I reached the entrance of Aphrodite's seconds later, and was prompted by the big bouncer in front of the door to dish out my ticket and ID. Glad I had the foresight to bring it, I fished both out, and while he checked them on the list I looked back down the road which I had come, expecting to see the stranger closer.
But he was gone.
Gaping, I took a step towards the way I had come, glancing both ways. Where the hell had he gone? Was I going crazy? Or, oh crap, was my ability now stretching so that I could see ghosts too? Was that guy a ghost?
"Ma'am," the bouncer said in a commanding tone, but I could sense an underlying confusion. I looked back at him, and I could see the suspicion on his face. He thought I was crazy.
I forced a smile, my brightest, Sue had always said, and watched at the bouncer relaxed and gave me a smile in return before handing me back my ID and ticket.
"You check out, please go in and I hope you enjoy your time at Aphrodite's." he stepped aside and bowed with a flourish that made me laugh before I stepped past him and into the gallery.
Immediately, music assaulted my body, making it thrum to the beat in a soothingly familiar way. My heart beat calmed, and my palms stopped sweating, and I took Sue's advice, plastered a smile on my face, and made my way all the way in.
The place was spacious, no walls dividing the rooms which showed different paintings and articles of clothing. The lights were enough to show me the way and allow me to see, but not bright enough for me to want to shade me eyes. The walls were an off cream color and the ceilings stretched at least ten feet or higher, with no ceiling tiles, leaving the metal frame exposed. The floor was a polished white tile that reflected all the people as they moved around the art that was strategically placed.
The work did not only consist of paintings, but clothes, as expected, but also several fountains and a few statues. Several of the fountains showed several naked women (important part hidden, of course) all leaning back and basking in the water as it fell. They all had long hair, and all were exceptionally beautiful and almost real enough to touch. I spent some time hovering around them, trying to get my bearings as well as figure out what I was going to do next.
All of worries about being over or under dressed were dashed when I looked at the men and women that moved and mingled around me. The men all wore suites of black or grey and the woman all wore black dressed or skirts with blouses. It made my shoulder blades relax, even though I hadn't noticed the tension there before, and I began to wander away from the fountains. I would run into a waiter or waitress now and then, dressed in elegant black and white, and they almost seemed to glide as they passed me with trays full of snacks and drinks. I didn't dare try and reach out for anything in fear I would bump them and cause the whole tray to fall over.
Oddly enough, I didn't feel so nervous anymore, it was almost as if I had entered in a zone I was familiar with. Some people looked at me as I pass by, and I simply smiled at them and continued on. Some gave me a small smile in return while some of the women turned away to whisper to each other. I rolled my eyes at that, realizing some people never grew out of pre k.
I moved from painting to painting, looking at them and even snapping pictures. No one seemed to notice or mind, as a matter of fact, several other guests were doing the same thing. Eventually, some people began to approach me, asking me who I was and what part I played in all of this. I was a new face to them, and honestly I didn't have much to say. Eventually I just settled with I was an observing guest and nothing more, and most of them left me alone, uninterested.
But one man would not leave me be. He had a camera around his neck and a note pad sticking out of his pocket, and I automatically pegged him for a reporter. His brown hair was slicked back, his face a little pudgy, and he wore large thick glasses that only amplified the ugly mud brown of his eyes. He hovered around me, but didn't take any pictures, though he did pass a lot of questions my way. Most of the time I tried to ignore him and look at the art, but he would always come back with more annoying questions.
I guess he eventually got tired of being ignored, because he drifted away from awhile and I thought I was finally home free. I felt my shoulders relax, not realizing how tense they had been, and was glad he was gone. I was actually able to enjoy myself, it was nothing like I had expected.
But I should have known that he would not be deterred for too long.
Back he came, and this time he took a direct approach to me. He came right in front of me a shoved a slender glass of champagne in my hand. I blinked in surprise at him, and almost dropped the glass before my hand could clamp around it.
"Hello, my name is Ricky, and I thought you would enjoy a drink." How old did I look, exactly? I didn't say anything to that affect, I just looked at him for a moment more and then sighed, I guess there was no getting around it.
"My name is Al, nice to meet you, Ricky. Thank you for the drink, I never thought about getting one." It was the truth, I hadn't even thought about touching the drinks. I smiled at him, and turned my head away again to admire the painting we were standing in front of. It was so colorful and vibrant; I loved tracing the lines with my eyes.
"Would you mind some company for a little while? I would also like to ask you a few questions."
This guy couldn't take a hint, could he? Still, I didn't want to be rude, so I just shrugged.
"I guess I could use some company, though as for the questions, I can't guarantee you any answers." Rather be honest than a liar.
"Why are you keeping yourself shrouded in mystery?" he shot off at me, and I blinked at my in surprise, my head turning so fast my hair flew around my shoulders.
"How am I keeping myself shrouded in mystery?" Was this guy on speed? He did seem a bit jittery.
"You have no answered any questions about yourself; it is almost as if you don't want anyone to know who you are or what part you played in this gallery." He pulled out his notepad and a pencil, and looked at me expectantly. I sighed again, and took a sip of champagne to bide time to think of something to say. I really didn't want anyone knowing I was from this small town. But once the drink touched my tongue I almost gagged but managed just a small grimace. Good god! Why did people pay so much to drink this stuff?
"Do you not like the drink?" he asked with a slight sneer in his voice, and it made me grit my teeth.
"No, I just had a bad thought." Yeah, he being that bad thought. "Look, I really don't know what you want to know about me."
"Well we could always start off with 'what is your name'?"
"I already gave you my name." I hedged, my fingers itching to reach up and start rubbing some of my hair between my fingers. This guy was making my skin crawl; whether it was because of the way he pushed or just his presence in general. I wanted to get away from him, but when I took a step back, he dogged me, matching me step for step. I sighed, admitted defeat, and glared at him.
"But you never gave me your last name. Or, where you are from? Or why you are here?"
"I told you why I am here!" I ground out through my teeth. "I was invited, just like everyone else. I have no special pedigree, I am not rich, and I had no part in this gallery."
"Now dear, don't make a liar of yourself before you even know if that is true." The voice that interrupted us was female, and was like milk chocolate and silk, utterly sensual and erotic. Ricky melted at the sound, his eyes going heavy, his body going a bit slack. The note pad and pencil even fell from his grip, and I watched all of this with one eye brow cocked. "Now, Ricky, you are not bothering this lovely young woman, are you?"
"No mam," Ricky said on a blissful sigh, and I shook my head. Men, honestly!
"Good, then be a good little boy and shoo." And just like that Ricky drifted off, still shrouded in his little bubble of bliss.
"So, what do we have here, mother?" a male voice joined the first, and it was just as wrapped up in sensuality as the females was. I slowly turned around to face my savior and her companion, but was surprised at what I came face to face with. The female was slender and tall, her body almost willowy, and her blond hair reached down to the back of her knees. Her eyes were a vibrant blue, and her skin was so flawless I almost found myself reaching out to touch it. She was dressed elegantly in a golden dress that molded to her slender but bountiful frame. I felt so lacking just standing in her presence, so I moved on to her companion.
Companions, I realized with surprise.
The man was dark haired and dark brown eyes to match. He had a broad chest and was fitted into a black suite that almost seemed out of place on him. His features were chiseled from stone, his cheek bones high and his lips firm and sensual, even while they were curled into a smile of greeting. I expected to see him on the front of a romance novel, not standing in the middle of an art gallery.
Then my gaze fell to his companion, and my jaw fell open. While the other woman seemed to ooze sensuality and her voice could easily sweep away a man's intentions, this woman radiated beauty and innocence. It was an amazing mix, one that was unexpected. She had a darker shade of blond hair than the other woman, her skin pale but perfectly dusted with a pink glow. She was small; her eyes a bright green, her lips full and stretched into a friendly smile. She almost seemed to glow, her hair flowing down her shoulders, and she sported a light blue strapless dress with open toed matching high heels that were a lot more practical than mine were.
"It is rude to stare, dear," the older woman snapped, and it was then that I realize my mouth was still hanging open, and I WAS still staring at her.
"Oh god!" I gasped, crimson flooding over my face in embarrassment. "I am so sorry; I really don't know what just came over me."
"Don't worry about it," she replied, her voice light and soothing, like the sound of water gently running over stones. It eased my tension and helped me straighten out my thoughts, and I was able to smile again, getting a firmer grip on myself. "I get it a lot, actually."
"I can imagine," I said with a light laugh, suddenly not knowing why I had just said that. But her date spoke up, saving me from further embarrassment.
"I hope Ricky was not causing you too much trouble." He said with a kind smile, and I had the feeling I was any other woman I would be getting tongue tied right about now with that smile. They all seemed so abnormally beautiful; I really had no clue what I was supposed for do.
Just make sure you don't drool, that should just about do it, I thought to myself, and immediately agreed to stick with that plan in case all else failed.
"No, I just didn't feel like answering any of his questions." I smiled in return, catching the irked look from the older woman. She apparently did not like being ignored for more than three seconds. "And who do I have to thank for my saving?"
"My name is Eros," he said, holding out his hand to shake mine. I raised my eye brows but took his hand, shaking it firmly before releasing it.
"Eros? As in, the god of love?" well, good to know my mother wasn't the only cruel one in the world to name their child something Greek.
"Yes," he answered surprise obvious on his face. "You know of the god?"
"Oh yes," I answered with a wave of my hand. "I have read every single mythology book I can get my hands on. The love between Eros and Psyche was one of my favorite romances. Not to mention his other name is cupid, and we celebrate him one day a year."
"Really?" he seemed even more surprised. "Even though the books say that he left her with their unborn child due to her betrayal and she had to go through tests from his mother just to get back to him? I don't think I have met a single woman who has read the story who didn't hate Eros for what he did. They all think he overacted, since in the end it was Psyche's sisters who pushed her towards the betrayal with their jealousy."
Ah, see, now we were hitting my territory.
"Well, since that book was written by the Romans you cannot expect it to be entirely accurate. But if you look around you can actually find an alternate version of the story, one that I find to much more likely."
"And that would be?"
"Well, after he left Psyche, his mother tied him up with chains so that no matter what he could not return to her. Telling him that he should have done what she asked of him in the first place, that all she had done was hurt him and betray him."
Eros raised his eyebrows, glancing over at the woman he had called mother earlier, so I risked a glance as well. She was ridged, looking away so I could not see what emotion was on her face. I opened my mouth to apologize, but his companion interrupted me.
"What happened after that?" she asked in that small voice of hers.
"Well, in the story, if I remember correctly, Eros heard Psyche calling for him. He realized his own mother's betrayal and his love for her, and it gave him the strength to break free of his chains and go to her."
All of our heads turned to Eros's mother when she snorted, a delicate sound, but a snort none the less.
"That is a rubbish alternative to the story." She snipped, glaring down at me. I swallowed, but raised my chin, determined not to be cowed by her for just repeating a myth.
"It may put Aphrodite in the wrong, but it is a wonderful story. And if anyone reads some measure of Greek mythology they are likely to know how jealous she could get and how she would strike out. She was the one who ordered Psyche to be up top of the mountain to be devoured by the beast merely because people said she was more beautiful. "
"One case, can you name another?" the woman asked, her body posture clearly saying she put me below her, and her gaze was challenging. My hand tightened on my class as I answered her challenge.
"King Minos's wife. She was the one who cursed her to fall into lust with the bull that was created by Poseidon for merely saying something ill about the goddess. Hence causing her to birth the Minotaur and then go crazy, suffering the labyrinth along with her poor son."
"You feel pity for that creature? The one who is known for killing seven men and seven women every year?"
"I don't believe you knew any better, for he was said to be more bull than human. Who might you be, anyways?" I asked, looking at all three of them.
"You may call me Anne; this is my son, Eros, and his wife."
Even though it was an introduction, she still managed to put so much posh into it that it made me want to grimace. This was a woman who believed everything she did was to prove that she was better than everyone around her.
"My name is Althaia; it is a pleasure to meet you." I smiled at each in turn, only getting a smile from Eros and his wife, while Anne just looked me up and down as if she had expected more and found me lacking. "What brings you to the gallery tonight?" everyone here but me seemed to have a purpose, so why shouldn't they?
"Oh dear, you simply don't catch on." Anne said in mock sympathy, and I hindered the need to stick my tongue out like a child and blow her a raspberry.
"I am afraid I don't," I said stiffly, clutching my drink to the point where I swear I heard the glass crackle.
"Well, no harm done, dear. I am the owner and the artist of most of these works."
"Well they are all lovely, I am enjoying myself immensely."
"I couldn't help but notice you seem to drawn to this particular piece." She nodded with her chin to the painting we were all standing in front of. It was true, I found myself unable to move away from this painting once I had laid eyes on it. I looked at it again, tracing each color and shape with my eyes, feeling in my chest that is was familiar in some way.
"Yes, I can't seem to make myself walk away from it." I admitted quietly, turning back to her with a smile.
"And what, may I ask, do you think this painting represents?"
"Hades, of course." The answer flew out of my mouth before I even had time to think of it. I frowned, looking down at the floor, trying to rack my brain to find where it had come from. I glanced back at the painting and realized it did fit the different hues of red and brown, the blue stillness of the water, the boat waiting idly by the side.
"You mean, like hell?" Eros asked, and I immediately shook my head.
"Hell is where you soul goes to suffer, the Greeks believed that Hades was just a place you soul resides after the fates cut your string. It was just a place to rest before you drank the waters of forgetfulness and moved on to be reborn." But halfway through, Eros began to smile, and I again felt a blush come to my cheeks. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"
"Yes, but I do have to admit that I don't think anyone has ever explained it as passionately as you just did."
"Thank you," I took the compliment even though it was embarrassing.
"Well, anyways dear, would you like to come back the private room with me and have something to drink? I think I would love to speak more in depth with you about this whole Greek mythology." Even though Anne seemed like she was being sincere, something told me not to go with her, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Eros shot his mother a confused look, but she didn't seem to notice it. She was staring holes in me, waiting for my response, and I had a feeling she was not going to take no for an answer.
"Uh, I . . ." I was wracking my brain, trying to think of something to say, something to get me out of this situation.
"Ah, there you are, I hope you didn't get too lonely while I was away." The voice was rumbly and masculine, and I felt a hand settle on my lower back, big and oozing heat. Immediately a woodsy smell enveloped me, and I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. It was comforting and sexy, and it stopped me from jumping in surprise. I looked up at this stranger, and found myself drowning in eyes the color of the ocean after a storm, hair as black as night just long enough to touch his forehead. And boy, did I have to look up; he easily towered over me, even though I was five foot six with the extra three inches the heels gave me. He had to be reaching six foot, and his skin was perfectly tanned, his firm lips curved into a smile of affection and pleasure. He wore a tux that matched his eyes, and made him look out of place among the dark blue and black. The material was soft; I could feel it against my bare shoulder while he held his hand against me.
My heart started to pound, and my mouth went dry, and my stomach clenched hotly. I had never had a response to a man like this, but then again I had never been approached by someone with his level of attraction. He looked to be not much older than me, and maybe slightly younger than Eros. I swallowed, trying to soother my suddenly dry lips, but it didn't work, so when I opened my mouth, nothing came out.
"Well, well, look who it is." Anne's sneering voice brought me out of it, and I snapped to look at her. She was looking at my new companion with utter hatred, not just distaste, and when I looked back up at him, he merely gave her a smug smile in return. ,
"Always a pleasure, your highness." He said calmly, giving a slight bow at the waist.
Your highness?
"Don't mock me, you animal! If I could I would smite you where you stand!"
Animal? Smite? What the hell was going on?
My neck hurt from looking back and forth between them, and just when I thought things were going to get a whole lot worse, Eros saved the day.
"Mother, just let it go, let us go to the back." He said in a low voice, and Anne threw a glare in his direction to quite him. For a minute or more she continued to glare at the man at my side, and then she gave a huff like scream and stalked off in a flurry of designer clothes. Before they went after her, Eros and his wife gave a nod to him, and he gave them one in return.
"Can things get any friggin weirder tonight?" I said aloud to myself, sighing and looking down at the drink in my hand. My mouth was still parched, but I thought I would rather go through dehydration than take another sip of it. Just as I was about to give in and take a sip, my new companion took it from hand softly.
"I noticed you don't seem to enjoy this stuff," he said simply, and with a grace at odd with his size, he swapped it with a glass of orange juice as a waiter floated by. "Here," he said with a wide smile that made me feel like swooning.
Get ahold of yourself!
"Thank you," I said with relief and took a drink, sighing in pleasure.
"My pleasure," he said with a chuckle, and then turned to look at the painting. "This is a wonderful work of art." He admired, and I felt my opinion of his rise. Not only had he saved me and gotten me a drink, he knew a good painting when he saw it.
"I think so, too. Even though my best friend would laugh at that, since i haven't even taken a single art class in my life."
He laughed at that, a deep chest hearty sound that made an answering smile come to my lips.
"You don't have to be a certified artist to know a good painting when you see one."
"Sue would argue with you about that," I warned him.
"I would love to meet her," he said with a smile, and I realized I was talking with him so naturally and I didn't even know his name.
"I am sorry; my name is Al, thank you for saving me." I made a face and held out my hand to shake his. His eyes twinkled as he took it and instead of shaking it, he placed a kiss on the back. It was so old fashioned and unexpected I laughed loudly, drawing people's attention.
"You can call me Rion, and it was my pleasure."
"Why do I get an inkling that Rion is short for something?" I asked with a coy smile.
"I will spill if you will," he countered, and I gave a suffering sigh. I suddenly really wanted to know his name.
"My name is Althaia."
"Ah, healer," He nodded, almost as if it made sense.
"Yes," I said in surprise, tilting my head to look at him. "You know Greek?"
"Ah, yeah," he said rubbing the back of neck, suddenly looking shy. It was then I noticed he held a slight accent, a sexy accent. "I was born and raised in Greece."
"Seriously?" I gasped, thinking it was the coolest thing I had ever heard. "All I got was a lame name, so you got the lucky side."
"That is all subjective, Agapeemenee." He said softly, with a wealth of affection.
"What does that mean?" I asked, I could tell it was a Greek word, but he had said it without the accent, as if to allow me understand it.
"Ah, ah," he tsked, and then grinned at me. "You can have one question answered. Either my name, or what the translation to that word is, I am afraid I cannot give you both."
"That isn't fair; you purposefully dangled that in front of my face!" I accused, but he smiled, shameless and I glowered at him. "Fine, I will go with the original agreement, I want to know you full name." Because I was going to go home and Google the word, if I could manage to spell it that was.
"As you wish, Agapeemenee." He smiled brightly, and then leaned down closer to me, so close I could feel his breath on my ear and could smell the mint on his breath. "My full name is Asterion."
"That is such a cool name," I croaked, and it was all I could manage. His proximity was making my heart pound again and my stomach clench.
"Again, that is all subjective thought. I enjoy your name much more." He finally straightened, but he reached over and caught a piece of me hair between his fingers, rubbing it to feel the texture. He smiled at me when I looked at his hand in surprise. "I could not help myself; it looks like lines of silk."
I didn't really know how to respond, so I pulled out my camera to take a picture of the painting for Sue to look at later, and caught him watching me with a curious look.
"My best friend, Sue, should be here instead of me. I really don't know why I got invited since she is into all of this." I said with a wave of my hand to indicate the gallery. "She had demanded pictures of everything so that she doesn't feel left out."
"You are a good friend," he acknowledge with a nod of his head, his expression serious. I couldn't help but laugh at that, making him frown.
"Hardly, I just feel bad that I get to be here when she is not." Then I looked down at the camera in my hands, then back at him. "As a matter of fact, it is so weird that I am running into so many people with Greek names tonight, I don't think she will believe me." Then I looked him up and down, all six yummy feet of him. "I don't think she will believe you are real either." I admitted.
"Then we should take some pictures together to prove you are not going crazy," he said with a slow smile, and I blushed. But he took the camera from my hand and stopped a passing waiter, handing the camera to him and instructing him to take several photos. Then, he wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer to his side, the painting behind us. My skin tingled being so close to him, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. The waiter snapped the first picture, the flash almost blinding me, and I had to rapidly blink to see again.
I almost leapt out of my skin when I felt Rion's breath on my throat. He had leaned down and was now close enough that I could have kissed him if I had the guts.
"Do not be so tense with me, kardia mou glyka." He breathed the words into my skin, and this time he put an accent into it, and it was the sexiest thing ever. For a moment I didn't feel like a nineteen year old girl who was in a place she didn't belong. I didn't feel like I had even avoided guys like the plague. I didn't feel like I was tormented and teased all my life because of my stupid name.
No, right now I felt like a woman, a woman who was being hit on by a man that was hot enough to burn holes in his clothes. Every female who looked his way sighed with longing, and yet his whole attention was on me and no one else.
I turned my head to look up into his eyes, and felt every muscle in my body relax, and I leaned more into him. Another picture snapped but I didn't even really notice. My lips were curving up into a smile to match his own, it was contagious.
"Though I like looking into your eyes, we may want to look at the camera for at least one picture."
I also liked his humor.
Without a word we both turned to look at the camera, and this time I wasn't tense, the smile came easy, and I was keenly aware of the man at my side.
Too bad after this I would probably never see him again.
Later that night, I lay in bed, looking through the pictures I had taken of the gallery. Okay, that was a lie; I was looking at the pictures I had taken with Rion. Just looking at the pictures made me giddy with excitement, even though I could still not shake the disbelief that he wasn't a dream, a perfect dream that my desperate mind had conjured up because I was lonely.
He had been too perfect after the pictures were taken. We had wandered around the rest of the gallery, drawing the eyes of everyone there as we laughed and talked with abandon. He had made me laugh like I hadn't in a long time, and soon I eventually forgot where I was. Half the time I wasn't even paying any attention to the art, just to him and the way he moved. I found myself so attuned to him that by the time I even noticed anything else, most of the people were gone. It was well after midnight, and the gallery was closing.
I still remember the look he gave me as he stood in front of the gallery and watched me walk down the street on my way home. I wasn't even worried about the shadowed stranger; I was too giddy from a wonderful night.
After a hot shower I had climbed into bed, but I still couldn't sleep. So, I had decided to look at the pictures, even though when I found the ones of us together, I could not make myself move on. I looked like a completely different person standing next to him. Sensual and confident, I would have never believe that were me if I hadn't been there.
Would I ever see him again, though?
My heart constricted with the thought, and I clutched the camera to my chest.
"Asterion," I said with a sigh, closing my eyes to picture him.
"Uhg, you will never speak of that vile man in my presence!" the voice startled me, and I jolted up in bed, finding Anne from the gallery standing in the middle of my bed room, wearing a white robe that showed more that is covered.
"What the hell!" I gasped, looking around, wondering if she had been hiding in here all along, or some other way she could have gotten in.
"Language, a lady must always be a lady." She scolded me, putting her hands on her hips, showing off perfectly manicured nails.
"How on earth did you get in my bed room?" I demanded, dropping the camera and looking for something I could use as a weapon, because this woman was obviously a phsyco! But the only thing I could find were books, and I didn't care if I were dying, I would never throw one of them in my own defense.
"I am a goddess dear; I can go wherever I please." She said with a roll of her eyes, as if all of this should have been openly obvious.
"Are you crazy? What are you talking about, Anne?"
"Oh, do not call me buy that ridiculous mortal name my son insists I use whenever I am in mortal presence." She waved her hand, and I gritted my teeth.
"Then what should I call you?" Besides crazy lady!
"Aphrodite, of course." Again, as if this should have been openly obvious. But that gave me pause, and I paused, looking her over. She seemed to almost glow now in the dim light of my room, her hair loose and curling down her body. She smelled strongly of . . . was that apples? Yes it was apples and the sea. I swallowed heavily, trying to ignore the strong urge to inhale it deeply, or the tingly sensation her presence made me feel.
"Are you crazy?" I asked uncertainly, but the other half of my brain was fighting the sane part because it was starting to believe that she was saying to me. How else had she ended up in my bedroom? I was sleeping by the window, and my bed was too low for her to hide under. My door was still closed and so was the closet.
"I am not," she snapped, giving a frustrated sigh before rolling her eyes. "I am guessing you wish for a show of my mighty power?" And before I could even say something, she flicked her wrist and the camera that had been sitting in her lap was now in her open palm. The screen was still lit and the picture of me and Rion still was there.
"Uhg, I cannot even stand the sight of his face." She said stiffly, before tossing the camera back upon the bed. But I was gaping at her, not believing what I had just seen. Hesitantly, I rubbed my eyes. Nope, she was still there. I pinched myself as hard as I could. No, she hadn't gone anywhere.
Was I not dreaming then? Could she actually be . . .?
"Oh my god!" I suddenly gasped, and she looked at my curiously. "I met Cupid and Psyche!"
"Oh, of course, I appear in your bed room, make a camera go from your lap to my hand, and the only thing you think is amazing is you met my son and his wife." She threw her hands up in the air, looking at the ceiling. "Where did all my respect go?"
"Respect? You are known for making mortals and god fall in love with each other for fun. You messed with people lives because you wanted too!"
"So?" she asked indignantly.
"So?" I gaped at her as if she had just grown three heads. "Are you kidding me?"
"I do not see how this is such a big deal. I have not done anything that the other gods have not done at some point in time."
"Yeah, you all are screwed up," I muttered with a sigh.
"No, mortals are the ones who are not right." She corrected me, and I was a little afraid to piss her off in case she did something to me. But that brought up a good point.
"Well, what do you want from me? I am mortal. There had to be some reason you are in my bed room, right?"
"You? A mortal?" she laughed a loud, the sound like the tinkling of bells. "Where on earth did you get that god awful notion?"
"I don't know what you are talking about." I huffed, crossing my arms and glaring at her. She stared at me for a second, a huge smile on her face, like this was all one big joke. Then, slowly, the smile began to fade as I did not look away or change expressions. Her look went from amusement to shock.
"Oh goddess, you really don't know?"
"Obviously not, so fill me in, or get out of my room!"
She did not even acknowledge my outburst, but just continued to look at me. It was starting to get more and more uncomfortable, and it was making me antsy to know what she was talking about.
"What do you have to say, Aphrodite?" I snapped, finally at my wits end. Did that mean that Rion had something to do with this? Was he a god also? Had I flirted with a god?
"I just do not understand how you can thin you are a mortal." She said quietly.
"I AM a mortal!" I said again, getting more and more frustrated by the second. And I was getting scared, really scared. She shook her head and my mouth went dry, watching her, waiting for what she was going to say. Something told me this was going to change my life.
"You are anything but mortal," she finally said, and I raised my eyebrows at the cryptic comment. What was that supposed to mean? I bled, I ate, and I cried, if I wasn't mortal, than what was I? But before I could either burst into tears or scream in frustration, she spoke again.
"How could the daughter of Hades possibly be so naïve?"