For The Love Of A God (16 page)

Maia's heart broke. It split in two, just as the statue had split into pieces. He was talking crazy talk. But he still felt so good, and she didn't want to let go.

Eric squeezed her hard, kissed her face with hungry lips, and she let him. He stared down into her eyes, and she was amazed at what she saw there.

Sanity. Shining clear as day.

His breath coming hard, he continued, “I told myself you're better off without me. One day you'll meet a nice man who will give you a nice home and a nice family. But I don't want you to be with that man. I want you to be with me."

"I can't..."

"I want to watch you wake up every morning, and I want to take you to bed every night. I want you to be mine, forever."

He kissed her again, this time on the lips. Without even questioning why she'd do so, she opened her mouth to him, inviting his warm tongue to stroke hers. He tilted her head up, deepening the kiss. Maia felt her head begin to spin. Once again, images of a long-ago time raced through her head. Images of Eric robed as a golden god. Images of the spiteful Nemesis, cursing him.

Images of Eric loving her with his body and soul. Forever.

She broke away from his hungry mouth. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, tasting him, feeling how swollen his kiss had made it.

How could she ever live without his kisses?

And still, her logical brain told her to run. “You saved me. Again. Thank you. But I can't stay with you. I have to go."

She turned. As she expected, he pulled her back by the arm into a more forceful embrace and made her look at him. “Look, Maia, I've always been a selfish bastard. But then, you know the stories, don't you?"

"That's all they are. Stories."

"Hmm.” He smiled sadly. “Isn't there just a small part of you that would like to believe? In me?"

He looked so haunted, Maia couldn't help but feel for him. Even if his tale was fabricated, he apparently believed it. She was so moved, and when he reached for her cheek, she didn't flinch or pull away. But she couldn't look at him any longer. It hurt too much. Turning her head, she said, “Look, I'm sure this feels very real to you but..."

He turned her face back, daring her to look at him. As he held her, she felt a charge go through her body like a lightning bolt. He had her full attention now.

"If you don't want to believe in me, believe this. Someone is trying to kill you, Maia. Because of me. And unless you let me stay close to you, that person will succeed. When you're safe, if you still want to walk away from me, I'll let you go. But please, please, just let me protect you right now.” He let out a deep breath. “The statue didn't fall by itself, Maia. Come with me. Let me take care of you."

Maia knew she should have run in the opposite direction with as much speed as her wobbly legs could muster.

But she didn't. She let Eric hustle her out of the gallery and ran with him into the night.

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The next hour was a furious whirlwind of activity which left Maia's head spinning. They'd stopped at Eric's condo, where he retrieved a seriously dangerous-looking weapon. She'd seen such a sword before. Her dad had once unearthed an older, rusty version on a dig. This Spartan officer's sword was gleaming and vicious, and managed to look antique and brand-new at the same time. Eric slid it into an old-fashioned leather scabbard. Maia didn't even want to ask what it was for, and tried very hard not to contemplate that she was on the run with a lunatic who was as buff and well-armed as Hercules.

He then brought her to her apartment and made some calls. Specifically to museum executives and the head of security. She half listened as he gave a convincing story about her almost being squashed by a statue which had come loose from its plinth. They would find all the evidence they needed on security cameras, and he was helping Ms. Douglas get the help she needed in handling the aftermath of the terrible ordeal.

He went on to say neither he, nor Ms. Douglas, would be at the office for a while. She knew somehow their absences would never be questioned. Eric would make it okay. No one would question him.

When he finished, they sat still on the couch, looking at each other. Neither knew what to say. It was almost a relief when someone knocked on the door, as Maia was now completely spooked. When she jumped, Eric was quick to calm her.

"It's okay. I've enlisted some help from my ... family. It's just them.” He went to the door, and Maia watched as he opened it.

The first person through was a man she recognized, although she wasn't sure how. Within seconds, she realized it was the tall, dark-haired man who'd taken Sarah to the gala. He was as devastatingly handsome as he'd been that night, only he was dressed in torn jeans and a crisp Polo, instead of a tux.

He sauntered through the door and came right over to sit near her. He smelled incredible. Intoxicating, actually. Fruity and delicious. Maia's head spun a little. She had the disturbing sensation of being caressed by vines of Concord grapes.

"Hey there, gorgeous,” said the tall man. “So you're the one who snagged my cousin.” He grinned and nodded appreciatively at her breasts.

"Watch it,” Eric growled from the door.

Confused as all hell, Maia turned back to the door and watched a couple walk through. They had to be the most beautiful people she'd ever seen in the world, a blond man and a dark-haired woman. They were holding hands and looking at her through appraising eyes. They sat down together, moving in sync, their hands always linked.

The man was dressed like a surfer, complete with board shorts. His T-shirt had seen better days, but seemed molded to his perfect figure. The woman was stylish and classy, wearing leggings which accentuated her long legs and a form-fitting tunic that was draped so well across her hourglass figure it had to be custom-designed. Like their wine-soaked friend, they were too incredibly lovely to be real.

And they, too, looked eerily familiar. Which was odd, because Maia knew she'd never met such perfect people in her life.

Until Eric.

Her sense of growing unease was heightened by the fact that the couple carried bows and arrows. Golden ones, for the man. Silver, for the woman.

Eric closed the door and looked at her with great concern. He walked over and put a hand on her still-trembling shoulder. “Maia, honey, I need to do some introductions."

"Don't bother, Eryx,” said the man who smelled like the inside of a winery. “She knows who we are. It's written all over her face.” He leaned in toward her. “You know us, don't you, sweetheart?"

Bristling because the man had called Eric “Eryx,” perpetuating the cruel game, she spoke with a defensive tone, “I don't know what you mean. I've never met you before."

"Not in person, no,” said the woman with the silver arrows. “But as a student of Greek myth, you've seen countless images of our faces. You've heard our histories
ad nauseum
. You know us, Maia Douglas, just as you recognized Eryx the first moment you saw him."

As much as the woman's silky voice soothed Maia, her words made her tremble with fear. “His name is Eric Lord. Stop calling him that."

The blond man with the gold arrows laughed, and Maia could swear she saw little dancing suns in front of her eyes, twinkle lights which seemed to emanate from him and which almost blinded her. “We all take on an alias from time to time when it suits us. My sister here always laughs when I tell people to call me ‘Paul.’”

The woman rolled her eyes, but grinned. “It's just so predictable."

Maia sniffed. “Paul, as opposed to...?"

He looked her right in the eye, making the little dancing suns grow brighter. “I think you've already guessed."

"Enough of this conversation,” Eric interrupted. “We're making Maia uncomfortable.” He joined her on the couch, linking her hand with his. “That wasn't my aim."

"Who are these people, Eric? Tell me."

"If I tell you, will you suspend your disbelief for just a moment? Will you try to believe me, Maia?"

She stared back at him, her eyes stinging, wanting to believe, wanting to trust. And unable to do so. “I can't. I'm sorry."

He looked disappointed, but cupped her cheek to let her know he understood. He knew he was asking the impossible. “Well, then, we'll just have to show you."

Eric nodded at the others. As one, they stood and lined up in front of her. Eric frowned at her. “You'll need to shield your eyes. The room's about to get a little brighter."

There was a blinding flash, as if the sun had exploded right there in the room. Maia hid her eyes. Behind the insufficient shelter of her shaking hands, she saw only spots. It reminded her of the time she'd had mild sunstroke and had seen green dots beneath her eyelids. It took a moment for the feeling to subside, and even when it did, she was afraid to remove her hands from her eyes.

She knew it instinctively. Something had changed. Her world was changing. The air was crackling with tension all around her, and she thought she heard a faint buzzing sound.

Little by little, she pried her hands from her face, keeping her eyes closed. She finally opened one eye, then the other, and looked slowly up from under her dark lashes.

The sight which greeted her was so overwhelming she didn't know where to look first.

Beginning on her left, she turned to the dark-haired man. “I,” he said in a voice which seemed deeper, more penetrating than before, “am Dionysus. God of wine. Oh, and I like to think of myself as the god of sex, too. But then, they go so well together."

Maia's jaw dropped. His appearance had changed. He was still the same gorgeous man, but his modern clothing had disappeared. He was outfitted in gleaming white robes, and had laurel leaves entwined in his long, dark curls. And he was drinking from a seemingly ancient goblet which had materialized out of nowhere as well.

She gulped and turned to the blond man. His tanned skin glistened, as if lit from within. And there was plenty of it on display. His surfer attire had disappeared too, and he was only wearing a short toga-style robe that barely covered his golden assets. His feet were encased in gleaming, golden sandals, and his smile was the brightest she'd ever seen. He was beautiful.

Just as beautiful as the woman next to him, holding his hand. But where the man was impossibly fair, she seemed even darker and more exotic than before. Her perfect, strong body was garbed in a robe matching his, tied at the waist with a shiny silver braid. Her black hair was tied in bands that were so sparkly they could have been fashioned with moonlight. And her dark brown eyes seemed outlined in silver.

Maia realized they were the couple in the picture at Eric's condo. The heavenly twins. “Apollo and Artemis."

"God of the sun and goddess of the moon,” Artemis confirmed in her enticing, sing-song voice. “But then you already knew."

The biggest shock was still to come. Maia was afraid to look, but she knew she had to. Dragging her eyes away from the celestial brother and sister, she turned to the man she'd grown to love. As she looked at him, really looked at him, her eyes filled with tears and her heart palpitated.

He was incredible. More breathtakingly beautiful than the statue had ever been. He, too, was clad in Grecian clothing of old. His hair was blonder than blond. His eyes greener than green. Everything about him was enhanced, almost animated, he was so vibrant. His lips seemed fuller, his muscles more sculpted. The waves of his hair seemed to flow, as if blown by a non-existent fan. He wore sandals fashioned out of the softest of leathers and was carrying a copper shield, a reminder he was the son of Ares as much as Aphrodite.

And his face was full of love. For her.

"Maia. Say my name."

And as a shattered breath tore from her lungs, she tried. But her fevered brain refused to let her enunciate what she knew in her heart.

"You're ... Eric Lord!"

The moment the words were out of her mouth, her knees buckled and her eyes rolled back. Sweet darkness claimed her to give her respite from her strange reality.

Eric caught her as she fell, swooping her up easily, holding her weak body to his chest. The other gods clustered about them, curious about the mortal.

Artemis laid a cool hand on Maia's brow. “The little one fights hard, Eryx. I'm not certain you'll win her over. Perhaps it's best to erase her memory."

"No,” he uttered through clenched teeth. “I'll make her see. I have to."

"Sometimes mortals just don't want to know...” Apollo trailed off, his voice pained.

Eric glanced up at him. He knew Apollo had lost numerous lovers through the ages, women who had been terrified of his brilliance. Women who'd died, rather than accept him.

He wouldn't let Maia suffer a similar fate, and would certainly not let Nemesis get her either.

"I'll take her into the bedroom and see if I can revive her. Apollo, Artemis, guard the outside door in case Nemesis shows up. Dionysus, you take the living room."

"Always happy to help. Consider me your heavenly security detail. You kids run along and don't do anything I wouldn't do.” With a randy grin, he stood guard by the front door, while Apollo and Artemis transformed into a thin mist and disappeared under the door. “I never liked Nemesis anyway. See if I let her shrink my balls again."

After closing the bedroom door, Eric laid Maia down on her bed and sat next to her.

The poor thing. Her brain just couldn't deal with the bizarre information and had simply shut down. He'd seen it happen before, although not to him. Other than Chloe, there had never been anyone he'd cared about enough to show his true self to. And with Chloe, well, that had been another time and place. The people of ancient Greece were a more accepting lot. They weren't bred to be cynical and hard like today's people.

Maia wasn't cynical, nor was she hard. She was sensible and analytical, yet she still could not accept what was standing in front of her. And Eric only knew of a couple of ways to prove his godliness to her.

The first method made her faint. Revealing oneself in one's full glory had such an effect.