Apathy's Hero: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (Truth's Harem Book 3) Page 7

He fisted his cock and slid inside her. His groan mingled with hers. Fuck, she felt good, wrapped around him, tight and slick.

  She fell into orgasm as he thrust, gripping his shaft and milking him.

  He gripped her thigh with his free hand. He didn’t have any restraint left. The need that had been building inside tightened in his balls, and he came hard, filling Lexi, pounding against her until they were both spent.

  This was all perfect—the noises she made, the scent of sex, and the hint of perspiration that greeted him when he licked up her spine.

  There were only a handful of moments in his life that lingered in his thoughts centuries after the fact. Those wonderful, incredible instances that filled him with joy that defied words. This was one of those.

  It was both too bad and a good thing that they had to go back to the real world soon. He could see himself getting lost in a life like this.

  LEXI LEANED INTO HIM with a sigh, and pulled his arms and the towel tighter around herself. “We should get dressed. Our quest awaits.”

  “Are you going to tell me what we’re questing for?”

  “The others,” she said, as if it should be obvious. “Clothes, by the way.” She gestured to one stack on the bed and grabbed the other. Those hadn’t been there before. Neat trick.

  He pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt, that was some of the softest cotton he’d ever worn, boxers a lot like the ones he’d discarded, and a pair of stiff jeans.

  “Why’d you skip the videogame getup?” he asked.

  Her outfit was similar to his. It fit well, was simple and attractive, and could probably be purchased at any generic store in any country in the world. Their socks were nondescript, and a pair of ankle-high hiking boots waited for him on the floor.

  She finished dressing. “The pirate bar-wench look is fun, but we might need something more practical.”

  He hoped not. His plan was to lead her back to Styx, and fill in the missing pieces for her along the way. In a couple of hours, Charon would take them back to the other side, and this would be over.

  “What else do we need to bring?” she asked.

  Actaeon looked them over. “We have comfortable clothes and walking shoes. We’re set.” She’d put more thought into the stroll than he tended to when he went out for a walk.

  “We can’t be. In the books, they always have hard cheese and bread. Flasks of water or wine. What kind of things do you bring with you?”

  What sort of answer was she looking for?

  “I can’t draw a lot of parallels between my life and fantasy novels,” he said.

  “Have you read many?”

  He stalled. His answer would contradict what he just said.

  “Well?” She studied him expectantly. “I’m guessing no. Because they’re too much like real life for you.”

  Sort of. “Except that in real life, the hero doesn’t always win.”

  “That’s the fun of the books. At least in those, you’re guaranteed to slay the beast.” She slung a backpack over her shoulder.

  He had no idea where it came from. It was battered and dark green, with dozens of pockets, like an old Army backpack.

  “Honestly? I don’t prep for much of anything. You saw me when we were looking for a way to get to Hades. I took whatever I had on me. If it fits in my pockets, it comes with me. The rest either presents itself along the way, or it doesn’t. Then again, I’ve never taken a months-long trek through the mountains, to drop a ring in a volcano.” Ha, he did know one of those references.

  “So you have read some fantasy.”

  “I watched the movies.”

  Lexi swatted his arm playfully. “Blasphemy.”

  This was fun. He was pretty sure quests—trials, whatever—weren’t supposed to be fun. “This is your show. What do you think we need?”

  “Food. Water. Weapons.” She ticked off the list items on her fingers.

  He held out his hand, and a dagger appeared in it. “We have weapons. We summon them out of midair. And you said you have a... blade of plus-ten cool stuff?”

  She blew a puff of air at her hair. “Plus one dagger of strength. I’ll have Bob put something together for us. Supplies that will travel.”

  They headed downstairs. Actaeon needed to give her the full story about what was going on. He wasn’t sure how she’d handle it, so he was hesitating.

  But besides the way she treated parts of this like a game or a book, she was coping just fine. She was more carefree than usual. She acted younger. A decade or two shouldn’t make a difference, but there was a bigger gap between thirty and forty than there was between three-thousand and three-thousand ten.

  The downstairs was mostly empty, but Bob was behind the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee. From a Mr. Coffee machine.

  “Where does the electricity come from?” Actaeon asked.

  “The power socket in the wall.” Lexi stood on a metal rail that ran along the bottom of the counter, bent at the waist, and reached behind the bar.

  Good view.

  She straightened and held two travel coffee-mugs. Stainless steel. She handed the mugs to Bob. “Pretty please?”

  “Sure.” He turned away to fill them.

  Lexi looked at Actaeon. “Yes, I know electricity doesn’t come from a magical place that lights things up because I plug them in. The entire building is wired. I’m not sure about the source... But I like my coffee strong-but-not-burnt, and the bread is a lot easier to bake in an electric oven. We only had wood burning for the first couple of weeks, and I couldn’t figure out how to cook the food evenly.”

  Actaeon was only out for a few minutes after they killed Hades. Or so his fresh wounds had implied when he woke up. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

  “Don’t know. A couple of months? The sun didn’t really rise or set when I first showed up. That made it hard to keep track.”

  Time passed differently on different planes of existence, so there was no telling how long they’d been here, relative to an earth clock. And he was someplace else before this.

  Bob handed them each a travel mug full of coffee, and nodded to a carafe of milk with a sugar bowl next to it. “Prep it the way you’d like.”

  “Can you do something else for me?” Lexi asked sweetly.

  Bob gave her a huge grin. “Of course, love.”

  “We need questing food.”

  Bob furrowed his brow. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  Actaeon was glad he wasn’t the only one confused by all of this.

  “You know—like cheese, bread, fruit, and nuts. Stuff that’s good for traveling. Dried fruit, probably. I don’t want to squish it.”

  Why don’t you just summon it out of mid-air? The question died in Actaeon’s throat. If she enjoyed doing things this way, he didn’t see the harm in it.

  Bob seemed to consider her request. “I can throw together something like trail mix. Fill some canteens with water. Or booze. Give you a tin with ground coffee in it...”

  “That’ll work perfectly.” Lexi dropped on a stool and poured milk in her coffee.

  While Bob fetched their questing food, she sipped her drink.

  Actaeon sorted through his thoughts for the best place to start the reality part of this conversation.

  Bob returned a few minutes later and set Lexi’s backpack in front of her.

  “Bob, tell me something,” Actaeon said.

  The bartender looked at him. “Sure.”

  “What did you do before you came here?” If these people had wandered into the town, they were displaced dead. Actaeon was curious about how out of place they were.

  “I was a bartender at Kings of Hustler.”

  “The male strip-club in Las Vegas?” Actaeon hadn’t expected that.

  Lexi looked at him, mouth twisted. “You know that, but you can’t remember if you’ve ever been to the best fucking sandwich shop in New Orleans?”

  It did sound a little suspicious. Actaeon shrugged. “Some be
ef is more memorable. Besides, I haven’t visited as many strip clubs as I have delis.” He preferred a hands-on experience, and typically didn’t have an issue finding a willing partner.

  There was one he’d surrendered the opportunity with, and he was a little jealous Lexi had that with Icarus, when Actaeon no longer did.

  “This place is epic, compared to that Hustler.” Bob’s comment rooted Actaeon back in the now. “Do you know how many women expected Tom Cruise Cocktail moves from me?”

  “Who what now?” Lexi looked confused.

  Tom Cruise? “When did you work there?” Actaeon asked.

  “As in, the year? Late eighties.”

  “Nineteen Eighties?” Lexi might as well be asking if he was from the middle ages, for the disbelief in her voice.

  Actaeon bit back a comment about post-enlightenment immortals. “How long were you wandering after you died and before you wound up here?”

  “I wasn’t,” Bob said. “I died. I woke up. There was this bar. Thirty seconds? A year? Beats me.”

  Lexi covered his hand. “I’m glad you found it. You’re awesome. And I’m sorry to cut the reminiscing short, but we need to get going. I don’t know how far we have to travel, and we want to cover as much distance as we can while it’s still light.”

  Odd statement, for someone who controlled the sun rising and setting on this plane.

  “Sure.” Bob pulled a book from under the bar and flipped to a bookmarked page. “I’m to the good part, anyway. Good luck.” He looked at Actaeon. “Bring her back safe.”

  “Always.” The assurance came easily.

  Was it a promise he could keep this time?

  They were walking a few miles to the shore of the river. How hard could it be?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Cerberus rocked Lexi in his arms, muttering, “Please wake up,” over and over, as the edges of the reality disintegrated.

  Her eyelids fluttered, and she groaned softly. The world swam back into view, but they weren’t in the same place anymore. This was a suburban street, lined with rundown houses that had overgrown yards.

  She looked up at him. “Are you all right?” Her question was sweet and concerned.

  “I was worried about you.”

  Her clothing had changed again, too. Her jeans were worn in several spots, she didn’t have socks, and her shoes looked as though her force of will was the only thing holding them together. Her T-shirt was dingy white, with scraps of red silkscreen print that had faded beyond recognition. “Why would you worry about me? You don’t know me. You say you do, but there’s no way you could.”

  “I do know you. I love you intently and dearly and completely. I’ve given my life for you, and I would again.” He shouldn’t have said so much, but he hated picking and choosing his words.

  The corners of her mouth pulled up. “I should be really creeped out by that.”

  “You’re not?”

  “Can we go someplace less public?” She extracted herself from his arms and stood.

  He joined her. “You name it, and we’ll go.”

  She took a step, wobbled, and let out a faint, Ow. She bent at the waist and rubbed her ankle, before straightening again. “This way.”

  She led him down a few blocks, to a two-story house that had probably been pink at one point.

  “What happened with Poseidon, Zeus, and Artemis?” Cerberus asked.

  Lexi furrowed her brow and confusion drifted around her. “Is that a general question? It’s a shitty conversation starter.”

  The scream she’d let out when Clio died echoed in Cerberus’ ears. Even a few years later, it would still affect Lexi. “The day Zeus announced mandatory registration. When... Clio died.” He winced on the last words.

  Lexi stared at him blankly. “Who?”

  “Your best friend, Clio?”

  She gave a dry chuckle. “I think you’ve confused me with someone else. I don’t really trust enough people to make friends.” They picked their way through weeds, along a broken concrete path, and up a crumbling porch. She paused at the door, hand on the knob. “If we don’t fuck with anyone else in here, they won’t fuck with us.”

  He nodded and followed her in. Was Clio an erased memory? But Zeus saw him. How was that possible?

  Lexi didn’t have the same lilt to her walk that she had before the amphitheater—if that had even been real—but now she walked with her shoulders hunched, and her gaze darting around her every few seconds.

  This must be a later-in-life memory, but how much later? And what was the significance of this one?

  They made their way up a staircase. She stepped cautiously in certain spots, and he followed her example. It was unlikely he’d make any noise. He didn’t want to risk it, though.

  They stopped in front of the last door at the end of the hallway. The entire building reeked, but he couldn’t identify the smells beyond rotting things and bodily fluids.

  The room they entered was clean. A black sheet was draped over the window, and a charcoal gray comforter covered a mattress on the floor. She gestured to a box in the corner that held food. “Do you want a granola bar or anything?”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine. There’s no lock on the door. Aren’t you worried about people stealing your stuff?”

  “If they need it, they can have it. As long as they don’t piss on my mattress. Guy downstairs did that. He’s not here anymore.”

  Cerberus had so many questions. One of the bigger ones, he hesitated to ask. He needed to know, though. “Why don’t you live in your stepfather’s place?”

  Sadness whispered across her face before vanishing. “The gods found him. The house was a sacrifice spot. It was only a matter of time before they would have realized I was there. I haven’t been back in three years.”

  That gave him some idea of where they were in time.

  Lexi sat on the mattress. She rubbed her ankle, her forehead creasing, then patted the spot next to her. “I’m sorry I don’t have better seating.”

  “This is fine.” The one thing that was wrong with it wasn’t her fault. He hated that she’d lived through this. That it didn’t faze her. If he’d found her a couple of decades earlier...

  He might not have been strong enough to turn Hades down, when he was ordered to kill Lexi. He might not have had the ability to help her out of this. If that was Actaeon in the deli, the hero had been in no shape to help—

  “Who’s Icarus?” Lexi asked. “Rather, I know who he is on paper. Guy with the wings from legends, who died when he flew too close to the sun.”

  “He faked his death. Daddy issues, I think.”

  Her laugh was dry, but there was no bitterness in it. “I should be surprised he’s alive. I’m not. The history books say Hades is dead too, but dead men don’t have daughters, do they?”

  “Not last time I checked.” Cerberus wouldn’t ask if she was referring to herself. He knew the answer and didn’t want to spook her. “Why did you ask about Icarus?”

  “You obviously know me. A version of me? I don’t understand that bit. Do you have a TARDIS?”

  “No, but Icarus has something a lot like one, minus the time travel.”

  Lexi massaged her leg again. “You’re yanking my chain, but I like it. So do I know Icarus the way I know you?”

  It was a far more loaded question than she probably realized. What was that pre-enlightenment phrase? She knew them both biblically? He doubted her stepfather taught her that reference. “You do. Why?”

  “I dreamed about him. We were fighting a chimera.”

  Was she talking about what happened in the apartments near Icarus’ shop? Were her memories bleeding together? And if so, was there an answer in that to why Cerberus was here?

  Her hand went to her ankle again, and Cerberus grasped her wrist. The contact jolted through him, and she gasped. She looked at him, eyes wide.

  “It’s a quest.” Her voice was in his head. “We have to find the others.”

  “What?” he aske
d.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  Of course she didn’t, because he wasn’t bonded to this Lexi.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He let go. “Why do you keep reaching for your ankle?”

  “It hurts. In my dream, we were standing in this barren field—me and Icarus. We knew each other. He was trying to protect me, but the chimera bit me.”

  That wasn’t the fight Cerberus was part of. He lifted the hem of her jeans. An ugly red mark ringed with teeth glared back. It was healing, but not well. “What happened next?” he asked.

  “I woke up in your arms.”

  Cerberus had pieces to this puzzle, but he didn’t know how they fit. He was missing far too many to make a whole picture. There were gaps in his observations, and what little information he had was based on assumption.

  “Do you want to see a magic trick?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  She took his hand and held it out, palm down. He braced himself for another rush. Heat flowed between them, carrying desire, but it was faded. A memory, like this Lexi.

  She traced her fingers in the air above his arm, and an intricate design began to appear on his skin. It was a dragon. The jaws were open along the patch of skin between his thumb and finger, and the tail wrapped around his forearm, ending just below the elbow.

  “Wow.” He studied the detail and bright colors.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s stunning.” He wiggled his fingers, and the illusion faded. “Incredible.” Was this something she’d done to someone else, at this point in her past? Had she been experimenting on herself?

  Laughter, loud and jarring, drifted in from the hallway.

  “Ignore them,” Lexi said. “They’re not here for me. Do you want to see something else?”

  He’d seen her illusions before. They were so much stronger in his present. Tangible when she wanted them to be. But he needed to see where this memory went. Why she was stuck at this point.

  It had to be significant. Seeing Actaeon in the deli was. Her father’s death certainly had been.

  He nodded. “I’d love to.”

  She held her hand up, and a knife appeared a few feet above it, floating in midair. This wasn’t like the weapons of Actaeon’s that she liked to imitate. He leaned closer. It was... “Klingon?”