“His revenge?” And before she knew it, Eros swept her into his arms and held her tightly. Time seemed to stop. Her lungs felt frozen, as if she couldn’t breathe, but yet she was not panicked. She was at peace. Complete peace. Surrounded by a soothing white light. Her mind flooded with images.
Ares, enraged. A father’s rage. And shame. He should have known. He should have been able to protect his daughter, his beautiful Alkippe. Alkippe, raped by Halirrhothios, son of Poseidon. Who could blame Ares for his brutal actions? Eve watched Ares lose control, wild with a dagger in his hand, stalking his weaker opponent, hovering over Halirrhothios. She felt his pain. He wasn’t a killer, not really. This was justice. Justice!
She didn’t even bother to ask how it happened, how she could see it all? Feel it as if she had been there? Some sort of magic. Why question the gods?
She opened her eyes and felt breath — blessed breath! — fill her lungs. Fog had closed in around she and Eros. When it cleared, she saw that they were on a small island in the middle of the ocean, a bare stretch of sand, little more than a sandbar with one lone palm tree. Ares was across the sand, tied to that tree, his head hanging, hair falling loose. Was that blood? Blood dripped from the side of his face. He wore only a small cloth around his middle. She could see the bruises all over his body. He had been beaten!
The important thing now was that she had to get to him, to let him loose and tend his wounds.
“Ares!” She launched into a run, not even caring that her robe opened.
“Stop!” Eros called, but it was too late.
The sand in the middle of the bar dissolved into water, and she crashed into the waves as they churned into a wild whirlpool. She struggled against the water, but could not stay on the surface. Any minute now, her body would fail her. Her lungs would fill with water. She would die.
But all she could think about was Ares, and the future they would be denied. It didn’t matter. As long as he was safe.
“Ares!” she called out. “I’ll always love you.”
She heard high-pitched feminine laughter. And then she could hear no more.
Ares looked up in time to see her go under. He ripped from his bonds, ran to the narrow pool and struggled to reach for her. The pool was too small for them both. He had no idea how deep. Instinct warned him it was a cleverly designed trap of Poseidon’s. If he jumped in to save her, his weight would force her deeper and she would surely drown. All that was left, to try to reach her and pull her up and out. Eros, the fool, stood back and watched it all, a bemused observer.
“You idiot!” Ares hissed. “She’s going to die! Why did you bring her?”
“I brought her because she’s the only one who could save you.”
“Clearly.” He snorted, still struggling to grasp her hands, still reaching up through the waves. She was a fighter, his woman. How he admired her!
Admired? No. He loved her, he knew. He loved her! Ares had never known true love before. The feeling astounded him. “Make it stop! I love her! Take me, Poseidon. Take me instead!”
Poseidon and Amymone appeared at his side.
“Delighted to make the trade,” Poseidon said, and pointed his sceptre at the pool. It turned into sand, bringing Eve to the surface. She was unconscious, but she—
“She is alive?” Ares asked.
Poseidon shrugged. “She will live.”
Amymone laughed, a shrill and irritating noise. Even death would be better than a lifetime at Amymone’s side. No wonder Poseidon was such an ogre.
“I mean to keep my bargain, then. Do it, Poseidon. Take my life. As I took your son’s, the raping bastard.”
Poseidon raised his sceptrre, as if about to inflict the final blow.
At last, Eros stepped forward. “Poseidon! The court’s decision is final. You will not harm Ares on penalty of your own death. He has fulfilled our expectations. Aeropagos has concluded.”
Aeropagos! The special court formed on Mount Olympus to determine Ares’ guilt or innocence in killing his daughter’s rapist. He had been acquitted, or so he’d thought.
“It was a conditional acquittal,” Eros explained. “I was sent to see that you lived up to the condition.”
“And the condition was?” Ares raised a brow, the scarred one.
“That you showed you could set aside your warring ways and sacrifice all for love. Why else would they send Eros? I know love more than anyone. And you did. You were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, your life for hers.”
“Anything for her,” Ares nodded. “I love her. We’ve only just met, but I feel I’ve known her always, body and soul. I need her as I’ve never needed.”
He approached and scooped her in his arms. “I want her as I’ve never wanted.”
“Then we’ll take the girl,” Amymone said, a wicked smile on her pink lips. “It’s only fair. To make up for the loss of our beloved Halirrhothios, you give up your beloved Eve to Poseidon.”
“Halirrhothios got what he deserved. The court has determined justice in this case,” Eros interrupted. “The girl is free. Ares is acquitted. Aeropagos is concluded. Let us go our separate ways.”
Poseidon and Amymone, no doubt disappointed by the court’s decision, disappeared as quickly as they’d come. Ares had no recollection of leaving Eve’s bed. And now, she was limp in his arms.
Ares watched her, but Eve did not seem to be breathing. He leaned to her tender lips and offered her a breath of his own. “Breathe, my love! Live!”
Just as his heart felt squeezed to a pulp, she coughed, sputtered, and turned away from him to spew the water in her lungs to the sand. She was naked, her dress long lost, torn off in the force of the tide pool. He smiled at the coincidence. It was exactly how she’d found him, on her beach, the previous day.
“We’d better get you inside,” he said, stroking a finger down her petal-soft cheek before taking her back in his arms. “Before anyone sees you.”
He held her in such a way to protect her nudity from Eros’s observance. Not that he hadn’t already seen it all.
“Where’s inside,” she asked, once she regained her power to speak. “Where are we?”
“An island in the middle of nowhere,” Eros answered. “And if we don’t leave soon, Poseidon will send a storm to wipe us out.”
“Do you want to go back to your house?” Ares asked. “Or would you do me the honour of coming to Mount Olympus and becoming my consort?”
“Consort?” She wrinkled her nose.
“He means wife,” Eros interjected.
“You want to marry me?” Her voice lifted so that it sounded nearly angelic to Ares’ ears.
“Indeed. I wish to marry you. I wish to be with you, always.”
“And I want to go with you,” she said. “There’s nothing for me in New York. But — I promised my aunt Mae. I’m supposed to be watching her house.”
“Consider it done,” Eros said. “I’ve arranged for your cousin Candace to arrive for a surprise visit and stay with Mae awhile.”
“How did you arrange that? She’s married and living in New Jersey. Why would she just suddenly give everything up and go to Maine?”
“Her husband left her,” Eros said. “When he came home and found her in a compromising position on chatroulette.”
Eve laughed. “You don’t say.”
“I didn’t,” Ares said. “I didn’t say a word.”
Eve laughed harder. When Eve laughed, it was a lilting, lyrical sound that reminded him of cherubs singing. He could live with that laugh for eternity and consider it a blessing.
“I will marry you, Ares,” Eve said. “And I’m dying to see Mount Olympus!”
“Then let’s be off,” Ares said. “What are we waiting for?”