South of Surrender (Hearts of the Anemoi) (7 page)

The urge to see her, to prove with his own eyes that she’d survived Eurus’s attack, surged through him. He bolted through the house, following the twin beacons of Eurus’s trail and her energy to the very last door on a long hallway.

Bracing against whatever he was about to see, Chrys pushed inside and crossed toward the bed. His steps slowed, and then relief nearly took him to his knees. The sounds of her soft, even breathing and steady heartbeat were a sweet symphony in the still quiet of the room.

Bewilderment forced him to cross to the side of her bed. She lay on her side, her dark hair sprawled in a fan on the pillow. Safe. Well. Unharmed.

Despite the fact that Eurus had very likely stood in this exact spot not that long before. The energy trail was one of the freshest he’d encountered since the night on the bridge.

Thump, thump, thump
.

At his feet, an old brown dog lay curled in a ball.
Good doggy. Nice doggy. Please don’t eat my leg, doggy.
He whined, a sound of fear, and Chrys sank into a crouch. Petting the animal’s big head revealed he was shaking. Who in Hades knew what Eurus might’ve done to the poor guy, but no doubt it shaved off a few dog years. The animal heaved a deep breath of what sounded like relief and dropped his head on top his paws.

Even the dog was fine. Ish. Not bad for having had an encounter with his brother.

Chrys rose and studied this woman who had fascinated his dreamself these past days. Part of him was loath to even pose the question, but why in the name of Zeus and all the Olympians had Eurus left her alone? The god had been curious enough to search the property and come inside. Yet, she lived. She slept peacefully. Chrys didn’t even sense any of his brother’s trademark unluckiness upon her.

Doing no harm was so unusual for Eurus that Chrys just couldn’t fathom it. Then again, Chrys couldn’t understand most of what went on in the god’s mind anymore, and that was half the damned problem.

Thank the gods she’s okay.
He’d been so sure he’d find tragedy that he couldn’t pull himself away from the miracle of her survival.

For a moment, he got stuck there at the side of her bed, torn between the need to pursue his brother and the desire to revel in a moment of her heat. To feel that just one more…

No.

Finding Eurus was the priority. But Chrys wouldn’t leave her unprotected—not after Eurus had been so close to her and acted so uncharacteristically. Livos could watch over her and apprise him if Eurus returned.

Just as he turned away, a dim glow caught his eye. He sucked in a breath. A feather lay tucked under her pillow. Well, hell. It was one of the feathers from the wing of his sacred animal.

Bang-up job concealing yourself, Chrysander.

And, what do you know, Eurus’s energy smudged the golden glow of the quill like a stain. Fuck.

He was a big enough god to admit part of him was more than a little satisfied to know she’d taken it to bed with her, but no matter his satisfaction, he couldn’t leave a part of himself here. He reached out, his fingers closing on the stiff spine.

Laney’s hand fell atop his. “Am I dreaming? Or are you really here?”

Chapter Seven

Laney couldn’t believe it. Seth had shown her enlarged pictures on her laptop of the tree damage to the barn roof. And she’d spent a whole afternoon listening to the grind of the chainsaw cutting it to pieces. With each passing day, she’d convinced herself more and more that she’d imagined the whole thing with the horse and the man. And now, in the dead of night, the same odd golden glow she remembered was all she could see.

His hand disappeared from beneath hers. The golden light receded.

“Please. Don’t go again. Talk to me. Chrys?”

Finn’s tail thumped against the floor.

He was still here. His footsteps over the carpet gave him away. And if she didn’t believe her own ears, she had Finn’s tail to bolster her certainty.

“I know you’re here. And I know I’m awake.” She eased herself into a sitting position and scanned her vision over the room. There. By the door. The light was faint, but it was that unique color. Then it disappeared altogether.
No!
“Chrys?” Tossing the covers back, she swung her legs off the bed. She cried out, forgetting in her impatience to move more carefully. The cut on her leg was healing, but moving too fast still made her feel like her stitches might pop open.

Suddenly, the light returned. The glow came from the foot of the bed.

Laney’s heart sprinted in her chest, his reappearance shooting adrenaline through her body. She shivered.

“Are you all right?” came a deep masculine voice.

Goosebumps erupted over Laney’s skin. She remembered that voice. God, how she remembered it.

“I will be. Please stay. Please?” She didn’t know exactly what she wanted from him. All she knew was she had so many questions. And only he could answer them.

The silence stretched out. Finally, she had him here. He was
really
here. And she couldn’t think of what to say. She chuffed out a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

Soft movements told her he’d come closer still. The glow brightened. “Why are you apologizing?”

“It’s just…I’ve spent a whole week dreaming about you, convincing myself I’d dreamed you up in the first place. And now I’m all tongue-tied.”

“You dreamed of me?”

The air between them heated. And now her heart pounded for a different reason. “Uh, yeah,” she whispered.

The glow got closer. “I dreamed about you, too.”

Laney’s stomach flip-flopped and nervous energy skittered down her spine. He’d dreamed about her? And, what was that scent? Careful of her leg, she leaned toward him, just a little. The scent got stronger. It was immediately familiar, but hard to describe. It was just…the smell of summer. It was the heat of the sun and the rich aliveness of nature and the warmth of the breeze that she’d always associated with summertime.

She wanted to press her nose to his skin to see if she was really smelling him.

Realizing what she was doing, she sat back, heat roaring over her face.

Fingers caressed her cheek. “Mmm, that blush is sweet, and so warm. What caused it?”

How could he see her blush in the dark? She almost asked, but then his touch disappeared, and it was all she could do to restrain a whimper at the loss. “Uh, I was just…nothing.” She shook her head. Something very strange was going on here, and she had to figure out what it was. “Will you stay for a while?”

Pause. “I can’t. I shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.” His tone was full of regret.

“Does it have to be? I’d like you to stay. And I think…” She swallowed the rest of the sentence, not wanting to push too far.

“What do you think?”

Emboldened by the soft challenge of his words, she said, “I think you’d like to stay, too.”

“Do you, now?” Toward the foot of the bed, the mattress shifted. He blew out a long, weary-sounding breath.

Had he sat down? Victory surged through her. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, his tone serious.

Still, Laney smiled and a sort of giddiness rushed through her, like she was on the verge of an amazing discovery. “Okay. Since you’re here, any chance you’ll answer some questions?”

“Depends.”

“Fair enough. So, hold on. I want to get comfortable for this.”

He chuckled. The sound of it was deep and rich and sent a delicious shiver over her skin.

Slowly, Laney resituated herself until she could recline against her headboard. Trying to get a pillow under her knee made her moan in discomfort. These stitches couldn’t come out soon enough.

“Here,” he said in a low voice. His hands brushed the side of her knee as he positioned the cushion for her. She sucked in a breath, the heat of his touch lingering on her skin. “How badly are you injured?”

“Oh, uh…” The last thing she wanted was to make him feel bad. “It’s nothing that won’t heal.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but are you in pain?” His tone was suddenly intense.

It occurred to her that she should be afraid that she’d awoken to find a strange man in her bedroom, but she hadn’t once felt that particular emotion. It had been the same way that morning… “A little. It’s not as bad as it was.”

“I’m sorry for having frightened you.”

Man, she wished she could see his face, feel the contours of his skin with her hands. “Thanks. Um, which leads me back to those questions.”

“Persistent thing, aren’t you?”

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Is that bad?”

“No. Go ahead.”

His light shifted, spread lengthwise across the bottom of her bed. “Did you just lay down?”

“Do you mind?” Now the weariness was in his voice.

Actually, she really liked the thought of it. She wished she could see the full picture of what he looked like sprawled across her bed. Maybe she should turn on the light—seeing a little of him was better than none at all. But she was half afraid of scaring him off. Instead, the image of that muscular shoulder popped into her mind’s eye. She imagined him sprawled across her bed shirtless… “No, make yourself comfortable. Here.” She tossed a pillow toward him.

“You don’t need it?”

“Nah. I have about eighty-two pillows. I’m kind of pillow crazy.” She cringed. The thought of seeing him half naked apparently gave her a case of verbal diarrhea. Awesome.

He chuckled. “I’ll remember that. So, are pillows what you wanted to talk about?”

She grimaced. “No. No, they aren’t. I want to talk about you.”

“Hmm,” he said softly, just loud enough that she heard the low sound.

“Are
you
okay?”

Pause. “Yes.”

She traced the edge of the small bandage wrapped around her palm and decided to just go for it. “Did you…fall through my barn roof?”

Longer pause. “Do you want the truth or the rational answer?”

There was a difference? Suddenly, the air in the room felt alive with some unnamed energy. The hair on her arms stood on end. “Truth.”

“Then, yes.”

I knew it! There was never a tree!
Her scalp prickled. Laney swallowed, hard. “Okay. Okay. Um…did you fall through my roof as a man?”

His light, his body, shifted closer. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember everything that happened that night.”

A wondrous excitement skittered down her spine. “Because of the fight?”

“Yes.”

“A fight that took place…in the…” Man, she was going to sound so stupid. “In the sky?” She grimaced and awaited his laughter. It never came.

“Do you really want these answers, Laney?”

She shuddered out a long breath. She’d gone all the way down Weird Street and made a hard left onto Crazytrain Avenue. Except, something told her, as crazy as it seemed, it was also real. And if,
just if
, what he was telling her was real, it was also the most amazing thing she’d ever encountered. “Kant said, ‘Dare to know.’ So, yes, I want the answers.”

“You’re throwing Prussian philosophers at me now?”

She bit down on a grin, but he probably couldn’t see her reaction anyway. “Yeah, why not? I’ve always liked that motto. And…”

“What?”

She lived alone, worked from home, and didn’t have that many occasions to leave the farm, especially since she couldn’t drive anymore. Once, she’d had dreams of the world, went to college, expected to marry. Now, her life was the definition of sheltered. Chrys was the most interesting thing that had happened to her in recent memory. Maybe ever. Not that he needed to know all that.

Plus, she recalled the sadness she’d felt as she’d knelt next to the winged horse, worried that he was lost and alone and injured… Something about him reminded her of those feelings, even now.

“Well, to be honest, I want to know you.”

His golden light seemed to flare. “Rock on, then,” he said in a voice that sounded almost raspy. “And, the answer is yes.”

“Yes, as in, you fell through my barn roof after having a fight in the sky?”

“That about sums it up.”

Adrenaline flooded through her. “This is…this is…I don’t even know.”

“Maybe that’s enough questions for now.”

“Just a few more. Please? You’re the only one I can talk to about this without risking a one-way all-expenses-paid trip to the psych ward.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” Did he wear a smile to go along with the amusement in his voice?

She forced herself to focus before he ran out of patience altogether. “Okay. Who were you fighting?”

“Hmm. My brother. But that’s all I’m saying about that.”

Laney yawned, hoping she hadn’t offended him. “All right. So, uh, this next question’s a doozy.”

“Hit me.” He shifted again, and she almost went for the light, just so she could see exactly how he was laying. But for this next question, she wanted the cover of darkness.

Here goes nothing
. “Are you a Pegasus?”

When she was just about sure he wouldn’t answer, he said, “As in Pegasus, the horse-god son of Poseidon and Medusa?”

Holy crap, he’s taking me seriously? At least, I think he is…
“Um, honestly, I don’t know that much about mythology. I just know that the winged horse was named Pegasus.”

“Well, in mythology, not all of the winged horses were Pegasus.”

Her scalp prickled and the hair on her arms rose. “Holy crap, Chrys, what are you saying?” she whispered. When he didn’t answer right away, she pushed on. “Okay, I’ll rephrase the question. Are you a… No. Can you
also
be a winged horse?”

…

Chrysander lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He should really go. Chase Eurus while the trail was hot. Actually, he should never have returned in the first place. But the sound of her distress had reeled him back into her room. And then he was talking to her, touching her, making himself comfortable on her bed, soaking up her warmth and her smile and her laughter.

It all felt…
so
damn good.

Good like Chrys hadn’t felt in who knew how long.

Still, Eurus had to be his main focus right now. And he was getting away. Chrys groaned and tugged his hands through the wavy length of his hair.

“You don’t have to answer,” Laney said.

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Was she actually willing to accept the idea of him as a man who could also be a horse? Over the millennia, Chrysander had found humans eager to rationalize away anything that didn’t fit their version of reality. Why would she be any different? He blew out a long breath. “It’s not your questions that bother me.” Hell, he
wanted
to answer them. Which meant he should really summon Livos and go.

Her movement on the bed drew his gaze. She pulled the pillow from beneath her knees, slung it to the side, and eased herself into a laying position on her stomach. “Then what does?”

Chrys heard her question but his brain scrambled. The pajama shorts she wore were tiny and made her bottom look so freaking…delectable. He could almost see himself getting up, tugging her hips to the edge of the bed, and sinking deep, deep inside.

Suddenly, the memories of his dreams blurred with reality, and he remembered the incredible scorching heat of her center. He knew it’d only been a dream. He knew it. But the hardness and the tightness of his body made it clear a part of him thought the memory real.

Or at least willing to find out how reality compared to the dream.

Almighty Zeus
.

But then his gaze dragged downward, to the length of bandages covering the back of her calf.

She was hurt, and it was his fault.

“Can I have my feather back?” she whispered.

“
Your
feather?”

She smiled, and it was so genuine. “My feather.”

Her
feather? The idea that she claimed a part of him as hers skittered over his skin, arousing and frightening. The combination of reactions fascinated him. “You have a very nice smile, Laney.”

And, bingo. That lovely blush colored the apple of her cheek again. He could feel the heat of it from where he lay, which suddenly felt too far away.

“How do you know I’m smiling?”

“My eyesight is strong.”

“Hmm.” The skepticism in that soft murmuring made him grin. He couldn’t believe how well she was handling what he’d so far revealed. Was it her open-mindedness that most intrigued him? Her acceptance of his truths? Maybe it was that she’d helped him at his weakest moment?

Or, was it that hers was the first skin-on-skin touch he’d enjoyed in…he couldn’t even say how long?

Chrys dug into his pocket and retrieved the object in question. Slowly, he rolled toward her, coming to settle in the middle of the bed. Her eyes went wide and he wondered how she saw him so well. She’d never once suggested the lights, yet she seemed to track his movements like she could see him plainly. That he could see her wasn’t surprising; his eyesight was as strong in the dark as in the day.

“Maybe I’ll make you a trade,” he said, spinning the feather by the spine.

“For what?”

“Feather for your hand,” he said, the idea unleashing an urgent need in his gut. “Your injured hand.”

“Why?”

“Dare to know, right?”

Slowly, she extended her arm across the space between them.