What a Goddess Wants (10 page)

What the hell had happened?

“Tess?” His voice sounded muffled. “You okay?”

Okay? Great Mother Goddess, she was more than okay.

“Yes. I’m fine.”

He turned his face into her neck, nuzzling his nose under her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin there. His cock twitched inside her and she tightened around him, eliciting another male groan.

“Babe, you do that again and I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”

She ran her hands through his hair before cradling his head in her palms, wanting to keep him right there. “Then I guess I’ll just have to take my chances. So far, things are looking up.”

Still, until she figured out what had just happened with her powers, he was probably right. They should take a break. With a sigh, she loosened her arms so he could lift her off his lap and set her on the bed.

He looked straight into her eyes, his so dark the pinpricks of white gleamed like diamonds. “Are you gonna tell me what just happened? Your eyes glowed, babe. Like they were lit from the inside.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “You’re sure that’s what you saw?”

He nodded. “You may have blown my mind, but I know what I saw. What the hell was that?”

Shaking her head, she sat back on the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest as he pulled up his pants then lay across the foot of the bed on his side, head propped on his hand.

Sweet Blessed Mother Goddess, the man was beautiful. A true throwback to the men of ancient Etruria. Broad, muscled, implacable, and unswerving. He’d pushed every one of her buttons and found a few more she hadn’t realized she had.

She’d never really fallen for the strong, silent type before. In her heyday as a beloved goddess, she’d liked young men who made her laugh and had the stamina to keep up with her, in bed and out. Artists and musicians, rakes and hellions. Men with that glint in their eyes and a devil-may-care attitude.

Gods didn’t usually do it for her, though she’d had her share of them. They were too sure of themselves by half and much too bossy, used to getting their own way and having everyone bow down to them.

Okay, maybe she’d been just a little guilty of that herself, but becoming obsolete certainly took some of the wind out of your sails.

Now, though, here she sat, with a man who was both supremely confident and too damn used to having his own way and yet…

“Why do I think you’re trying to avoid my question?” the object of her obsession asked in a droll voice. “And why are you looking at me like I’m chocolate cake and you’re PMSing?”

See? That’s why he was so fascinating to her. He was too sure of himself, too cocky, but he made her smile with his dry humor.

When was the last time a man had made her smile?

She raised an imperious eyebrow at him. “I’ll have you know, I don’t do PMS. Although chocolate cake would taste mighty fine eaten off your body.”

His cheeks flushed the slightest shade of pink, barely visible against his skin tone but there nonetheless. And her smile became a full-out grin… that died the second he shackled her ankle with his hand. The touch of his skin against hers made her want to melt into the sheets.

“I might be able to arrange that,” he said. “But first—”

“Tessa, Cal,” Salvatorus yelled from the first floor. “I’m back.”

The
salbinelli ’s
voice startled Tessa out of her daydreams of spreading chocolate frosting around Cal’s nipples and licking it off.

With a shake of his head, Cal broke their gaze and slid off the bed before holding out his hand to her. “Let’s go, Lady. Let’s see if the Goat-Man’s got any great ideas.”

***

Salvatorus didn’t have any great ideas. He had one fucking awful idea. He wanted to have a party. With goddesses.

Okay, Salvatorus hadn’t called it a party. He’d called it a strategy session, and before Cal had been able to open his mouth to protest, Nortia had appeared in Salvatorus’s living room. And that didn’t mean she walked through the door. One second she wasn’t there, and the next, she was holding court with Salvatorus fawning all over her.

The Etruscan Goddess of Fate wore bright red, stiletto-heeled pumps and a fuck-me black leather dress that molded to each of her generous curves like a second skin. Like Tessa, she was a blonde, but Nortia’s hair was silver and gold and she looked like a goddamned Barbie doll.

Tessa left Cal’s side to hug the woman who could have been her sister. Hell, she probably was her sister.

And his brain really was not going to go there. No way. No how.

“Ooh, Tess honey, where’d you get the eye candy? Are you willing to share, or can you get me one of my own?”

Nortia had let her bright blue gaze travel all the hell over him like he was a piece of meat, and like a geek at his first school dance, he’d made a beeline for the kitchen where he’d been holed up with a beer ever since.

“Jesus Christ, Goat-Legs. This is my worst fucking nightmare. And you know it, don’t you, you sick bastard?”

Salvatorus’s laugh had a maniacal sound to it. “Suck it up, Conan. This isn’t about you.”

Cal bared his teeth and actually growled at the
salbinelli
. The bastard knew just how to needle him… and how he felt about deities. That was probably why Salvatorus hadn’t told him the house was going to be infested with goddesses.

So what are you doing with Tessa?

Not going there, either. “Yeah, well, you think this is a smart idea, having them all in one place at one time? If Charun finds them, it’ll be like an all-you-can-eat buffet, for fuck’s sake.”

“
Vaffanculo
, Son. He’s not going to know they’re here. This place is untouchable and they’re all awake. You need to chill the fuck out. Nervousness does not become you.”

Salvatorus put the lid on the blender and hit the button, ruining perfectly good tequila by making it pink and prissy.

Cal picked up his glass of whiskey and took a healthy swallow. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Salvatorus snorted and stomped one hoof on the floor. “Yeah, you’re full of shit, Caligo. How long have we known each other? Forty years? Fifty, since I brought you up here?”

More like sixty, and Cal owed the guy his life, but he wasn’t going to give the
salbinelli
any more ammunition than he already had. In all that time, Salvatorus had never mentioned the circumstances that had brought them together. It still shamed Cal to even think about it.

To be chained, shackled like an animal, and forced to beat weaker men into bloody masses of broken flesh for rich men’s entertainment. His own stupidity had led to his imprisonment. And he owed a huge debt of gratitude to Salvatorus for getting him out.

To his credit, the
salbinelli
had never played that card to get Cal to help him. He didn’t need to.

Cal knew all too well what he owed Salvatorus. So he kept his mouth shut, knowing the guy would get around to saying what he had to say on his own schedule.

“Look, kid. I sent her to you for a reason. You know that, right?”

“Because you like to bust my balls.”

Salvatorus snorted. “Yeah, that was a benefit. But you’re a sucker for the damsel in distress. You can’t help yourself. I knew you’d protect her.”

“What about the others? Who’s going to protect them?”

Salvatorus began to pour the margaritas into glasses. “Don’t need to worry about them. At least, not yet. Charun’s focused on Tessa at the moment. Haven’t been able to figure out why. She’s one of the goddesses with the least amount of power left to her. Doesn’t make any damn sense.”

The
salbinelli
paused, his head cocked to the side as if listening. “Looks like they’re all here. Hey, do me a favor and grab the other tray, will ya?”

“Christ, now I’m a goddamned waiter,” Cal muttered under his breath but he followed Salvatorus’s lead. After a deep breath, he headed back into a situation that would put a healthy sense of fear in any man.

A room full of honest-to—huh, guess “honest-to-god” didn’t really fit in this situation, considering the room was full of real-life goddesses.

Though his father had frowned on anything resembling religion, his mother had insisted Cal be versed in the Etruscan pantheon since he was half Etruscan. At night, his mother would sit on his bed and tell him ancient stories about the exploits of the deities. About their petty jealousies and epic battles. She’d mostly concentrated on the gods, but he knew enough to know each of the six women by sight.

Nortia and Tessa sat on a love seat by the front window, which was draped in two layers of heavy cotton so no one from the outside could see in.

Lusna, Goddess of the Moon, sat cross-legged on an oversized chair facing the couch. Her midnight-black hair, shot through with streaks of pure moonlight, trailed down her back, and her gray eyes followed his every move as he entered.

The two redheads sitting on the couch had to be Turan, Goddess of Beauty, and Artume, Goddess of Nature.

He didn’t see the last woman until he’d entered the room. She sat in what looked like a haze of shadow in a dark corner, close to the other women but obviously apart. Her dark hair was neither black nor brown but somewhere in between, her eyes a curious pale blue and her features soft and lovely.

As Sal walked straight to her, the woman’s face lit up, a smile curving her lips. Just as quickly, she covered her reaction and her expression turned pleasant as she took the glass Salvatorus handed to her.

No one else seemed to notice the exchange as the other goddesses continued their quiet conversations. But Cal got the impression they were deliberately ignoring the goddess and the
salbinelli
.

Who the hell was she? What—

Fuck it. Not his business. None of this should be his business.

And yet, here he was in a roomful of Etruscan deities of the female persuasion, wondering how the hell he’d gotten dragged into saving them from the God of the Underworld.

No, not all of them.

Just one in particular.

His gaze shifted, caught, and tangled with Tessa’s sky-blue eyes. She stared back at him, her mouth turned up at the corners.

Desire began to burn through his blood, hot and thick, and the urge to toss her over his shoulder like a caveman and take her back upstairs beat in his chest. As if she could read his mind, her smile got just a little bit wicked and the glasses on the tray he was carrying did a little shimmy.

“I think I’ll take my drink before I’m wearing it,” Nortia drawled, snapping Cal’s attention back to what he was doing. “Do we tip with dollar bills down your pants, or is that only when you start to strip?”

“Nortia.” Tessa’s voice held a very soft edge. “Don’t.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Tess.” Artume sighed. “You know her bark’s worse than her bite.”

“But I do like to bite.” Nortia’s smile softened as Cal stiffened. “Don’t worry. I don’t poach. Well, not anymore.” Then she sighed. “Okay, I guess we should get this little meeting started.”

“Yes, we should. I don’t have much time,” the Shadow Goddess spoke, her voice a husky mix of smoke and honey. “I’ll be missed.”

“I know, Tilly,” Tessa turned to her. “But I’m very glad you could come. Because we need to talk about Charun.”

Ten minutes later, Tessa had finished filling in the goddesses on what was happening and Cal’s stomach had twisted into a tight knot.

“That bastard. I had no idea he was up to anything like this.”

Tilly, who Salvatorus had finally told Cal was Hinthial, Lady of the Shadows, started to pace the room like an expectant father.

“Of course you didn’t know.” Nortia waved one hand in the air as if batting away a fly. “Sit down, Tilly, you’re going to make me tired. Besides, you know what he’s like. He doesn’t tell anyone anything. Hell, no one’s spoken to him in centuries.”

“I have, though it has been a while.” Hinthial continued to pace. “Come to think of it, I don’t know where he’s staying in Aitás. Has he given any indication of why he’s targeting you?”

Tessa shook her head. “My impression is that he wants out. I don’t have any idea why.”

“So can’t we just ask him?” Artumes looked at Hinthial. “Maybe if we held a rational dialogue—”

“Oh, please.” Turan’s snort of laughter cut off her sister goddess. “When have you ever known Charun to be rational? He’s been down in the dark too long. And if we try to speak to him, he may be able to target us and send a demon for us. No, we need to find a way to strengthen the wards on the gate.”

“We could try to do it ourselves,” Nortia said.

“And if we fail, we could accidentally loosen the wards.” Turan shook her head. “I don’t think that’s an option as of yet.”

“But the only ones strong enough to do that are gone,” Nortia said.

“Not gone.” Lusna finally spoke, her tone coated in bitterness. “Just uninterested.”