- Home
- Abigail Owen
The Demigod Complex Page 5
The Demigod Complex Read online
Page 5
Feet heavy with her thoughts, she trudged up the stairs and through the doors into the foyer of the main hotel building.
“Everything okay?” Castor’s voice had her swinging her gaze sharply right as she walked in.
She frowned to find him lounging in one of the big leather chairs close to a big stone fireplace in the lobby, a cheerful fire crackling away, giving off a comforting campfire odor. While the early May days were warm enough, the nights were still crisply chilly, which was why she’d added a long brown sweater over her pink dress and changed out her heels for a pair of tall suede boots. “Were you waiting for me?”
He held up a leather-bound book, The Shining. “Nope.”
She moved closer, took the book from him, careful not to touch his fingers as she did, and flipped through the pages. “Creep-tastic.”
His mouth tilted up on one side. “It seemed appropriate, given the surroundings.”
She gave a hum of agreement. “You know this place is haunted, right?”
Castor tilted his head, studying her closely, something in his gaze she didn’t quite trust. “You believe in ghosts?”
She ignored the second comment—or tried to—then shrugged and handed the book back. “I know a couple ghosts, actually.”
“I guess you do then.”
She thumbed over her shoulder toward the stairs. “I’m going to our room now. Are you going to stay down here?”
He unfolded his long length from the overstuffed chair. “I’ll come up with you.”
Leia glanced over his shoulder as she nodded, and froze, her entire body going rigid with shock and screaming fear.
“Lyleia?” Castor’s voice brought her back to herself.
As she unfroze, her flight instinct kicked in hard. With a gasp, she ducked, then leaned over, peeking around Castor’s bulk, focused on a man laughing with a group of five or six other men. Kaios. The werewolf was still drop-dead handsome, still remarkably young looking for one so old. She’d bet money he was also still the same total and utter ass.
Her mind rattled with thoughts that she couldn’t quite piece together…
He was supposed to be dead.
The instinct that told her someone had broken into her apartment, twice, might have been right.
No way was it a coincidence that he appeared here now.
“Shit,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Anger disappeared as panic flipped her heart rate to max. She frantically scanned the room for an escape. Seeing none close enough, she stepped closer to Castor, practically burrowing into him, letting his size hide her.
“What the—” Castor glanced over his shoulder at whatever had captured her attention.
She yanked on his arm. “Don’t look,” she whispered. Werewolves had terrific hearing.
Castor whipped his head around only to stare down at her, his gaze almost comically a combination of worried and stunned at her behavior. “What’s going on?”
She peeped around her demigod shield. Crap. Kaios was walking this way. He’d see her any second. She glanced up at Castor, who stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Because she had.
“Kiss me,” she demanded.
His eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Only a few more seconds.
He shook his head. “You want me to—”
“Screw it,” she muttered.
Going up on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. Taken by surprise, he didn’t resist as she covered his lips with hers.
Castor stiffened against her, going totally unresponsive at first, which didn’t matter because she was more occupied with where her nemesis was in the room. But then he took over—large hands flat against her back, pressing her body closer to his, lips warm and so insistent that she went from distracted to completely and utterly focused…on Castor.
Electricity sizzled through her body, her nerves coming to glorious life at his every touch, starting from what his lips were doing, then spreading outward. Those lips, warm against her own—they mastered, they coaxed, they tempted and teased. She gave a small moan as he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips only to tangle with hers, brush against hers, when she opened to him on a whimper. His hands smoothed under her sweater, over her back to her hips, where he used a light grip to tug her in closer to his body, the ridge of his erection pressing into her belly.
For a demigod he was amazingly gentle. A warm glow of rightness joined the heat of passion. In his arms was where she was meant to be.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
The warning bells went off in her head. This was her boss. And a demigod. And a man who desperately wanted to avoid sexual complications and messy emotions. Nothing was right about this.
And she needed to run. Far and fast. Disappear.
With a different gasp, this one mortification, she jerked back, stepping out of Castor’s arms before he could stop her. Her hand flew to her lips, which throbbed from his touch. Oh, great gods, she’d just kissed her boss like the nymph she’d once been.
He pinned her with blazing blue eyes, skin tight across his cheekbones and around his eyes. “Wow.” His voice was low and raspy and skittered along her nerves in a delicious way.
A quick glance showed Kaios had left the room. Thank the gods.
She pulled her shoulders back. Time to act casual. “Thanks for helping me with that. I’m sorry if it got out of hand. I couldn’t think of any other way to avoid that son of a hellhound.”
Passion shifted to confusion as his brows lowered in a glower. “Helping you with what?”
Leia blinked at the sudden change. He’d only been playing along…hadn’t he? “I was hiding from someone. I thought you realized.”
She checked over her shoulder, belatedly. There was no sign of her tormentor, thank the gods.
A quick glance back at Castor revealed an angry scowl on his face. “Let’s go,” he said. Or ordered.
He took her by the elbow, but a flash of pink on the floor caught her eye. When had he untied her belt? She snatched it up and cast Castor a glower of her own, daring him to say a word. Head held high, she led the way.
As soon as they were in the suite, she beelined straight for the bathroom. A long soak in water was what she needed right now.
“Hey.”
She paused in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder at him in the main room, his eyebrows raised in question. Bluffing her way through this was her best bet.
He crossed his arms, and she did her best to ignore how the muscles strained the fine material of his shirt or the strength of his forearms exposed by his rolled-back sleeves.
“You’re going to explain what happened down there.”
Damn. She’d hoped he’d let it go. Time to play dumb. “Um. I saw a person I’d rather avoid. You helped me avoid him.”
She turned away.
“Hold on, you.”
She gave a little sigh before she turned back around, then yelped because he’d managed to cross the room to stand directly behind her without a sound.
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“You’re telling me that kiss was all an act?”
That panty-melting, set-me-on-fire, take-me-now kiss? Men could be so dense. “Of course.” She grimaced. “I shouldn’t have kissed you at all, but he showed up and I just kind of…panicked.”
He put his hands on the doorframe on either side of her, leaning close, his fresh-air scent swirling around her, casting her more under his thrall, and she found she couldn’t pull her gaze away. So, Leia did the next best thing. She hardened her heart and held her ground, angling her head to look him in the eyes.
“So if I were to kiss you right now”—his gaze dropped to her lips, making her tingle as though he’d already put words into action—“you’d feel nothing?”
>
Ah. That’s his problem. She’d pricked his pride. Shoving aside her unreasonable disappointment, she tried to forget the utterly perfect feel of his lips against hers. “Of course I’d feel something. I’m a nymph and you’re a demigod.” And a hell of a kisser. And she had this uncontrollable thing for him. “But it wouldn’t mean anything. You’re my boss, not my lover.”
He gave her a long, hard look, and a sound of splintering wood told her he’d gripped the doorframe a tad too hard, though she didn’t check to confirm. Her stomach tightened when his gaze dropped to her lips again and he seemed to lean closer.
Leia held very still. Waiting. Wishing…
But then he stepped back. “You’re right.”
Disappointment mingled with relief as her pent-up breath punched from her. “It won’t happen again.”
That statement didn’t make her feel any better. Regret dragged her heart down to the pit of her stomach.
“Who were you trying to avoid?”
She tipped her chin. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Too bad.”
She knew the stubborn light in his eyes, his jaw clenched with determination. He’d get it out of her by hook or by crook. “The werewolf responsible for losing me my spring.”
His eyes narrowed. “You told me Poseidon was responsible.”
“Yes, but it started with Kaios. He wanted me. I rejected him.” She left out the details on purpose. “To get even, he made a bet with Poseidon that the god would also fail with me. If he lost, Kaios was supposed to bring the god something. I never did find out what. If Kaios won, Poseidon would punish me much more than Kaios ever could.”
She gazed out the window at the lights of the shopping center below the hotel and the cars driving to and from the downtown area. “He must be here for the mating. Having an ancient like Kaios here to bless the mating with their presence is desired by the wolves. Except…I wasn’t aware he was still alive.”
They tended to die faster than other immortals given their proclivity toward fighting each other and the world, and she’d avoided everything werewolf since the day her spring had been destroyed. Until now.
Kaios was a self-centered megalomaniac, though. No way was the guy here to bless a mating. It couldn’t be coincidence. But he couldn’t be here for her, right? Yes, she’d rejected him. Granted, the way she’d gone about it—close to drowning him with the water from a river in a show of how her power could trump his, to get him to back off, and doing so in front of the most powerful of his people—had been beyond stupid. But he couldn’t still hold a grudge. Could he?
Castor was silent for so long, she glanced back up. Her eyes widened at the expression on his face, a mixture of guilt and tender protectiveness. But that couldn’t be right.
Before she could say anything, he took her face in his hands. “Don’t go.”
She blinked as her heart pulsed. “What?”
“Don’t go to the mating ceremony. Go home. I’ll deal with things here.”
She bit her lip. “What about Marrok and Tala?”
“When I explain things to them, they’ll understand that you couldn’t stay,” he said softly.
The thing was, no way could she back down now. She may have hidden in the foyer, but something inside her cried out in protest.
She hadn’t resigned for a reason. Because she’d be leaving the only happiness she’d found in a long, long time—Castor and her job. Just to escape the worry that she’d be found.
No.
A big, fucking no.
She’d let Kaios do too much to control her life, even when she’d thought him dead and gone. No more. Leaving, running and hiding, meant Kaios would win. Again.
She swallowed. “No. A werewolf at their mating is a big deal to them. Don’t say anything to them.”
“Then I’ll tell them you’re sick or something. I’m not going to put you through facing your own personal demon. Not for me.” His eyes darkened, turning the color of a storm. Any second now, lightning would flash.
This was why she was unable to resist him. Castor Dioskouri was an intrinsically good man who put others before his own needs, despite being a demigod.
She covered his hands with her own, leaning into the heat of him. “I want to stay. I’m going to help them, and Kaios can be damned to the lowest pits of Hades.”
With a groan Castor released her face only to pull her into this body and wrap his arms around her. He settled his chin on the top of her head. Leia closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of being surrounded by him, giving in to her own weakness. Just for a second. “You have a good heart, Lyleia Naiad. Why help people you’ve only just met?”
Because they were Castor’s friends, only she couldn’t tell him that. “Because you think they are good, and their goal of bringing peace to their packs is a worthy one. And I’m sick to death of running.”
He grunted. “What’s your plan?”
She scrunched up her face. “If I told you, you wouldn’t let me do it.”
He moved his hands to her shoulders to lean back and look her in the eyes, frowning. “Which means it’s dangerous.”
“Not necessarily dangerous. More like…”
“Stupid?”
Usually a term like that would earn him a verbal smack down, but he was worried about her, so she let it pass. “I’ve been called worse. I’ll be fine.”
“I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”
“No. It’s been so long since I’ve had a chance to use my powers at all, let alone for a good cause. I’m not asking you, Castor. I’m telling you. I want to do this.”
To feel some worth. To access the elements again. Maybe show her sisters that by abandoning her they were complicit in her fate. And show a certain werewolf that she was done.
“Do you need to be at the mating ceremony for it to work?” She could see his mind ticking over, trying to make a solution that fit his determination to protect her.
“It’s better if I am. I need to be close by.”
“Which means you’ll have to come face to face with Kaios.” His lips flattened in a grim line her fingers itched to smooth over.
She held onto his hands tighter. “I’ll handle him.” With Castor there, she knew she could.
Castor’s eyebrow hitched. “That kiss downstairs—so out of character for you in too many ways to count—tells me you’re terrified of him.”
She shifted on her feet but couldn’t look away because of how he held her. “I just didn’t expect to see him. Now that I know, I’ll be ready. I’ll be fine.”
He scowled. “There’s that word again. Fine isn’t good enough.”
Castor released her, stalked to the wet bar, and got out strong whiskey. If she didn’t know him better, she would say he was furious. No. That idea was ridiculous. Castor in a rage brought lightning, and none was coming. Not even static electricity.
“Are you afraid of him?” He poured a couple of fingers in two glasses, picked them up, and crossed the room to her.
She took the glass he offered, took a sip, and made a face as the sharp taste of alcohol hit her tongue. “There’s nothing Kaios can take away from me now. And with my own personal superhero around as a bodyguard, he can’t hurt me.” She tipped back the rest, coughing at the sensation of the fumes burning the hairs out of her nose.
“I’m hardly a superhero.” He muttered the words before he tossed back his own.
She wondered if he was thinking of his wife’s demise. Leia had never learned the details beyond that he’d had a wife who was gone. But, as a demigod, did he blame himself? Or had she been human, and he’d had to watch her go?
Either situation was heartbreaking. Still, he was Leia’s hero. If his heart for the people he helped hadn’t won her over, the way he tried to protect her now would’ve sealed the deal. Not that she’
d ever tell him. Even if he had kissed her back, he wouldn’t want it. She was his assistant only.
Instead she waved a hand. “I can handle a werewolf.” Maybe. “Besides, demigod trumps werewolf every time.”
He choked out a rare, rusty-sounding laugh. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
She dredged up a smile and handed him her glass. “I think I’ll take a nice long bath if you don’t mind.”
As she turned away, he called her name. She looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised in question. “I won’t let him hurt you tomorrow, Lyleia.”
The unmistakable sincerity in his voice was almost her undoing. “Thanks,” she managed around the lump taking up permanent residence in her throat. She made her escape to the bathroom with more haste than grace. Whiskey was her kryptonite, and as the kiss Castor laid on her downstairs combined with the affection in his gaze just now, she was fighting the urge to wrap her body around his. If she could get through the next few days without making a total idiot of herself—or dying—maybe she’d rethink the direction her life should take after this.
Whatever that was.
Chapter Eight
Castor waved away the waiter who’d wheeled in a cart of food with a gruff “thanks” and fiddled with the placement of what he’d ordered, setting the items up on the coffee table before moving the cart out of the way.
Stupid to feel edgy. He was the son of Zeus, a successful and very rich man with a mostly fulfilling life. And he was about to make a romantic gesture.
Nerves strung tight through him, making him as edgy as a nymph at one of Dionysus’s orgies.
Leia had been in that bath for ages. Damn tempting to join her but making a move on her tonight would be the worst possible timing. Yes that kiss had given him hope—until she’d stated it was a ruse at least—but with everything she was dealing with, all because of him, only an asshole would try something.
This was about Leia.
She’d looked so fragile, her pale skin practically translucent, only emphasizing dark circles under her eyes, as she’d gone into the bathroom. Trying so hard to be brave, but werewolves were fucking unpredictable and dangerous because of it, and this one clearly had it in for her.