The Men of Otherworld: Collection One (2 page)

“Fine way of showing hospitality to a wandering stranger.” Zeus’s words were mildly slurred and, as he hiccupped, the scent of wine filled the air.

Great. Not only a lecherous god, but a drunken lecherous god. Roz knew better than attack him again—he no longer had the element of surprise, and the truth was, now that he realized it was Zeus standing before him, he was scared shitless. Gods didn’t play by mortal rules and while they could be killed, it would take someone far stronger than Rozurial to manage it. Not to mention the fact that, should he manage to actually
hurt
the god, the rest of the Olympians would be on his ass and he’d be toast.
 

Fraale was almost to Roz’s side when a whirl of wind swept through the door and a woman suddenly stood at the entrance, glaring at Zeus. She too, wore white robes and gold adornments, and her hair was coiled on her head in golden ringlets. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced from Zeus to Fraale, then back again to Zeus.

“I knew it. I knew you were gallivanting again. And what do I find? You, slumming with the dregs of the Fae. You can’t even keep yourself to our station—the nymphs would be better than this! Look at her—she’s not even
pretty
.”

Hera. It had to be Hera. Which meant they could be in one hell of a lot of trouble. Zeus was bad enough but the two had a marriage made in hell, and rumor had it that if you ended up between them when they were arguing, you might as well kiss your ass goodbye.

Roz slowly reached out for Fraale’s hand and, once it was secure in his, began edging his way toward the door. If they could make it outside, they might be able to hide until the divine couple patched things up and left. At worst, Roz thought, they could just leave town and start over somewhere else.

His plan might have worked—they almost had managed to reach the door—when Hera spun around, breaking off from browbeating Zeus who was listening to her with an
Oh, fuck, here we go again
look on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hera was suddenly in front of them, moving in a blur of speed. “I did not give you permission to leave.” Her eyes were steely blue, and Roz’s stomach lurched at the wave of anger rolling off the goddess. It raced like a tidal wave, surrounding both him and Fraale, forcing them to their knees. Roz struggled against the pressure, but found himself unable to move or speak.
 

Fraale let out a whimper as Hera stepped closer and reached out to cup her chin. “So, you are the girl who captured my husband’s attention this time, are you?” Her voice had become very soft, which was more frightening than when she was screaming.

Roz struggled, still holding Fraale’s hand. She squeezed tightly, and he could feel her fear through their contact. He desperately wanted to break free, to drag her outside away from all of this to safety, but his body refused to obey.

Hera leaned down, staring into Fraale’s eyes. “You wish to seduce the husbands of other women so badly? Then I’ll make it easier for you.”

Fraale whimpered again, and managed to eke out a whisper. “No…I did not…I didn’t touch him—I didn’t ask…”

“Oh, none of you
touch
him. None of you
ask
for his attentions. I’ve heard it so many times I might as well commission a sad song for you. But still, I find him in your house, and his scent is on you.” Hera’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light. “His hands were on you.”
 

“Leave the girl alone.” Zeus seemed to break out of his stupor and came striding forward. “We’ve been through this before. You know my eye wanders. You knew this when you agreed to marry me.”

“Your eye may wander, but your hands and body follow and therein lies the problem, my husband.” Hera shook her head, a pained look crossing her face. “How many times have you apologized and then I find this…again and again.
I will not stand for it.
I will not stand by and watch you cavort with some mortal trollop.” She turned abruptly, slapping him across the face. “I ask for so little. I ask for respect and for honor. If you’re going to take lovers, at least take them from those worthy of the attentions of a god. Not some…some…succubus.”
 

“Hera, you are my wife and the mother of the gods—compose yourself!” Zeus blustered up, and a roll of thunder split the air outside. Through the window, Rozurial could see one hell of a bank of storm clouds race in as rain began to lash the ground.

But Zeus’s order fell on deaf ears. Hera sputtered, then, glancing back at Fraale, she let out a snort. “I said
trollop
. You want to seduce husbands away from their wives? Then do it right, at least.” And with that, she reached out and brushed her hand across Fraale’s forehead. In a flash of light, the goddess vanished, a trail of laughter echoing behind in her wake.

Fraale let go of Rozurial’s hand. She dropped to the ground, screaming. Roz tried to go to her, but Zeus reached out, held him back.
 

“Do not touch her, boy. Not yet.” The god stared at Fraale, his voice a whisper. Roz tried to break free but Zeus held him steady.

Fraale was convulsing, frothing at the mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head. She let out one long, piercing scream as Roz began to weep. He was losing her—he knew it. She was dying and he couldn’t even comfort her.

But instead of collapsing, the fit began to pass. Fraale lie there, her eyes closed, but she was breathing. Zeus let go of him then, and watched as Roz fell to his knees beside his love.
 

He felt for her pulse, which was rapid but steady, and then brushed her hair back away from her face. There seemed to be something different about her. She was the same and yet…something had changed. As she slowly opened her eyes, the glint in them made him nervous.
 

“Love, love are you all right?” Roz slid his arm behind her back and helped her sit up. “What happened—” He stopped. The woman in his arms was not his Fraale. Not entirely. Of that much, he was certain.

She let out a long sigh, almost exasperated. And then, without a word, she drew him in for a kiss, her tongue playing against his. She was warm in his arms, pliable, and he found himself wanting to fuck her right there, in front of Zeus. All he could think about was how beautiful this woman of his was, and how she needed him. But then, as the kiss went on, he began to feel dizzy and with a start, realized that he was losing consciousness. Another moment, and the world went black.

“You awaken, then?” Zeus was sitting there at the table, staring at him.
 

Roz realized he was stretched out on the length of polished wood, his head aching and feeling like he’d been sick for a long, long time. He tried to sit up, but Zeus shook his head and pushed him back down.
 

“Rest yourself. You are still weak.”
 

“What…what happened?” And then, he remembered. “Fraale! Fraale? Where’s my wife?” He brushed away Zeus’s hand and forced himself to a seated position. The room began to spin, but he squinted, staring at one spot on the wall to help him focus enough so that he could manage sitting up.

“Your wife. She drained you. She would have killed you if I hadn’t intervened, but truth is: She didn’t realize that she was siphoning off so much energy. She’s hungry, she needs to feed.” The god sounded genuinely sorry.

Rozurial frowned, trying to understand what Zeus was saying. Hunger? Siphoning off energy? Oh no…he couldn’t mean… “Hera, she turned Fraale into a vampire?” His heart was about to rip out of his chest and shatter on the ground.

Zeus quickly held up a hand. “No, no—rest easy on that. Your wife is no vampire.”

“Then, what are you talking about?” Thoroughly confused and exhausted, Rozurial turned helplessly toward Zeus. “What happened? I don’t understand.”

Zeus suddenly looked old. Old as the hills, old as time. His shoulders slumped. “Hera turned your wife into a succubus.”
 

And that was all he needed to say. Roz knew what succubi were. Sexually charged energy vampires—minor demons, to be precise. The thought of Fraale, wanton and seeking to feed her hunger of any man she came to, churned in his stomach. He wanted to shout, to rail against the heavens, but it would do no good. The
heavens
were sitting in his living room. The
heavens
had caused this.

“What am I going to do? I love her—I love her and I can’t stand the thought of losing her.”

At that moment, the door opened and Fraale stood there. Her dress was different—she was wearing a lower cut gown that sparkled in the evening light, and her eyes were glowing. Her lips looked so moist that it made him hard,
so
rock-hard and ready to fuck her. He hung his head, unable to speak.

She moved slowly through the room to him. “Rozurial. I’m sorry.” Her voice was as broken as his heart. “I didn’t mean to…I couldn’t help myself…” Her words drifted off and she burst into tears.

Rozurial turned to Zeus. “This is
your
fault. Fix it. Do whatever you need to but fix it.”

Zeus looked from Fraale to Roz, back to Fraale again. “I cannot undo what Hera did—no one but she has the power to undo her magic, and she has a long and harsh memory. But…I will do the only thing I can think of to help.” He stood, then reached out and touched Rozurial.

Roz felt something beginning to shift inside, a warm glow that quickly became a raging fire, rampaging through his body—burning the cells, shifting and changing him. As he fell back on the table, his body beginning to spasm, his last thought was, “I’m dying.” And then, the darkness hit again.

“So here we are.” Fraale gazed at him, her luminous gaze fastened on his own.

“Wherever here is.” Roz pressed his lips into a thin line as he stared out the window. He was hungry—the ache was always there now. The desire to touch, to kiss, to run his fingers along female flesh. To taste the energy that charged him up like a fresh eye catcher, about to explode. No matter how much he and Fraale had come together, fucking their brains out over the past weeks, the ache refused to be satiated, for either of them. Now, they faced each other, honestly, the truth painfully evident.

“I love you.” He swung around, catching her hands in his. “You know how much I love you. I never wanted anything more than to grow old with you, to have children, to make some semblance of a normal life.
You know that
, don’t you?”

Her breath was ragged, this time from tears. “Don’t say it. Please, don’t say what I know you are going to say. There
must
be a way we can return to normal. Every man I touch reminds me that he’s not
you
. But I can’t stop myself. I killed someone last night, Rozurial. I killed someone—drank him dry of energy. I didn’t mean to and I’ll never let it happen again. I swear on my life. If I have to slit my own throat, I’ll never use my kiss to kill again. Can’t we try one more time? We can sustain each other—” But her pleas fell away.

Rozurial’s own eyes were wet. “We’ve
tried
. My love, every day we make this pledge in the morning. Every night, we roam the astral and hunt down victims. We can’t live with each other anymore. The guilt will eat us alive. If we stay together, we’ll drive each other mad. I can’t stand to think of you with other men but I know you need them.
I know your hunger because I feel it myself.
”

How many times had he ranted toward Olympus? How many times had he cursed the name of Zeus the destroyer? Rozurial felt like he had when Dredge had killed his family—full of hate and fury and passion.

Fraale was sobbing so hard he thought she might break. She fell to her knees, pressing her head on his lap. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave. What will I do without you?”

“My love, that’s not the question. The question is,
what will we do to each other if we stay together?
I think we have to accept that there’s no going back. There’s no miracle, no magic that can fix this. The healers and witches told us that. Zeus and Hera ignore our prayers. Face reality, Fraale. We’re stuck like this.”

And that was the kicker—they were stuck in a glamorous world of sex and charm and passion, but they couldn’t share it together without destroying what love they had left.

Fraale pushed herself to a cross legged position and wiped her tears on her sleeve. She gazed up at him, and he saw the resignation in her eyes.
 

“I know,” she whispered. “I know this is the end.” She let out a shuddering sigh and pushed herself to her feet. “I will always love you. I’ll always miss you. And I’ll always hate the gods. With the last of my breath, I will curse them.”

He rose, pulling her tight against his body. They fit together. That was the hellish part. They had come together and built their love and their life, and now, in love, they were being forced to dissemble everything they had ever known.
 

Burying his face in her hair, he kissed her gently. “We have to walk away and not look back. There’s no getting past this pain, my love. Every time I look at you, I remember what joy we had.”

She pressed her cheek on his shoulder. “And I look at you and remember the promise of the future. Now, everything is shrouded in fog.” Resolutely, she took a step back. “Promise me this: in a year, we’ll return here. To this house. To meet and…check on each other? Promise me, on your oath. That way we won’t do anything stupid.”

He nodded, understanding the unspoken message. “I promise. One year, right here, we will meet.” He glanced around at the tidy home they had made. “I sold the goats to the farmer across the hill. Your half of the money is on the table.”

Fraale shivered. “I don’t want to leave. I was so happy here.”

“I know.” Rozurial picked up the bag of coins and pressed them into her hand. “You go first. That way, the house won’t seem so empty when you leave. That way you’ll remember me here.”

“Remember you? I’ll never forget you, my love. Never.” Fraale turned and, tears silently streaking down her cheeks, headed for the door. As it swung shut behind her, Rozurial took one more look around the house that had been his home for too short of a time.