Apollo (Contemporary Mythos Book 2)

Time didn’t stall because I had a decision to make. Days went by after our steamy bath conversation. It was days filled with rehearsing and nights spent with Apollo. He didn’t bring up the subject once, nor did he drop subtle hints. How the two of us had changed since the first day we met—both misinterpreting the other, refusing to see past the surface. I’d grown in the past weeks, and something told me so had Apollo.

As familiar as we tried to keep the past days, well as normal as it could be with him being a god, the decision rolled in my brain—the pros, the cons, what I’d be giving up—gaining. And through it all, was this meant for me? Fate. Destiny. I’d never given it much thought, but if Greek gods were real, why wouldn’t fate be?

We laid naked in Apollo’s bed. I curled my fingers through his golden hair, staring at Raven propped in a corner. He rubbed my shoulder and kissed the top of my head.

“Do you know how to play?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling through my skull.

I tilted my chin. “Hm?”

He pointed with the hand resting on my shoulder. “Raven. You’ve been staring at her.”

“I used to play. It’s been forever. I’m pretty sure I only remember one single riff.” I laughed and then frowned as he slid from underneath me.

“One riff is a riff.” He crossed the room in golden tanned naked glory, scooping the guitar into his grasp. He beamed at me as he returned, laying it across my lap.

I bit down on my lip as I sat up. Tracing my fingers down the steel strings, I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of skin brushing against the grooves.

“You’re gorgeous.” Apollo traced a fingertip down my arm. A featherlike touch that made the little hairs stand on end.

I opened my eyes. He sat on the bed with one leg dangling off the side, studying me.

“No need to butter me up, sun god.” I scratched the strings with my nails.

“I know. I want to.” He pointed at the guitar. “Play, Sparky.”

I plucked the top string with my thumb, followed by strings four, five and six in succession. Then came back up with strings six, five, and four. Repeating this order, I played the opening melody to Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.

“I never said it was a difficult one.” I stuck my tongue at him out of the corner of my mouth.

He shook his head, his gaze traveling from my fingers, caressing his guitar, to my serene face. “Some of the most moving music is the simplest in the world. And just when I thought I couldn’t be any more attracted to you.”

I slapped my hands on the strings, muting the sound. “I want to dance for you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” His bedroom eyes played over his gaze.

I rested the guitar on the bed and slid my feet to the floor. “But you can’t touch me.”

“I can try to resist the temptation.” He grabbed Raven and slid until his back pressed against the headboard. “Is there a particular reason for this?”

I brushed my hair over my shoulder, my naked flesh prickling from the chill in the air. “I want to know with absolute certainty I can dance carefree without your influence.”

He half-smiled. “Fair enough. You’re so cold, though.” He pointed at the goosebumps scattered over my arms.

“I’ll live.” I dragged my middle finger across my collarbone. “Would you mind playing something for me?”

He tossed his hair from his eyes, resting his large masculine hands on the guitar. The song sounded Byzantine with twangy chords and flutters. My hips swayed, and I closed my eyes, giving into it. Pushing every rule from ballet implanted in my limbs through the years, I let the music take me captive.

I bent backward, rotating my hands in a circular motion. When I couldn’t go any further, I snapped upright. As I trailed one hand between my breasts and over my shoulder, I snaked the other one down my abdomen. I swung my leg around in a half-barrel roll, extending one hand toward the ground, kicking my leg up behind me in an arabesque.

The twang of Apollo’s guitar intensified, and I swiveled my hips, curving my hands toward them on either side to accentuate the movement. Apollo stared back at me with raging inferno lit in his gaze when I opened my eyes. The muscle in his arms tensed and flexed as he played. I’d gotten enough proof. It was my dancing—all mine. But Apollo freed me just as the Prince freed Sleeping Beauty from her spell.

I lifted my leg to the edge of the bed, pointing my toes and dragging my foot down the length of it. Apollo’s chest pumped, the music coming to a halt as his grip tightened on the guitar’s neck. I quirked an eyebrow, taking Raven from his arms and placing it on the ground. Kneeling on the bed, I moved toward him, still swirling my hands around as if the melody never stopped.

His gaze burned me—seared me to the core. He kept his hands splayed at his sides, still making no move to touch me. I dropped to my hands and knees, crawling the rest of the way to greet him.

“You gave me freedom, Apollo. What would you like in return?” I whispered, brushing my lips over his.

He moaned, snaking his arm around my back, yanking me to him. “All of you. Every. Square. Inch.”

We poured into a ravenous kiss, licking, nipping, groping one another. I knew my answer—knew being a goddess of Apollo would give me the ultimate form of freedom. An itch I’d never been able to scratch since I was born. I just needed more time. Only a little. If even to talk to Kate—somehow. Some way.

Jamie’s sickness got worse with each passing day. Still, she showed up and danced as much as her stomach could handle. I had to hand it to her. She was persistent. Or as stubborn as a mule. The jury was still out on that one.

It was our last rehearsal before the big performance—dress rehearsal on the stage itself. I stood in the wings, stretching, the corps’ simple black skirt flowing down my legs. Ace stepped behind me, his thumbs kneading into the base of my neck. I closed my eyes with a moan.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” His voice feathered against my nape.

I shook my head. “I could do this dance blindfolded to no music at this point.”

“Good to hear.”

“Miss Berg, may I speak to you for a moment?” Roy beckoned me with his finger from the opposite side of the stage.

I squeezed Ace’s hand before making my way over.

“How do you feel about doing the principal role in the show tomorrow?”

Did I hear the words “you,” meaning me, and “principal” in the same sentence?

“What about Jamie?”

He shook his head as he slipped his glasses off. “She’s in no shape to exert herself. She’s bound to pass out on stage before the end of it.”

Ace’s eyes narrowed mischievously from the wings, watching our conversation. I clucked my tongue against the inside of my cheek.

“Of course, I will, but what if she feels better tomorrow?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. But be ready in case she isn’t.” He patted my shoulder and walked away.

As I made my way back to Ace, I squinted at him, tapping my fingers against my arm.

“Good news?” He asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Conveniently, yes.”

“Oh?” He slipped his thumbs through his belt loops.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” I motioned with my finger for him to follow.

When we were out of earshot and in a safe corner, I wrapped my hand around his forearm. “Tell me the truth, Apollo. Did you make Jamie sick?”

He started to laugh, but when he realized I wasn’t joining in, his lips thinned. “And if I did?”

“Apollo.” I grabbed my head and paced in a square pattern. “You can’t do that.”

“I can. I’ve plagued entire armies with sickness. All she has is a mild case of the flu.”

“I know you can. I meant you can’t just meddle with people. Do you realize it makes you no better than your dad?” It pained me to say, but it was true. Zeus was infamous for screwing with mortals.

He glared. “He does it for his own selfish reasons. I did this for you.”

My eyes widened. “For me?”

“You’ve always wanted to be a principal. You deserve to be principal. I gave you the opportunity.” His eyes roamed my face.

His heart was in the right place. It was. But it only further reminded me of what he was—the extent of his capabilities. “I appreciate the thought, but you need to reverse it. You can, right?”

“Yes.” His forlorn expression looked like a chastised puppy.

I took his hands in mine. “Then, please make her better. You’re right. I do want to be principal. But not like this. It wouldn’t be fate intervening or me earning it. It’d be bought.”

The sadness in his eyes faded into a sparkle. He slipped his hands away, moving them to each side of my face. He kissed me. He’d already uncaged me, and yet his kiss sought to do more than free me. The power behind it was like searching for a sign of true love’s kiss.

His mouth slipped away, and I licked the taste of nectar from my lips. “Not that I’m complaining in the slightest, but what was that for?”

“No matter what your decision,” he started, his thumbs brushing over each of my cheekbones. “Just know you’re already a goddess. Never forget it, Sparky.”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t blink. For a moment, I even forgot how to breathe.

His lips brushed the corner of my brow. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait.” I stopped him with my hand. “Where are you going?”

“To give Jamie some mythological chicken soup.” He squeezed my hand once and walked away.

All the doubt and worry I’d felt the past few days, agonizing over my decision, became crystal clear with one profound statement from the god of the sun. What would it feel like to be a goddess? Would I feel any different? Would my powers look the same as his, but pink glitter and hearts?

Kate rounded the corner, snapping me from my daydream. Kate. I needed to talk to Kate first. What would I say? How would I say it?

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” She had her hands on her hips.

“Kate, if you could ever be immortal. Would you?”

Not the smoothest, but it’d do.

“Well, that’s a random question if I ever heard one.”

“I’m serious—hypothetical situation. Eric Northman is the love of your life. Forget Sookie. To be with him, you would need to become immortal. Would you?”

“In an absolute heartbeat. Are you kidding me? We talked about this after the series finale and how stupid she was. He would’ve moved planets for her.”

It was hard to forget our hour-long bitch-fest after the series finale. About what should’ve happened and didn’t. Now that I was in a similar real-life situation, I saw parts of Sookie’s side. It irritated me.

“We never thought about how it would feel for Sookie to watch all her friends and family die. Or how it’d personally change her life. She’d have all these crazy new and awesome abilities but also responsibilities. Like, not killing humans but still surviving on blood. Or upholding vampire reputation.”

Kate’s eyes formed slits. “You’re taking this all very seriously all of a sudden. Especially since the show’s been over since 2014.”

“Humor me. Please.”

“Fine. Yes, it would suck for her to have to watch her friends and family die around her. But she’d mourn the same way whether she lived forever or not. And the hurt would pass. I think everyone would’ve wanted to see her happy. If that meant becoming a vampire to be with Eric, then why would they have questioned her?” She shrugged.

“So, you’re saying if Sookie were your best friend, she would’ve had your blessing?”

“Absolutely. Yes. Now can you tell me what this is all about?”

“One day. But not today.” I hooked my arm through hers, and we walked to the stage. “Is Teeg coming to the performance tomorrow?”

She rolled her eyes at me, undoubtedly knowing I attempted to derail the conversation. “He is.”

“Good. Hopefully, he doesn’t give Ace too much shit for being in a ballet.”

She giggled. “I think he’s done enough of that behind closed doors. Besides, Ace doesn’t look like he’s dancing ballet.”

“What does it look like he’s doing?”

She blinked once. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to say.”

I nudged her in the shoulder.

“Jamie,” another dancer yelled.

Jamie walked out from the wings. The color had returned to her face, and her grin was so wide it made her cheeks crack. The other dancer hugged her.

“Wow. Looks like she escaped the clutches of death,” Kate stammered.

Ace appeared from the shadows; his chin tilted down. He lifted his blue gaze and smiled at me.

I mouthed the words “thank you.”

He pressed his hands together in a prayer gesture and bowed.

I sat in my dressing room, applying the second layer of makeup needed for the performance. Hairspray vapors filled the air from other dancers giving one last spray before frolicking out the door. My palms were clammy—nerves on overdrive. Not over the performance, but announcing my decision to Apollo. I wasn’t second-guessing myself, but as soon as the words left my mouth, there’d be no turning back.

There was a light knock on the door. I knew it was him on the other side from the smell of pine needles seeping through the crack.

“Are you decent?” He opened the door without letting me answer.

I turned in my seat, dangling my arm over the back. “Unfortunately for you.”

“You look…” He squinted. “Refreshed.”

“Refreshed? Are you losing your touch, Ace? Usually, girls like to hear beautiful or gorgeous.”

“You know you are. I meant you look relieved—unburdened.”

I turned back to the mirror, powdering my face to seal in the rest of the makeup. “I’ve had quite a bit on my mind these past few days.”

He moved behind me, gripping the back of the chair. “About you know what?”

I caught his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

He kissed my cheek, keeping our gazes locked. “I told you there’s no rush.”

“I know. But if I let it stew too long, it’s going to make my head explode.”

We both fell silent. I wanted nothing more than to scream to the hills; I’d decided to become a goddess. His goddess. But didn’t want to risk someone walking in on our conversation. Not to mention how ruined the moment would be with such an unintended interruption. The countdown on the wall blazed with red numbers—five minutes to curtain call.

“We better head out there.” I stood and adjusted my costume.

He playfully pinched my butt. “Merde.”

“Merde to you right back, Rockstar.” I tugged his sun pendant.

We moved to the wings, positioning ourselves for the entrance. Ace would be so close, yet so far away for the entire performance. My stomach fluttered, knowing he’d catch my gaze as much as possible.

When we entered the stage, all pointe shoes made tapping sounds against the wooden floor. The stage lights gleamed down on me, blinding any crowds past the first several rows. It was that initial glimpse of the lights which always set my body into performance mode. The first strum from Ace’s guitar sounded as he walked to the front of the stage. The crowd went wild from his presence. Roy knew what he was doing, luring in a new group with the promise of an exclusive view of Ace—a crowd that may have never seen a ballet.

The bass drum in the orchestra pit thudded in my chest on the first pound. Ace raised the neck of his guitar vertically and feverishly worked his fingers over the strings. I and the rest of the corps struck our first pose. As the music flowed, we slid into the routine with Ace working his way in between us. He passed behind me, his back inches from mine. I did the twirl intended for the combination but let my head fall back onto his shoulder. It didn’t interfere with the movements, but I knew I’d never hear it down from Roy. I didn’t care.

Ace mouthed the word “naughty,” and I brightened my smile, turning my attention to the audience.

The rest of the performance went on without a hitch. I’d only felt the tingle from Ace’s influence once, the one jolt I needed due to the restrictions of ballet. He wanted to further prove it to me. That I had everything I needed inside and needed little help from him to bring it to the surface.

When he cradled Jamie in his arms for their duet, I didn’t feel one ounce of jealousy. Back when I denied my feelings, I may have been tempted to storm off the stage—not now. Soon I’d be able to dance with him any time I desired for the rest of eternity. In a twisted way, I was glad Jamie got the opportunity to dance with him. Regardless of our animosity toward each other, she was a talented ballerina.

We all lined up for the final sequence, requiring us all to make precise movements in sync, or it’d throw off the entire groove. I closed my eyes, letting the music dissolve into my skin. The notes crept over my arms, caressed my neck, and pooled over my cheeks. It was the best performance of my life. I could care less if the audience probably couldn’t see it from my upstage position. The way I felt during it would be implanted in my brain forever. I knew it—the only person who mattered.

The last note of the song echoed off the walls of the theater. The curtain fell, and the crowd roared behind it. We all stood breathless before exploding in a fit of hugs and tears. There were only seconds before the curtain would lift, but we always pushed our limit. Ace and Jamie stood front and center when the red velvet revealed us to the audience again. They bowed, and dozens of roses flew onto the stage. One of them was from Teeg, grinning like an idiot at Kate from the front row.

Ace turned around and walked through the rows of women until he stood in front of me. Without a passing thought, he grabbed my hand and tugged me downstage. Considering I was in the corps, my bows should’ve taken place with the corps, but he had other plans. He lifted our arms, and he bowed while I curtsied. My cheeks flushed, thankful for the layers of makeup masking it.

He dropped his head near my ear. “You may not have let me help you be principal, but you sure as Tartarus are going to get the recognition you deserve. You. Were. Amazing.”

I gazed up at him, knowing I’d made the right choice. We backed up, allowing each row from the corps to take their bows as we exited to the wings. I went up on pointe to make it easier for me to wrap my arms around his neck. Dragging my lips over his smooth cheek, I pressed them against his earlobe.

“Come over tonight?”

“Just say when Laurel.”

It was time to face the music and what a crescendo it would have.