Awakened Love Read online

  The behavior reminded me of something Rane had said about the gods going mad from Eros’ disappearing act. A passing comment about his patron, Ares, talking in a strange language, and Hermes babbling like a crazy man. Was the sickness hitting Hades too?

  “Leave me,” Hades barked. When I stood there staring, feeling helpless, he shouted, “Now!”

  I knew better than to anger the lord of the dead. Immediately, I returned to my bedroom, all black marble and dark silk.

  “Mistress Locke,” Melody greeted me with a bow.

  Words jammed in my throat.

  My servant stared at me for a moment, then got to work, undressing me as if she sensed I did not wish to talk. I let her, standing still like a doll being decorated and repositioned.

  “The master hasn’t been well for months,” Melody advised. I wondered if she could read my worries on my face so easily. “Shaking, sweating, losing his memory and mumbling to himself. Sometimes he loses form.”

  All things a human would suffer, not a mighty god.

  “I have to find Eros,” I whispered.

  “And the ones you miss,” Melody added, her eyes flicking to me then to the floor.

  “What?” I asked, pulling my arm away before she slipped my nightgown over me.

  “Sorry, mistress Locke.” Melody backed away, seemingly frightened that I might strike her. Something told me she was not well treated by her previous mistress.

  “Who?” My voice was filled with desperation to know.

  “The men you call for in your dreams,” she whispered, shaking.

  Invisible knives dug into my heart and I cried out, sinking to my knees on the floor.

  “I know a way out of the land of the dead,” Melody blurted, slumping beside me. “The way the queen left.”

  My gaze flew to my servant. How could I have been so stupid? That’s right. Persephone had been Hades’ prisoner too. The myths said she had escaped him. Why had I forgotten this? It was like I was trapped in my own eternal fog.

  Urgency to leave this realm coursed through my veins.

  “Where?” I asked, grabbing Melody by the elbows, almost shaking the answer from her.

  Chapter 2

  Locke

  Melody’s words bounced inside my skull. Tomorrow I would leave the palace, before Hades rose, to find the tunnel in the cave by the bottom of the mountain. It was probably an hour’s walk from here. Leaving now was pointless if I couldn’t see a thing.

  That night, I ripped the sheets from my bed, using one as a knapsack to store a few changes of clothes and some fruit Melody had left me. Contented with my decision, I lay in bed, excitement preventing me from sleeping.

  I thought about the possibility of seeing my men again. Mads with his fun and non-committal style, keeping me at bay, yet drawing me in because I saw through his facade. Rane, forever vigilant, my staunch protector, and with a wild beast lurking beneath the surface. Byron, my longest friend, kind, smart and strategic, yet domineering in the bedroom.

  My chest panged at the though of Byron. We hadn’t exactly left things on great terms. I’d been a dick and left him in the desert after his first kidnapping. To tell you the truth, using my Cupid powers had scared the shit out of me, and I’d worried I’d hurt him and Rane when I’d messed with their cords. Down here, I just looked forward to getting another chance to make things right with him.

  While thinking about them, I examined their golden cords, running my fingers along them as if I stroked a silky cat. From their cords I read that they each missed me as much as I did them, in their own strange ways. Every spare moment, Rane and Byron investigated ways to come and rescue me, to offer themselves as sacrifice. Mads knew the way into the underworld, but the bastard respected my wishes to save him and the others, even if he disagreed. Each of them was doing about as well as me in terms of coping. But Byron had especially taken it the hardest. Guilt wracked him for not forgiving me, for not telling me how he felt, for losing me again.

  If my heart could bleed, it was doing so right now. I clutched a pillow tight to my chest, fighting off sobs and wanting to explode.

  I felt a twitch in Byron’s cord, and I sat up, examining it. Somehow he’d felt me connecting to him, and now he called to me.

  “Locke,” he whispered. “Is that you?”

  Suddenly I was transported along his cord, as if sucked by a vacuum, through rock, soil, and finally bursting from the ground onto a couch. My eyes squinted at the bright and sunny living room lit with natural light. I remembered visiting this place once. It was Byron’s apartment, near where he’d taught college students at Boise University. For a moment, I wondered what had happened to that job after he’d ascended to the position of Athena’s avatar. Was he going to be unemployed on top of every other damn thing after this was all said and done?

  Dressed in a large pajama top that I recognized as belonging to him, I sat on his cream couch, glancing left and right at what seemed like an abandoned home. I was about to get up and look for him when he entered the room carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

  My heart soared into the heavens. It was Byron! My Byron, wearing chinos and a buttoned up chequered shirt that highlighted the breadth of his chest. I didn’t know whether to leap up and hug him because my brain whirred on a slower mode like an outdated computer.

  “Is that really you?” I asked, examining him carefully, clutching one leg to my chest.

  Dark eyes that matched his wavy hair. His tall, yet strong, gymnast type body. Dream or not, it was good to see him looking so very calm, especially since his eyes had burned with anger when we last spoke.

  Byron gave me an odd look that made me feel a little crazier than normal. “You should know; you contacted me.”

  Oh right. The cord. I had so much to learn about my powers and their capabilities.

  “I’m still dreaming my life away on a steel slab,” he continued. “I thought you were meant to fix everything and get Eros back.”

  Dammit. He was still captive? Hades had promised to help Rane, Mads, Byron and the others get out of the catacombs. That explained everything. Why we were talking. Why all the details in his home seemed fuzzy. Why he wasn’t still pissed with me. Everything seemed happy and peaceful in dream sequences like these.

  “I thought you got out,” I said, staring at him. “That was the deal I struck with Hades. I go with him and he helps you escape.”

  “It’s a long story,” Byron explained. “But we made it out of the catacombs. Suffice to say Hades’ promise didn’t extend to keeping us safe once we were above ground.”

  Fire scorched the inside of my stomach. Hades had cheated me?

  “Where are you now?” I asked Byron.

  “Not sure,” he replied. “They keep us drugged and unconscious. Some facility somewhere.”

  Urgency swelled in my chest. I had to get out of the underworld and find my lovers. Screw my deal with the lord of the dead. For now, at least we were together uninterrupted.

  “Here,” he said, handing me a white mug as plain as the rest of his home. Typical Byron. Sterile, white and standard seemed to be the theme in his home. Not one splash of color or originality. But I guess he liked it that way. “The one with the sugar bomb inside it is yours.”

  I laughed. He knew me too well. “Um, thank you.”

  God the hot, yet milky pale coffee was delicious. The underworld only stocked water and wine. Not much variety considering every food was offered for meals.

  So how was I even here with Byron? Was this some sort of telepathy? A projection of myself through the love cords? Yet the warm mug felt solid and hot between my palms. The coffee sharp on my tongue. His couch smooth against the back of my legs.

  Over the rim of the coffee cup, I gestured vaguely at my face, referring to the glint of silver that had flashed in Byron’s eyes. “I see you’ve still got the...”

  He laughed, a haunted kind of sound, but at least it wasn’t bitter like our last conversation where he’d choked me, b
laming me for turning him into an avatar. Hardly my fault if the goddess chose him, but I’d accept the blame for getting him into this mess, as well as being a coward who ran and left, leaving my dearest and oldest friend pissed with me.

  “Yes. Athena,” he said, leaning back into his seat beside me. “I got luckier than some of the others. She doesn’t loom a thousand feet in the sky unless there’s good reason, and most of the time, she’s just happy to watch through my eyes unless I’m doing something really dumb. Yusef, the man who was her avatar before, was some kind of genius military programmer, so it’s been interesting getting that dumped into my head.”

  Rane had mentioned that when he’d taken on the mantle of Ares, he’d downloaded all the memories of the previous avatars, reliving their lives, their horrors, their tribulations and love.

  The way Byron looked at me told me he wanted to say more but held back.

  “I’m glad you made your peace,” I said, still cautious. “Does that mean I should go, though? Athena’s not a huge fan of me or Cupid.”

  He tilted his head to one side in a fashion that nearly broke my heart because it was so familiar. “Do you want to go?”

  “No.” It came out so small and sad that I wanted to smack myself for sounding so pathetic. Like the girl who had no friends, the one whose mother used to ask her why she was so goddamn stupid whenever she had opened her mouth to ask a question.

  Byron didn’t seem to pick up on any of that. Instead he smiled at me and came to sit on the couch next to me, something soft and dreamy on his face. This is what he would look like, I decided, if he had actually forgiven me for everything that had happened to him, if maybe all of this dumb crap was behind us. But surely this was too good to be true. Maybe this was a dream after all. An all too convincing one.

  “Good,” Byron said. “I don’t want you to leave either.”

  My throat tightened, ready to eject the words I’d been meaning to say since the dark suits had separated us. “Byron…I’m sorry for leaving you…”

  “You can’t run anymore, Locke.” The firmness in voice told me he meant it. “I won’t stand for it.”

  His cord flared a dirty gold. Frustration. Confusion. Disappointment. Byron’s parents considered him an accidental child, and they always treated him so, never turning up to school plays, taking little interest in his schooling, leaving him home while they went out on weekends. From the dirty points in his cord, I interpreted that he carried rejection issues, which my actions had contributed to. The first time I had left back in college had crushed him. The second time I emerged in his life then ran had almost broken him. This told me there wouldn’t be a third, and I didn’t plan on it. Hell, I had my own abandonment issues. That’s why Byron and I gelled, because we were both fucked up in our own ways. I needed him as much as he needed me, and not just for those reasons. He was my rock of stability, of safety, of reason.

  By nature, I was flighty like a fricken bird. Prone to fly away at the first sign of danger. I’d done it all my life to protect myself. From my mother’s betrayal at siding with her sleaze ball husband when he molested me and her taking out her life’s disappointments on me. From fair-weather friends flitting away in the breeze when the next boyfriend came calling. From my first boyfriend cheating on me. That was the only way I knew how to stop the heartache. But there were times in your life when you had to face your demons, and now was one of them, even if it was a damn dream. I was still connected to Byron’s cord, reading his feelings, his perspective, and I doubted there’d be any difference if we were really sitting with each other.

  “I won’t,” I replied, biting my lip, finding this one of the hardest things I’d ever had to say.

  “I mean it, Locke.” Byron’s eyes turned dark and serious.

  My hands shook so hard I almost dropped my mug. “I know.”

  “I’ve had some time to think,” he said. “It’s not like I have anything else to do in this hellhole dream world. Athena’s put some things into perspective.”

  “Athena?” The goddess of war, wisdom and strategy was the last person I’d expect on my side, arguing my case.

  “She’s like my own personal psychologist,” he said, smiling so perfectly it took my breath away. “It’s not that she doesn’t like you, Locke. She doesn’t think you’re right for me. I need reliability, stability and support.”

  It felt like a bomb had exploded in my stomach. She was right. I wasn’t exactly reliable in tight spots, and I had a history of running at the first sign of danger. Stability might not be my best friend when I was still at college and worked irregular hours. Didn’t the fact that I’d lived in the same apartment for two years demonstrate some stability? As for support, I’d been there plenty for Byron, and he for me, and I certainly supported myself. But I think he meant it more in a way of strength and encouragement, the two things we both had never received from our parents. I could do that if he wanted it. I’d try for him. Perhaps Athena saw me incapable of those things. Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself.

  Growing up, my mum had hammered it into me that I wasn’t worthy of love. No one would want me. I’d end up alone and bitter like her. Running away from commitment, from friendships, from anything that tugged on my heartstrings seemed symptomatic of that programming. Maybe that was just who I was. Maybe Eros had chosen me to fix others, but curing myself just wasn’t in the cards.

  “Who am I to go against the goddess of wisdom?” I said, standing and pacing toward the coffee table.

  “Athena might know what’s in my mind,” Byron said, blocking me from leaving.

  Fuck. I was doing it again. Running when I didn’t feel good enough. Running when things got too hard. Athena was right. I was no good for Byron.

  “But she doesn’t know what’s in my heart,” he finished, and I almost burst into tears hearing those words. “Only you do, goddess of love.”

  I huffed a laugh. Goddess…far from it. But I wasn’t an avatar. Not like the rest of them. That was still a point of contention needing clarification. As far as I was concerned, I possessed the powers of Cupid, without the connection to the god which all the avatars had.

  Even with his words, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Inside him a battle waged between his heart and mind. Despite our differences, what made us bad for each other, he still cared for me. Love was something you couldn’t fight or deny. If anything, Cupid had taught me it was to hold onto the things you loved. I’d be damned if Athena came between Byron and I again.

  “Come here.” He took my coffee away, set both our mugs on the table and then pulled me over for a kiss, his hand cupping my cheek.

  For all that Byron and I had done, including some pretty sexy things together, this was as sweet as honey. Just like saying hello, my goodness, I missed you, don’t ever leave again. My chest ached at thinking about having to return to the underworld. At least now I had a way to spend some time with him. But for how long?

  The way Byron kissed me was intense, direct and needy. Not like how Rane kissed me, like an animal about to pounce on me, claim me as his and devour me afterward. Or the way Mads took his time, teasing me, using his tongue expertly for maximum pleasure. But that was fine, because they each had their own way of loving me. All three of them were so different, but at the bottom of it, it was all love, all perfect.

  Apparently, even in dreams or psychic connections you had to come up for air. Byron laughed a little, leaning back to examine me with a wonderfully content look on his face. I could see where his lips were a little redder from our kiss, and I touched my own, liking the sensitivity there.

  “God, this dream could go on forever for all I care,” he said softly.

  “That’s a funny thing for a dream to say,” I said with a slight smile.

  I loved this flirting. Hell, I loved him, and I wasn’t about to lose him again, no matter what some god thought. The gods weren’t perfect, neither were we, so who were they to judge when they’d had thousands of years of vi
ndictive spats?

  “Okay,” I said, shaking my head. “It figures that I get to dream about the fucked-up love of my life, and it turns into some kind of bizarre speculation on what the nature of reality is. Typical.”

  Something set off alarm bells in my head, and I reached over to take his hand, suddenly frightened I might lose him at any moment. Our hands clasped together felt as real as the kiss, the coffee, the mug and couch. But I knew this moment wouldn’t last forever. I still had to escape the underworld. He had to escape the prison the dark suits had him in. With or without my help.

  Once he finished chuckling, he asked, “So, have you found a way out of the underworld yet? Besides whatever this is?”

  I could have cursed his methodical mind. Of course he would ask that.

  “You’re the goddess of wisdom; you tell me,” I replied, giving him a little of his own medicine from earlier. My sass earned me a slap on my ass. “Fine. I’ve got a tip. I’m testing it tomorrow.”

  “That’s more like it,” Byron said.

  “You know, Mads knows the way inside the land of the dead,” I told him.

  Byron squeezed me tighter. “That dirty cretin.”

  “Such harsh words.” I smiled. “Don’t tell Rane, okay? He’ll break Mads’ face. I like his face. It’s handsome.”

  Pain stung Byron’s face for a moment. “You like him too?”

  “I like all of you equally,” I said, running my hands through his hair, but he pushed me away.

  “You called me the love of your life earlier.”

  “You’re getting mad at me again?”

  “I’m confused, that’s all.”

  “The avatar of the goddess of wisdom is confused?”

  Byron’s grip on me faltered and he stepped away. “Locke, I’m serious.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to lose him again. “You still are the love of my life. That never changed.”

  I called to his golden cord, making it flare with magic, hoping he might be able to see the same way Hades had caught me checking on Persephone’s. Byron’s eyes widened, the gold lightening his dark pupils.