West of Want (Hearts of the Anemoi)
Between her touch and her concern, guilt finally replaced doubt as the leading emotion squeezing his chest. She deserved better than what he was giving her. How like him to look for ways to mess up a good thing. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” He waved a hand at the sky. “This is all a part of me, remember?”
A quizzical expression stole over her face, then she smiled. “Oh, right.”
“As long as it’s not exceedingly hot or cold, I’m good in any kind of weather,” he said, forcing himself to be more open, more talkative. To get out of his damn head.
“Wow, you’re really amazing. You know that?” She pressed her cold lips against his cheek.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Not half amazing as you.” Tucking his head against her hair, he breathed her in.
She struck up a light conversation that eased his mind and body. He admired how open and free she was, despite her own experience of betrayal and heartbreak. Without question, she could teach him a thing or two. If only he’d have the time to learn from her.
Eurus’s warning loomed in the back of his mind. Surely that’s why he’d been so edgy all morning. Having claimed her body, received her acknowledgement that there was something special between them, the thought of having to leave her—or of losing her in any way—pained him to the very core of his being. Somehow, in the next eighty hours, he had to disarm his brother’s threat, figure a way to truly be with Ella, and settle this heir issue with Aeolus. He couldn’t linger in her realm forever, and there had to be a succession plan for the West that didn’t involve an eastern god.
“Nice breeze today,” Kyle said. “What could be nicer?”
Ella smiled, totally in her element. “Nothing at all. Take us flying, Kyle.”
He grinned at her and winked from behind his glasses. “You bet.”
A few onlookers waved from shore as the boat passed an open promenade, then Ella was pointing out the grounds of the Naval Academy, the Severn River, and the old radio towers looming over Greenbury Point. Beyond that, the Woodwind II sailed into the open water of the Chesapeake Bay and picked up speed.
At the captain’s orders, the crew hoisted the sails, magnificent furls of white going up and up. The wind captured the boat and lifted it, carrying it along the water’s surface at a good, strong clip.
Ella tilted her head back, and the wind streamed through the long tendrils of her golden brown hair. “Oh, God, I love this.” She leaned against his shoulder. “Isn’t it incredible that something seventy-four feet long and weighing 50,000 pounds can move like this?”
“Truly,” Zeph said. He closed his eyes and breathed the wind deep into his lungs. He concentrated and let the clean air blow through him. He released his doubts and fears and worries and felt lighter as the stiff breeze carried the dark emotions away.
“In the summertime, you can barely find a free speck of surface, there are so many sailboats out here. The spring and fall are my favorite times to sail because there’s less traffic and great winds. Like today.”
Zeph couldn’t help but smile at her unintentional compliment. What fortune to find a woman who valued and praised the wind. He shook his head. The more she intrigued him, the more vulnerable his heart became to her.
He just had to be sure not to poison the gifts she offered with his self-doubt.
Leaning against him, Ella said, “They used this boat in a movie a few years ago. It was called Wedding Crashers. Very funny. Marcus watched the filming. There’s a photo album around here somewhere.”
Zeph kissed her forehead, enjoying the cadence of her voice mixed in with the breeze. It was like music to him. “Tell me something else,” he said, wanting more of the magical notes.
She smiled up at him. “About what?”
“Anything.”
Her fingers caressed the curve of bone around his eyes. “Your eyes are bright again.”
“Your fault.”
Despite the cool air, her cheeks reddened. He liked that his words, his look, could do that to her. “Okay, well…” She looked away, out over the ship’s bow. “Um, that bridge there.” She pointed to the massive dual-span bridge that crossed the bay just ahead. “That’s the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. It connects the Western and Eastern Shores of Maryland.”
Zeph froze and eyed the impressive suspension cables arcing out over the bridge. The thing was a literal portal between East and West.
Ella continued on in that same warm lilt of her voice. “The views from the highway are phenomenal. You can see all the spires of Annapolis. Just beyond the bridge is where all the international ships anchor to wait for pilots to take them into the port at Baltimore. They’re fun to sail near—you can see flags from all over the world. Sometimes Navy ships anchor here, too, even naval ships from other countries. They often come for events at the Academy.”
The sound of her words continued to intrigue him, but he remained stuck by that one thing she’d said. “So, what you’re saying is that you live on the divide between the eastern and western parts of your state.”
“It’s the east thing, right? That’s what’s bothering you?” The tone of her voice completely different now, Ella’s words pulled him from his thoughts. She turned her whole body toward him.
Zeph felt his mouth drop open. “I…”
“In the car, too? I didn’t put it together right away. But I’m right, aren’t I?”
“It’s just a coincidence,” he said, willing belief into his voice.
“Do you really believe that? Because, honestly, you looked kinda freaked out in the car, and you just had that same expression on your face again.”
He sighed and dropped his head. So much for not ruining what was between them.
“Hey.” The warmth of her palm curled around his jaw and tugged his eyes back to hers. “I met your brother, remember? I was on the receiving end of his freaking curse. So I understand why anything to do with him would make you suspicious.” Her gaze was all rich brown and open concern. “But how can I prove to you it is all coincidence?”
“You don’t need to,” he said, hearing the gruffness in his voice and feeling like shit. Here she was meeting his insecurities with understanding, when she would’ve been in her rights to be hurt or indignant, especially given the incredible hospitality and affection she’d gifted him.
“Are you sure about that?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, Ella.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be sorry, Zeph. Just help me understand. What happened between you and Eurus? What happened that so damaged your trust? You know my story. Will you please tell me yours?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Woodwind II returned to dock an hour later, and anxiety flooded Zeph at the thought of his promise to Ella. But she deserved the truth, and her reaction to his suspicions gave him hope that, just maybe, she would respond to the wreckage of his past relationships with equal grace and acceptance.
It wasn’t a story he wanted to tell in public, though, so until they returned to her house, he was putting thoughts of the looming conversation aside.
Zeph followed Ella into the hotel lobby through which they’d earlier passed. Amazing the difference a few hours made. Having shared in her foremost passion, Zeph was more enamored with Ella than ever before. Here was a woman who prized the outdoors, who valued the natural environment and understood its functioning, who came to life the more the wind blew through her hair.
As they passed the maître d’ stand, Ella whirled on him. “Are you hungry?” She rubbed her hands together and blew her warm breath over them.
His eyes fixed on her open lips. “Very.”
She chuckled. “You’re so bad. I’m talking about food, mister. I’m starving.”
Zeph’s gaze flew up to meet her laughing eyes. He loved seeing her so lighthearted. Amazingly, he felt his own cheeks heat up. How curious! But wonderful, too. Especially as the rapid beat of his heart accompanied the sensation. “I could eat.”
She grasped h
is hand and squeezed. “Great. They have good food here. Wanna try it?”
“Love to.”
A short wait later, they were seated at a table with a view of the water they’d just sailed.
“In warmer weather, you can sit out on the dock,” Ella said, “and watch the boats sail up and down Ego Alley.” Zeph frowned and Ella chuckled. “That’s what they call the city dock inlet that runs along the front of these restaurants. Boaters drive in and out to see and be seen.”
“Did you ever do that with True Blue?”
Smiling, Ella looked down at her menu. “Well, yeah. It’s like a boaters’ rite of passage or something. It was Marcus’s idea, though. I don’t think I would’ve done it without him pushing me. He was such a freaking showboater.” She laughed, a sound full of good memories.
“Tell me about him,” Zeph said, eager to keep that look in her eyes, on her face.
Just then, the waiter approached the table. He was tall, young, and without an apparent iota of self-preservation, given the way he was staring at Ella. “Welcome to Pusser’s,” he said, awaiting Ella to look up from her menu. “I’ll be your server tonight. What can I do for you?”
Zeph raised an eyebrow as he glared at the man. He glanced at Ella, who looked oblivious to the other man’s interest. She seemed unaware in general of her effect on men, but he’d seen it in the way the younger crewmen on the Woodwind had watched her, and now the waiter.
She smiled at Zeph, eyes alight. “Their crab dip is incredible. You have to try some.”
“Sounds great.” He reached across the table and grasped her hand as Ella ordered. At first he’d done it to stake his claim—a ridiculous, foreign desire, especially given the awesome power differential between him and the human male—but then he’d felt how cold she was. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “Why don’t we have some wine, as well. It’ll warm us.”
Ella’s smile grew. They selected a bottle and the waiter thankfully departed.
“So, Marcus?” he asked.
She stroked soft fingertips over his knuckles, a thoughtful expression on her face. “It’s really hard to reduce my relationship with him to words. He was my other half, my entire life. He was born four minutes before me, and he never let me forget it.” She smiled and her gaze flickered to his.
He sucked in a breath at the pain behind the smile. “You don’t have to talk about him if it’s too hard, love.”
Shaking her head, she straightened in her chair and shrugged. “I don’t have anyone else to talk about him with. I’d like to, if that’s okay.”
His heart squeezed in his chest. “It’s more than okay. I want to know you, and with brothers of my own, I know how important they are.”
Her grip tightened on his hand. “Yeah. We grew up on the bay and were into sailing by the time we were nine. My dad was retired Navy and loved it, totally encouraged it, which was great, especially since it’s not the cheapest hobby a kid can be into.” She smiled again, a small, sad expression. “Then we joined a junior sailing club and spent every possible second we could on the water. We started racing, and then we started teaching at the camps ourselves. I can’t even talk about Marcus without talking about sailing. It’s who we were. Where we thrived. We could fight about how he’d destroyed the bathroom we shared in one breath and be bonding over an upcoming race in the next.”
The waiter placed the crab dip onto the table and poured the wine, then took their dinner order with a more professional demeanor. Hopefully, that meant he’d gotten the message.
“You have to try this,” Ella said, spooning some of the creamy dip onto a piece of crusty baguette. “Some of the best crab dip in town.” She handed the bread to him.
Zeph’s tongue tripped over competing emotions. Gratitude that she wanted to serve him with her own hands warred with the conviction that she have her fill before he took from her plate. “You first, please,” he said.
“Don’t be silly. I’m dying to see if you’ll like it. Growing up on the bay, eating crabs is almost in the blood. Go on, now, try it.”
Unable to resist her enthusiasm, Zeph leaned forward and took a bite out of the heaping morsel in her hand. As he closed his lips around the food and chewed, a conflagration ignited within his mouth. The dip was molten hot. Totally surprised by the pain, Zeph choked the food down and the burn slid into his gut and stole his breath.
“Zeph? Oh, my God. Are you okay?” Ella flew out of her chair and rounded the table. “Your face is bright red. It’s too hot, isn’t it? Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”
He heard Ella’s concerned words and felt her hand on his back, but he couldn’t respond. Sweat dampened the skin under his hair and ran down his spine. Zeph closed his eyes and attempted to focus his special healing energy inward. It didn’t work, though. It never did. He’d just have to wait for the normal powers of his godhood to address the injury.
“Here, Zeph. Drink.” Cold glass touched his lip and he recoiled. Without looking, he sensed the ice water, and knew that would increase his distress. But he couldn’t talk. His tongue lay fat and swollen in his mouth and rawness coated the tender flesh of his throat. “Zeph. It’s water. It’ll help.” Her hand caressed his hair. “Oh, God. You’re sweating. Tell me what to do.”
But there was only one thing that would help. He opened his eyes, met hers, and prayed she would understand.
…
Zeph disappeared. Right out from under her hands. Stunned, Ella gasped and the water glass slipped from her fingers. It fell against the padding of Zeph’s empty seat, splashing water and ice cubes everywhere but at least not shattering the goblet.
Ella’s head whipped right and left, looking to see who was watching and how they were reacting to Zeph’s invisible man routine. But no one was sitting right next to them, and those nearest were wrapped up in their own conversations.
Dazed and trembling, Ella sank into her own seat.
Zephyros.
Guilt ripped through her. Her eyes landed on the appetizer, thin curls of steam rising from the dip. What the hell was she thinking? He’d specifically told her he couldn’t tolerate temperature extremes. The sharp angles of his face, the mottling of his skin, the way he shook beneath her hand—she’d never forget those pained, glassy eyes looking up at her as he endured what she could only guess had been agonizing, shocking, and totally foreign.
Where had he gone? Would he come back? And, oh God, would he think she’d done it on purpose?
The memory of their earlier conversation surfaced then, and she recalled how he’d tried to hide his fear and suspicion. Her heart had gone out to him, because she knew what it was not to trust. She’d been sad to learn he was doubting her, doubting them, but mostly because she knew that must stem from some big hurt in the past. At least that was her rationale for questioning what was going on between them. As she’d dressed to take him sailing this morning, all she could think was how she could ever be interesting enough to hold a god. He could apparently travel the world in the blink of an eye, and she was offering him an hour on a boat. Woo-hoo. It was everything to her, but how it could it possibly be enough for an immortal?
She reached for her wine, her hand shaking, and took a long gulp. The alcohol trailed warmth down her chest into her belly, and she could only imagine how much more intense that sensation had been for Zeph. The merlot went right to her head, and the room went hot and spinny around her.
The waiter delivered their meals, chatting and asking her questions she could barely understand through the roar of noise between her ears. She nodded in what must’ve been the right places, because he finally left. Her stomach rolled at the smell of her shrimp and she shoved the plate away and slumped back in her chair.
Minutes passed, and dread joined guilt. She sucked down deep breaths, pushing back the threatening nausea and alleviating the tightness in her chest. The waiter came to ask if something was wrong with the food. Then he returned to ask if she wanted it boxed. Some time later, he offered de
ssert and coffee. Finally, he cleared the table, left the billfold, and stopped asking questions. Ella paid, but was at a loss for what to do. Should she wait? Should she go? Zeph obviously knew where she lived, but would he come here or go there?
She dropped her head into her hands and fought through the gathering panic to formulate a plan. Home. He’d come there twice before. He’d go there again.
Assuming he returned at all…
Ella shoved out of her seat so hard it tipped onto two legs. She grabbed the armrest and righted it before she made a scene of herself and tugged on her coat. The pity on the cute waiter’s face didn’t help. Great. He clearly assumed she’d been ditched by her date. Well, maybe she had—you know, right after she’d scorched the flesh off his insides.
Her knees felt weak, like they couldn’t possibly carry her weight, but before she knew it, she was back at her Prius, remembering how adorable Zeph had looked all squished into the passenger seat. And not a single gripe.
A gasping sob tore up her throat and she slapped a hand over her mouth. She dropped her head against the cold metal of the car’s roof and let it ease the headache blooming behind her eyes.
A heavy palm fell upon her shoulder.
Hope exploded in her chest. A hand that big could only be…She whirled around.
And found Eurus looming over her, less than an arm’s reach away. Her arm, not his.
Her back against the car, Ella was trapped. And though the lot was lit and people walked the sidewalk along the street not thirty feet away, Eurus seemed to deaden and suck into himself every bit of surrounding light, like a black hole from which there was no return.
Ella’s heart tripped and sprinted against her breastbone, and her earlier nausea worsened until she was swallowing repeated mouthfuls of sour saliva. “What do you want?”
“You hurt my brother.” He cocked his head as if studying her, and even with the sunglasses she could feel his gaze slither over her face.