Island Tango (Silver Goddess Series, Book One) (12 page)

“I feel so stupid.  I should have just come here to do our assignment instead of letting that charlatan manipulate me.”
Herculea hung her head.

“
You are most certainly not stupid, Dr. Sanchez
.  An obstacle has been placed in your path.  That is all.  I know how much you want to write y
our book, and I know you will.”

K
ent’s
reassurance
did wonders to lift the burden of guilt from Herculea’s heart.  Now, she was the one to reach across the table to touch him.  Sliding her hand over his wrist, she caressed his arm and smiled warmly.  Kent stared at her hand as she touched him.  Even from Herculea’s lightest touch, he could feel the electricity sizzle inside of him, and it drove him
insane
wondering if she felt the same way.

Chapter 8

Perched on the edge of her sterling throne, fanning herself restlessly, the Silver Goddess
felt
agitated.  Thaddeus had taken off again on an herb-seeking excursion.  The bonehead was so incompetent that he probably wouldn’t make it back for hours, she stewed. The manservants were behaving lazily on this broiling summer day, and the Goddess was left to her own devices.  But it wasn’t the ridiculous men in her life bothering her today.  No, it was something in her own milieu, something very odd indeed.

Since the last phase of the moon, there had been a shift on the Island of Vinova.  The moon looked more slender than it should in waxing crescent, and the shoreline had widened.  These natural phenomena only occurred when someone had chosen to imbibe the wine and claim immortality.  But, to the Goddess’s knowledge, no one on the island could have done so.  Everyone who lived there was already immortal, for better or for worse.

Who, then, could be responsible for the moon’s irregularity and the sand sweeping away from the water’s edge as though in pre
paration to welcome someone new?
 
Like a jagged bolt of lightning, a
terrible revelation struck the Silver Goddess: somehow, somewhere in the world, a person had entered the Immortality Abyss.  The Silver Goddess comfortably kept track of every member of her deathless entourage.  But Pedro was a wild card.  Since she had banished him, he was no longer under her manipulation.  He was free to roam the world and, worst of all, he had stolen
her precious book
before he left.

“But why now?!” She seethed.  “Why now?  I banished that fool nearly a century ago.  In all these years, no one from the outside has become immortal.  Why did this happen now?  And who is it?”

Intuitively, the Silver Goddess knew that Pedro had finally fallen in love again.  That would be the only explanation for him to cajole someone into immortality. 
Cajole---or force?  A fresh horror swept over her.
If this newly immortal woman
---this Stolen Mortal---
were to come anywhere near the Island of Vinova, the Silve
r Goddess’s powers would be weaken
ed and, ultimately, susceptible to destruction. 
Unless, of course, the Stolen Mortal decided to renounce her immortality and swallow the antidote.  Then, the Silver Goddess would
retain her power
,
whereas Pedro would
be transformed into an old man.

“Damn it!” The Goddess screamed, stomping her high heel repeatedly onto the floor before ripping the shoe from her foot and hurling it across the room.

“Ouch!” The pitiful sound was followed by a sulky glare from Thaddeus.  “What on earth are you doing?  You could have poked my eye out!”

“Lucky for you it landed on your forehead.” She
shrugged her
delicate shoulders nonchalantly.

“But why did you throw it at me?” Thaddeus demanded, massaging his temples.

“I didn’t throw it at you,
fool
.  I didn’t even know you were there.” She glanced at his hands, frowning to note that they were empty.

Thaddeus raised a hand in front of him to prevent her from speaking.  She raised a disdainful arched eyebrow at him, but remained silent.

“I didn’t feel like fetching your herbs
like a dog
for you today.
  I’m tired.  I need to relax.”
He continued to rub the red welt on his forehead as he spoke.  “Besides, you still have some spices from my last game of Go Fetch.”

The Goddess shook her head disgustedly.  “You know I like to stock up.  The spices will be gone soon enough.  If I run out, I would advise you to make yourself scarce and sleep on the south end of the island until you get me some more.”

“Speaking of the south end, I think I shall go there now.  It is more peaceful over there.” Thaddeus turned and began to walk out of the throne room.

Sleeker than a fox, the Silver Goddess glided off her throne and blockaded the exit.  Placing one hand on her hip and another on Thaddeus’s chest,
she
gave him a look of amusement.

“You may go to the south end.  I won’t miss you tonight.  But for now, I would like you to accompany me to my chamber.  Sing me a little lullaby before bed.” She winked at him playfully, although the expression on her haughty face was pure poison.

“I am not in the mood.” Thaddeus muttered coldly, determined not to be manipulated by her again.

“In the mood for what?” She asked sardonically.  “To sing me a lullaby?  OK, then tell me a bedtime story.  Make it one of your Greek myths.”

“Stop being facetious.   I know what you want, and I am not delivering tonight.  I am going to the south end right now.”

Ferocious laughter bubbled in the Silver Goddess’s throat.  It was quaint how Thaddeus thought that he could be in control even for one evening.

Pinpointing his greatest weakness, she sighed and announced, “Very well.  Since you are not a man, I shall find another.  Hmmm, which manservant shall it be tonight?  The one who did such a good job cleaning up my wine goblet in the bath
chamber
? Or…”

Thaddeus cut her off and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her violently.  “That’s enough!  You will call on no other man.  I will show you how much of a man I am, right here.”

Thaddeus pressed up against her thigh, boldly revealing his hardness as she breathed in satisfaction.
 
She began to disrobe, slipping gracefully out of her gown until it was a silver pool of silk around her ankles.

“Right here.” She repeated sweetly, watching indulgently as Thaddeus tore off his own clothing in a storm of haste.

Jealousy was truly his downfall, she thought gleefully.  He could not bear the thought of another man touching her body and giving her pleasure.  She moaned ecstatically as Thaddeus took her with one masterful stroke.

“
Ah sim, sim, sim
!” She screamed
in Portuguese
, hoping a manservant would hear her and pass by to watch.

Thaddeus’s movements became more frenetic, and the Goddess moaned in protest, desperate to slow him down.
 
In one devastating motion, she retracted her hips, as his manhood slipped out of her and he growled in frustration.  Immediately, he penetrated her again
, but this time moved slowly, and
she moaned with every stroke.

“Yes, like that.” She purred triumphantly.

Spying a sweating manservant out of the corner of her eye, the Silver Goddess became more theatrical and shoved her breasts into Thaddeus’s face as he assaulted them hungrily with his mouth.

Oblivious to the pair of avid eyes hawking them from down the corridor, Thaddeus mindlessly sought out his own pleasure.  In a vice grip he held her hips as she moaned more loudly.

Thaddeus’s mouth returned to her breasts as he muttered, “These are like globes of candy.”

The Silver Goddes
s answered with a lusty giggle. 
Suddenly, from down the hall, a thud startled them both.  Thaddeus whipped his head around to see the manservant
clumsily fall
back against the wall.

Throwing a deadly glare at the salivating manservant, Thaddeus focused his attention on the luscious woman in his arms
. 
With a loud grunt, Thaddeus lifted her hips higher and shoved himself deeper inside her, finally
reaching his satisfaction
.  The pleasure and release were so intense that for a moment his vision went blurry.  The Goddess took her own gratification with him and screamed in triumph as the sweating man collapsed against her.

Quickly regaining his composure and refusing to linger in the wicked woman’s clutches, Thaddeus pulled his clothes back on and ran down the hallway without saying a word.  The Silver Goddess was too sated at the moment to care.

L
eaving her silver gown in a heap on the floor, she strolled naked to her bedchamber.  As she walked, she could hear the shouts of Thaddeus and the manservant.  Hearing the clink of metal, the Goddess knew that they could be dueling, but she was not worried.  Thaddeus was nothing but a hot air balloon.  Just as he threatened to leave her, he also threatened the lives of the manservants when he felt jealous.  But the manservants knew their place on the island and generally retreated.  It was all so perfectly organized under her control.

Reaching her bedchamber, she glanced out the window at the oddly shaped moon and shot it a warning look. 
Not even Mother Nature herself c
ould take away what the Silver
Goddess had procured for herself.  Her lifestyle was meant to last an eternity, and she would ensure that it would.  Pedro could not vanquish her, nor could his new lover, damn it.

*****

The cottage was perched on a grassy knoll at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac.  A vegetable garden bursting with crops of string beans, carrots, and tomatoes, surrounded the abode.  A pear tree stood next to the garden and offered a bounty of pale green fruits.  A carefully laid stone path led the way to the cottage’s front door where a fuzzy welcome mat greeted visitors.  As Herculea surveyed the property, she found it incredible that an old man lived here all alone.  She had expected the land to be uncultivated and the residence unadorned.  But everywhere tiny details, like a rose patch and wishing well, gave the home an air of warmth and hospitality.

With Kent standing beside her, Herculea knocked on the door.  As soon as the sound reverberated in her ears, a white-haired man dressed in a 1920’s era suit opened the door.  Wearing a broad, toothy grin and waving his hands theatrically, the man spoke before either Kent or Herculea had the chance.

“
Bom dia!”
The man spoke
in Portuguese
as though he were greeting old friends rather than strangers.

Herculea had the peculiar feeling that, somehow, he had been expecting them.

“
Bom
dia, Sen
h
or
.
  Do you speak English?” Herculea inquired politely, tempted to curtsy in the presence of this gallant man.

It was easy to forget, at least momentarily, that this man was the Secret Keeper, not someone’s sweet old grandfather.  The man scratched his beard thoughtfully.  If Herculea didn’t know better she would have thought that she had stumbled upo
n Santa Claus or Father Time.

The jovial man replied
with a dazzling white smile
, “I speak
many
languages.  But it has been a while since I spoke English.” His cheeks reddened as if he were embarrassed by his rusty language skills and prominent Brazilian accent.

Without introducing himself or inquiring as to the names of his guests, the man exclaimed, “Please come in!”

Kent and Herculea exchanged a perplexed look as they followed the man inside his cottage.  The inside of the cottage was as lovely as the outside, furnished with
inviting
sofa
s and equipped with a fireplace full of kindling.

“
I just picked some
vegetables from the garden.” The old man
pointed to a cherrywood table where a platter of freshly chopped snacks and milky dip were artfully arranged.

Politely, Herculea selected a carrot stick as Kent reached for a plum tomato and popped it into his mouth.  Herculea nearly gasped at the sweetness of the carrot. 
It
tasted sweeter
than any of the fruit Pedro had served her.  The carrot had an earthy tang
, the exact opposite of the mango juice’s bitter aftertaste
.  She smiled and reached for one of the sugar snap peas
.

“I think that is called “dressing” in English.  I made it myself from sour cream, pepper,
and a few secret ingredients.”

“Thank you for the vegetables. They’re really delicious.” She mumbled, grateful that Kent was sitting quietly and allowing her to control the situation.

“Thank you. 
Now, what may I do for you?” The old man sat back in his armchair and folded his hands in his lap, waiting for her to speak.