The main building, which housed the church, was constructed of heavy, smooth stone and turrets at each corner, much like a medieval fort. With few minutes remaining, she took pictures of the main building, a stone fountain, and a section of the ruined wall overlooking the mountain. Vicky pulled out her walking sticks and adjusted her backpack as the guide headed out to the worn path that would take them to refuge A.
They trekked on a steadily ascending path that narrowed in some areas and widened in others. Ancient forests of hardwood and bushes flanked the path, along with the occasional large rock and the unusual cluster of bright flowers. Birdsong carried out to them from the woods.
Within ten minutes, the rush of waterfall drowned out all softer sounds. They’d arrived at the Enipeas waterfalls. The guide announced that they could stop for pictures. Vicky laid her backpack down and took out her camera. Cautiously, she moved to the edge of the path, which dropped down about thirty feet to an active gorge. Her breath caught. Twin waterfalls spilled into an aqua lagoon, which then moved through uneven levels between jutting rocks and low tree branches. She recalled having read somewhere that the gorge was several miles long. Looking further down the chasm, she saw a wooden bridge, which joined the two sides. Though she couldn’t see them from this location, there were several others.
She lifted her camera and took various shots. Pictures simply chronicled her trips, but the experience would stay alive in her heart for as long as she lived.
“Would you like a picture with the falls in the background?” Jim asked.
Vicky felt a blush warm her cheeks, sensing the man’s attraction to her. “Sure, why not?”
He took her camera and she positioned herself in line with the falls. Her smile came easily. He snapped two pictures, viewed them in the digital window and gave a satisfied nod.
“You’re very photogenic. Are you a model?”
She chuckled. “No, but my sister is.”
“No surprise if she looks anything like you.” He grinned as he returned the camera.
Her cheeks grew warmer. “Thanks. Em, would you like me to take one of you?”
“I don’t take pictures on hikes.”
“Never?”
“No. It’s all in here.” He tapped his head.
Kinda like me.
The hike continued for two hours on a steeper, winding path through a dense variety of conifers, their distinct smell a fresh bouquet in the air. At open spaces, she enjoyed the views of lower lush mountain peaks. Olympus had fifty-two in all. Vicky’s stamina was good so far, mostly due to her vigorous workouts at the gym.
They arrived at the refuge a little past twelve and were greeted by the owners, a middle-aged, friendly couple. The refuge was a stone building with a red, slanted roof. Its location couldn’t be better. The tour’s website had described the refuge’s location as being perched on a natural balcony at the base of the highest peaks of the mountain, while overlooking the Aegean to the east.
With barely contained eagerness, Vicky walked over to the railing on the west side and let her gaze run up the alpine slopes of the summit. She fished her binoculars out of her backpack.
“Wow.” There they were, the three highest peaks of Olympus: Skala, Skolio, and Mytikas. The mists swirled thicker now, like the ghosts of the Olympians themselves. Time evaporated for a long, tranquil moment, evoking visions of an ancient civilization and supernatural beings whose spirits lived in their descendants, the modern demigods. Her skin prickled at the thought of them. She was sure she’d never met one. Although most lived among humans as regular civilians, their immortal nature was distinct, unmistakable, as was their physical beauty. They often held positions of power in private industry and government. Overall, they enjoyed a fearsome reputation.
Even at her present altitude, she saw that Mytikas was the most jagged and dangerous of the three peaks. She could see people standing on the top of it and felt a strong tug of longing. Her fear of heights kept her away from mountain climbing classes and most activities involving heights. But she’d accepted her limits.
The breeze up here was stronger, prying loose a lock of hair from her ponytail. The air was thinner too. She made her way to the eastern side of the courtyard and took in the sparkling sea, visible through the horseshoe opening of the range. Many people stopped their journey here and stayed the night. The refuge offered decent amenities and food, plus stunning sunset and sunrise views.
They had lunch and those who would be going on to the summit rested for about an hour. She caught sight of Jim as he picked up his walking sticks. She crossed the short distance to him and he smiled. “Well, good luck and be safe,” she said.
“Thanks. Too bad you can’t come.”
“Yeah, but that’s okay.” She gestured at the summit. “This is a really good spot and I’ve got my binoculars.”
His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Don’t miss sunrise.”
“I won’t.”
His gaze lingered on her face, prompting heat to her cheeks once more. Though she didn’t feel particularly attracted to him, she always blushed when a man looked at her with interest.
“I guess I’ll see you in town tomorrow,” Jim said with an expectant note in his voice. His group would descend from a different trail the following day.
“Yes. Enjoy the hike.” Vicky discreetly closed the subject so as not to get his hopes up. She watched as half the group walked back across the path, then she turned and went into the refuge and ordered Greek coffee.
Chapter Three
The following day, they returned to Litohoro, the village at the foothills of the mountain, where their journey first began. They would be staying the night and the schedule was open, allowing the members to enjoy the town as they pleased.
Vicky had returned to the hotel to shower and change into a white sleeveless dress that fell halfway down her thighs. September in Greece was usually quite warm and the late afternoon sun was a soothing caress on her skin. Despite the hike—eight hours in all—she’d spent most of it under shady trees.
She felt a pang of guilt for avoiding Jim, but she wanted to explore the quaint village her way, to talk to the locals, shop at her leisure, and wander about without the need to entertain someone’s company. At one of the tourist shops, she bought souvenirs for herself, Mom, and Kay, while practicing the basic Greek she knew. In her opinion, it was unacceptable to visit a foreign country without some grasp of the native language. Before the trip, she’d bought a Greek conversation guide book that came with a CD and she’d learned several common words and sentences. She browsed a while longer and decided to have one last coffee for the day. Taking a seat at a quiet corner cafe, she ordered a cappuccino and couldn’t resist the baklava, a delicate phyllo pastry filled with chopped nuts and honey.
“Efharisto poli,”
the waiter said as she handed him several Euro dollars that included a generous tip.
“Parakalo.”
She returned his smile and slipped her wallet back into her handbag. She was about to close it when something at the bottom caught her eye. She reached in and pulled out a clear little tube. It looked like a perfume sample. Vicky’s brows came together as she tried to remember when she’d received this. Not recently, for sure.
She rolled it between her fingers and read the black writing on the tube.
Drink Me.
She raised an eyebrow, finding it an odd name for a perfume.
Unless…hmm.
She removed the cap and gasped as a sudden, cool wind swept over her, sending a shockwave of shivers through her body. Startled, she looked around for the source. Her napkin was no longer on the table and the wind rustled the plants in their ceramic pots. Then, it just died.
Strange.
Maybe someone pissed Zeus off, she thought with a chuckle.
She looked at the tube again, tentatively sniffed the contents and crinkled her nose. It didn’t smell like anything. She closed the cap and looked at the name again.
Did it literally mean drink it?
She had no clue how it had gotten in her bag so she wasn’t going to do that. The rational part of her brain told her to toss it into a bin, but there was an odd urge to hold on to it. Vicky got up and started back to the hotel.
* * * *
Leandros’ head snapped up as the metallic smell invaded his senses like a sweet, deceptive poison.
STX. No doubt about it.
Any demigod could smell it a mile away. The person carrying it was much closer. He tossed the bag of fruits into the rented Mercedes and followed the trail of scent.
As a senior crimes agent in the international division of deities, trafficking of STX fell under his jurisdiction. He and his team had cracked down on this problem over the years and had succeeded in removing a large quantity of STX from the black market. No person, human or immortal, had the right to possess this potion. An elusive group of demigods had taken enough water from the sacred well of Styx to create the chemically altered potion. It was a sacrilegious act, made worse by the fact they were selling it to humans.
The River Styx was as old as mankind. The doctrine of the ancient gods stated that the river was the only passage from life to death. The river itself was virtually ethereal, its only tangible source the well located in a deep cave in Mount Olympus, now guarded day and night by law enforcement officers. Despite its reputation among humans as
the river of death
, it provided a gentle passage to the other world. Those who came to the well with faith experienced healing miracles. Leandros had witnessed this. Otherwise, the water of Styx belonged to no one.
If the offender was one of his own kind, Leandros would strip him of his immortality and leave him begging for mercy. If he was human, he’d spend the next three years in prison. As his senses honed in on the young woman crossing the square, a knot clenched his insides, giving his stride pause. Both sexes craved STX, but for some unexpected reason, he was gravely disappointed that his target was a healthy-looking young woman.
He began walking again, growing angrier by the second. His eyes took in her shapely curves under the white dress, the lovely, toned legs and the silky bounce of her golden hair. His instinct told him the front of her looked even better. A woman like that could have just about anything she wanted if she played her cards right.
Why would she risk ruining her life?
He caught up with her moments after she entered the lobby of a hotel. Her low heels clicked against the marble floor, drawing his eyes to her legs again. Leandros’ blood rushed hot and primal in his veins before pooling in his groin.
Damn the woman.
The closer he got, the less interested he was in arresting her, assaulted by visions of sexual acts that would even make some goddesses blush.
Before she reached the elevator, he spoke, “Miss. Can I have a word?” he said in English.
As she turned around, a delicate, vanilla scent filled his nostrils, and when his eyes met hers, lust hit him in the groin and beyond.
Fuck.
Humans rarely affected him like this…if ever. Her large, hazel eyes widened in surprise as she stared up at him. Her beauty was pristine, the long dark lashes, the high cheekbones and the deep rose of her full mouth untouched by makeup. When her lower lip trembled a fraction, it communicated a delicate, feminine nature, which made desire twist tighter inside him.
Her brows arched. “Yes?”
American.
Leandros pulled out his wallet and opened it to the photo compartment, which contained his law enforcement ID. “I’m a deities law enforcement agent.”
A perplexed look came over her face.
“I believe you’re carrying STX,” he continued.
“I’m sorry?” She shook her head. “You’ve made a mistake.”
His gaze dropped to her bag. “No mistake. It’s in your bag.”
She glanced down at her bag, still looking baffled. Then her mouth tensed as she offered it to him. “There. Go ahead and search it.”
He was somewhat surprised by her boldness. She knew he’d find the vial there. He took the bag from her and within seconds produced the illegal substance. He watched a mixture of emotions cross her lovely face, but none reflected guilt.
She gave a little snort. “
That’s
STX? Please. It’s obviously some perfume.”
Leandros frowned. Her acting skills were impressive. “I can
smell
it,” he responded firmly.
She pushed out an annoyed sigh and shook her head. “It’s impossible.” She stared hard at the vial before meeting his eyes again, an angry flush on her cheeks. “I hiked for eight hours on that mountain with no need for any unnatural substance. If I wanted to drink it, I would have already.”
Leandros considered this a moment while watching her. He inclined his head. Her response seemed genuine, yet it didn’t explain how she came to possess it. “That’s a good argument, however, you might just be selling it.”
Her eyes turned a stormy gray and narrowed as her hands came on the slim curve of her hips, the motion making his blood pulse harder. His cock pressed against his pants.
What is it about the woman?
She turned him on even when she was angry.
“Look. Take my ID and run it through your computer. I don’t have a criminal record. I don’t do drugs of any kind.”
His profession had honed his ability to read human behavior. This last statement of defense made something inside him click. She was telling the truth. In any case, he was in Greece on vacation. He wasn’t equipped with a work computer to check her record. Of course, he could contact the office in Athens, but that was unnecessary.
He inclined his head and caught her gaze. “Okay. I believe you, but you’re still in possession of STX.” He paused. “Do you know anyone who would have reason to put it in your bag? To get you arrested, or use you as transport?”
The anger faded from her eyes and her expression softened. “No…I’m not aware of anyone who would do that.”
“Did you leave your bag unattended at any point during your trip, or before?”
She gave her head a firm shake. “I never leave my things unattended, and back home…”