“I gave you some of my divinity. It was…it was just supposed to save you, but everything I do keeps having unexpected side effects with you. It’s like parts of you that have been dormant are starting to awake.”
“So today the wings, tomorrow the tusks?”
“I don’t know,” he said miserably. “This has never happened before. I’ve never—”
“Can it. Recriminations later. For now, I need to clean up and get to the hospital. Do you have a jacket I can use?” I didn’t have to say “oversized,” because with the width of his massive shoulders everything he had would hang on me.
Besides, whatever he gave me would do well enough. I had to get out of here and away from the look in his eyes that said there was nothing I could accuse him of that he didn’t already blame on himself. Another second and I might be trying to comfort him, let
Apollo grabbed my chin, gently, and now made me look at him. “Tori, this doesn’t change anything about you, you know. You’re still you. Still beautiful and amazing and vital. You saved the day. Not the Olympians or the heroes—you.”
“Great, pin a big ole medal on me. Maybe it will distract people
I backed out of his grip and closed myself in the bathroom. I was a wreck. Apollo was right, the police would have converged on me the second I set foot in the hospital.
I started with the tear tracks on my face, staining his white washcloth with dirt, makeup and blood. Then another for my clothes…and another. I rinsed grit from my mouth and brushed twigs, grass and dirt out of my hair, which still, miraculously, fell in waves rather than tangles, a testament to whatever industrial grade gunk they’d put in it.
In the end I looked halfway presentable. Pale and ragged, as one might expect from a woman whose fiance…or had I called him husband?…was in serious condition. I hoped I’d pass.
I stepped out of the bathroom five minutes from when I’d gone in, wearing determination like a shield.
“Give me one minute,” Apollo said, stepping in as soon as I was out and closing the door behind him.
It was two, but I used the time to find a blazer of his and roll up the sleeves. I was slipping out the door when he emerged. He caught the door before I could close it and slid out behind me.
“We’ll go together,” he said, “in case of trouble.”
I turned and glared, crossing my arms over my chest, which made my wings want to flare, as if I had feathers to ruffle. “I don’t need your help for this.”
“You’re getting it regardless. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out in the waiting room.”
“Fine,” I said, though it wasn’t fine at all. I didn’t want him there, sensing my every emotion through our strange link. If I broke down…well, I didn’t need an audience. It gave me a tiny sense of the vulnerability people felt when I poked around in their lives. No wonder the Rialto Bros. had kicked me out and my family still had no idea what to do with me. I was a freak. Now I had the wings to prove it.
Apollo swooped in and kissed me hard, his hands going to my hips. The suddenness of it made me catch my breath and made a hot spike of desire start in my stomach and finish up somewhere significantly lower. The shock of it brought me back to myself and I heaved him away, ready to slap his face…before I saw the look on it— satisfaction.
“What?” I asked. “What did you do that for?”
“You were feeling sorry for yourself. I figured the kiss would either turn you on or piss you off. Either way, no more pity.”
“Screw you,” I said, giving him my back and starting for the stairs.
“Any time,” he said softly.
I pretended not to hear and continued on my way, only stopping when I got to the front desk to ask about a cab. I’d already put Viggo through enough. “Ms. Karacis?” the desk guy asked.
“Yes.”
“You have a message. I took it myself.”
He grabbed it from an old-fashioned lattice of message boxes behind the counter and handed it to me. It was on hotel stationary, folded in half.
I read it as the hotel clerk tapped away on his keyboard.
Apollo sensed it the second my heart stopped. “Tori?”
“He’s gone,” I said. No inflection, no emotion. Dead.
“Who’s gone?”
“Armani. Nick. He’s gone.”
I had to hold tightly to the counter, my knuckles white.
“Gone where?”
“Home. He wants to be treated and heal at home. Without me. I didn’t even get to say good-bye.”
Apollo opened his arms, and this time I stepped into them willingly.
“Do you still want the cab?” the desk clerk asked.
Apollo shook his head. I could feel it through our hug. Then he guided me back toward the elevators.
“What do you want?” he asked. “A drink? Bed? The comfort of your family?”
“You,” I said. It slipped out before I could think, but I realized I meant it. “I want to be with someone who understands.”
The elevator came and he was so stunned he didn’t move until I did.
“Just hold me?” I asked as the door closed behind us.
“I can’t make any promises,” he said, more truthful than he had to be.
“That’s okay too,” I said, not knowing if it was true. But I wanted him—had
But now, without that, I realized I couldn’t make any promises either. If Apollo were to kiss me again, I couldn’t answer for where it would lead.
About the Author
Lucienne Diver does not actually come from circus folk, though you’d never know it to meet her family. She is, however, in no particular order, a wife, mother, book addict, sun-worshipper, mythology enthusiast, beader, travel-junkie, clothes horse and crazy person. In addition to the Latter-Day Olympians series for Samhain, she writes the Vamped series of young adult novels for Flux Books (
