Page 38 of Curses & Keys (Curses & Gods #1)

PHAEDRA

H awthorne is only curious, but it stings.

It’s my choice to be alone. Loving a human with their short lifespan would have only brought me heartbreak, and supernaturals were a risk.

Still are. Every day I spend with the four of them is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

The gods aren’t exactly forgiving, and the last thing I want is for them to end my existence.

Not because I’m afraid of death. But because I would never get to apologize to my sister.

Beg for her forgiveness. See her one last time.

Time is the only thing that brings me closer to her.

Three thousand years or three hundred thousand, I’ll gladly spend those alone to get one minute with her.

The box with the initials, mine and my sister’s, is tucked away in my bag.

It’s a miracle the society found it. I wonder if they know who I am.

Rupert’s expression seems to suggest they’ve figured it out.

It should worry me, but the society has kept a lot of secrets over the years, and I don’t see that changing any time soon.

Charlie comes over the intercom to let us know we’re landing in fifteen minutes.

Opening my eyes, I find Hawthorne still sitting across from me, engrossed in the laptop.

Mahogany locks fall into his face as he lifts his head, but he quickly shoves them back.

Green eyes full of worry study me closely as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m still upset.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I’m not very good at sharing.

It’s not because I want to keep things from you.

I… I’ve made decisions in my past, and right or wrong, I stand by them even if a part of me wishes for something different.

” And I do. These men make me want more. They fit in a way I never expected.

“I let my curiosity get ahead of my manners. I’m sorry,” he assures me as he turns the computer toward me.

“Take a look. I worked on a plan that I think will allow us to hit the most likely targets first. It incorporates the low to high suggestion you made earlier but rules out symbols on tiny or odd spaces.”

Astonished, I examine the quadrants he’s outlined on the schematics. “You worked on this the whole time I was asleep?” He put a lot of work into this plan. I cringe, feeling really bad.

“What do you think?” he asks, ignoring my question.

“It’s brilliant,” I reply with a rueful smile. “Thank you.”

The plane dips, and Charlie comes on the intercom. “Seatbelts. We’re landing.”

“He does know we’re immortal, right?” Hawthorne mutters with a frown.

“His aircraft, his rules,” I say, mimicking Charlie’s familiar response. “I like flying with him too much to rebel.” Flying is much better than portals.

Minutes later, we’re taxiing to the hangar.

“Thanks, Charlie,” I tell him as we exit the plane. “Should I text you when we’re ready to leave or catch a flight with someone else?”

“You better not,” he warns me. “Jamison paid for me to be available the whole time you’re here.”

Shocked, I raise an eyebrow, then whistle. “That must have cost him a few gold bars.”

“I’m not cheap,” Charlie returns with a boyish grin. “Go. Dig. Find treasure. I’ll be here.” He looks around. “Somewhere with a bar. Text me when you’re ready to go.”

I salute him and inhale deeply, letting the smell and feel of home seep into my bones. A prickling awareness settles between my shoulder blades, and I grimace. The gods are always closest in Greece. It’s why I rarely return. That and the memories.

I lift my chin in defiance and jump into the passenger seat of the Range Rover, waiting by the plane. “Let’s go.”

The sun is setting as we head from the Athens airport to the site. It’s open to the public during the day, which means we’ll likely have to return tonight, but I want to conduct a test first.

When we get there, crowds of people are meandering through the temple.

“This used to have trees around it. Pomegranate, myrtle, laurel trees, and more. The smell was incredible. Vibrant. Rich.” I stare at the walls, comparing them to the last time I saw them, shortly after the temple was finished.

It’s in remarkably good condition, given the number of years that have passed.

We use our academic credentials to slip through the line of people and head straight into the temple. Pausing for a second to orient ourselves, I use the friezes to figure out my direction. Looking up, I spot the images that depict the Fall of Troy and point them out to Hawthorne.

He nods. “West, east, north, south.” Opening the laptop, he positions the schematics to mimic the same orientation. “There. The schematics show the symbol next to the side entrance to the cella. Lower right.”

We quickly move to the location and find the symbol. Hawthorne positions himself in front of me while I reach out and place my left palm in front of the anvil and hammer. Just like before, there’s a small glow that quickly fades. Nothing else happens.

“It worked, but this isn’t the right one,” I inform him, standing to show him the quickly fading brand on my hand. “Let’s grab something to eat. Once it gets dark, we’ll come back. I used my Duke credentials to reserve the temple for us.”

His brows crash together. “I thought the plan was to stay incognito.”

“Too many guards,” I tell him. “And too many symbols to check. Easier if they thought we were conducting some type of light experiment on the marble.” He raises an eyebrow. “First thing I could think of when submitting the request.”

“We’ll need to move fast,” he murmurs, eyes darting from the laptop to the room. “While we eat, I’ll narrow down my plan to the most likely first. The last thing we need is for our enemies to discover us here.”

I rest a hand on his arm and feel the corded muscles under his shirt. “Don’t worry. I promise to protect you.”

He narrows his eyes and gives me a frustrated look. “I know you see me as a nerd, but I assure you, I’m quite capable of protecting us both.”

Not wanting to alert the entire world to our presence, we decide to limit our light to two flashlights and one lantern. The first hour goes by quickly as we eliminate seventy-seven marks. None of them results in a grand discovery.

Blowing out a breath, I look over at him. “One quadrant down. Where is the next symbol?”

Using the flashlight, he points to the wall across from us. “There.”

I walk over and hold my palm up to it. “Nothing.”

He crosses the spot off on the schematics and flashes his light on the next.

For the next five hours, we continue to test every quadrant until there are none left. He heaves a huge sigh and thrusts a weary hand through his hair.

“We have to be missing something,” he says, squinting at the laptop.

“Take a break,” I urge him. When his eyes find mine, I sit on the floor in the center of the room. “Eat some of the snacks Mathias sent. Drink some water.”

“We need to keep going,” he insists, but I shake my head at him.

“Frustration makes for sloppy work,” I tell him. Grabbing a bag of peanut butter pretzels and a water, I munch and drink for several minutes.

He gives in and comes over and holds out his hand for the pretzels. “I know. Normally I have all the patience in the world for research and discovery, but I can hear the minutes ticking away and your safety along with it.” He pops a few of the pretzels into his mouth.

“You know… there used to be two statues in here. Hephaestus’ stood there.” I point to a spot near the wall. “And Athena’s stood across from him.”

“Maybe we’re approaching this all wrong,” he replies as eyes follow my finger. “Tell me about the temple when it was new.”

“There wasn’t much more to it than it is today,” I say with a shrug. “The statues. The altar. A painting in the center where we’re sitting. A few more small mythological scenes painted on the pediments and the metopes that weren’t sculpted.”

He eyes the sides of the cella. “This is the exact center of the room. You say there was a painting right here.” He pats the bare floor. “Where was the altar?”

I point to the far wall and watch as he shines the lantern on the space. “There’s nothing there now. Not even a piece of rubble. Or symbols.” His tone is full of disappointment.

Pain stretches across my shoulders and neck, and I reach back to rub the tense muscles.

He kneels behind me and brushes my hand away.

Strong fingers knead the knots as his healing powers cascade heat into my weary muscles until I’m practically a puddle of goo.

The distance between us is miniscule. I’m tempted to lean against his strong chest.

Instead, I drop my head back to peer up at him. “Thank you.” My voice is huskier than I would like, and the flare of heat in his eyes tells me he hears it.

His head dips, and the scent of him and his magic fills my senses. With a deep breath, I cup my hand around the back of his neck, telling him without words what I need.

Hawthorne stares down at me. “I want to do this again. With you. When there aren’t any enemies chasing after us.”

His lips find mine, and he claims them with a promise I’m afraid to believe in, but I let myself slide into the depths of his kiss.

Unlike Jamison’s fierce kisses that pull my emotions from me, Hawthorne’s sensual onslaught makes me want to give him everything.

One large hand slides under my neck as the other turns my body around to face his.

Time slows. Filled with longing and desire, I arch into him, needing more.

His hand drifts across my back and down my side, leaving a slow burn in its wake.

He groans and lifts his head, breaking the kiss, then gathers me into his arms. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you, and finally, here, in this temple, everything felt…right.”