Apollo (Contemporary Mythos Book 2)

Kate glanced at the time on her cell phone and rested it on the table. “Okay, we have thirty minutes before Teeg picks me up. I’m all ears.” She held her coffee cup with both hands and sipped on it, peering at me over the rim.

I nibbled on the green straw in my iced latte. “He’s picking you up in public? That’s adorable.”

“Talk, missy. You’re not getting out of this one.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say or what you want to hear.” I jiggled my cup, making the ice clank.

“Whatever you’re willing to tell me. Where did it happen? On a scale of one to ten, how was his stamina? What’d it look like?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “The studio. An eleven, and I’m not going into detail about it. Just know it was of ‘godly’ proportions.”

She blinked. “The studio? Where?”

“The barre and the uh, floor.” I left out the small detail regarding the cloud.

“The barre? How is that even possible?” She leaned in as far as the table would allow.

I clutched my cup, crimping it on one side. “He has amazing upper body strength.”

“Well, then.” She sat back, arching an eyebrow. “Not sure I’ll be able to look at the barre in the same way ever again. And did you say an eleven?”

“Shut up.” I laughed and threw my straw wrapper at her. “Things are going well with Teeg, I presume?”

“I feel like I’m living in a fairy tale, Laur. He’s a rock star, sure, but along with the glitz and glam, he’s so down to Earth.”

A fairy tale, huh? Little did she know, I was living a fairy tale of the Greek mythology variety.

“Glad to hear he’s not what you originally perceived a rock star to be.”

“You mean the ‘trash a hotel room, do lines of cocaine off a stripper’s butt’ type of rock star?”

“That’d be the one.”

She picked at the order label on her cup. “Thankfully, no. He’s not the type.”

The sun started to set outside, turning the sky into vibrant red, orange, and yellow shades. Did Apollo control the colors?

“There he is.” Kate’s eyes beamed in a way I’d only seen her do while watching Thor: Ragnarok.

Teeg walked in with sunglasses and a beanie, disguising himself without sacrificing his “look.” Kate jumped up, gave me a quick peck on the forehead, and ran over to him. Teeg gave me a wave before they walked out to the street.

Did I look like that every time Ace walked into the room? I hoped not. Not that I didn’t feel the way Kate acted, but I’d like to think I did a better job masking it.

I sighed and slurped up the rest of my coffee before tossing it in the garbage. What, oh, what was I to do with myself for the rest of the evening? With Kate preoccupied during our typical weekly girl time day we’d established years ago, I’d have to bide my own time. Ace was off playing rock star—normalcy I’d need to get used to if I wished to pursue things further with him. Not to mention everything else that came in a package deal with a Greek god.

Shoving my hands in my front jean pockets, I slipped onto the street, peering up at sunset streaking the sky like a watercolor painting. I stood still, noting the lack of pink and purple hues, missing the romantic touch the colors added. Like a paintbrush on a canvas, pink strokes suddenly stretched across the sky, followed by purple dabbles.

“I suppose I should’ve asked you what your favorite colors were by now, hm?” Ace’s smooth voice lapped over my skin like liquified satin.

He leaned against a light post with one hand in his pocket. His long hair was behind his ears, booted feet crossed at the ankles, and the sun reflected in his eyes, intensifying the cerulean color.

My heart raced. “Do you decide on the colors?” I pointed at the sky.

“Amongst other things.” His arms slipped around me from behind, his chest pressing against the back of my head. “I can also control the shape and number of clouds. I particularly like to turn rainy grey clouds into white. Drives my dad nuts.”

I nestled into him, not daring to take my eyes off the sunlight show in the sky. “Because of his soft spot for lightning?”

“Listen to you knowing a bit about Greek myths.” He smiled against my ear.

“You’d have to be living under a rock to have not heard of Zeus.”

“You’re telling me. The man would plaster his face on every billboard on the planet if he could get away with it.”

The sun dipped past the horizon as the moon and stars made their debut.

“Can we go for a walk? In the park, maybe?” I turned to face him.

“I don’t know, some of those squirrels are my biggest fans. It could turn into a mob.”

I playfully batted him in the shoulder.

He held his palms up as if to protect himself. “I’m kidding. Partially. I wouldn’t put it past Artemis in the slightest to play a joke like that.”

“Artemis? Does she control animals?”

“Not only controls them, but she can be one. Turn others too if she so desires.”

The thought made me queasy. Any time a bird was on my window sill, or a fly tormented my kitchen—it all could’ve been Artemis.

“Tell me more about yourself. You’ve lived for centuries. You must have hundreds of stories.” I grabbed his hands and walked backward.

He gave my palm a quick squeeze. “Most of those stories have been written down by this guy named Homer?”

“Accounts. I want to hear it from the true source. You said yourself there’s no way mortals could get everything right. We weren’t there. This dragon you claimed to slay, for example. Let’s hear it.” I tugged him over to a wooden bench nestled in the trees off the sidewalk path.

He sat down, resting his forearms on his knees. He stared at the ground and twirled his rings with cinched brows. Was he piecing it together—recalling it from some deeply buried memory bank to relay it to me?

“Delphi at the time was thought to be the center of the Earth. Being the overzealous warrior I was, I wanted a temple there. The most revered temple the world would ever see. The only problem was a dragon known as Python lived there.” He held out his hand, and with the orange glow of his powers, an image of a serpent-like dragon formed in his palm.

“That was the real reason I killed it. Other variations tried to make it more dramatic. Such as me going after it in honor of my mother, Leto. As I told you before, Hera was jealous when news rang out of my mother being pregnant with Artemis and me. She had good reason, but some stories say she sent Python to kill my mother, with us still in her womb.”

“Not true?” I sat on my hands to warm them.

“No. Hera was smarter. She’d have known the backlash for that kind of outburst wouldn’t have been worth the strife.”

“How did you kill it?”

He swirled his hand, and an image of him suspended in the air, with his bow drawn back, appeared above the dragon. “Bow and arrow naturally. One precise shot was all it took, and it was mine. I’d been so determined to claim Delphi it hadn’t occurred to me that I laid foot on sacred ground.”

“Sacred?”

He kept one hand out, conjuring orange-hued images as he continued his story. The other coaxed my hand from underneath my legs, warming me.

“It was home to the Oracle of Delphi. We gods place oracles on a high pedestal. It hadn’t crossed my mind. In the end, they built the temple. I’d gotten what I wanted, but—” An image of the vast temple floated from his palm.

I wiggled my fingers through the image, sparkles coating my skin.

“Zeus punished me for my sacrilege by making me oversee the Pythian Games for the rest of eternity. Fortunately, the Olympic Games were the ones to survive time, and it’s no longer a burden on my shoulders.” He closed his hand, making the orange imagery disappear.

“How is overseeing athletic games a punishment?”

He pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Zeus loves to humiliate people. It was a smite against my ego, making me oversee games named after the dragon I killed. With the games named after it, it immortalized the dragon.”

“Does your entire family live to torture each other?” I rested my chin on his shoulder, looking up at him.

He roared with laughter. “I’ve never heard anyone put it quite like that, but I guess we do.”

Silence fell over us as we looked at each other—sadness threatened to ruin our moment. Sadness over if what was happening between us could continue. Was I wasting my time building all these feelings only to find out, in the end, I’d have to give it all up? Give him up?

He traced a finger over my eyebrow, a unique quirk of his I’d grown to adore. “Dance with me.”

I looked around at the abandoned park, the white illumination from the moon glowing through the tree branches creating shadowed shapes on the grass. “Here? Now? There’s no music.”

“You got me.” He pulled me to my feet.

Interlacing our hands, he wrapped his other arm around my waist, pulling me close. My back stiffened, and I lifted my chin, the way my body grew accustomed to from ballet.

“So stiff, Sparky,” he whispered against my cheek. “Always so stiff.” He ran his hand down my back, coaxing me to relax.

“It doesn’t come as naturally for me as it does you.”

“You’re wrong.”

I glowered up at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wrong. Ballet is a beautiful art, but the restriction of stiff movement isn’t naturally human. Letting your body move the way you feel, that’s the most natural thing in the world.”

I stared into the distance. “I’ve only ever felt free those few moments with you. Because you used your powers on me.”

“Wait, did you think—” He cupped my chin. “You thought you danced that way because of me?”

“If it wasn’t you, then what was it? You run your hand down my spine, and I feel all gooey.”

“Laurel.” He took my hands and waltzed us through the moonlit grass. “I relax you, so you feel free, but the rest is entirely up to you. The way you danced was all you.”

His words dove deep. All this time, I thought he was my puppetmaster. A blank canvas for him to pour paint on as he saw fit. It was me the entire time? A surge coursed through my veins, and I spun myself out and away from him. I dipped my head back, swirling my arm behind me before pulsing my chest twice at the starry sky.

Ace stood back, allowing me to explore myself, but standing ready when I wanted to include him. I pulled myself against him, running the inside of my knee up the length of his leg until I reached his hip. He hooked a hand underneath my thigh and slowly dipped me. His hand traced over my face, sprinkling me with orange shimmers.

Leaves rustled from a nearby bush, snapping my attention away. A fawn took cautious steps toward us, jaw rotating as it munched on grass. I tensed, not wanting to make a sudden move that’d frighten the deer away.

Ace narrowed his eyes. “Low, Artie. Very low, even for you.”

Artemis?

The deer morphed into the red-headed goddess. She stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. “At least you recognized me right away. Remember when I was a bear and followed you around for a whole week before you realized it was me?”

“I try to forget,” Ace mumbled under his breath.

“You two enjoying a moonlit dance on a chilly evening in the middle of the woods, or is this a normal thing?” She pointed between the two of us.

Remembering her words about Apollo doomed to hurt me twisted a knife in my gut.

“What do you want, Artie?” Ace’s jawline hardened.

“I need to talk to you. In private.”

Ace pushed his sleeves up. “Whatever you need to say, you can say in front of her.”

Artemis’ eyebrows shot up. Her lips parted before curling into a grin. “You do have a thing for her. Oh, big brother, this is new.”

“A matter you could’ve discussed with me before lying to her about my intentions.” He yanked his sleeves back down.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me.

“In my defense, you’ve never. Ever. Pursued a woman for more than what was between her legs. Deny it.” Artemis raised her voice, fixing her steely gaze on him.

His bicep twitched. “You know I can’t.”

“Then what’s different about this one, hm?”

“That’s just it. Laurel is different.”

Artemis appeared behind me, and I yelped.

She ran her fingers through my hair and canted her head back and forth, studying me. “Pretty. Young-ish. Gorgeous body. Aside from her being a blonde, she doesn’t seem your type. I don’t get it.”

Puffing my chest, I turned to face her. “Would you stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Add feisty to the list. Is that it? Her fire?” She still didn’t look at me but pointed at me nonetheless.

Ace tapped his fingers against his cheek. “For hundreds of thousands of years, I’ve spent my life inspiring others. For the first time, Artemis—” he stepped between Artemis and me, looming over her. “Someone has inspired me.”

My heart soared. I leaned to the side to catch what was sure to be Artemis’ stunned face.

Her mouth formed a tiny “o.” “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

Her surprise transformed into a frown, and she placed a hand on his cheek. “Then I feel sorry for you, dear brother. You know why this can’t be.”

My gut feeling told me she spoke of my worst fear.

He peeled her hand away. “A conversation for Laurel and me. Without prying ears.”

“Fair enough. But a conversation which should happen sooner rather than later.” She looked at me with a creased brow. “For what it’s worth, Laurel, I’m sorry.”

Without explanation, she disappeared in a flash of white and swirling leaves. Was she sorry she lied to me about Ace? Or because it hadn’t been enough to keep us apart?

“What was she talking about, Apollo?” I didn’t want to use his fake name, not after what I’d heard.

“A conversation I’m not ready to have. Not yet.” His nose twitched in a snarl before he reached for my hand.

“But—”

“Another time, Laurel. Please.” His blue eyes were unflinching, and he rubbed the sun pendant between two fingers. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Alright.”

I expected him to pop us to the desired location, but instead, he led me down the sidewalk. Neither of us spoke. My mind kept playing what Artemis said over and over in my head. Every time she and I talked, it was as if she left her words like a brand. It didn’t take a mind reader to know the same thoughts were on his mind too.

We neared a building I knew well—The Performing Arts Center. Muffled music and singing leaked from the center’s walls, but not enough to determine which performance it was.

“What are we doing?” Energy rushed over me at the sight of the building.

“Have you ever seen an opera here?”

“No. Why?”

He jutted his head for me to follow. We didn’t go in the front door, but rather a stage door from the back entrance.

Was he sneaking us in, or did he have some pass that never expired given his rock star status? No one batted an eyelash at us as he led me through hallway after hallway—it was like we were invisible. We ascended several flights of stairs before he guided me through a door labeled Balcony A. When we stepped through, the sounds of dozens of instruments in a symphony orchestra slapped me in the face.

Gold and white walls covered with ornate designs and carved foliage shapes filled the space. A stage at the front with several actors and singers paused for the musical interlude. It was a Paris café setting, and the music sounded so familiar. I felt for the armrest of a chair and sunk, unable to tear my eyes away. Ace sat down beside me, and I could feel the heat from his stare, watching my reactions.

A woman stepped up to the front of the stage, and as soon as she started singing, I recognized the opera immediately—La Boheme. The rich soprano of her voice cut straight to my heart. A tingle, not from Ace’s touch this time, but a tingle from the music simmering through my skin, traveled down my arms. It kept bottling up and bottling up until my heart could no longer contain it. It needed somewhere to go, a place to escape the confines of my chest. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I curled my hands under my chin, transitioning into all-out sobbing. When the song came to a close, Ace gently touched a hand to my back.

“If the Northern Lights could sing, I imagine she is what they’d sound like,” I whispered.

His fingertip grazed under my chin, and he turned my face to him. “I’ve never seen music move a human, the way that it does you. It pulls you in, holds you hostage, and you’re its willing prisoner.”

“And always will be.” With tingly fingers, I unwound my hands from each other. “I must look like that guy from A Clockwork Orange right about now.” Wiping the back of my hand over one cheek, I avoided eye contact with him.

“Tears from passion over tears from sadness could never make you look anything less than beautiful, Sparky.”

His face looked so serene before it dipped into coldness. Distant.

“We need to have that talk, don’t we?” An emptiness formed in the pit of my stomach.

“Tomorrow. I have a concert. You have rehearsal. We’ll meet up afterward. Is that alright with you?”

“No.” I played with one of his rings, focusing on its smooth texture. “But it’s going to have to be.”

He pressed his mouth against his knuckles with a sigh.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.

“Because before we have this conversation, I wanted to remind both of us of what we share.” Our gazes locked, and I slipped my arms around him, shoving my face into his shoulder.

Tears blurred my vision, but this time they weren’t tears of passion.