Fallen (Dark God Saga) Read online

  “No, no, no. Glad you like the restaurant and all, but what do you think of the guy?”

  “The maitre d’? Oh, he seems nice.”

  “I’ll get you his number before we leave.”

  “Please...don’t. I came out with you and wore the red dress, didn’t I?”

  Janet’s eyes scrutinized the body-hugging dress, and she grinned. ““Yes, you did. Fine. Maybe another time?”

  “Sure, Janet. Another time.”

  Their server--Brian--chose that moment to arrive, and he brought a bottle of complimentary wine, which Simone eyed with curiosity, along with the menus. She’d never gotten a bottle of complimentary wine before that didn’t taste on par with cat urine. After pouring the wine, Brian waited for them to taste it.

  Simone was surprised it was actually good. When Janet nodded, he rattled off their dinner special, the smile never leaving his face. As they perused their menus, Brian waited patiently, and when they ordered, he said, “Very well,” took their menus, and retreated to where she assumed the kitchen was housed.

  “How much are we paying for this meal again?” Simone asked, glad that she’d brought her credit card tonight. She doubted she had enough cash to foot the bill at this place.

  “We are not paying for anything, Sims.” A wink followed that statement, and Simone raised a brow. “Derrick is seeing to it.”

  “Derrick seems to be treating you very nicely.”

  “He’d better,” Janet replied with a soft pout. “Or he’s not getting any of this off-the-charts puss—.”

  “Janet!” Simone looked around, glad that no one seemed to hear her friend’s language. At least, no one was giving them glares of death. Yet.

  “What?” Janet asked wide-eyed, looking around as well. “You think that these people never heard about pussy?” She sipped her wine when Simone flushed and eyed her pointedly. “You’re too modest, Sims. They’ll either think I’m talking about someone’s cat or they’ll guess right. Whichever way, they’re not going to acknowledge it. They have too much “breeding” for that, or so they think.” She nodded for emphasis, and then said, “So, tell me about your week. I had the most horrid week.” To emphasize how bad, Janet dabbed at her forehead with two fingers. “Almost went to jail for murdering my new hairdresser. Chick thinks she’s the Asian Paul Frieda, and she’s a week out of beauty school.” Janet frowned hard and blinked even harder, throwing off the image. “I know that yours was better. Did you get any good invitations for Halloween? Any haunted houses that you’re going to right about for your column? Or Vampire Lairs?” She laughed, a trill that drew the attention of several males, who openly stared at her beautiful friend. “Well? What did you get?””

  Simone smiled. It was so easy to do so around Janet. Her personality was bubbly, so even if she irritated, offended, or just plain pissed you off, a smile was somewhere around the corner.

  “I got one really interesting invite.”

  “Oh, do tell.” When Simone took longer than Janet wanted, she asked, “Did Hef finally invite you down to the Bunny Ranch?” Janet pursued her pink coated lips and shook her head. “No? No Bunny Ranch?”

  Simone shook her head. “Have you ever heard of the Monster’s Ball? It’s a Halloween Ball at a renovated Virginia Plantation?”

  Janet’s eyes grew almost to the size of tennis balls. “Are you serious right now? You got an invite to that thing?”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Of course I’ve heard of it! What am I? Dead? It’s only the most popular Halloween ball in the US. So, you’re going right?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m still thinking—.”

  “You’re going! Even if I have to take your ass there myself.”

  Simone’s eyes widened, and Janet pinned her with her “Don’t mess with me glare.” One of them started giggling, and before long they were both laughing like two loonies in a mental hospital.

  By the time the server returned with their food, they were both famished. Too much laughing did marvels for the appetite.

  ***

  The sound of musical laughter caught his attention. Thanatos lifted his head from the copy of the Wall Street Journal on the table before him and looked in the direction of the sound. Two women, obviously friends, had just found something highly entertaining to laugh about. Finding nothing extraordinary about the situation, Thanatos was returning his attention to his company stocks when one of the women turned her head and looked directly at him.

  His breath caught. That should have warned him because he’d never had his breath stop from looking at a woman. Especially as the reason he was on earth, with his powers revoked until he’d learned from his punishment, whatever that meant, was because of a treacherous bitch of a goddess. He put that thought from his mind and focused on the human woman.

  She wasn’t the beautiful of the human actresses and singers, and certainly not that of the goddesses, but she was very pretty. Extremely so. Dark eyes, a burnt sugar brown, stared out at him from under thick fringed lashes. They were eyes he could lose himself in, deep pools of darkened amber. Her skin was the color of smooth caramel. Thanatos found himself wanting a taste, and the incredibly sexy red dress that brought his attention to the tops of her smooth breasts only made him want it more.

  The woman seemed natural, her face having the barest of makeup, a bit of powder, a dash of blush, and a touch of gloss.

  She blinked suddenly, gave him a shy, almost nervous smile, and returned her attention to her friend. Unable to help himself, Thanatos continued to stare, wishing for a glimpse of her legs, wishing he could get a glimpse of her sans the red dress. He wondered if she was like most human women, waxed or shaved smooth between her legs, or if she was natural. Blood rushed to his cock and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  With great reluctance, he tugged his gaze away. In the human world, he was a respected business man. He’d opened numerous companies in the countless years since he’d been here, and had investments in multi-billion dollar stocks. Thanatos, the god, had done well as human Thanatos Aeron, as pitiful as that sounded. It wouldn’t do to have him leave the restaurant with a hard-on from a woman he’d never see again. He wasn’t one for relationships, and certainly not the monogamous relationships human females seemed to crave, and the woman across the way screamed relationship with her shy, almost innocent, smile. Thanatos liked quick, hard fucks with experienced women who were into kink, as it appealed to the dark side of him that was still there, just...caged.

  He sighed and returned his attention to the newspaper. Every day when he awoke, he could feel the restlessness of his harnessed powers for a brief instant, barely a five seconds if so much, before they went dormant. Damn her! He would have killed Aphrodite when she’d come to him to gloat years ago if he’d had his powers. But his punishment was to be stripped of them, to live the life of a human, needing sustenance, shelter, susceptible to pain and injury, even death were it possible, until he’d learned his lesson. Hera had been vague, which meant that she either intended him to live among the humans forever, or hadn’t quite thought out his punishment.

  It did not matter. He had no intention of remaining in the human realm much longer. He would seek an audience with Zeus. One could not banish Death forever, even if Hades had temporarily taken his job.

  ***

  “Good Ben and Jerry’s cookies-and-ice cream God, but that’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, Sims, and he was just looking at you like he wanted to lick you all over.”

  Simone blinked and looked at her friend. She forced a smile and stole a quick glance back at the businessman whose attention had mercifully returned to the newspaper before him.

  “And you’re looking at him like you want to suck him all over, and I totally don’t blame you.”

  “Janet!” Simone whispered, feeling heat creep up her neck and cheeks that had little to do with her friend’s vulgarity and more to do with the fact that she had just pictured how he would look sprawled naked o
n her bed, with her doing exactly as Janet had said.

  “What? If he hadn’t been staring at you like you were his chocolate ice-cream, I’d pull down my cleavage, walk over there and introduce myself,” Janet said in a dazed voice, turning her head to stare at the dark haired man in the plain, but obviously, designer suit. As Simone watched, her friend yanked subtly at the already revealing bodice of her black cocktail dress. “Shoot, if you don’t do it, Sims, I still might.”

  “No!” Her voice was a tad sharper than she’d intended so Simone picked up her knife and fork and pretended to be busy with the sirloin steak before her. A little bowl filled with herbal rice was next to it.

  She cut a piece of the steak, and lifted it to her lips. It might have been really good, but she didn’t know. For all she knew, she was chewing paper. Janet was right. He really was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. God, she really had to pull herself together.

  “How’s your steak?” Janet asked after long minutes of silence.

  Pulling her attention back to her friend, Simone noticed Janet’s narrowed eyes.

  “Good.”

  “Yeah, and that’s why you only took one bite.”

  Simone shook her head. “No, Jan, it’s really good. I-I’m just not really hungry right now.” When she only received Janet’s blank stare, she tried to cover. “I told you I wasn’t that hungry on the phone. Remember?”

  Janet clucked her tongue, and reached across with her own knife and fork to take a piece of the steak. She’d ordered salmon and had already wolfed most of it down. Janet despised the word “diet” and anyone foolish enough to suggest one for her was made to feel the vicious sting of her tongue.

  Brian had cleared away the plates and were looking over the dessert menu, when another server approached her with a white square plate with strawberries covered with melted chocolate, and what looked like a mixed white and dark chocolate fountain in the center. Simone blinked in confusion when he placed it before her.

  “I didn’t order—.”

  “Compliments of Mr. Aeron, the gentleman by the window.” He looked over in the direction of the handsome, dark-haired stranger, before smiling and walking away.

  “Oh, you’d better give him more than a thank you tonight...” Janet’s voice disappeared when Simone turned her head to find Dark-and-Handsome staring at her in an intense way that made her feel like his hands were running all over her body, particularly over certain, tingling parts... She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes at this distance but knew they were dark. A wicked smile suddenly curved his lips up and Simone felt her legs tremble. Her center moistened and she clamped her thighs together. She looked away briefly. Oh Jesus. What was wrong with her?

  And then she gave him a quick smile that hopefully conveyed her gratitude before turning her attention to the dessert, and her meddling friend.

  “You do know you’re going to have to go over there and thank him, right?” Janet asked, giving her the “what the hell is wrong with you” look that Simone had become long since been acquainted with.

  “No, I already thanked him.”

  Janet scoffed. “Sims, you need to thank him either on your back or on your hands and knees, preferably with your mouth or your pu—.”

  “Oh my god Janet!” Simone hissed, not even bothering to look around to see who’d heard her.

  “Come on, Sims. You’re twenty-six.” After glaring at Simone as if being twenty-six was a bad thing, Janet lowered her voice an octave and continued, “And you’re still a virgin. A true virgin too.” Her voice lowered again until it was a bare whisper, “Not even a finger or a hairbrush or a highlighter!”

  “Thanks, Janet, for telling me my history,” Simone bit out with a glare. Sometimes she regretted telling Janet about her non-existent sex life, but her pestering friend hadn’t relented until she had. The only orgasms she’d had were self induced through clitoral stimulation, and she didn’t have an extensive collection of toys like yours truly before her. Still, it wasn’t as if she was desperate to lose it. She’d actually come to treasure it, and wasn’t willing to blow it on some loser, a category that encompassed all of her exes and most of the “potentials” she’d come across.

  “Sims, you know I love you, but come on, don’t you want to get laid?” Hazel-greens surveyed her as if she was a lab rat and an experiment was going on in her body. “Sometime before you’re gray, wrinkled, and losing bone mass?”

  “Can we not talk about this?” Simone dipped her spoon into the chocolate fountain and bought it to her lips. As the sweet syrup dissolved on her tongue, she sighed. Well, that was just perfect. Reaching for a strawberry, she took a bite and licked at her lips when the juice spilled over them. Another sigh joined the first as her lids fell. Sweet strawberries in the fall? How did they manage to find them? Dipping the spoon back into the melted chocolate, she brought it to her lips and savored the taste.

  “FYI, he’s watching you like he wants to be that spoon,” Janet said blandly. Simone blinked, caught her friend’s deadpan expression, and turned slowly to the man. He was watching her like...he wanted to walk over to the table, clear it, and throw her onto it. Damn the people who’d get a good show. She felt another burst of wetness and looked away. Strawberry covered chocolate and hot thoughts of a sexy man were not a good combination in public.

  “This is some serious bs, Sims,” Janet huffed. “I’m going to walk over there and give him your number.”

  Her manicured fingers touched the edge of the table as if she intended to push back and away.

  “Janet! Don’t you dare.”

  “This is the first guy I’ve ever seen you react like this to. Sitting there

  blushing like you’re twelve, and Nick from the Backstreet is telling you he wants it that way.” Simone frowned at the analogy but Janet wasn’t finished. “If you don’t walk over and get his number, I’m going to strangle you, right after I get the number for you.” When Simone didn’t move, Janet pushed up slightly.

  “No, Janet!” She passed a quick glance to the man, who’d stood and was actually making his way from the restaurant. “He’s leaving, anyway. See?”

  Simone watched him walk away, all tall, and Holy God was he tall, sleekly muscled, dark maleness. She was aware of the eyes, both male and female, that followed him as he walked, of the supreme confidence he emitted. She watched him approach the man holding the door, and easily slip a bill into his jacket pocket. The doorman nodded and said something, and then the gorgeous man—Mr. Aeron—disappeared.

  When she returned her attention to her friend, it was to find Janet staring at her in disappointment. She didn’t have to say anything. Simone felt the same.

  Chapter Two

  “What are you doing?”

  Simone started, clutching one hand to her chest to make sure her heart was still there, and the other to the pencil holder she’d almost knocked to the ground. Spinning her swivel chair, she glared at Jackson Bard, her co-worker and one of her few friends at the Traveler. He was staring at her computer screen curiously. Although obviously Caucasian, with his shocking head of platinum colored hair and baby blues, Jack was one of the few minorities employed by the Traveler. He had a pair of heels taller than hers and Simone knew he could work them better than she ever could. She’d seen Jack in action on a catwalk, and had hooted and hollered along with Janet, and all the other patrons of The Whiplash.

  “Why are you researching the Monster’s Ball?” Jack asked lazily, reaching into the cubicle beside hers and pulling the chair out. It was unoccupied due to recent layoffs. He was holding a bag in his hand, which he opened and pulled out two subs. He handed her one, and Simone knew it was a chicken breast sub on wheat bread with a touch of special sauce from the deli next door. She didn’t care what the hell went into the special sauce because it was just amazing. Jack plopped into the chair and continued, “It’s not like the Traveler, or any other magazine for that matter, is ever going to get an invite. That place has got more security t
han Fort Knox and the White House combined. Plus, I’ve heard some horror stories about journalists and reporters going missing after they tried to sneak into that place. What? What’d I say?”

  Journalists going missing? Simone blanched. She hadn’t heard anything about that. “You’re joking right?”

  Jack reached into the bag and removed his own sub, peeling back the wrapper and taking a large, messy bite.

  “What does it matter if I’m joking or not?” he asked, chewing and lifting a brow at her. “It’s not like any of us are ever going to see one inch—wait, what’s with the look, girly? Did you get an invitation or som—?” He broke off immediately, and chewed faster, eyes widening until his lids all but disappeared, and fanning his throat as if pushing the food into his esophagus. His voice was definitely octaves higher, hitting soprano, when he screeched, “You got an invitation to the Monster’s Ball in Virginia? Like the real one? Not the fake ones in Hollywood and New York, right? Seriously?”

  That was all it took. Within seconds, her cubicle was flooded with journalists curious to know if she had or hadn’t been invited and when she finally gave her response, the noise became unbearable. So unbearable that Mr. Johnson, Editor-in-Chief and all around dick, came to see if his staff had all lost their damn senses, and when he found out, he seemed to lose his mind as well. He even asked her to call him “Egan.” So that was what the “E” stood for. And that was just the beginning. The Traveler was going to sponsor the entire thing, her plane ticket, her hotel stay, her clothing, anything that she needed for the Ball. All she had to do was get a few pictures, some recordings, write a great piece that encompassed exactly what happened at the Ball, and she could even be promoted.

  It sounded great. It was great. The only thing was that despite how wonderful it sounded, something told her there was more to this Monster’s Ball than was thought, and much more than she wanted to find out.