Page 22 of Curses & Keys (Curses & Gods #1)
PHAEDRA
T he money transfer goes through immediately, and we head back to the airport.
Gatlin boards the plane first, and when he deems it safe, the rest of us join him.
I settle in and study the image Kline drew.
Six gods are depicted on the panel. Hephaestus with his hammer.
Athena, easily recognizable in her helmet, with her spear in her right hand.
To her left, Ares, his shield half-raised toward Hephaestus.
Those two never did get along. Then, Apollo, laurel crown on his head and bow in hand, stands next to Artemis, his sister, with her own bow and arrow.
Last but not least, Demeter. Gratitude overwhelms me as I trace a finger over the last god.
The one who advocated for me so long ago.
Why does the panel only show these six and not the twelve Olympians?
Maybe one of the other panels shows the rest of them?
Some of the details in the vision are hazy.
Hawthorne leans over my shoulder. “There’s something in the middle.”
The low timbre of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, but I force myself to focus on the sketch. “Show me.”
He points to the way Athena’s head is tilted, and Apollo’s eyes are downcast. “It looks like they’re staring down at something.”
Flipping it around, I stare at it from a different angle. “I’m not sure. Maybe?” My eyes drift up to meet his, and I find myself staring into his green eyes.
He raises an eyebrow. “Where do you think we should start first?”
His use of “we” sounds better than it should. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about Letz and his society, but too many years of caution hold me back. “Besides the place Letz told me about, we should look up the original dig. See exactly where the archaeologist discovered the items.”
He leans in closer, inhaling deeply. “At first, I thought you might be a siren. Or a succubus. But you don’t smell of fire and tobacco, just the sweet, luscious scents of jasmine and vanilla. I’ve never smelled the combination on anyone else. What are you?”
The low, husky tone of his voice sends shivers down my spine. Jamison was telling the truth. I wonder if I smell different to everyone or just them. Nobody has ever commented on it.
Part of me is tempted to lean forward and kiss his firm lips, but the other half is amused at his attempt to seduce the answer out of me. I lean in until our lips are almost touching.
“Does that work on most women?” The husky tone of my voice conveys my interest in him. I don’t mind the seduction. Just the reason behind it.
Half-lidded, he stares down at me. “Most women want to share everything about themselves.” He holds up two fingers a half-inch apart. “You share little. I’m left to guess. Something I don’t like to do.”
Another thing we have in common. “I’m a woman. Isn’t that enough?”
He chuckles. “A very smart, intriguing woman with too many secrets.”
I blush at the blatant interest in his gaze, but I avoid replying by picking up the sketch again. “You know what’s weird? I don’t remember hearing about this discovery, and I can recall almost all of the Greek expeditions.”
Brows furrow as he thinks about it. “Neither do I. And I was alive back then.”
So was I. “When did you cross over?” I ask him, thinking of all the things we have in common.
“Three thousand years ago,” he replies softly.
“I was one of the first here. Not by choice, either. We didn’t know the portals existed back then.
One day, I was walking in Langit, the Elven world, enjoying the view of my land, then suddenly, I was here.
I tried to step back through, but it was a one-way ticket.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t return. ”
There’s a depth of sadness in his eyes that I’ve seen many times over the years. Crippling guilt seizes me. This is why I never tell anyone the truth.
“Did you leave someone…special behind?” I ask, breath held.
His voice lowers. “My family, but thankfully, not a mate.”
I lay my hand on his. “I’m so sorry.” More than he’ll ever know.
His thumb rubs across the top of my hand. “Thank you.”
Charlie’s voice comes on the speaker. “We’re landing in fifteen minutes. Seatbelts on. I don’t want to be responsible for injuring the council’s most illustrious security team.”
I have to fight the urge to smile at Charlie’s snarky comment. He’s never been one to pull punches. Jamison and his team bristle at the remark, but they buckle up even when they don’t need to do so.
Tuning out their discussion about where we’re staying tonight, I slip my phone out and send a quick text.
I need to get the small key Letz handed to me right before he died, but I sure as hell don’t want to take them to the farmhouse.
Unfortunately, my only other option is Maverick, who hates to lend his car to anyone. This is going to cost me.
After we land, I turn off my phone, murmur something about the restroom, and head to the back of the hangar. Gatlin’s suspicious gaze follows, but I ignore him. Making excuses will only make him more wary.
As Maverick walks past me, he slips a key into my hand. “When you’re done, just tell it to go home.” Glee lights up his face at the chance to distract Jamison and his team. Trouble stirs his demon blood.
I walk out the back and stop dead in my tracks. Maverick didn’t give me his car. He gave me Charlie’s Lightning LS-218 electric motorcycle. The fastest on the market. What was he thinking? It might be quieter than a gas-powered engine, but it still roars.
Shit!
I look around, but there’s no other vehicle out here.
It’s this one or I try to sneak away later.
Cursing the devilish demon, I swing a leather leg over the bike and grab the helmet.
A quick prayer and I turn the key. Not a peep.
I lay my hand on the engine. Small vibrations assure me it’s on.
Charlie must have used magic to kill the noise.
With a grin, I lean down, release the brake, and the damn thing shoots off like a rocket. Unlike a gas motorcycle, there is no gradual increase in speed. Within two seconds, I’m at 60 mph. Ten seconds, I’m at 200. This is fantastic. I know what I’m buying myself for my birthday this year.