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  “I couldn’t disagree more. It’s exactly what you need.” He struck a pose only a true fashion plate could pull off and smiled his best ‘charm the pants off them’ smile. “And you owe it to the deprived females trapped here in Backwoods-Ville to parade ‘Yours Truly’ around. You know, brighten the tedium of their everyday existence with a blast of my magnificence.”

  “Yo, can you say, head the size of a planet?” Jessie’s now green spiked head popped up from behind the newly installed kitchen island. “Full of yourself or what?”

  “Jessica my dear, one is only considered full of one’s self if there is no cause for one to be so. Hence I am not.” Christian’s body language suddenly morphed into something straight out of East L.A. “Cause yah, uh huh, I’z all dat, and you know it girlfriend, auight.”

  Callie’s jaw dropped and she couldn’t help smiling, since when had Christian gotten, well, funny?

  “Ha! Five bucks young lady; told you I’d get her to smile before lunch.”

  Jessie came out from behind the island and hit him with a rag, creating an amoeba splat of dust on the sleeve of his royal blue Armani shirt. “No go Slick-town, it’s after twelve o’clock, past lunch.”

  “No go, back at ya Sticks-Ville. It’s only after lunch if you’re a Bohemian punch the clock type. I for one, never eat lunch before one-thirty.” Christian’s usually perfectly manicured hand looked a little rough around the edges with his fingers wagging for Jessie to hand over the money. “Not my fault you weren’t more specific on the rules.”

  “Damn, you suck, you know that.” Jessie rammed her hand into the front pocket of her jeans and started fishing around.

  “Ah ah! Language my dear, language. Remember, others perceive who we are by our diction.”

  “Oh right.” Jessie cleared her throat and screwed up her face. “You sir, sucketh big.” She wasn’t doing very well hiding her grin and finally gave up. The transformation on her normally surly face was like night and day.

  Jessica had been hiding a very pretty girl under all that teenaged angst.

  Jessie’s hand pulled out a crinkled up ball of paper and she chucked it at Christian. Something niggled at the back of Callie’s mind and their good natured chatter faded to the background. Her heart sped up and a tiny buzzing started in her ears.

  Callie had no idea why but suddenly it was of the utmost importance she figure-out why Jessie’s pocket had her sitting on pins and needles. Replaying everything she could remember from the past several days, one picture flashed in her mind and she grabbed onto it. She was standing in front of a mirror and she’d pulled off Grandee’s ring...

  “Callie? You okay.”

  Christian’s voice came from somewhere at the far end of a tunnel and sounded like he was under water. Standing very slowly Callie stuck her hand in the right front pocket of her pants, wrapping her fingers around the contents and pulled them out in a closed fist.

  She focused on Christian’s face watching the clown disappear. “Callie, what’s wrong you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She couldn’t find her voice but slowly opened her hand and they both looked down at the same time; her face filled with dread, his with confusion.

  Among the bits of pocket lint, a few screws and other odds and sods one might carry around during a renovation, twin rubies twinkled in the weak winter sun coming in the new skylight directly above.

  All the scenes she’d been trying to stitch together that had stubbornly refused to line up in any coherent order, suddenly clicked like dominos falling into place, one cascading into the other.

  Looking up at Christian she gulped some air and hiccupped. “Chris?”

  He moved in slowly and lowered her back into her chair. “Jessica can you grab some water, please?”

  “On it Dude.”

  He pulled up another chair and sat beside her. “Callie, honey come on now, you’re starting to scare me here and you know I don’t do scare well. It causes wrinkles.”

  His attempt at humor fell flat and Callie separated the ring from the rest of the pocket jetsam and held it out. “With everything so busy over the last two days, I’d totally forgotten taking off Grandee’s ring.”

  Christian’s brow wrinkled. “Okay, that’s good isn’t it? I mean, you didn’t loose it or anything. There it is all safe and sound right?”

  The blood vacated her limbs leaving her cold and the ambient sounds in the room vanished. “Until this moment I thought I’d dreamt taking it off,” she gulped, “but if that were true, it wouldn’t have been off my finger in the first place, so it couldn’t be in this pocket.”

  Christian looked more confused than ever. “And...I know there’s an ‘and’ in here somewhere.”

  “And if I didn’t dream that, I didn’t dream the rest either.”

  The wonderful night she spent making love with Teran was real.

  Chapter 18

  “Umm Mother?” At the sound of his voice Psyche lifted her head. Eros stood rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet in front of the big screen with his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m just guessing here, but I’m thinking ‘Houston, we have a problem’ fits the current sitch.”

  Aphrodite glanced up from pulling on the new lavender suede boots Psyche had cajoled her into trying on as a peace offering. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

  Eros waved his hand at the screen and turned toward his mother. “Teros’s little mortal. She just broke through Morph’s mojo. She knows their ‘encounter’ wasn’t a dream.”

  “Hera’s beard!” Aphrodite was on her feet and spun toward Psyche who winced at the fury in her mother-in-law’s eyes. “Do you see now why you should never have put those ideas in Anteros’s head?”

  “Umm, don’t you mean Zeus’s beard, Hera doesn’t have one.” Psyche wanted to snatch the words back the second they left her lips.

  Thunder descended over Aphrodite’s face and Psyche’s wince turned to a cringe. “As far as I’m concerned she does. And you should know by now, Daughter, I always say exactly what I mean.” She flung her arm out and pointed one perfect finger like the barrel of a gun. “Just like when I said, if Eros didn’t need and love you like he does, I’d have tied your butt to the back of Apollo’s chariot and let him drag you through the sun a few times for giving Anteros that vial.”

  Eros stepped between them cupping his mother’s shoulders in his hands. “Mom, what’s done is done. Psyche knows she messed up. So let’s leave it at that, please.” Leaning down he planted a quick peck on her forehead. “Besides shouldn’t we be coming up with plan Delta to fix that?” his head tilted toward the screen, now showing Callie throwing something across the room.

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked around his arm at the scene. “Oh I have a plan all right, but in order to put it in play, I need to bedazzle a certain pig headed boat herder.” Reaching up she patted Eros cheek. “In the mean time you stay here and sit on her if you have to.” Aphrodite turned a pointed glare on Psyche, who had been very much hoping she’d been forgotten. “Any more interference and I may not be able to control my temper.” She dissolved into mist from under Eros hands and was gone, leaving Psyche thanking the Fates for the reprieve.

  She ventured out of her corner and stepped into the open circle of her husband’s arms. Tilting her face up to his, Psyche gulped. “What do you suppose she’ll do when she finds out I gave Tero his bow too?”

  “Okay, enough hide and seek. I know you’re out there.” Aphrodite booted a groping hand into the river and stepped back out of the way of another one, in disgust. “Charon! I’m not in the mood, now haul it in here boat boy!” Glancing down at the toe of her pretty purple boot her lip curled, a blob of goop dangled from the toe. “Crap, that’ll leave a mark.”

  A shape, slightly darker than the surrounding grey and around the size of the Titanic, materialized out of the roiling mist, bringing a booming voice with it. “Aphro! Good to see ya Darlin! What’s shaking?”

  “You shou
ld be. In your boots! Now get down from that tug so I can kick your butt properly. How dare you play games with my son!”

  The bow slid silently onto shore and laughter bounced across the endless cavern echoing loud enough to drown out the constant wailing of the damned frantically trying to latch onto the massive barge.

  “What? Don’t tell me he’s been whining about that last poker game? Loosing his ass to Hades was his own fault. I had nothing to do with it.”

  A figure floated down toward Aphrodite getting larger and larger the closer it came. His massive metal clad boots hit the shore creating a seismic rumble from the epicenter of his landing. She didn’t even flinch. Not that Charon wasn’t a sight to behold. Pain-in-the-butt demon always did have a way about him, probably because he was an enigma.

  Underneath his deep hooded black rag of a cloak, the dread Ferryman of Styxx, River of the Dead; Guardian of its evil twin waterway, Acheron River of Woe and Keeper of the Damned, was also six foot nine of stunningly attractive, devil take it, trickster extraordinaire.

  Floating up the foot and a half needed to reach him Aphrodite knocked the hood back and bopped him on the top of his dark head.

  “Oww!”

  The stunned look on his face nearly made her laugh and she pinched herself to retain her angry façade. Looking closer she had to pinch twice. “Since when do you wear beads in your hair and a red bandana?”

  Rubbing his head, he popped a cocky grin and wiggled his black eyebrows up and down. “Hey I figure if Johnny Depp can pull it off...” He let the thought trail off and winked.

  “Hmph, he’s a hunky mortal, you on the other hand are a demon.”

  “Yah, but I’m a damn handsome one.” He leaned back against the bow of his barge and cradled his hands behind his head. “Ha! Gottcha there, Aphs.”

  She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “No Demon, I’ve got you.” His ruddy features paled slightly but he maintained his cocky stance.

  “You mucked about in something not yours to muck with Ferryman. Now you’re going to fix it.”

  He stood straighter, a coldness blanketing his face. “That’ll all depend on what you’re on about.”

  “Anteros.”

  The cold turned to granite. “I won’t help stuff him in that cell to rot, Aphrodite, so you can—”

  “Ah ah, careful, don’t want to say something stupid. And I don’t want you to.” Aphrodite refrained from holding her breath. She needed him and would loose her bid if she showed any weakness.

  Looking at her sideways with his one eyebrow lifted, Charon crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Well then just what do you want?”

  “You to get to him, before he gets to Hades, and drag him back to the surface before midnight tonight.”

  His jaw dropped and she smiled. It wasn’t often anyone got the best of a demon, particularly this one. A little bubble of triumph and satisfaction for a hand well played warmed her insides.

  He snorted and planted his hands on his hips. “Oh, is that all. And while I’m at it, why don’t I bring Hades along in a pink tutu just for giggles?”

  Chapter 19

  Anteros’s fingers cramped and his arm shook from the strain of holding the bow taut too long. Sighting down the shaft of the arrow past the ominous gleam of its obsidian tip, Callie lay peacefully in the centre of the bed they’d created the most precious moments of his life in.

  All he had to do was release the arrow and she’d be free of him. If only it wasn’t killing him to do it. She would feel nothing; it would tear his heart out.

  Anteros closed his eyes and filled his lungs. Opening them he slowly exhaled and at the moment his lungs were empty he flexed the muscles in his hand and straightened his fingers releasing the arrow.

  It flew in slow motion straight and true. Halfway along its flight path Callie’s eyes opened and she sat up. Her sweet face smiled at him, her eyes brimming with love; she couldn’t see the arrow.

  Anteros was frozen, unable to move and could do nothing but watch till it sank deep in its target. He knew it would assimilate itself into her body without resistance and it would be all over.

  Only it didn’t.

  It struck sending her flying back into the headboard. The pain and shock on her face ripped him apart. He broke free of the invisible chains holding him and leapt onto the bed. Her lips were moving but a howling wind blasted through the room drowning out everything but its roar so he couldn’t hear her.

  “Callie!”

  Close enough to reach out to her Anteros could finally read the words on her lips. “I love you.”

  His hands never made contact. She turned to dust before his eyes and was carried away on the wind as it tore out the window.

  Silence descended and through his tears Anteros saw her journal lying in the center of the bed where she been a moment before. Reaching his shaking hand out for it, he watched it melt into the mattress on a disembodied wail of laugher.

  “Nooooo!”

  He bolted up and banged his head. “Shit!” Opening his gravel filled eyes Anteros looked around and breathed a sigh of relief. A dream; it was only a dream.

  After he’d removed all evidence of their time together and left the journal in his room with a full translation inside. He’d waited until right before dawn, as long as he could, then he’d shot her with his arrow. Only in reality, it had done what it was supposed to, not what he kept dreaming it had.

  Having been with her, he no longer had to be near her, the muscle cramps and pain were gone - all but the one chewing on the inside of his chest.

  Struggling to stand Anteros braced his hand on the rough stone of the dark tunnel and tripped over a bottle. He tossed a dirty look at it. Apparently self-inflicted pain wasn’t doing the trick either. It continued to roll out into the dim light of a torch flickering several feet above, rattling and clinking like a jackhammer to his skull, until it came to a stop against a boot he’d know anywhere.

  “Whoa Buddy, did you kill that one all by yourself. I’m impressed. Looks like it put up quite a fight though.”

  “Charon, don’t be a prick, I’m not in the mood.”

  “Huh, seems to be a lot of that going around.”

  Anteros looked up and groaned, damn demon had that look in his eye; the one that always resulted in his ass in a sling. “What?”

  Moving in to loom menacingly, Charon shot a toothy grin at him. “Seems there’s this dance going on tonight, and you can consider me the official invite.”

  Anteros glared right back at him. “A dance? Are you nuts? You know where I’m headed and it ain’t no dance, so move your carcass outta my way before I let my pissed off guts have a go at your shiny boots.” Angling his shoulder into his friend’s, Anteros gave a shove and made to go around him.

  Charon’s beefy arm shot out like a whip. His talon tipped hand grabbed Anteros by the back of the neck and dangled him a few inches off the ground. With no visible effort Charon swung him close enough Anteros could see the tiny flames banked in the back of his eyes. “Way I see it. This can go one of two ways. My way...” He looked up to the left then back at Anteros with an even wider grin. “Or, my way with my boot up your butt. Which is it?”

  “Well, since you put it that way—” Anteros flung his legs straight back and pushed with all his might sending his head straight into Charon’s nose. He stumbled under the impact and dropped Anteros like a rock.

  Anteros saw stars and already unsteady on his feet his rebellion didn’t last long. He’d taken all of two steps down the tunnel, before he found himself flat on his face with his arms stretched up behind him and Charon’s foot planted between his shoulder blades. “Okay, the boot it is then.”

  Anteros knew that tone, and realized it would only go worse on him if he kept fighting, but it didn’t mean the whole thing didn’t tick him off royally. “One question: since when have you been the type of S.O.B. to blind side a buddy? Wait, scratch that. Since when have you been the type to do it without giggling l
ike a nymph?”

  The demon removed his foot, swung Anteros to his feet with one hand and got up in his face. “Since I decided I’m more scared of yo momma than you.”

  Anteros’s lip curled and Charon leaned even closer. Sniff. “Whoa! You can’t go to a dance smelling like that. Damn, son, we gotta get you purdied up. No worries though, so happens it’s your lucky day Tero ‘old Buddy. Just call me your ‘Ferry God Demon! Ha! Get it!”

  Anteros groaned and rolled his eyes. “Who’s that make me then, ‘Cinderfella’?”

  Charon’s laughter sounded like a canon blast echoing off the tunnel walls only this time Anteros didn’t join in. He had a terrible feeling what ever his mother had up her sleeve involved Callie.

  Chapter 20

  Callie didn’t think she’d looked in the mirror as much over her entire life time as she had in the last week, and each time someone different seemed to look back at her. This time the face had a distant look, passable pretty; made up with a light hand, framed in a few tendrils of hair not caught in the ‘up-do’ but pale and missing the sparkle in the eyes the other faces had.

  “Callista, I mean Callie, you ready in there? We’re going to be late if you don’t get moving.”

  The smooth tone of Christian’s voice would be her anchor tonight. The shift in their relationship had taken the pressure off and he’d become a fast and true friend; exactly who she needed at her side to weather the evening.

  A tug on the bodice of the little black dress – emphasis on little – Jessie had talked her into buying in town earlier and a final deep inhale and exhale was all she had left to stall with. “Where’s the kick-butt Amazon when you need her?” Callie swallowed and slipped the last accessory on her finger, her grandmother’s ring. “Well till she shows up, guess it’ll be fake it till you make it Jamison.”

  “Callie, come on kiddo.”