Innovation's Muse (Truth's Harem) Page 7

  Need thrummed under her skin. The sensation didn’t fade now that she was awake. She wanted a release, and while she could take care of things herself, it would be much more fun with a partner.

  She wandered downstairs, toward the light spilling from the living room. Actaeon sat in an easy chair, reading. Aphrodite, that was sexy.

  He looked up when she paused in the doorway. “Weird dream?” he asked.

  Can everyone see inside my head? She shook aside the question. Actaeon wasn’t in her head, and Icarus hadn’t been either. “You could say that. It was really...” Intense? Sexy? Fuck, she was horny.

  “Arousing?”

  That was putting things mildly. “Why would you say that?”

  “I can smell it on you.”

  She’d forgotten he had an enhanced sense of smell. It made him a hunter. She frowned, not sure what to do with his observation.

  “Don’t do that.” Actaeon’s smile was both reassuring and playful. “It’s a good thing.”

  “Really?” Her pulse hammered in her ears. They hadn’t had sex since that first time in the bar restroom, but it wasn’t off the table. Cerberus was okay with it. She grew wetter the longer Actaeon watched her.

  “I have the perfect solution,” he said.

  There was only one she could think of, and she suspected they were on the same page. “Do tell.”

  He crooked his finger and motioned. “Come here.”

  “Is that an order?”

  His smirk was hungry and added a new layer to the prickles of lust filling her. “It’s a strongly worded request.” His voice was low.

  She crossed the room, enjoying the way he watched her every step. When she was within reach, he grasped her fingers and pulled her the last few inches.

  Lexi straddled his lap, liking the rough texture of his slacks against the insides of her thighs.

  She expected the contact to chase the clouds from her head, the way touching Actaeon tended to do. Instead, as their auras mingled and danced, she plunged deeper into the lust that penetrated her thoughts.

  Actaeon dragged his fingers up her back, drawing her to him, and cupped the back of her neck. “I forgot how good it feels to have you this close.”

  “Me too.” She draped her arms over his shoulders and fell into the crush of his mouth against hers.

  The bond she shared with Cerberus was intimate, soothing, and nothing like this. Actaeon’s caress—his fingers digging into her scalp, his tongue sparring with hers—breathed life into her.

  When she pressed her chest to his, her shirt rubbed her skin, tantalizing every needy nerve ending. Their auras wound more tightly together the more their bodies tangled, until it was impossible to tell where her energy ended and his began. The way his ice sent heat spilling through her veins was disconcerting and alluring.

  He yanked her shirt off and lowered his head to her breast, to flick a tongue over her nipple, before drawing it into his mouth. He nipped the swollen bud hard enough to sting, and she gasped.

  “Good?” His lips vibrated against her skin.

  She pressed into his tongue. “Definitely good.”

  When Actaeon dragged his fingers up her spine, she arched closer to him. With each suck and lick, she worked her hips, grinding against his hard length.

  Lexi worked her way down the front of his shirt, undoing each button she encountered, then shoved it off his shoulders. Why had they only done this once? Every touch from him was a new high, thrumming inside.

  He moved back to claim her lips, kissing her hard and holding her captive. His grip was demanding, and she loved being needed this way.

  With each rock of her body, she pressed against the seam of his slacks. His erection nudged back through the thin cotton of her panties, digging into her clit. She felt like a teenager again, getting off on dry-humping.

  She rode the edge of climax, but this wouldn’t push her over.

  “Stop.” Actaeon gripped her hips. She gave him an exaggerated pout, and he kissed her bottom lip. “Not for long. I promise.” He nudged her back a few inches on his legs and undid his trousers.

  She reached between them before he could, to grip his shaft and work him free. The sharp breath he sucked in through his teeth was musical.

  He lifted her without any notable strain, to move her forward again.

  She shoved her panties aside, and he slid inside her. He stretched her out, but there was more to the feeling than that. She felt him as if every inch of them touched at once. It didn’t make sense when she put it to words, but the sensation was incredible.

  Actaeon caught her ear between his teeth. “Finger yourself.” His breath was hot against her cheek.

  Lexi stroked her clit. She groaned at the different points of contact. Orgasm sped up on her, speeding through her body and lighting up her senses.

  He pounded inside her hard and fast. His grunts grew louder when she came. Did he feel her release? Energy wrapped around them, binding and freeing and drawing out her climax.

  The edge didn’t fall away from her pleasure. She knew when he was close, not just by the sound, but also by the pulse under her skin. When he came, spilling inside her, she felt the heat. The charge in the air. His climax and desire, woven with hers.

  He kept up the frantic pace as ecstasy faded, and then slowed to a stop.

  Lexi let herself collapse against his chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “Holy fucking mother of Eros.”

  “Language.” His teasing was breathless.

  She laughed at the playful scolding. “Sorry.”

  “Mhmm.” He pressed his lips to her neck. “Better?”

  “Much.” Like this, she could almost pretend she didn’t remember the dream that brought her down here in the first place.

  ICARUS WAS JARRED FROM his dream by his muse’s rapid departure.

  Muse. Was she?

  The shared moment replayed in his mind, vivid and fresh, as if he’d lived it rather than fantasizing—Lexi’s scent, her warmth, the challenge in her eyes.

  She was inspirational.

  He was sitting in his workshop, where he’d fallen asleep. The biggest difference was now his erection pressed against his zipper, begging for attention.

  He rubbed his cock through his trousers, wishing it was dream-Lexi’s hand grasping him instead.

  “Pleasant dreams?” Morpheus’ voice came from behind, startling him.

  Icarus swallowed his surprise and spun on his stool. He should have known it was too good to be just his subconscious. “You’d know, I suppose. Why’d you send me the gift?”

  “It wasn’t me.” Morpheus shook his head. “I couldn’t see it. But you did do a lot of groaning.”

  Icarus wouldn’t focus on that last part. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to not see a dream.”

  “Neither did I.”

  That was as disconcerting as waking up to the god of sleep watching him. “Why are you here?”

  “For information. I was going to get it the normal way—”

  “Invading my dreams? That kind of normal?”

  “—but someone beat me to it.” Morpheus smirked.

  Icarus didn’t know how he’d kept Morpheus out of his head, but he was grateful to know the dream was his own. “What kind of information do you want?”

  “I want to know how you trapped Hades.”

  Lexi’s answer from earlier raced to the front of his thoughts, and he let it roll off his tongue. “Magic.”

  “Heh.” Morpheus’ chuckle was strained. “I’m looking for more specific details.”

  “Trade secret.” It was something Icarus wouldn’t share. Couldn’t. Especially now. Which was the reason he told Lexi no. And it made him doubly grateful Morpheus hadn’t been responsible for the dream.

  He didn’t dare think about the how of trapping Hades now. He was being paranoid, since he was awake, and Morpheus couldn’t see inside his head, but he couldn’t risk it. No one could know why Persephone had to be the ke
y last time.

  “I must know how to contain him.” Morpheus’ voice took on a hard edge.

  “You serve Hades. Trouble in the underworld?”

  Morpheus didn’t look amused. “Hades is building an army of the dead. Your friend George was one of thousands.”

  Icarus shook his head. It made too much sense. The call from beyond the grave, the sudden shift in George’s mood, what Esper saw—it was so ludicrous, it had to be a god’s plan.

  “He’ll destroy us all,” Morpheus said. “When there was balance, he was happy to let things ride. To let his brothers rule above, while he ruled below. When Zeus and Poseidon forced The Enlightenment, they destroyed the equilibrium.”

  “Fuck.”

  Morpheus tossed an SD card on the table, and it landed with a deceptively soft plunk. “He knows whom he’s gathering. If you don’t give me the information, give it to someone. Hades needs to be restrained,” he said and vanished.

  An army of the dead. It was so cliché. So contrived.

  Icarus picked up the plastic clamshell holding the thumbnail-sized card, and turned it over and over between his fingers. A pit grew in his chest, telling him once he watched what was on this, he couldn’t unwatch.

  He needed to know.

  He grabbed his phone from where it sat a few feet away, pulled the current card, and popped in the new one.

  Maybe someday he’d figure out how to read these damn things just by holding them between his fingers. The thought was enough to amuse and distract him, as he browsed his home-grown operating system, to the files Morpheus provided.

  For the next few hours, he tumbled into a pit of viral videos.

  A CEO caught on security cameras talking to no one, right before he crashed through a window he shouldn’t have been able to break and plummeted twenty stories to his death.

  A girl in a locker room—she looked like she was in her late teens—telling the empty air she’d record their conversation, so the world would know someone had back for her. Then she set her recording device on the ground, stepped into the showers, and slit her wrists.

  One video after another showed similar events—people talking to no one, before ending their lives. Usually in violent ways.

  Revulsion bubbled in Icarus’ chest, and he tossed the phone aside, not caring where it landed.

  Morpheus was right. This extended far beyond what Esper and George saw, and it needed to stop. Icarus needed to find Lexi again.

  Icarus should look forward to that, rather than dread the outcome if she was required to become the next key.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Actaeon needed an outlet for the adrenaline pulsing inside. He straightened the lapels of his suit jacket and felt like he was preparing for a fight, as he strolled up George’s front walk with Lexi and Cerberus.

  All three were dressed appropriately to the mourning. Lexi had passed on the dresses and gone with a pants suit instead. Like any nymph clothing, it contoured to fit perfectly when she tried it on, and she looked stunning.

  “Any particular reason you’re nervous?” Cerberus asked him. He wore a suit.

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “Wound tighter than a spring.”

  Actaeon wouldn’t push the argument. This was the wrong time to pick a fight. “Icarus and I had different ideologies when it came to dealing with The Enlightenment.”

  That, and a few hundred years ago, they went their separate ways as lovers for the last time. Actaeon knew it had been the right decision, but it left a kind of tension between him and Icarus that time hadn’t completely dulled.

  “Imagine that.” Lexi’s sarcasm was marred by its own chord of stress. “Is this where the fifty-fifty comes in?”

  Actaeon knocked on the solid walnut door. “Pretty much. It’s not as though it’s a grudge. Just a minor disagreement.”

  “I don’t want to know what kind of variance there is between your definition of that and mine,” Lexi said.

  The door swung open, and Esper greeted them. Grief made her look older than her early twenties. Red rimmed her eyes and heavy shadows hung underneath. She managed a weak smile when she saw Actaeon. “Uncle Ace.” She threw her arms around his neck with a sob.

  Her grief hurt him. She’d avoided so much pain by being here, but some things couldn’t be escaped. He returned the hug. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  “I imagine.” He let sympathy spill into his voice. “Esper, this is Lexi and Cerberus.” To them, he said, “Esper is George’s daughter.”

  Lexi gave her a kind smile. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose a parent.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.” Cerberus gave a brief nod. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  Esper stepped aside. “Thank you. Uncle Russ is in the sitting room, if you’d like to see him.”

  Actaeon kissed her on the cheek. “I would. I’m here if you need anything. Not just today, but at all.”

  “Thank you.” Esper ushered them into the house.

  Pockets of two and three people were scattered through the home, crowding the place. Actaeon was glad to see such a turnout to mourn George’s passing. Funerals might be for the living, but it was gratifying to see George had an impact on so many.

  “Uncle Ace and Uncle Russ?” Lex asked, at the same time Cerberus said, “Who is she?”

  Maybe Actaeon should have explained Esper before they got here. Where she came from wasn’t one of those things he thought about much these days.

  He spotted Icarus at the far end of the sitting room, speaking with an older woman in a tight-cut black dress, who leaned in close each time she said something.

  Icarus cast a bored gaze around the room. Rescuing him from the conversation offered Actaeon the perfect excuse to take his time coming up with better answers to Lexi and Cerberus’ questions.

  “I’ll re-introduce you,” Actaeon said, and cut a straight path to his old friend.

  Icarus met his gaze, then looked past him his eyes growing wide. He said something to the woman, squeezed her arm, and walked away before she could reply, to stop in front of Actaeon. “You know the brat.” There was only curiosity in his words.

  Actaeon bristled at the nickname for Lexi. “Intimately, and don’t call her that. Where do we stand?” He spoke quietly, not wanting to disrupt the mourners.

  “Are you still martyring yourself by refusing to take a side?” Icarus’s gaze kept drifting to Lexi.

  Actaeon was grateful for the subdued atmosphere. “Are you still selling your brain to the highest bidder, for the sake of discovery?”

  “No.” The corners of Icarus’ mouth tugged down. “Not since Hades.”

  “Same.” Actaeon’s tension was evaporating.

  Icarus clapped him in a brief hug. Centuries ago it might have meant more than a friendly hello. Not now. “Then we’re good. How do you know these two?”

  “Let’s get through the afternoon, and I’ll buy you a drink and explain.”

  “It's going to take more than one, but you’re on.”

  “This is surreal.” Lexi’s voice was low. “The two odd men out in the list of immortals, and you’re bros.”

  Bros. Right.

  Icarus’s dry laugh mirrored Actaeon’s thoughts.

  “We’d like to get started,” a man called from the front of the room.

  People filed into the folding chairs that had been set up facing a temporary podium surrounded by flower arrangements.

  There weren’t enough seats, so the funeral goers spilled into the hall and the next room. Actaeon and Icarus led Lexi and Cerberus to the back.

  “Don’t think I missed that you ignored my question,” Cerberus growled in Actaeon’s ear. “Who—what—is she?”

  Actaeon glanced at him. “Have some respect, pup—please. After we leave.”

  Lexi was quiet, taking a spot between Actaeon and Cerberus, and watching.

  Icarus stood behind them. �
�Don’t think I missed the ambush, either,” he murmured, head near Actaeon’s.

  “Don’t think anyone missed how much you appreciated the surprise,” Lexi said as she glanced over her shoulder.

  Actaeon shook his head, unsure of what to make of the exchange. This was going to be interesting.

  Esper stepped to the podium, to deliver her eulogy. Prometheus would be proud, if he had the sense to appreciate the girl. She kept a tentative grip on calm, as she spoke about her stepfathers with respect and adoration.

  When she lost her composure and started sobbing, Lexi squeezed Actaeon’s hand hard enough he felt the pressure in his knuckles. He glanced at her, to see unshed tears in her eyes and that she held onto Cerberus as well.

  He hadn’t considered the setting might be tough on her, despite not knowing the deceased. He hadn’t drawn the parallels between her life and Esper’s.

  A HEAVY WEIGHT PRESSED in on Lexi the moment they stepped into the house. It wasn’t all the people—she accepted the crowded nature of the world—it was what they carried with them.

  Grief and longing and regret clogged her pores and filled her lungs until she couldn’t breathe.

  She shoved the sensations aside while she talked to Icarus. Smiled through the introductions and the banter. Ignored the strange glow around the girl—Esper—that was unlike anything Lexi had ever seen. It wasn’t bright, but it was... fractured. Like broken glass, glinting in the light.

  But when Esper started speaking, the oppressive weight became whispers, and then shouts, in Lexi’s head.

  Sobs.

  Screams.

  Cries for another chance.

  For forgiveness.

  For vengeance.

  And when the girl at the podium broke into tears, Lexi felt the grief through every inch of her body, crushing her until she nearly passed out from the overload.

  “Are you all right?” Cerberus’ concern mingled with the cacophony. His touch was another set of emotions to deal with.

  She wavered on her feet, looking for something—anything—to ground her. Her fingers brushed Actaeon’s, and the fist around her lungs loosened. She gripped his hand for all she was worth, letting it tether her.