P. C. Cast - Goddess Summoning 06, page 13
“Jacqueline, I did not rape Achilles.”
“Katrina. Was he in control of all of his faculties?”
Kat’s grin was slow and satisfied. “It certainly felt like he was.”
“Fresh! You are so fresh! And that is not what I meant. I mean was he conscious or under your diabolical influence when you shtuped him?”
Kat chewed her lip, hesitated, and then gave up. She always told Jacky everything—she might as well get it over with. “Look, earlier last night I met him out on the beach after Agamemnon’s bullshit. And, well, we’d been getting along at the king’s tent, even though I did piss off the king. God, he’s as annoying as Hera said. Anyway, what I said was nothing compared to Achilles announcing that he and all his men who had a mind to follow him would be withdrawing from the battle.”
“Bet that went over with Agamemnon like hot turds.”
“Yeah, and Achilles told him off and we almost had to fight our way out of there. And may I take this opportunity to mention that Briseis doesn’t seem like a very nice girl.”
“You met her?”
“Not really. She was lounging against Agamemnon’s royal knee throwing me dirty looks.”
“What kind of looks did she throw at Achilles?” Jacky asked.
“She didn’t. The bitch didn’t glace at him one time. It wasn’t like she wanted him, but more like she just didn’t want me to have him. I ignored her and held on tight to Achilles’ arm. That really freaked her out.”
“Holding onto his arm freaked her out? What is she, some kind of weird virgin?”
“No, my guess is she’s like most of the women from this time. They’re freaked out by anyone touching Achilles on purpose.”
“Why?” Jacky asked. “Is it just that berserker thing? Hell, remember my brief but unfortunate thug phase and Rashod a.k.a. X? He was mean as a snake, but he watched himself and showed some damn sense during the short time I dated him. Yes, I do admit that he is now doing time for accidentally killing his neighbor, LaShawn Johnson, but clearly when we stopped dating he also stopped using good sense.”
“Jacky, Rashod a.k.a. X, pulled out a nine millimeter gun and in broad daylight shot LaShawn and his dog—dead. Five times each, if I remember correctly,” Kat said. “I do not think you can call that an accident.”
“Rashod a.k.a. X, only meant to shoot LaShawn’s pain in the ass yappin’ dog. LaShawn lost his damn mind and got out there all between the bullets and the dog. Which, in my professional medical opinion, is not very bright.”
“Why were we talking about Rashod a.k.a. X?” Kat asked, utterly confused.
“Because I’m just sayin’ if that little Briseis and all the rest of the milquetoast white chippies around here are oh so scared of your boy, I think they could use a little fieldtrip to North Tulsa to chat with some of the brothers to straighten them right up. Truly, Kat, how scary could Achilles be?”
“It’s not Achilles,” Kat said slowly. “He’s not scary. He’s sexy and kind of sad and lonely. It’s the berserker they’re afraid of, and they should be. I got a glimpse of him, Jacky. He hadn’t even fully possessed Achilles, and it was awful.”
“Katrina Marie, did he hurt you?” Jacky moved instantly into the persona Kat liked to think of as Super Nurse.
“No. I, uh, ran.”
Jacky’s blond brows met the hairline of her flowing tresses. “You ran. As in away from him, across the beach, with your bosoms floppin’?”
Kat looked down at her young chest. “I don’t think these bosoms flopped much. They’re almost unnaturally perky. But, yes.”
“So you raped him as some kind of twisted revenge scheme? It’s borderline brilliant, but still very stank of you.”
“Look. I did not rape him. The whole thing was really an accident.”
“Oh, yeah, like Rashod a.k.a. X’s unfortunate murder one accident.”
“No, not like that. I was trying to relax him. Apparently Achilles doesn’t sleep, or at least not much.”
“So you, what, gave him a relaxing blow job and that made you come? You’re seriously more desperate than I thought.”
“Again, no. I didn’t give him a blow job nor am I desperate, Jacqueline. I hypnotized him.”
“And then came the blow job?”
“No! I didn’t blow him. I jerked him off. But not before I’d taken my pleasure from him,” Kat said with a satisfied smile.
“You sat on his face while he was hypnotized? Guys can do that when they’re under?”
“I didn’t sit on his face! God, you’re nasty beyond belief.”
“Oh, please. I’m not nasty; I’m a nurse. This is all clinical to me. Pretend like you’re at the doctor’s office. What happened?”
“I, uh, rubbed myself against his, uh, pee pee,” Kat said, feeling her cheeks get hot.
Jacky fell back against the cushions and burst into gales of giggles. “Oh, god, you said pee pee!”
“Would you stop!” Kat shoved her friend’s shoulder. “Look, I really didn’t mean for it to happen, but there he was all naked and muscular and angsty, and then I touched his scars, and then his, uh, penis”—she enunciated the word carefully, glaring at Jacky who unsuccessfully tried to stifle a giggle—“got all hard and he said he wanted me to keep touching him and I did. And I did not shtup him because I was worried that the berserker would show up. Plus, if you want to get all technical about it, he wasn’t exactly one-hundred percent himself.”
“As in not exactly conscious?”
“Whatever. So that’s what happened. The end. Could we please change the subject?”
“You know, this whole hypnotize-’em-and-make-’em-service-you thing is really an excellent idea. Think you could teach me how to do it?”
“Absolutely no way in hell.”
“Well, there is a rumor going around that we might be in hell, so you want to rethink that answer?”
“No. And now to officially change the subject—how’s Patroklos and what did you do last night?”
“I, not being as stank as you, slept. And my white boy is fine, thank you. At least I’m assuming he is. He was gone when I woke up this morning.” Jacky’s lineless brow furrowed. “I suppose I should find him and be sure he hasn’t gotten those stitches dirty or whatnot.”
“In other words, Patroklos stayed passed out all night.”
“Totally.”
“That ‘totally’ sounded kinda wistful.”
“Kat, you are displacing your stankish-ness on me. I’m not interested in the white boy like that.”
“Oh, that’s right. He’s all tall and young and muscular and handsome. Icky. Who would be interested in that?”
“He’s white. White boys think I have too much ass and attitude.”
“Uh, Jacky, you’re currently a skinny white girl, remember? So all you have is too much attitude.”
“Please. I’m in denial. What say we get something to eat and I work on filling out this skinny ass?”
“Good idea. I’m starving.”
“Rampant stankness will do that to you.”
“Jacqueline, your blond and flowing tresses are looking rather disheveled this morning. If you’re not good I won’t tell you how to deal with them.”
“Fresh,” Jacky muttered as Kat dressed. “So damn fresh…”
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kat and Jacky were munching cheese and olives and some kind of fried swine, and as a side dish arguing about the ethics of hypnotism, when Aetnia, the maid who had recognized her the night before as princess, went rushing by, and then paused when she saw Kat.
“What is it, Aetnia? Where’s everyone going?” Kat asked.
“The men are drilling by the beach, Princess. I’m—I’m sure Achilles would wish for you to come, too.” Then she scampered away.
“Last night he certainly seemed like he wished for me to come, too,” Kat said smugly.
“Really? You mean when he was conscious or afterward?”
“Both,” Kat lied.
“Well, then, let’s go check him out. Unless you’re scared to face him whilst he’s actually walking and talking.” Jacky jumped up and started quickly after the disappearing maidservant.
“He was talking last night,” Kat muttered and pulled a face, but followed Jacky anyway.
“I mean, I for one would love to see if he’s still under your diabolical spell.”
Three women who were headed in the same direction as them gave Kat fearful looks and began whispering amongst themselves as they overheard Jacky’s words.
“There is no spell, you dork,” Kat said loud enough for the huddling women to overhear. Then she lowered her voice for Jacky only. “The hypnosis ended when he woke up this morning—refreshed, and hopefully, good as new.”
“And just exactly what is he going to remember about last night?”
Kat grinned. “Only as much as he wants to.”
“Okay, that’s diabolical,” Jacky said.
“No that’s ingenious,” Kat countered.
Jacky gave her a dubious look, but they were both too busy climbing over dunes to bicker with any enthusiasm. Then the sandy, grassy mini-hills gave way to a smooth, wide beach that was filled with—
“Seminaked men!” Jacky trilled.
“With swords,” Kat purred. “It is a romance novel!”
“Hey, there’s your boy.”
Jacky’s pointing finger called Kat’s attention to the largest group of men. In the center of the group was Achilles, stripped to the waist and circled by four men. They were in full armor, even though Achilles was practically naked, holding only his shield and a weird-looking short sword.
“Damn, he has muscles on his muscles,” Jacky said. “And I don’t know how the hell he survived those wounds. No wonder they say he’s immortal.”
“Is that what they say?” Kat whispered as they joined the other women who were sitting on driftwood watching the men.
Jacky shrugged. “I overheard some stuff last night. The Myrmidons talk about him like he’s a god.”
“He’s not. He’s just a man,” Kat said firmly, and then tried not to wince as two of the four men lunged at Achilles. She needn’t have worried about him. His reactions were so fast he seemed to belie her words. He dodged aside, spun and smacked both men smartly on their asses with the flat part of his sword. The watching Myrmidons broke into loud guffaws, complete with crude comments. Achilles’ answering grin was surprisingly good-humored and he gestured for the other two warriors to come on. They lunged. Achilles moved to the side and easily parried with his eagle-crested shield. The warriors backed off and Kat realized why his sword looked weird—it was wooden.
“He’s not even using a real sword!” Kat told Jacky.
As if he heard her, Achilles’ startlingly blue eyes looked up from the circling warriors directly to her. Kat saw the surprise that widened his eyes, and then felt the electric snap of attraction that sizzled between them. At that moment one of the warriors struck and Achilles was late in his reaction. The warrior’s sword blade skimmed lightly down Achilles’ chest, leaving a thin ribbon of scarlet, before he slapped it aside with the nonlethal wooden sword. With a growl, Achilles dropped into a crouch. Kat noticed the change in the surrounding warriors at once. The circle backed off and the men who were sparring with Achilles seemed to hold their breath. She watched Achilles take deep gulps of air as he obviously fought against the onrush of the berserker.
Then there was a flash of silver-blond and a tall figure detached himself from the retreating circle. Completely unarmed, Patroklos walked purposefully up to Achilles, making a surreptitious motion to the other two warriors to back off. His smile was clearly reflected in his voice and he spoke nonchalantly, as if he had no idea Achilles was struggling with becoming a monster.
“They say, cousin, that none can beat you in a wrestling match. I say that’s because they do not have the inside knowledge of a kinsman.”
Slowly Achilles’ body straightened out of the feral crouch. Kat saw his lips twitch up slightly. “And what inside knowledge would that be, kinsman?”
“That you are like a great snapping turtle. Dangerous and unpredictable, but helpless when you’ve been pushed on your back.”
As Achilles laughed, Patroklos launched himself at the older man and, just like that, the shadow of the berserker was gone and the men were cheering again as the cousins grappled in the sand.
“If that damn stupid white boy rips open my stitches I’m gonna strangle him.” Jacky stood up, obviously preparing to march into the group of men and pull Achilles and Patroklos apart.
Kat snagged her wrist and pulled her back down beside her. “You are so not going down there to yell at Patroklos in the middle of all of that testosterone and me-Tarzan, you-Jane mentality.”
Jacky stayed seated but grumbled, “I’m gonna be pissed if he messes up those stitches.”
“Oh, relax. Achilles will make sure he doesn’t hurt himself,” Kat said automatically, and then as she continued to watch she realized how right she’d been. They were putting on a good show. The two men were tossing each other around and being highly entertaining, but Kat could tell that Achilles was definitely avoiding Patroklos’s injured shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll just admit it,” Jacky said. “There is something completely sexy about all this warrior machoness. I mean, look at them. They’re all bare chested and muscular and sweaty and oh, so ‘I’m gonna bang my chest and kill the dragon for you’ that it makes me want to let him ravish me.”
“Him?” Kat asked with a waggle of her brows. “Who him?”
“Patroklos, of course. Don’t get fresh.”
“And did you say ravish? Since when could anyone ravish you?”
“Since I turned white.”
Kat was laughing when Aetnia and two other servants approached her. All of them gave a little curtsey/bow.
“Excuse me, Princess.” Aetnia spoke in a low, whispery voice while throwing furtive looks over her shoulder at the group of men. “You should know that we are willing to do your bidding at any time. Simply say the word and we will aid you in escaping.”
“Escaping?” Jacky frowned at them. “We’re not escapin’.”
The women looked at Jacky as if she had sprouted wings. One of them began to rub something that looked like a penis amulet that hung from a braided hemp rope around her neck as she quickly backed a couple steps away.
“That’s really nice of you, but like I said last night, I’m fine,” Kat said. Before Jacky’s feathers could ruffle she amended, “We’re fine. Honestly. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”
“Princess, I—” Aetnia began.
“You’re being all annoyin’? Is that what you were gettin’ ready to say?” Jacky interrupted with a saccharine smile. “’Cause you definitely are.”
The woman who was still clutching the penis amulet suddenly said, “Melia, you were not a healer in the palace. You were only the princess’s servant.”
“I’ve changed,” Jacky said in her take-no-prisoners voice.
“Melia has always had many talents,” Kat said, elbowing Jacky. A stirring in the group of men caught the edge of Kat’s vision. “Speaking of, it looks like the wrestling match is over and Melia had better check out Patroklos’s stitches. So I’ll see you later, ladies.” She grabbed Jacky’s arm and hauled her away from the women. “Jacky, those women know you,” Kat whispered to her.
“Those women do not know me.”
“They know you.” Kat fluttered her hand at Jacky’s new body.
“Oh. I forgot. So?”
“So we don’t need the drama trauma of a bunch of war prizes freaking over the fact that you and I aren’t who or what we appear to be.”
“What difference does it make? Like you said, we’re not gonna be here very long. Plus, you’re a princess. They’re servants. They can’t do shit to you.”
“That doesn’t—”
“Little Melia! My savior! Just in time to wipe up my blood!”
Patroklos grabbed Jacky, lifted her in his arms and kissed her soundly. Kat stared, mouth flopping, as Jacky giggled, pushed half-heartedly against him and blushed a gorgeous shade of pink. “Put me down before you mess up my stitches. And where the hell are you bleeding now?”
“It isn’t me this time. It’s him.” Patroklos jerked his chin at Achilles. “But I still want you to mop the blood from me, my beautiful little war bride.” He put Jacky down, but not before kissing her again.
Jacky took a shaky step away from Patroklos, and still blushing, turned to Achilles. “Let me look at that sword wound.”
“It is nothing.” Achilles made an abrupt gesture with his hand, cutting off Jacky’s advance. “Worry about his stitches. I’ll mind my own wound.”
Jacky shrugged. “Whatever.” She glanced at Kat as she turned back to examine the smiling Patroklos’s stitches. “You should probably make sure it’s clean.”
“I do not—” Achilles began.
Kat squared her shoulders and finally looked at him. “It needs to be cleaned out.” Their eyes met. Kat wished like hell that his face was easier to read. At the moment all she saw was the guarded mask he liked to show the public.
“I thought you did not like the sight of blood,” Achilles said.
“All the more reason to clean it off,” Kat said, trying not to be too glad he remembered she didn’t like blood.
“Very well,” Achilles said.
“It doesn’t look deep,” Jacky said, peering around Patroklos’s shoulder. “Saltwater should work fine.”
“There’s an ocean of that right there. Perhaps, cousin, you should take another swim?” Patroklos put his arm around Jacky as he grinned at Kat.
Kat looked from Patroklos to Achilles and wondered just exactly what he’d told his cousin about last night.
Jacky, who had neatly sidestepped Patroklos’s grasping arm said, “Do not start with me. You’re covered with sweat and sand and his blood. You need a swim, too.”
“Then we all go!” Patroklos took Jacky’s hand and started off down the beach. Kat looked at Achilles. He raised a brow at her.
