Chapter Seventeen

“Lyleia, can you come in here, please?” Castor’s deep voice sounded on the intercom on her desk.

She frowned at the tone to his voice, one that didn’t seem quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he sounded almost…nervous. She didn’t like it. What had those gods been saying to him?

After the fight with Kaios, Castor had taken them both home to Austin. While he had once again insisted on sitting beside her on the flight, he’d been surprisingly quiet during the trip, and he hadn’t brought up their earlier conversation. For once, Leia had no clue what to say, so she hadn’t said anything either. Back home, he’d driven her to her apartment.

He hadn’t come in. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I need to arrange something. After that I’d like us to have a talk, but it might take me a day or two to wrap up this other thing. Will you wait—don’t make any plans or run off again—until then?”

“We can’t talk now?” Despite her long life, waiting now would be awful.

He gazed at her with a strange urgency. “No. This other thing needs to happen first.”

She’d frowned but agreed.

“Come into the office like normal tomorrow,” he’d said.

Even weirder, but okay. He escorted her to her door, which had a fresh coat of paint and a gleaming new lock. She raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged. “I may have broken your door the day you left.”

He’d been that desperate? She shook her head, holding back a smile. “You and that god complex of yours, Superman.”

He chuckled, then leaned down and feathered a ghost of a kiss across her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She’d watched, confused and lost, as he walked away, hands stuffed in his pockets, head bowed. Something was seriously wrong with Castor. Was he regretting those words to her in the glen? Their nights together? His kiss gave her a small amount of hope that regret wasn’t his issue. But if it wasn’t, what was?

Those questions had kept her up half the night. Her apartment, usually a place of comfort for her, had been more like a cage, and time her enemy as she waited for whatever came next.

Then this morning, she’d come into the office as requested, both eager to see him and dreading how he’d treat her. Castor was already there, the door closed between them. She resisted the temptation to barge in and demand what was up with him. He’d asked for her trust. So, curiosity and a need to be with him dragging at every action, she’d forced herself to get down to the usual routine, checking through a week’s worth of emails from her absence.

Around nine a.m., two gods she’d recognize anywhere had shown up in her office—Zeus and Poseidon.

The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as pure power pulsed through the room. Contrary to popular movies, they didn’t wear long robes and sport gray beards. Nymphs had a hard time resisting gods for a reason, and the power they exuded, a strong aphrodisiac by itself, wasn’t the only draw. Both appeared as young men, in their early thirties at most. Like their demigod offspring, both had broad shoulders, trim hips, and likely sported six-packs under those immaculate suits. Romanticized images of the perfect male body got the original blueprint from these immortals. Both were devastatingly handsome, though Zeus was dark—black hair, deep brown eyes—where Poseidon was fair—blond hair and green eyes.

They did nothing for her.

Leia sent Poseidon a hate-filled glare, then moved her gaze to Zeus, head held high. “May I help you?”

“We have an appointment with my son,” Zeus said, his voice a rumbling roll of thunder.

So that’s where Castor got his sexy, deep tones from.

“Come on in, Dad,” Castor called from his office.

The gods gave her a polite nod before entering Castor’s office, closing the door behind them. They’d been in there about an hour before Castor had called her in. Now, she smoothed the slim skirt of her deep red suit over her hips and checked the V of the jacket, which showed just enough cleavage. She’d forgone a blouse underneath this morning when she’d dressed, determined to remind Castor what he was missing. With a soft click, she opened the door and the three men all standing together in front of Castor’s modern glass desk turned to face her.

Castor’s expression gave nothing away. Damn, he looked amazing in her favorite black suit and maroon tie. With effort, she pulled her gaze away. Zeus appeared amused, if the quirk of his lips was anything to go by. Poseidon she refused to look at again. She might do something stupid like try to drown the god of the oceans with the water in the bottle on her desk.

That was until he crossed the room to stand before her, surrounding her in a cloud of salty sea air.

“Kaios caused a lot of problems for you.”

She raised her eyebrows pointedly, and he held up his hands. “Granted, I was part of the situation. Now he’s dead, I would like to make amends.”

She crossed her arms. “Oh, really?”

His mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything about her rudeness. Gods didn’t take sarcasm well most of the time. “Yes. His death negates my deal with him, an agreement bound by an unbreakable oath. Now I am no longer beholden by my word, and I can release your spring.”

Her arms dropped to her side even as her mouth dropped open. “What do you mean by release it?”

“You assumed it buried and gone, but it’s simply deep underground. I can raise it to the surface again.”

“You’re saying I can…” She swallowed. “I can go home?”

After ages without it, hope was no longer an emotion she attached to her life’s purpose as a nymph.

She glanced at Castor but encountered a stony expression. He was keeping his thoughts close. She pulled her gaze back to the god standing before her.

“Yes. Would you like that?”

She was tempted to roll her eyes at the fatherly tone to his voice and patronizing expression on his face. He thought he was doing her a favor. After all this time? Gods. They never changed.

She considered his question. Would she like that? Up until a year ago, she had been desperate for her spring. But now…

Another glance at Castor told her nothing. I guess that tells me everything. She turned back to Poseidon, her gaze steady, which was more than she could say for her shaking hands. “Yes. I would like you to bring my spring back.”

He inclined his head. “Consider it done.” He paused expectantly.

“If you’re waiting for me to thank you, you’ll be waiting centuries. That’s how long it’s taken you to put this right.”

His eyebrows drew low over his eyes, but she tipped her chin and stared him down. Eventually, he turned to Zeus. “I’ll wait for you by the elevators.”

That’s right, asshole. Run away. She glared after his departing back before turning to Zeus. “I assume I have you to thank for this?”

He crossed the room and took her hands in his. “I may have suggested my brother consider this action.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank my son.”

Her heart sank at the realization that Castor was trying to get rid of her. “I will.”

Zeus studied her, those sharp eyes taking in every nuance of her appearance. “I can see the appeal.”

Rather than worry she had yet another god on her tail, she could tell he meant it as an impartial observation. “Thank you.”

“You’ve been good for Castor. I thank you.”

She glanced between the two men with wide eyes. “All I’ve done is keep his business life organized.”

He shook his head. “You’ve done much more.”

“Father.” A warning note deepened Castor’s voice.

Leia didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

Zeus tipped his head. “After my brother releases your spring, you still have a choice, you know.”

“I know.” She did. She’d lived without her spring this long; she was fully aware what her options were.

He searched her eyes. What he found there must’ve pleased him because he gave a satisfied nod. Then he drew her forward and kissed both her cheeks. “Castor is not made of steel, though he’d like you to believe he is,” he murmured in her ear.

She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with that comment, but she also felt the truth behind the words. “I know that, too.”

He gave her a warm smile. “I believe you do.”

He turned and gave Castor a wave, receiving one in return. “Make good choices,” he called over his shoulder as he sailed out of the room.

Leia swung around to gaze at Castor, who stared right back. She cleared her throat. “Thank you for that.”

He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do.”

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she clasped them in front of her. Why was he being distant?

She waved at the door. “I’ll get back to work.”

He moved around his desk, sat, and turned his attention to his computer, effectively dismissing her. “When should I expect your resignation?”

She paused at the doorway. She couldn’t turn to face him, certain he’d see the devastation written on her face. He truly didn’t want her. Granted, she shouldn’t be surprised since they’d never discussed anything beyond a temporary attraction. However, after what he’d said in the glen before Kaios had appeared…apparently, she still had the capacity to hope in vain.

“I’ll call Brimstone today and have my official letter to you before I leave.”

She closed the door behind her with a click. On unsteady legs, she crossed the office to her desk. She sat, her gaze on her black computer screen, not really seeing it, too preoccupied trying to keep her tears at bay.

Who knew when she finally got her wish to return to her spring granted, she’d be reluctant to go?

After several minutes, when she felt more in control, she picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. “Hello, Delilah…”