Wave of Memories: The Sons of the Zodiac Read online

  The skepticism in his gaze was evident, but he voiced none of it. “And you have no idea who changed him? Or who could be using him?”

  “None.”

  “So who’s really targeted you? Tyrus or the one who controls him?”

  Meg rubbed her arms, the move far more telling than she’d otherwise prefer. “Tyrus has been the one to act, but I know there’s more. There has to be more. He was given immortality for some reason. For some purpose.”

  “Then why now?”

  “Why does anything happen?” She dropped her hands. “It’s meant to.”

  “Nothing happens without cause.”

  “I gave him cause millennia ago. He’s simply ready to act.”

  An unwillingness to beg had characterized her entire life. It formed the bedrock of her personality. But in this moment, his eyes steady on hers, Meg found herself giving in.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “You’ve survived this long, I find it hard to believe things are as bad as you think they are.”

  “You think I wanted to come here?” Meg found her hands were fisted at her sides and willed herself to relax. “Do you honestly think I wanted to ask for your help?”

  A tense silence filled the space between them but Meg held her tongue, refusing to say anything further. Whatever he thought, she’d be damned if she’d give him the words.

  She’d resisted coming, despite the sick feelings each and every time one of Tyrus’s little packages showed up. But his attack on her home had been the last straw.

  “You claim you have nowhere else to go.”

  “I don’t.” The simple statement was bitter on her tongue, the truth of her situation as embarrassing as it was bleak.

  A situation you created for yourself, her conscience taunted her, not for the first time. Even if her destiny was to judge others with a harsh set of standards, she’d never seen it as an excuse to simply skewer others.

  Until Aidan.

  “I’ve followed you over the years.” A slight hitch filled his voice and she almost thought he wasn’t going to say anything else. She wouldn’t be surprised if he refused to reveal anything further, their days of sharing their thoughts long since past.

  But then he began again, his words a harsh reminder of her actions. “You’ve cut quite a swath of destruction through every relationship in your life.”

  Meg couldn’t deny it, even as she thought it odd his words would so closely mirror her own thoughts. A Fury by birth, warm and fuzzy had never been a part of her makeup. But it had gotten worse after Aidan.

  Worse as she spent each and every day of her endless life reflecting on her mistakes and her pain and turning it back on whomever crossed her path.

  “Why Tyrus? Why now?”

  “I think someone else has decided it’s time. His actions up until now have been threatening, but they’ve been like a bully on the school playground. His attack on my home raised the stakes in a way that hasn’t matched his previous actions. He’s the pawn. I know it.”

  “And you think I can find out who that someone is?”

  “You’re in service to the goddess of justice. If there’s anyone who can find answers, it’s you and your brothers. And I told you at dinner, your understanding of the turned immortal is invaluable. You’ll know his weaknesses.”

  Aidan stalked forward, closing the short distance between them. As he moved close enough for her to feel his body heat, desire and need dragged seductively across her belly and Meg fought their sly pull. The word “formidable” again ran through her mind, before being replaced by something more feminine.

  More achy.

  Images flashed through her mind of their own accord. The man she used to know, as mentally strong as he was physically capable. The moments they spent together, endless hours of pleasure and need and a gentle compatibility that she’d never felt with another.

  And then other painful memories, still so sharp despite the more than two thousand years that had passed.

  Memories morphed into the present as Aidan moved even closer. Those blue eyes, so bleak before, swirled with strong emotion and memories millennia old. “What will you do in exchange for my help? For the help of my brothers?”

  “I’ll do whatever you need.”

  “Anything?”

  His large body crowded her, the warmth of him like a brand across her body while the bookcase provided a hard wall at her back. When his mouth came down on hers, she whispered against his lips, “Anything.”

  * * *

  Aidan drank his fill of her mouth, the warm, welcoming taste of her lips like the sweetest nectar on his tongue. The moments spun out between them, smooth and fragile as silk, as they sunk into each other. Demanded from each other.

  Gave to each other.

  Do you honestly think I wanted to ask for your help?

  Anger swirled through the passion and along with it came knowledge. Of course she wouldn’t have come to him unless she was desperate.

  Aidan fought back the questions that assailed him and pushed away the grim truth. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to come to him for help. Didn’t matter that she’d only come to him because she was desperate.

  She was here now.

  His hands found her waist, her slim frame even thinner than he’d remembered. The slender bones of her hips were fragile under his questing fingers, the first tangible sign that maybe she was telling more of the truth than he’d originally been willing to give her credit for.

  The stress of her situation with Tyrus?

  The thought was swiftly followed by an angry roll of self-reproach. He refused to go soft for her. Refused to see her situation as anything other than something of her own, bitter making.

  He’d take, nothing more.

  Yet even in the taking, Aidan had to acknowledge one truth. He’d had his fill of women in the ensuing years and none had the power to cut him off at the knees as this one small, slim woman in his arms.

  None had the power to make him forget himself.

  None could replace Meg.

  Gods damn her.

  He pulled back, angry with her and even more disgusted with himself. So easily, she’d woven her spell and pulled him back in.

  And he’d gone willingly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Although she seldom apologized, Eris, goddess of discord and all around ass-kicker, took pride in the fact that when she did apologize, she did it right.

  And she owed her sister an apology.

  Big-time.

  Eris moved around her small, spare kitchen, gathering the ambrosia her sister loved so much from the refrigerator, then moved on to uncork the wine from her father’s vineyard. Her phone buzzed and she crossed the room, the light spring of anticipation filling her step at the sound of an incoming text message.

  She picked up the phone, anticipation morphing into something stronger—something more powerful—when she saw the sexy demand. Eris was halfway through a reply when she stopped herself and laid down the phone.

  This had to stop.

  Or she at least needed some fucking perspective which, she acknowledged as she looked at the even sexier reply she was halfway through composing, she didn’t have.

  Deleting what she’d typed thus far, she issued a short reply and hit send before she could question herself.

  NOT TONIGHT.

  Another glance at the kitchen table and the now silent phone and she knew this was another form of punishment for her fuck-up on the boat. Enyo had Themis’s warriors right where she wanted them. After planning and scheming, she was on the verge of winning.

  To hedge her bets, Enyo had brought her in as an ally and Eris knew she’d screwed that role up royally. She’d gone MIA in the midst of the firefight. For a man.

  Was that why she’d lost her edge? Was he the reason?

  The word love swirled around the edges of her mind, a taunting whisper of things she could never have. The unselfish ability to put another firs
t wasn’t in her DNA.

  She didn’t do love.

  And she sure as shit wasn’t the sort of woman men lined up to love in return.

  Eris shot one more glance at the phone, then stood to pace.

  Before she could dwell on it, her doorbell rang, saving her from the introspection she rarely indulged in.

  “Sister.” Eris leaned forward and kissed Enyo’s cold cheek after opening the door. “I’m glad you came.”

  Enyo swept into the house, her normal disdain set to high. “I can’t stay long.”

  “As you said on our call. But as I told you then, I owe you an apology and I intend to make up for my actions.”

  “I should say so. The damn Taurus is happily in love with that Montana Grant and they effectively killed Arturo in the process. He could have been useful, you know.”

  “You never told me exactly what happened to him?” Eris kept her question casual, hoping it would defrost a layer of attitude to focus on the misfortune of others.

  “The Taurus made quick work of him. Arturo never stood a chance.”

  For Eris’s money, she thought her sister’s choice in ally was circumspect, but she avoided the post-game discussion and instead gestured toward the kitchen table. “Please. I’ve got food and wine. Sit down for a few minutes.”

  Enyo sniffed, but her eyes had already alighted on the meal and she edged toward a chair. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” She took a seat, reaching for the bowl of ambrosia. “Something about an apology?”

  “Yes. I went into the fight with you and didn’t contribute as I needed to. We were stronger together and I failed you.”

  “In truth, it was more Arturo than you. But explain something to me. Where did you go?”

  Eris swallowed hard, knowing the question was inevitable. “After Montana escaped belowdecks, I took off after her, but ran into another warrior.”

  “There were more on the boat?”

  “Yes, one more best I could tell.” Eris nodded her head, unwilling to name him if she could help it. “We battled and I’m ashamed to say he got the better of me.”

  “You, sister?” Enyo’s eyebrows rose as a sly smile spread across her lips. “No one gets the better of you.”

  “Not often.” Eris bit back on the humiliating comment and the corresponding need to defend herself. She would take the embarrassment and leave it at that. There was no way she’d ever explain that she’d abandoned the battle to get her brains banged out belowdecks with Rogan Black.

  The Sagittarius was their sworn enemy.

  They’d tangled over the years and she’d always enjoyed the rush of volatile need when the mood hit, but something had changed in those moments on the boat.

  Shifted and exploded, more like it.

  And the gods help her, she couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle.

  Unwilling to dwell further—or allow Enyo an opportunity to dig deeper under the surface—Eris shifted the conversation. “All of this is past, sister. I’ve something new to discuss with you.”

  Enyo’s perfectly arched brow rose, but she only nodded, as if deigning Eris to continue speaking.

  “Arturo Verone was a blunt instrument, and a bad one at that. I’ve got something far better.”

  “Better?”

  Eris saw the spark of interest and pressed her advantage. “A useful tool, is what I’d call him.”

  “Him?” Enyo’s red lips turned down into a frown. “Did you learn nothing from our last little soiree, sister? Men can’t be trusted.”

  “This one can. He’s got a history with one of the warriors. A history I believe I can use.” Eris reached for her glass. “Something we can use, actually.”

  Enyo glanced up from the bowl of ambrosia, her eyes sharp at the news. “How far back?”

  “He was childhood enemies with the Aquarius.”

  “Where have you been keeping him all this time?”

  Eris contemplated just how much to share. She had several little projects going, none of which her sister needed to know about. “Men’s minds are easy to control, as you well know. He’s been content to do mercenary work for me.”

  “And now?”

  “I think he can be put to more effective use.”

  “Based on my personal experience, I can’t say I’d be all that quick to promote him. It’s why I prefer the Destroyers more often than not. They’re easy to control.” Enyo began ticking attributes off on her fingers. “They’re full of all that lovely testosterone, but they know how to keep pesky emotions out of it.”

  “Emotions?”

  “Of course. They say we’re the weaker sex, but you and I know differently, don’t we sister? Men and their sniveling honor and all that angst.” Enyo waved a hand. “It’s tiresome.”

  “You’ve been without one for far too long.” Eris reached for the ambrosia and ladled a modest scoop onto her own plate. Enyo had warmed up sufficiently and had given her the perfect opening, to boot. It was time to go in for the kill. “I know you needed to end Ajax but what are you going to do for companionship?”

  “I’ve got options.”

  “Of course. Of course you do.”

  Enyo tapped a long, blood-red fingernail on the tabletop. “None are quite as yummy as Ajax, but they’re options all the same.”

  Eris kept her gaze on her plate and the creamy richness of the ambrosia. “You’re welcome to take a look at Tyrus if it suits you. He’s not all that bright. I think you’ll like him.”

  “That’s an awfully generous apology, sister.”

  The sharp tone had her head snapping up and Eris had the fleeting thought that she’d overplayed her hand.

  “Why do I get the feeling there’s something else you want?” Enyo leaned forward. “Come on. What’s this little tête-à-tête really all about?”

  Eris plastered on a large smile and decided to go for broke. “I need your help.”

  “And?”

  “And I need to borrow a few Destroyers.”

  * * *

  Montana found her in the library the next morning, curled up in the chair Aidan had vacated. Meg looked up at the kind face and gentle smile as she scrambled to sit up.

  “Meg. Are you okay?”

  Meg glanced down at the soft blanket that covered her and wondered where it had come from. “Of course. Fine. I’m fine.”

  Early morning light flooded the room and she reached for the small end table lamp to turn it off for something to do. The fogginess of sleep burned off quickly while she fought to gather her thoughts.

  Hot images flashed through her mind’s eye as she remembered those stolen moments the night before. The lush, achingly familiar feel of Aidan’s lips on hers. The press of that large, imposing form as she leaned back against the bookshelves.

  And the hard set of his shoulders when he stomped out of the library.

  “I thought Callie made up a guest room for you.”

  “She did.” Meg stood and smoothed out her clothes. “I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d look for a book.”

  Montana smiled as her eyes alighted on the book still perched on the end table. “Adam Smith? No wonder you fell asleep.”

  “Oh goodness, no. I was going for a nice, juicy scare-fest with Stephen King. The Adam Smith was Aidan’s.”

  It didn’t take the sharp expression of interest that covered Montana’s face like a mask to have Meg mentally slapping her head.

  “Aidan’s?”

  “I stumbled across him when I came looking for a book.”

  Montana recovered quickly, whatever surprise she was feeling quickly tamped down. “Well, you’re both readers. You must have a lot in common.”

  “We don’t have anything in common.” Except those wild, exquisite moments I ruined so many years ago.

  Not to mention that wild, exquisite moment we engaged in about six hours ago.

  Montana gathered up the blanket, then crossed the room to turn off the small lamp that still burned on the opposite side of the
library. “People could say that about Quinn and me as well, but we do just fine.”

  “You two seem to do more than fine, if the fiery glances at dinner last night were any indication.”

  “Is it that obvious?” Montana blushed but whatever embarrassment she felt was eclipsed by a broad, satisfied smile.

  “Yep.” The sudden burst of pleasure on the other woman’s face had a raw stab of jealousy poking at her stomach.

  Uncomfortable with the feeling—and the root cause—Meg stood and worked a kink out of her shoulder from how she’d slept in the chair. Pushing a light note into her voice, she added, “I’ve still got the burn marks from standing in the line of fire.”

  “He’s the most amazing gift.” Montana folded the blanket, the welcoming look of friendship in her eyes only adding to the sense of guilt Meg couldn’t quite force away. “And if some members of the Pantheon had gotten their way, Quinn and I wouldn’t be here today.”

  “Callie gave me the shortened version of events. Enyo’s a bitch with a short fuse. You’re lucky you escaped.”

  “I’m not so sure she won’t come back.”

  The fear in Montana’s voice was as unmistakable as the fiery passion that arced between her and Quinn. “Want to talk about it?”

  “It’s silly.”

  “It’s not silly if it’s how you feel.” Inspired by the moment and a blossoming friendship that was as foreign as it was unexpected, Meg took a seat on the overstuffed leather couch that dominated one end of the library. She added a hard pat on the cushion next to her for good measure.

  “Come on. Spill it.”

  * * *

  Aidan threw the sweat-soaked towel into the laundry bin that sat near the door as he left the weight room. His warrior brothers had been blessedly absent for the duration of his workout, but the long stretch of quiet hadn’t been nearly as therapeutic as he’d hoped.

  Instead it had only given him more time alone with his traitorous thoughts.

  “You really are fucked,” he muttered to himself before slamming a hand over the light switch and leaving the room. Clearly his mutinous thoughts were their own special brand of torture no amount of time on the weight machines could assuage.