Innovation's Muse (Truth's Harem) Read online

  Innovation’s Muse

  Truth’s Harem Book 2

  Allyson Lindt

  This book is a work of fiction.

  While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Allyson Lindt

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Acelette Press

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Innovation's Muse (Truth's Harem)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Also By Allyson Lindt

  About the Author

  For my eternal dragon

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lexi thought she knew ambivalence. The events that had occurred in the labyrinth, in the underworld, and with Cerberus had turned her emotions into chopped salad.

  And none of that compared to what raged inside when Actaeon stepped between her and the woman who’d erased her mother from existence.

  A light breeze whipped around them, pushing Lexi’s hair in her face and kicking up the sand of the beach around them.

  Actaeon’s face was twisted in an expression that matched Lexi’s inner turmoil, but he’d stopped her from lunging at Cassandra.

  Not that Lexi would have. Probably not.

  “You would have.” Cerberus spoke in her head.

  She needed to practice which thoughts he heard and which she kept to herself. “Busted.”

  “What are you doing here?” Actaeon asked Cassandra.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know where here is, besides on a beach.”

  A stunning one, on a Greek island. A beach with an empty stretch of sand that led to an ocean of blue, blending into an orange sunset.

  All of it ruined by Cassandra.

  “Different question. How did you get here?” Actaeon’s voice was stern but not rude.

  Lexi hated that. She shouldn’t be jealous, but knowing that didn’t stop the envy that sliced through her. It didn’t matter that fate insisted she was meant for Actaeon, or that she’d felt an undeniable pull since the first time she met him. It had been less than a week since their first encounter, and he’d gone to the underworld and back for Cassandra.

  Not the second time. That time he did it for me. The thought should have soothed Lexi. It didn’t. She didn’t know Actaeon as well as she did Cerberus, but she felt something for him. A something that was rapidly diminishing the longer he took his ex-girlfriend’s side.

  Cassandra’s gaze never left Actaeon. Her expression was flat, but intensity burned in her dark eyes. “I’ve never been anywhere else,” she said. “Or rather, this place, about two minutes before I heard all of you talking, is the only thing I remember. I didn’t really kill anyone, did I?”

  You destroyed Persephone’s soul. Became Hades vessel because you couldn’t have the man you love. And now you have the nerve to show up here, in said man’s backyard, and pretend none of that ever happened?

  Lexi didn’t say any of it, because above all else, Cassandra looked sincere. Honest. Like she believed the bullshit coming out of her own mouth. And she did. Something for Lexi to dislike about her ability to see when people were lying—it told her this woman wasn’t.

  That didn’t mean Lexi wanted to listen to her anymore. She stood and brushed the sand from her jeans. “I’ll be inside. Enjoy your conversation.”

  Yeah, okay, Actaeon didn’t technically owe Lexi anything. He’d stuck by her with no obligation, never requesting anything in return—that alone was the opposite of her encounters with other immortals.

  And then he’d invited her and Cerberus to live in his house. Still without a request for remuneration. She didn’t want to play the angsty teenager, but she’d thought when he talked about them discovering what their future held, he was speaking romantically. Not just about her being a warm spot in his bed until the next trauma-ridden individual came along.

  “Lex.” Actaeon’s call hit her back. He didn’t chase her, though.

  It would have hurt more if Cerberus didn’t stay by her side.

  “Unless you’re only doing it because you have to,” she thought.

  “I don’t have to do anything you don’t command me to.” Cerberus jogged forward a few steps, to slide the back door open for her. “I don’t want to see her any more than you do. She locked me in a binding circle. She destroyed my queen,” he said aloud.

  Lexi leaned against a nearby wall and let her head thunk against the plaster. “Have you ever seen this before?”

  “Someone come back from the dead, wind up at their ex’s house, and not have a single memory of their past? No. And If I haven’t seen something when it comes to death, it doesn’t happen.”

  Because only her birth father, Hades, knew more about the topic than Cerberus—the hellhound shifter who had guarded the gates of underworld for millennia.

  Lexi scrubbed her face. “Why isn’t that reassuring?”

  Her entire life she’d been told the gods were here to be worshiped. That they’d earned the people’s love and adoration.

  She knew better. Her stepfather—the man she called Dad—taught her the gods were petty and loathsome. Meant to be feared and avoided at all costs, lest their egos destroy her.

  Then she tumbled headfirst into their world. Falling for a servant, falling for a hero, unsure whether she should hide from the gods or cooperate with them.

  The back door slid open and shut again, and she knew without looking that Actaeon and Cassandra had joined them. Actaeon radiated a silver aura that encased Lexi in ice and comfort whenever he was around.

  Right now, she resented that soothing feeling as much as she did the rest of the situation. She kicked away from the wall, never turning in their direction.

  “Lexi,” Actaeon said. “Hear me out.”

  She wanted to say no, but it was his home. She looked at him. “What?”

  “She told me I’d see her again. Her returning to earth was always a possibility.” Actaeon spoke softly, as if reminding himself more than telling them. “That she’d die, and I’d come for her, but that she couldn’t see beyond that.”

  Cassandra stood next to him, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Her silence made her even more infuriating. If she were the insane woman Lexi had encountered in the underworld, Lexi wouldn’t be questioning if her hate was justified.

  “Your point is?” Cerberus’ irritation crackled
under Lexi’s skin, tightening in her neck and back.

  “If she really doesn’t know who she is—”

  “Excuse me. If?” Cassandra cut Actaeon off. “Whoever you think I am, I’m sorry this woman has all of you so worked up, but that’s not me.”

  Actaeon shrugged. “That’s my point. Am I supposed to turn my back and tell her to go to the next house?”

  “What would you do instead? Let her stay here?” The edge in Cerberus’ voice hinted at his opinion on the matter.

  Actaeon raised an eyebrow and squared his shoulders at the implied threat of don’t you dare. “I’m thinking about it.”

  The words cut Lexi deep. She didn’t care about Actaeon because fate said they’d fall in love. Fuck fate. But she liked him. Enjoyed his company.

  Or was she just grateful to him for rescuing her?

  This situation was more surreal than stepping through a gate created by a siren, into a separate plane of existence, to walk through a maze that only existed in people’s heads. That was something Lexi had been raised to expect.

  Sitting in the middle of an open floor plan, on marble that gleamed despite the fact that Actaeon probably hadn’t been home in months—years?—in a multi-million-dollar home, on a private island in Greece? Nothing in her lifetime had prepared her for this.

  Oh, and the whole psycho bitch who killed her mother returning from the dead thing was a bit overwhelming too.

  “If you’re that concerned about her welfare, you could give her hotel money.” Cerberus had been so kind and understanding about Lexi’s complicated potential relationships. He wanted her to be happy. To explore. And to be by his side at the same time. A spiteful part of her was grateful he didn’t have the same generosity when it came to Cassandra. “We all remember she killed Persephone and willingly freed Hades, don’t we?” he said.

  Cassandra held up her hands. “I did what? Hades is dead. That’s what they teach in school, right?”

  That was another thing bothering Lexi, though she hadn’t been able to put her finger on it. Cassandra seemed to have the knowledge she needed to live in this world—a solid understanding of current history and slang—but she didn’t know her own past?

  Actaeon looked at Lexi. “What do you think?”

  She didn’t care for being asked to break a tie. Especially not one like this. “She murdered my mother.”

  Cerberus was smug. She felt it flowing through the new bond they shared. The one created when he became her servant, sworn to serve only her—to do what she wished, when she commanded it. A connection only gods were supposed to be able to form but that Lexi had managed without realizing it.

  Actaeon clenched his jaw. “She doesn’t remember doing that.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’ll never remember. Lexi had a siren put a block on her memory, and it came back,” Cerberus straightened up, making it obvious he was taller and broader shouldered than Actaeon.

  “And what if Cassandra’s doesn’t?” Actaeon’s aura surged brighter. “You’re going to punish her for something she hasn’t done?”

  “Punish her? By making her live a life similar to what I’ve done for the last four decades?” Lexi was tired of the posturing. Did Actaeon hear himself? “And she’s done plenty already. She killed Persephone. Because she was a jealous you didn’t love her anymore. Her crimes don’t vanish because she can’t remember them.”

  “If I put her in a hotel and walk away, and someone comes looking for her, she’s defenseless without her past.” Actaeon stepped closer. It was a subtle shift, but it placed him between Cerberus and Cassandra.

  Lexi’s fury surged, smothering her hurt. She clenched her jaw at the protective stance.

  “If she’s really her, she should see it coming.” Cerberus was as much poking at Actaeon as amusing himself at this point.

  “I miss you.” The words echoed in Lexi’s skull.

  “What?” She looked at Cerberus.

  “What, what?”

  “I don’t have to.”

  The voice wasn’t his, but it was definitely in her head. “Is that you?” She knew better but didn’t have another answer.

  Cerberus frowned. “Is what me?”

  She listened. Nothing. “Hello?” she asked, tentatively.

  “Hi.” Cerberus’s reply was audible. “What’s going on?”

  She furrowed her brow and turned her thoughts inward. Whatever she’d heard was silent now. Or she’d imagined it. “Nothing. I think our mystery guest’s insanity is contagious.”

  Cerberus tugged Lexi close and wrapped his arms around her. It pulled her away from Actaeon at the same time. “I can’t imagine why the situation might be upsetting you.” Sarcasm dripped form his words

  Lexi rested her head against his shoulder. Despite the fact that both men had said they were okay with Lexi being involved with them at the same time, there was a petty part of her that wanted Actaeon to be jealous. To feel even a hint of what Lexi was experiencing.

  Actaeon’s expression was stone, but his aura flickered.

  Finally, a reaction directed toward Lexi.

  “I miss you.”

  The phrase sent a chill down her spine, and she closed her eyes, willing the odd voice away.

  ACTAEON HAD INVITED Lexi and Cerberus to stay here because he wanted them to make it their home. The idea of sharing this place was foreign but comforting. The thought of getting to know Lexi better—seeing if this was more than a passing infatuation—sang to him.

  Now he was half a breath from reminding them this was his house, and refusing to throw Cassandra out on the street. He believed her memory was gone, but it was her. Her scent. The way she held herself...

  He wasn’t defending Cassandra because he wanted her back, or because he felt she should be forgiven for her crimes. Actaeon was responsible for driving her to this, and in this state, she was helpless.

  Then Lexi started talking in sentence fragments. And the air changed.

  The weight pressed in on Actaeon, and the scent of sunshine filled his nostrils. He knew who was at the door before he heard the knock.

  This was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight. Fuck, his uncle was high on his list of gods he never wanted to deal with, and that was a difficult list to top.

  Before he could stop Cassandra, she answered the door.

  Irritation surged through Actaeon at her presumption. He met Apollo’s gaze, said, “Nope,” and slammed the door shut.

  “How does anyone know we’re here?” Lexi sounded frustrated.

  “Zeus sent us. Who knows whom he told?” Actaeon looped his thumb under the leather cord that hung around his neck, to expose a black stone. “Plus, the magic on this broke during the fight with Hades.” The piece of onyx had been imbued with siren magic that kept Actaeon’s true self masked behind an illusion.

  He didn’t plan on getting it replaced. He was no longer willing to pay the siren’s price. But that meant he was the aural equivalent of a homing beacon now. Every god and servant could find him without much effort. Which made him like any other powerful hero.

  Apollo hammered on the door. “Two minutes,” he shouted. “My knocking is only a courtesy.”

  Actaeon rolled his eyes and opened the door again.

  “My favorite nephew.” Apollo’s greeting lacked sincerity.

  “Only,” Actaeon corrected him.

  “And yet you make it such a difficult choice.”

  Splendid. First Cassandra-blank, and now this. “What do you want?”

  “I heard you have a guest.” Apollo was using his power to make himself look more imposing. It was a neat trick for someone who was less two meters tall and with a wiry build. His loose clothing, meant to let in the sun, exaggerated his thin frame.

  Actaeon gestured at Lexi. “Apollo, Lexi. Lexi, my mother’s asshole brother.”

  “Right. The brat.” Apollo didn’t sound impressed.

  Cerberus growled and stepped forward, but Actaeon was faster and looking for an
outlet for his frustration.

  Actaeon summoned a hunting dagger without effort, and pressed the tip to Apollo’s throat. Actaeon could kill a weaker god without breaking a sweat. Apollo didn’t meet that definition, but he’d suffer a bit. “It’s been a long week, and I don’t usually need an excuse. Why. Are you. Here?”

  Apollo held up his hands. “Cassandra. That’s the guest I meant.”

  “Me?” She stepped forward. “Do I know you? Or rather, do you know me? Because these people don’t seem to like me very much.”

  “They don’t like anyone.” Apollo smoothed out his baggy tank top when Actaeon stepped away. “And yes, I know you. I felt you the moment you returned to this plane. Don’t you recognize me?”

  “I don’t remember anything.” Cassandra shook her head.

  Apollo looked at Actaeon. “Are you keeping her for a reason?”

  “Haven’t decided yet.” Which wasn’t quite true. It was a question of convincing Lexi to agree with his decision.

  Apollo stepped around him and reached a hand toward Cassandra. “You can stay with me.”

  “Just like that?” Cassandra seemed to be taking all of this in stride. No protests. A handful of questions. She was the most even-keel amnesiac ever.

  One more thing to set Actaeon’s teeth on edge. The Cassandra he’d known was energetic and passionate. This woman was very much a blank slate.

  “I owe you,” Apollo said to Cassandra.

  Actaeon shook his head. “This is a bad idea.”

  “I’m talking to her, not you.”

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Lexi’s shout startled him.

  He whirled to see her drop to her knees on the tile, cradling her head in her hands.

  Cerberus knelt next to her. “Talk to me out loud. Don’t stay in your head.”

  “It won’t stop.” She sounded as though it took immense effort to breathe. “He’s in my thoughts. He keeps saying he misses me.”

  “Who?” Actaeon’s concern spiked.

  “I don’t know.” She clenched her fists in her hair and tugged. “It’s so loud. I need it to stop.”

  “Look at me.” Cerberus placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face.