Marker of Hope Page 2

  As soon as Galilea walked out the door, I raised my arm and took a whiff. Ewe! Ripe. I headed straight to the bathroom.

  After I showered, I had long, miserable hours to think about everything Galilea had said—about how David had a right to know about the pregnancy, about Claire being better off alone than with a daughter who might turn cannibalistic at any given moment. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right on both counts.

  ***

  The oven timer beeped just as the front door screeched open. Claire was home, and I knew I had to tell her…that I was pregnant. The fact David and I were no longer together would make this situation a lot more complicated for her. For us. I was sure I would lose her trust, and it unsettled me, because although she’d always be my mother, I didn’t want to lose her as a friend. I was lucky to have such a close bond with her. I could confide in her, and she in me. I dreaded the mere thought of losing our bond.

  “You’re cooking,” Claire said, eyebrows high on her forehead as I pulled the chicken out of the oven.

  “Yup,” I said.

  “Well, this is a nice surprise.” She sat at the table. “Do you plan on leaving your room more often?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged as I walked across the kitchen with a plate in each hand. “No promises.”

  “Baby steps, huh?”

  Her words made me freeze in the middle of the room, a mix of paranoia and guilt drilling deep into me.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Y-Yes. Fine.”

  I set the plates on the table and sat down. Claire told me about her day at the office while I picked at my food, her words muted by the voice of my own thoughts urging me to get it over with and tell her.

  “Mom,” I said, when she finally paused to take a drink of her diet soda, “I’m…I’m p—”

  “Did you hear that?” Claire looked over her shoulder in the direction of the living room. “I think someone’s at the door.”

  I sighed, frustrated as well as relieved. “It’s probably Galilea. I’ll get it.”

  Galilea’s arms were folded over her chest when I opened the door, her brows creased tight. I could hear her pulse drumming at a higher rate than was normal for her.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  Galilea lowered one hand to her hip and used the other to motion to the left. I stepped onto the porch and turned to see what the cause of her aggravation was; only, it wasn’t a what, but a who, and he was sitting as collected as ever in perfectly pressed khakis on one of our rocking chairs.

  “Bonsoir.” Eros smirked. “Are you as happy to see me as I am to see you, my sweet?”

  I turned to Galilea. “Why would you bring him to my house?”

  “I didn’t bring him. You think I’m stupid? He followed me here.”

  “Followed you?” I frowned. “But you said you were always invisible out there.”

  “Well excuse me for not having enough energy to keep my block up when I’m using it all on my house, the lab, the doctors, you, your mother, and your house.”

  “Get him out of here.” I glanced at Eros, and his pearl-white teeth beamed as he smiled at me. “Galilea, do something!”

  “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying? I don’t have the energy to do anything right now.”

  “Well, find a way,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Um… I hate to interrupt this farm-chicken squabble, but it’s getting uncomfortably hot out here,” Eros said, rising from the chair. He stepped toward me. “Aren’t you going to invite me in to meet your mother?”

  “Are you cra—”

  “Her mother is right here,” Claire’s voice came from behind me. “And who might you be?”

  CHAPTER 3

  Galilea and I exchanged a worried glance. I didn’t know how to explain to Claire who Eros was or how I knew him, much less what he was doing on our doorstep.

  “Mom, he’s…a….uh…”

  “A friend of mine,” Galilea said. “Old, old friend.”

  “I’m Eros Lamoureux.” He took Claire’s hand and shook it. “It’s a pleasure, madam.”

  “Claire Martin.” Two lines formed between Claire’s brows. “You look familiar. Where have I seen you before?”

  “Eros isn’t from around here,” I said. “You don’t know him.” You don’t want to know him.

  “I said I’ve seen him before, not that I know him. I think…” She held a finger up. “Wait a minute. What did you say your name was, again?”

  “Eros Lam—”

  “Yes, I know where I’ve seen you. Isis, invite your friends in.” Claire pivoted and walked into the house. Galilea followed her in, but I remained on the porch.

  “What are you doing here, Eros?” I took a step closer to him, my hands folded into fists at my sides.

  “Chasing my runaway bride. I see you’re still human. And I know for a fact David is his old self, as well. Or at least it’s what I’ve been told. So…” He winked at me. “I’ve come to collect.”

  I’d made a deal with Eros in Greece, agreeing to marry him if he helped me stop my transformation and find my father. He did help me find Samuel, and neither David nor I had transformed into any type of monster—physically. However, inside, I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Somehow, I doubted it would matter to Eros.

  “If you think I’m marrying you,” I shook my head, “think again.”

  “You and I—we—made a pact. A deal is a deal.”

  “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

  “You should’ve given it more thought before you agreed to my terms.” He ran a finger along my arm, and I stepped away from him.

  “I have thought it over. The deal’s off,” I told him. “I might still be human, but you had nothing to do with it.”

  Eros sniggered. “I wish it were so simple.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning it doesn’t matter if either one of us want to break the deal. You have to follow through unless… You wouldn’t want to lose what you most love, would you?”

  “What? You jerk. You planned this so well. I can’t believe you would use your power to—”

  “I didn’t. The accord you made with me binds you. It’s not something I can revoke. It must be followed through until the end, otherwise…”

  “I lose what I most love,” I said. Eros nodded once. “Which is what?”

  “Not what, but who.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the front door. “Her memories will be taken. She won’t remember you.” He paused. “She’ll lose her mind.”

  “But… Shouldn’t I be the one punished for breach of contract?”

  “You don’t think it punishment enough?”

  “I do. I just… I don’t understand what my mother has to do with it. It’s not fair.”

  “These agreements never are.” He reached for my face. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry.” I pushed him away. “You’re sorry? Well, that sure makes it all better.” I frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me about the clauses in this stupid agreement to begin with?”

  “I wasn’t thinking. I…” Eros rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot the clause existed.”

  How convenient.

  I glared at him. I didn’t know if I wanted to bash his head in or smack it for being such a dimwit. “How does one forget, Eros?” I growled. “How could you not remember what was at stake?” I waited for a response. “Answer me.”

  He pushed me against the wall, my arms pinned against his chest, his hands on either side of my face. I could feel the beating of our hearts synced to the same rhythm—hard and manic.

  “Because it’s what you do to me. Especially when your temper takes over.” One of his thumbs stroked my jaw. “I can’t reason when I’m around you.” He leaned in, his gray eyes looking straight into me. “Why did you run from me?” He glanced at my lips. “I’ve missed you, my sweet.”

  And all of sudden, there it was. The electricity between us that made my bl
ood boil and pump through my cells like molten lava, claiming my better judgment. My eyes closed. I felt his lips press against mine. I gripped his shirt with one hand and moved the other up over his chest and to his shoulder. Then, stopping for a moment at the pulse on his neck, I reached for his head and sifted my fingers through his blond, silky hair. I pulled him harder against me. I was shaking, invigorated by the taste of his lips. I heard a groan escape his throat. He tried to pry my hands off his head, but I fought to keep his lips pressed against mine. They were sweeter and more sating than I remembered. I was swimming in a sea of succulence I didn’t know existed. I wanted more, so much more, of this.

  Suddenly, I felt a savage yank on the hair on my nape. The pain made me whimper. I withdrew my grip on Eros. Clutching my face with one hand, he pushed my head against the wall, his face centimeters from mine.

  “I don’t mind you being rough with me.” He panted. “As a matter of fact, I rather enjoy it. But using me to snack on is off limits. I’m not a steakhouse. Do you understand?”

  “Huh?” I was confused.

  “You bit me.” He stepped back and wiped his bottom lip with the back of a fisted hand. “Several times.” He showed me the blood smeared on his knuckles.

  I studied the bright red teeth marks and open slits on his swollen lip. I’d let myself slip. I’d bitten him, tasted his blood. And I liked it. I heaved in a tattered breath. How could I have allowed myself?

  “It’ll heal in a few minutes,” he said. “I assume it’s what you’re worried about.” He produced a handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiped his mouth and hand.

  “I didn’t mean to…to…do that,” I apologized.

  I suppose I should’ve been worried about him, concerned I could’ve just killed him. But instead, I was nervous for me. The Creatura inside me was more conniving than Eros. It was sly and aggressive, and, worst of all, it was overpowering me.

  “Why are you two still out there?” Claire’s voice came from inside the house.

  Eros sucked his lower lip into his mouth just as Galilea stepped onto the porch. Claire followed behind her.

  “I know where I’ve seen you.” Claire held up a fashion magazine. “Right here.” She looked at me. “He’s in here.”

  Eros took the magazine from Claire. He turned away, giving us his back, and flipped through the magazine.

  “Oh yes. I remember this.” He faced us, his lip already healed. “I don’t do many of those.” He handed the magazine back to Claire. “It’s a hobby, really.”

  “What’s a hobby?” I asked.

  “He’s an underwear model.” Galilea rolled her eyes. “Mister Vanity and tighty-whities.”

  “See for yourself,” Claire said, opening the magazine. She held it up for me to see. The page she showed me featured a black-and-white full-page advertisement of Eros standing on a rock surrounded by half-naked women pawing at his underwear—the one article of clothing on his body.

  A green, snarling monster crept deep into my chest and screamed a hundred expletives at the women in the magazine. I shouldn’t have felt the way I did. I shouldn’t have been jealous. But I was, and it infuriated me.

  “What do you think?” Eros asked.

  I didn’t look at him when I said, “Nice hobby.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Claire fanned herself with the magazine. “It’s scorching out here, and these mosquitos are going to eat us alive.”

  “Oh, no. He can’t—we can’t stay,” Galilea said. “We have a thing. We’re going to—”

  “Nothing that can’t be done later.” Eros stepped next to Claire. “I wouldn’t mind spending a few more minutes with these two beautiful ladies.”

  Claire let out a girlish, high-pitched laugh and led Eros through the front door.

  ***

  After a few glasses of cheap wine, a lot of giggling, and a conversation about Eros’s underwear-modeling career, Claire excused herself, saying she was feeling lightheaded and needed to lie down. But first, she took a selfie with Eros to show off at the office. I can’t say I wasn’t embarrassed by my mother’s fangirl elation, but then I remembered the effect Cupid had on women; they turned into putty in his presence—flirty, acquiescent idiots. I wondered if it was the type of girl I turned into around him. Nah.

  “Your mother’s a charming woman, not to mention beautiful.” Eros set his glass of water on the coffee table. “I can see why Samuel couldn’t help himself.”

  “Don’t you talk about my mother in that way,” I hissed.

  “Oh, right. I forget she’s my future mother-in-law.” He set his arm over the back of the sofa. “Shall we get down to business?”

  “Since when do we have business with you?” Galilea asked.

  “No one’s talking to you, Galilea.” Eros turned his attention back to me. “When are you going to tell your mother?”

  “What the hell? He’s been here two seconds, and you already told him you’re pregnant?” Galilea asked in a surprised loud whisper. “You kept it from me for weeks.”

  I felt like the armchair I was seated in was trying to swallow me whole. I wished it would.

  “P-pregnant?” Eros stuttered, and I looked down at the floor.

  “Oops,” I heard Galilea mumble. “My bad.”

  “You’re pregnant,” Eros repeated, and then waited for me to say something. I didn’t. “Does David know?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well…” he breathed, “what do you plan to do about this predicament?”

  “What do you think? I’m having a baby and raising it on my own.”

  Eros’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “David and I, we’re not…” It hurt to say it. “We’re not together anymore. I’m not telling him about my situation.”

  “I see.” Eros turned to Galilea. “I need to talk to her alone.”

  “Nope,” Galilea objected. “You already had your chance to talk to her in private earlier.”

  “It’s ok,” I said to Galilea. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  “Fine.” Galilea sounded hurt. “I’ll go smoke a ciggy on the porch.” She rose from the floor next to the coffee table where she’d been sitting and walked out.

  “So?” I asked. “What is it this time? Another deal? Another proposal to ruin me further?”

  “Ruin you? Oh no. You did that on your own. All I want is for you to tell David.”

  “Tell him?” I fixed my stare on him. “Why?”

  “Because if it were me, if I was the one in his shoes, I’d like to have the opportunity to raise my child.”

  “I don’t want him to take me back because I’m pregnant.”

  “I haven’t suggested you should have an amorous relationship with him. I said he should be aware he’s going to be a father.”

  I couldn’t be sure this wouldn’t turn into another of Eros sick, twisted mind games. Or worse yet, another trick. I wouldn’t fall for any of it. Not this time.

  “First of all, you’re the last person I’d take advice from.” I wished I could spit out fire instead of words. “And secondly, it’s none of your business what I do with my life.”

  “Fair enough.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the sofa. “But Isis, tell me, how did it feel to be raised only by your mother?” He rubbed his chin. “Don’t you miss having your father around?”

  His question squeezed hard on all four chambers of my heart. I sat back in my seat to lessen the discomfort in my chest. I understood all too well what he was telling me, and he was right. Children needed both parents. Sometimes, however, it wasn’t possible—beyond our control to have both a mother and a father.

  “What if David doesn’t want anything to do with this baby?” What if he didn’t’ believe it was his? I’d be flattened, obliterated by the pain.

  Eros walked over to me and knelt beside the chair I was sitting in.

  “If he’s dumb enough to let you go, then I’ll be the father your child needs.”

&nbs
p; I gawked at him. “Unbelievable. Is this part of another one of your sleazy deals?”

  “Not at all. This little life—” he touched my stomach “—is a part of you, and I will love it just as deeply as I love you.” He took my hands. “Marry me, Isis Martin. You won’t regret it.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “If I remember correctly, the deal was I’m supposed to marry you.” I pulled my hands away from his grip. “Now that my mom’s future is involved, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  “You can—” He paused. It took a moment for him to say what was on his mind. “You’re carrying the fruit of another deity in your womb.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “Which means the contract is null.”

  “Null? You mean I don’t have to marry you? And my mom won’t go crazy?”

  Eros nodded. My shoulders relaxed, and the throbbing in my head eased. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I’d never been so thankful to be pregnant.

  “Well?” Eros asked. “What’s your answer?”

  “To what?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am. I’ve never been so serious in my life.”

  I stared at him, at his full lips, at his gray, hopeful eyes. A few seconds passed.

  “Yes,” I told him. “I’ll marry you…when hell freezes over, pigs fly, and the fat lady sings.”

  He glared at me. “You’re mocking me? Okay.” He nodded. “Mock me.” He inched his face closer to mine. “But you should know your rejection only incites me to win you over, to seek you out all the more. You won’t get rid of me so easily, my sweet.”

  “Then it’ll be all the more effortless to devour you,” I said. “You’ll make a tasty first meal.”

  “You don’t scare me,” he said, but the way his eyes widened in response to my threat told a different story.