Shafted Read online

  Callie covered her face with her hands and flopped against the back of the couch. “Ahhhhhh!”

  The door to the bathroom across the way flew open with a bang and she peeked through her fingers.

  “What’s going on? Callie you okay?”

  Teran might have asked her the question but he was bearing down on Christian like a freight train. Great, another dose of testosterone flooding the room, that aught to help matters. The fact the dangerous undertone in his voice sounded like black velvet and made her knees weak was more than annoying.

  “Who is this guy? And what did he do to upset you?”

  Christian bolted out of his seat with his chin in the air and stuck his hand out. “Christian Stapleton.” Glancing at his abused knuckles and back up at Teran’s face, he swung his hand behind his back. “Callista’s fiancé. And you are?”

  The color bled from Teran’s face. “Fiancé?” The lift and fall of his Adam’s apple looked painful and his eye’s narrowed. “I see.”

  Was Teran jealous? Callie’s heart skipped at the thought.

  “In fact Callista and I were just discussing our travel plans back to Seattle on Sunday—”

  Callie’s jaw clenched. “Christian! That’s enough, we are not having this conversation right now but get it through you head please. I. Am. Not. Going. Back. To. Seattle.”

  Christian was more than exasperating but she still cared about him and she feared having to resort to cruelty before he’d finally get she was serious.

  Teran lit her up in ways she couldn’t put into words. Anger, frustration, passion, curiosity and a hint of something dangerous were a heady combination in that tall, dark, to die for, totally confusing package.

  She could kick herself for ever caring about, let alone dwelling on, that package and it was time to do something about all of it.

  “Christian, whether you leave now or Sunday that’s you’re choice, but either way you will be going back alone. Are we clear on that?”

  Without waiting for a response she turned on Teran. “And you! Check that temper Buddy, before I end up knocking you on your butt myself!” The shock on both their faces went a long way toward boosting her confidence. Seeing the two of them with their jaws hanging open was strangely empowering.

  “And another thing, I have two days to secure my inheritance, so you can either decide to help me or stand aside, because there’s a lot of work to do.”

  Wiping her hands on her legs she took a calming breath and waited for the protests to start. When both men stayed silent she was relieved. “Okay, good, thank you. Now, Christian, you said you were hungry. I’m sure if you ask Mrs. Turnbull she’d be able to find you something to tide you over till dinner.”

  Callie looked at Teran and almost reached out to push a lock of hair that had fallen into his face back in place and her confidence slipped. What if he didn’t want to help her anymore? She hid her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers. “Teran, if you’re still willing, I’d like to get started translating that journal.”

  Only after he nodded his dark head, did she realize she’d also held her breath waiting for his answer and hadn’t even noticed when Christian left the room.

  Chapter 11

  Anteros looked up from the journal and stared blankly at the pastoral scene depicted in the painting hanging over the fireplace and slowly shook his head. Why hadn’t he picked up on it sooner? All the clues had been right there.

  Callie’s grandmother: Polya Rayning, named for Hyppolya, the most famous of the reigning queens. Camp Penthesilea: after Hyppolya’s sister and Callista, another celebrated warrior of their line.

  A ripple of foreboding crept over Anteros’s scalp. This wasn’t a guide to the legendary Amazonian Book of Queens; it was the God-blasted Amazonian Book of Queens!

  No wonder the markings on the journal’s cover looked familiar, they matched the ring he’d seen on Callie’s hand. A ring designed in the image of Hyppolya’s golden corset girdle, the royal symbol of authority only the strongest and highest honored among the Amazons dared claim.

  The muscles in Anteros shoulders started to bunch up. Hades balls...Callie wasn’t just any mortal; she was a direct descent of the Amazon Queens.

  Long ago memories and tales, fit to shake even an immortal male’s fortitude, flashed through his head and ‘doomed’ took on a nasty new meaning. The Amazons were a race of women even the gods seldom messed with. One that made dating a black widow spider seem like a good idea in comparison.

  He imprinted on a bloody Amazon! And not just any one, if he was reading this book right, a cursed one. And he thought explaining to her who he was would be fun, how was he supposed to tell her who she was?

  Rubbing his eyes, with his thumb and forefinger, he sighed. Better to get it over with. “Callie? I think you better come over here a minute.”

  Her head popped up from behind her laptop screen. “What is it? You find something good in there?”

  Anteros, tired of trying to explain things without explaining things, hoped an attempt at something closer to the truth wouldn’t end up being a Hercules sized mistake. He lifted his hand and wiggled it in a so-so motion. “Good may be pushing it, but it is interesting.”

  His eyes tracked her as she got up and came toward him. She was wearing the same yoga pants she’d had on yesterday afternoon at the cabin and his mind short circuited, fixing on the way she responded with such fire to his touch. Gods, if only things could be different. If only what he was feeling wasn’t a compulsion, but something real and from him alone.

  “Interesting? How so?” Callie sat next to him and the kiss of firelight dancing in her hair and burnishing her skin a golden bronze did more to chase the evening chill from him than the blazing logs themselves ever could.

  Anteros’s heart sped up of its own accord, it felt so real, like so much more than compulsion and lust. Was it possible the all encompassing feelings she caused every time he looked at her were more than the arrow working on him? Was there a chance he really was falling in love with her?

  “Teran?” A little chuckle bubbled in her voice. “Earth to Teran.”

  Anteros ducked his head and looked back down at the open book. “Oh, sorry, lost my train of thought. Anyway, the book, uh, what its saying may be a bit hard to believe. That is if I’m reading it right.” He looked up at her through his eyelashes to emphasize his point. “And I’m certain I am. You’re....” A weak laugh fell flat, dying a quick death in his throat. “Okay, here goes.

  “Apparently you don’t just stand to inherit some land and cabins here in Bandit Creek.” His collar felt tight and he resisted the urge to tug it away from his throat.

  Enough chasing nymphs already; just say it.

  “If you do what the book says, you also inherit the Amazon throne.”

  He counted to ten while Callie stared at him. Then she started to giggle. “Amazon throne? What, as in ancient warrior women who terrorized the world, living by their own rules in a time where women might as well have been cattle?” Her giggle ramped up to a laugh. “Women who, out battled and out partied the best of them.”

  Her eyebrows puckered. “Taking casual lovers galore but never....” Her breath caught and her laughter sputtered out. “Committed to anyone or ever got married?”

  Anteros wasn’t sure what was going through her head, or that she’d confide in him but to his amazement, she did.

  “Teran, this is going to sound crazy but,” she glanced at the open book in his lap then back up at him, “does it, by any chance, say anything about a curse in there?”

  His eyebrows pinched together. How did she know that? Flipping to a page he’d marked earlier he traced the feathery lines. “Actually, yes, right here near the end. It seems after a particularly successful raid in the name of Athena, Goddess of Wisdom; one of their best warriors fell in love and married one of the captive men.”

  “But I thought that was forbidden?”

  “That’s just it, by marrying what am
ounted to a slave, the warrior ticked off Athena, who took it as a personal insult. As punishment, she decreed any descendants of Queen Hyppolya, who dared give their heart to a man, would lose their lovers to an untimely death before the year was out.”

  Anteros knew it was all true. His Aunt Athena tended to blow a bit on the epic side if she got her robes in a knot over something. She often regretted it later, but once his cousins, the Fates, wove a curse into their tapestry, there were no ‘do-overs’ allowed.

  This particular incident was a sore spot for his mother as the Goddess of Love and had been a bone of contention between the two ever since.

  Callie’s face was pale and she held her hand up staring at her ring. The twin rubies, cradled by a serpentine curve of diamonds, lit as they were from within by the firelight, looked about as harmless as a baby dragon.

  When she finally spoke her voice was void of emotion. “Mom thought Grandee was crazy because she always went on about a curse in the family. She tried warning my mother, if she didn’t do as Grandee told her, Mom would die with a broken heart. Then, when warnings didn’t work, Grandee tried to brow beat her and later me into living like she did, taking a lover now and then, but refusing to ever commit. They fought over it for as long as I can remember.”

  Flipping the book closed Callie brought the ring closer and compared it with the matching pattern tooled into the cover, and her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Teran, my mother married three times.” Her hand started to shake and she lifted saucer round eyes to his. “All of her husbands died within a year of their wedding. She’s never had a first anniversary.”

  So focused on Callie, Anteros never saw the flutter of movement from the corner or heard the telltale twang signaling release. By the time the flash of silver streaked through the air, it was too late and before he could pull her out of the way, it struck and vanished in an array of sparkles without a sound.

  Callie’s face broke into an angelic smile. The sheer beauty of her looking at him with complete devotion in her eyes as they fluttered shut and she slumped forward into his arms, was both a dream and nightmare in one.

  “Noooo!”

  Cradling her head in one hand, Anteros heart lodged in his throat, as he laid her gently down on the sofa and his vision clouded as anger welled up. He brushed the back of his fingers on her cheek then exploded into motion, flying across the room.

  A vague shape was dissipating fast, dissolving into mist before his eyes, but not before Anteros made out the face within. “Eros! You bastard!

  Summoning whatever abilities were still at his command Anteros funneled a jolt of power down his arm and thrust his hand directly into the vaporous cloud. “Why?” Clenching his fist exactly where his brother’s throat would be if he were in corporal form, he slammed the blast of power home. “Get back here, damn you!”

  Matter intermittently filled his hand, finally turning solid and Anteros snarled into the perfect mirror of his own visage. “It wasn’t enough to destroy me? You had to do this too! She is innocent! Why?”

  “Achk.” Eros’s face turned a satisfying shade of purple, and his hands clamped around Anteros wrist tight enough to strain the archer’s bracer on his left forearm. “Arhkgk.” Eros’s knee lifted the substantial weight of his biker boot straight up. Anteros shifted at the last second or would’ve been listening to all nine levels of Hell’s bells for the second time in one week.

  As he twisted out of reach, Anteros loosened his grip on Eros throat and his brother was quick to react. He fisted his hands and slamming his forearms down and broke Anteros’s hold. Then kicked out and the overly thick sole of that same boot connected, sending Anteros skidding into the table by the far window.

  “Tero, you dumb shit, chill!” Eros voice sounded like a buzz saw instead of his normal smooth baritone, giving Anteros a small measure of satisfaction. But before he could untangle his long arms and legs from the chair he toppled, his brother recovered and made himself heard quite clearly. “This is the only way we can save you, you pigheaded Gorgon’s ass!”

  “Me?” Anteros lay on the floor looking up at his brother in shock. Was he kidding? “Save me!” Finally shucking off the chair, he shot to his feet and growled. “How do you figure that genius? That wasn’t a brass cocktail pick you shot me with. And you aren’t the only one who read the book on how to screw with another god, Brother-mine.” Anteros launched himself at Eros who was busy rubbing his abused throat. “And you got it right didn’t you? Dropping me on earth, you knew damn well I’d imprint on a mortal you bastard!”

  Mid-swing, Eros hand shot out and his bow appeared. Sweeping the bottom up into his other hand to block his brother’s fist, he pushed forward, altering the swing’s momentum and slammed Anteros up against the wall. They were equal in size but with Eros in possession of his bow commanding all his powers, it was no contest.

  “Stop squirming you idiot, and listen.” Eros sent his own warning bolt through the bow gaining his brother’s attention. “Tero, shut up before you say something you’ll feel even more stupid for later.” Anteros struggles finally stilled with the bow pinning him. “You think we don’t know what’s been going on? Huh? Even if Hades hadn’t tipped Mother off, it was already obvious.”

  Stunned, all the fight drained out of Anteros. What? Uncle Hades ratted him out – to his mother?

  “Don’t looked so shocked, little Bro. ‘Uncle Big Bad and Moody’ owed her for brokering the deal with Persephone’s mother. When Demeter went all ‘Romeo and Juliet’ over Hades relationship with her daughter, if it weren’t for Mom, Auntie Seph wouldn’t be down there with him even the six months of the year she is. And you know how much Hades hates be indebted to anyone.” Eros released the pressure but didn’t pull the bow away. “Now, you ready to listen? Or we going dance a little more before your ears start working?”

  His brother had gained his attention, but Anteros was still mad enough to hang him up by his silver hair. With a shove he brushed past the bow and sidestepped out of reach, never turning his back but managing to put himself between the still unconscious Callie and Eros.

  His own anger stared back at him from Eros’s face and Anteros’s fists clenched and unclenched in frustration. This wasn’t getting them anywhere. Squaring his shoulders, he relaxed his stance but didn’t come off guard completely, not with Callie vulnerable directly behind him. “You better not be high on ambro-fever right now Brother. You’ve got one minute to tell me what in Zeus’s name you’re yapping about and two minutes to produce my bow – with its arrows.”

  Hurt and shame flashed across Eros face startling Anteros and he looked closer at his brother. The normally wild look in his brother’s crystal eyes wasn’t there, nor was the idiotic grin or nervous twitch typical of an ambro-fever victim. Anteros world shifted further off its axis, Eros appeared completely lucid.

  “Tero, I can’t bring you your bow, but before you go growing a hydra head about it, hear me out. I’m running out of time.”

  “What do you mean, running out of time?”

  “Shut up and listen.” Had his brother just told him to shut up? He hadn’t done that since he got sick. “We know how close you are, our only hope was to try to dilute some of the heartache you’re overloaded on – how? By making you fall in love.” Eros swung his bow over his shoulder and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Like I said we know about the deal you made with Hades, so don’t deny how far gone you are.”

  Flinging his arm out behind and toward the sofa, Anteros glared back. “Eros, shooting me is one thing. But. She’s. Human. How does chaining her to me against her will or my dying after one mortal lifetime, work out to saving me?” He made an effort to unclamp his jaw so his words would quit grinding out between his teeth and crossed his own arms, mirroring his twin.

  A shout came from outside the room and both their heads snapped in the direction of the door. In unison, as they’d done as children, they looked back at each other and mouthed. “Busted.”

>   Old habits and childhood patterns die hard and without thought, Eros reached out his hand. The broken table and chair righted themselves and the blanket that had fallen on the floor in front of the sofa neatly arranged itself over Callie’s prone form.

  Anteros stepped forward and pushed his brother back into the shadows where anyone entering the room wouldn’t be able to see him.

  “Anteros, I’m sorry.”

  A quick glance over his shoulder showed his twin’s eyes quickly loosing substance but not sincerity or sanity. “I don’t know how things will work out, but promise me you won’t give up.”

  The door to the parlor banged into the wall as it flew open. “What in the world is going on in here? I heard a crash like something got broken!” Mrs. Turnbull’s curler riddled head, haloed by the light in the foyer, was far too similar too Medusa’s ‘do’ for Anteros comfort. And the pencil lines usually defining her eyebrows were missing, so he had to look close to realize they were raised in concern.

  The connection with Eros he hadn’t sensed since his brother’s fall, rippled through Anteros as his twin shifted his corporeal form to mist. Shooting a last glance over his shoulder he caught Eros’s half salute and nod good-bye before he vanished.

  “What’s all the racket?” Christian burst in from the opposite side of the room leading from the kitchen and his eyes fell on Callie.

  “Callista! What’s this Neanderthal done to you baby?!”

  The next few moments became surreal and Anteros had to shake his head to remember he wasn’t watching a Greek tragedy.

  Looking from one to the other, he watched the inn keeper turn her gaze on him and cover her gaping mouth with her hands as though he were already convicted of a terrible crime. Christian leaped like some parody of a two legged gazelle over the coffee table to sweep Callie up in his arms. Hers dangled at awkward angles and her head lolled forward until her chin came to rest on his shoulder. Her eyes opened slowly and focused on the first thing in her line of sight.