him at every turn. He’d never known someone so hard to kill.

Of course, in fairness to himself, he hadn’t been trying all that hard. He still had some time before his deadline approached, so he’d followed her to Mexico, thinking a holiday might be fun. Hades could be hot, but the Mayan Riviera was fun hot. He was really hoping he could sneak in some snorkeling in the cenotes before he was done.

A cleaning lady passed him in the lobby.
“Hola.”

He nodded, smiling out of his fake, human body.
“Hola.”
He liked using this body. It got him lots of female attention. He’d have to use it again on his next assignment. Nothing wrong with poking a few babes while he got the job done, was there?

Okay, focus.

He shouldn’t be pondering his next job or the cleaning lady’s cup size. He had to kill Patience O’Connor. His supervisors would demand an update soon, and he was in no position to disappoint. Not after his last botched assignment. People were still spotting Elvis when he resurfaced every couple of years for a packet of gum or to refresh his Twinkie supply.

He had to do this, and soon. Somehow, Patience had survived his last attempt. It was as if the blasted woman had a guardian angel looking over her shoulder. And he had to be discreet. It was always best, his boss said, to make the death appear natural. He’d already put up a few obstacles in Patience’s way, hoping to make her trip, but the woman kept getting back up again.

Man, he hated persistent, A-type personalities.

She couldn’t hold out forever. Eventually, he’d discover her true weakness, and it would prove her downfall. She had to die, plain and simple. She’d cheated Death, and Death wanted her back.

Mulling over a few ideas, the demon headed to the buffet for dinner. He’d heard the lobster was to die for!

* * * *

“I don’t wanna do the buffet,” Angie moaned. “I want to go to the Brazilian à la carte restaurant. I like meat on a stick,” she said, patting her nonexistent stomach.

“You can have your meat on a stick tomorrow,” Patience replied, pulling her friend along. “When I write my blog posts, customers always ask, ‘Have you been to the buffet?’ I want to be able to cross it off my list. Not every resort does the dinner buffet well. I need to see how Helios compares.” She nodded toward Doris, who was flirting with a Mexican stud muffin down the hall. “Doris. Are you coming?”

Doris waved at the guy and prowled back to them, grinning. “Hopefully I’ll be coming very hard later.” She flashed the man’s room card at them, and then tucked it into her bag. “All over him.”

Patience flung open the door to the buffet but then rounded on her friend. “God, you’re insatiable! Aren’t you worried you’ll get a disease?”

Doris shrugged. “Please, I’m a medical researcher. Whatever eet is, I have a cure for eet.”

Patience walked ahead of them into the buffet restaurant, wishing she had a measure of her friend’s bravery, or a modicum of her insanity. Maybe she should just throw caution to the wind, like Angie and Doris had suggested, and try sleeping around on this trip. She hated to admit it, but she’d been feeling, well,
unsatisfied
all day. The sort of dissatisfaction even her favorite vibrator hadn’t been able to assuage during a quiet moment in her room.

It was time to face it. She was damned horny.

And it was all because of that ridiculous, Jimmy Buffet-worshipping Apollo Delos! Ever since he’d kissed her in front of Claude and Gilles, she couldn’t stop thinking of him. And when he’d perpetuated her lunacy by sliding his hot fingers under her bikini strap, it had almost sent her over the edge.

Even Mr. Velvet, her cherished vibrator, hadn’t been able to put her out of her misery.

She took a deep breath, smiled at the maître d’ as he showed them to a table, and tried to forget Apollo. She didn’t have room in her life for men in general, never mind devastatingly beautiful ones who would disappear as soon as she got on the plane back to Buffalo. It was time to get real and forget him.

Mr. Velvet would have to do for now.

They sat at their table. The maître d’ walked away and Apollo appeared.

“Can I get you ladies a drink this evening?”

Patience stared at him, bug-eyed. “What are you doing
here
now? Do you work everywhere in this resort?”

Angie elbowed her. “Don’t be rude, Patience!”

She stammered. “It’s … it’s just that…Well, this is a buffet. Don’t we serve ourselves?”

“Yes. But we bring you the drinks.” Apollo narrowed his eyes, making her uncomfortable. “I have a nice guava juice this evening.”

She stared at him. Guava juice was the furthest thing from her mind. As Angie and Doris mulled over the description of each cocktail on the drinks menu, Patience gawked at him. And he kept darting annoyed looks back. The sexy, blond bastard!

He’d left his beach-bum attire back in his room tonight. Instead, he was dressed in soft linen pants that showed off each muscle in his impossibly toned legs. He was wearing a nice, navy blue shirt, cotton so fine it begged you to touch it, and it just flowed over the ripples in his arms and chest. The first couple of buttons were undone at the top, exposing blond hairs on his chest. Patience stared at those hairs, transfixed by their unearthly golden shimmer.

He leaned toward her. “Have you decided what you’d like?” His sweet breath poured over her.

A sharp pleasure/pain seized her pussy. She shifted in her seat, feeling wetness in her panties. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

His lips tightened. “Pardon?”

“Guava!” she all but shouted in response. She swallowed. “Please.”

His eyes dipped to her collarbone, lingered there, and she saw the strained lines in his neck. He hurried off to get the drinks.

“What’s the matter with you?” Doris asked, perturbed. “You’re acting like a crazy person.”

Angie giggled and tore off a huge hunk of bread from the basket sitting on the table. “Someone’s got the hots for the bartender!”

“I do not. Take that back!”

“I will not,” replied Angie with a toss of her head.

Claude and Gilles appeared out of nowhere next to their table. Claude laughed. “Girls, girls, don’t fight. There’s enough of me to go around.”

Gilles did his best to peer down Patience’s neckline from where he was standing. “May we join you?”

Doris and Angie said “yes” the same time Patience said “no.”

“Never mind,” Patience muttered. “I’m going to the bathroom.” She marched off, distracted by Apollo, seriously contemplating manually pleasuring herself in one of the stalls so she wouldn’t look like such a perverted basket case.

What is wrong with me? Stop thinking of him!

But she was thinking of him so hard she plowed right into one of the waiters, one who happened to be carrying a stack of clean dishes. The man whooped, threw all his plates into the air, and sprinted away as they crashed around them. Patience just watched, in awe, as the dinnerware seemed to fall about her in slow motion. One of the plates hit her on its descent, slamming right into the inside of her left wrist. It fell at such a peculiar angle the hot dish shattered and a huge, jagged piece of it sliced into her arm.

She stared in horror. She was bleeding from the wrist. Profusely.

Her vein appeared to be severed. There was already blood all over her, dribbling into little pools on the floor beneath.

From somewhere out of her haze, Angie and Doris cried out for her. Her eyelids fluttered. Her body crumpled.

Shocked as she was, she was cognizant of a strong pair of hands bearing her, carrying her out of the restaurant.

The last thing Patience thought, before she lost consciousness, was she’d never gotten to try the lobster. She’d heard it was to die for.

Chapter 4

In the flurry of commotion that surrounded the wrist-slashing incident, Apollo was forced to do a little, quick clean-up. He tried to never use his powers in public. As Artemis had said, it was imperative to keep a low profile. However, he also had a business to run, and blood in the buffet was pretty much a no-no.

As he spirited the unconscious Patience away, he cast a spell of forgetfulness on everyone gathered there. He then turned his eyes on the mess of blood on the floor. Swiftly harnessing the power of the sun, he concentrated on the congealing puddles, making the blood dry until the scarlet stains disappeared. His staff cleaned up the dishes as if nothing supernatural had occurred. People resumed eating as if no harm was done.

He knew the truth, of course. Patience’s collision with the waiter was the work of the demon.

If only his powers extended to the point of recognizing the sick shit! However, demons from hell had their own powers, foremost among them hiding like the pansies they were.

All of this was his own fault. Because he … didn’t consider this woman a misshapen gargoyle, he couldn’t see the demon in the prophecy. He was missing the whole picture. Damn it! His hungry cock loved to get him in trouble!

He stared at his limp burden. Her head had fallen back, and her brown waves were falling over his arms, swishing against his skin, making him even stiffer. Only the state of her wrist kept him focused. He had to get her somewhere where he could heal her or she’d bleed out. She was already way too pale for his liking.

Once out of the restaurant, Apollo hid with her behind a massive palm tree. Thus camouflaged, he used his powers to vanish and rematerialize with her back in his room.

Without worrying about his fancy bedspread, he laid the bleeding woman on the bed.

He sat next to her and lifted her wounded arm. Touching his fingers to the slashed skin, he murmured one word over and over, invoking the healing power of the sun.

“
Ilios. Ilios. Ilios
.”

Within seconds, the wound closed itself and the blood disappeared, as if having already been washed away. There was no scar, no internal damage. Just Patience’s soft wrist, as it had been before the altercation.

Unable to help himself, Apollo held up her arm and kissed the site of the wound. And as he grazed his lips across her skin, far too anxiously for his liking, it wasn’t just because he was sealing the wound with his magic.

It was also because he just wanted to kiss her.

He stared at the slumbering Patience. She’d dressed for dinner and probably had no idea she was more saliva-stimulating than anything on his buffet table. She was wearing a pretty sundress, black with pink tropical flowers all over. It skimmed over all her beautiful curves, accentuating each blessed one. It had spaghetti straps, and he could see the black bra straps underneath, so lovely against her pale skin.