Page 1 of Take Two (Valleywood: Season Three)
Chapter 1
Phobos
The snow had begun to soak through the seams of my leather dress shoes, my socks getting soggy and clinging around my toes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was in full-on wallow mode, and the squish in my shoes seemed to fit the mood.
I’d just bombed yet another audition, this time at XYZ Studios, for a secondary character on The Blazing Inferno, this cheesy soap opera that had been around for forever—well, no, not forever in the strictest sense. “Forever” held a different meaning for a god, but it had been a long-ass time compared to other soaps. It wasn’t like I’d had my heart set on the role or anything, but it would’ve been an in with the network, at least. And once I had my foot in the door, it was only a matter of time before I landed a starring role.
I could see it now, my name in the top spot on the marquee…
A snowplow drove by with a growl, honking at me to get out of the way. I hopped back with just enough time to avoid the rolling wave of snow that pushed up over the curb. I sighed. The city crews were out in droves, cleaning up after the “blizzard of the century” as the weather network had dubbed it, but it was going to take days to get things back to normal. It had been several days of heavy snow, enough to shut the whole city down. People had gotten stranded when their cars got stuck, and emergency crews couldn’t get out. I’d helped out where I could, but honestly, I’d given up trying to play the hero. Nobody even missed me.
My father was Ares, the god of war, so it had made sense for me and my twin brother, Deimos, to be his apprentices. Honestly, we hadn’t exactly been consulted on the matter. Deimos and I were both born with an innate ability to manipulate fear, and to say that Dad had been delighted was an understatement. We used to ride into battle with him, instilling panic and dread into the armies, creating chaos. But after a couple thousand years, that shit started to get old.
More recently, I’d taken on the role of Valleywood’s own superhero, saving people from muggings and bank robberies, flying in with my rippling cape, long golden hair flowing in the breeze. I’d even had my own sidekick, Cameron, and for a short while, I thought everything was perfect. I was so sure the people would love me and Cameron was going to become my lover, and it was going to be awesome!
But then Cameron chose my brother over me. Deimos, the villain, my kinda, sorta nemesis. It made zero sense to me. Why go for the bad guy when you could have a literal hero? Wasn’t that what omegas wanted? Someone kind who would be sweet to them? Someone strong, capable, loyal? But no. Deimos was all snark and sarcasm, and I was pretty sure they’d had sex in our parents’ bathroom in the middle of family night.
So, when my sidekick chose the morally-gray side and the hero business started to suck, I’d figured it was time for a new job. I was already rich, so I had options. I liked being adored, and in the end, it was an easy choice. Actors seemed to have it all—love, fame, wealth—so I figured why not? How hard could it be?
As it turned out, very .
I cut my hair short, wore the best designer brands, and my buddy Azazel hooked me up with an agent, Denny Clement, from his recently acquired talent agency, Abandon Entertainment. Getting auditions wasn’t the problem, though. Valleywood Studios was always busy, lots of movies and TV shows in production, and I started going to every open audition they had, whether I was a good fit for the part or not. I wanted my name on casting directors’ lips every time they thought about actors.
“I don’t think you’re quite what we’re looking for.”
“We decided to go in a different direction.”
“What did you say your name was again?”
I’d heard every rejection you could think of. But then the blizzard hit, and I’d kind of assumed that since it had kept most people at home, I would have a better chance at landing a role, but nope . “We’ll call you,” the director had said. Yeah, right. I knew what that meant. I wasn’t born yesterday. Pfft! Not even close! I was thousands of years old, and yet, I was still searching for where I fit.
Growling, I stomped down the sidewalk with a squish, squish, buzz . Huh?
I paused to reach into my pocket and pull out my vibrating phone. The screen lit up with a call from my sister, Harmonia.
I thought about ignoring it, letting it go to voicemail, but she was like a dog with a bone when it came to mending rifts in our family. She wouldn’t let it go.
Sighing, I answered the call. “What?”
“Is that any way to address your favorite sister?” she said sweetly, her voice a tinkling trill that usually soothed even the most savage beast. The fact that I was still scowling said something about my mood.
“You’re my only sister,” I huffed into the phone, my breath a silver cloud in front of my face. “Did you want something, besides to annoy me?”
She made a little squeak of protest. “Wow, what bug crawled up your ass and died?” I knew she wouldn’t push for an answer, because she knew exactly what—or rather who—had gotten under my skin. “I’m just calling to remind you about family dinner on Sunday. You’re coming, right?”
“Um…” I began, trying to come up with yet another reason to skip family dinner. I’d been dodging them for months.
“Because you know Cameron just had the baby, right? Right in the middle of the blizzard! He’s just the cutest thing. Don’t you want to meet your nephew?”
“Uh…” Shit, now I really didn’t want to go. I’d been doing my best to avoid my brother and his new mate. I didn’t need to see them being all lovey dovey, reminding me of everything I didn’t have. Love, sex, and a new baby. Because as if stealing my sidekick wasn’t bad enough, they had to go and start a family. What did a guy have to do to catch a break around here?
“I love you, Phobos. I miss my brother.”
“Then it’s a good thing you have another one,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
Harmonia’s sigh was like a butterfly farting rainbows, all delicate and sparkling light, and still somehow made me feel ashamed for disappointing her. “You know, I’m not supposed to pick favorites, and I’ll deny it if you tell Deimos, but you’re totally my favorite brother. Please, come.”
“I’ll… try.” It was the best I could offer, and even then, I already knew I wouldn’t be going. How could I when I had nothing to show for my life? No job, no love life, no prospects of any kind.
I made some fake staticky sounds into the phone. “Wha–can’t hear–you’re breaking up–must be another blizz–” Then I got off the call before she could force promises out of me I couldn’t keep. Pressing the end-call button, I squeezed my phone hard enough to crack the screen before I shoved it into my pocket with a growl.
Movement caught my eye. There was a man up ahead, shovel in hand, clearing snow off the sidewalk outside his shop. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, as if the cold didn’t bother him, and he had the sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up, exposing his toned forearms that flexed with each scoop of snow. He had a beard, with his dark blond hair trimmed on the sides and styled longer on top. As he bent down, a piece of hair fell forward over his eyes, and I wondered what color they were.
I didn’t know why he bothered shoveling. It wasn’t like anyone was out shopping this afternoon. They were all cuddled up with their loved ones at home, enjoying the unexpected time off work that the blizzard had afforded them. If I were smart, I would quit slogging through this snow and just duck into the alley and take off, using my godly powers to fly home, where I could then loaf around watching Golden Girls reruns for the rest of the day.
I was about to do just that, but instead, I found my feet rooted to the ground, my eyes glued to the man ahead. There was something about him… I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He wasn’t a god, that was for sure. And though I could admit he was damn sexy, he also wasn’t what I would’ve considered my type. Too… burly.
I probably would’ve ignored the tingling draw I felt toward him if he hadn’t turned and gone back inside, and my eyes flicked up to the name of his business: The Wolf’s Den.
A bar? Hm, it was early for a drink, not even 4pm yet, but that yawning depression that had been carving a hole in me for the past few decades—longer if I was being honest—made me feel hollow and aching. Maybe it could be dulled with a little alcohol. My great-nephew Dionysus would certainly agree.
And it was with that thought that I found my feet moving, pulling me toward the bar and perhaps a sexy lumberjack. At the very least, I deserved the distraction.