Part II CHAPTER 1
ACHERON Present Day
You'll never see the moments coming that will forever mutilate your life-at least not until after they've mowed you down.
-SAVITAR
CHAPTER 1
October 21, 2008
The Parthenon
Nashville, Tennessee
6:30 p.m., Tuesday
Acheron teleported himself into the main room where the statue of Athena stood, covered in gold. Because of the lecture that was going to start in a few minutes in another part of the Parthenon, the statue area had been closed off.
He should probably obey the rules, but why? It was one of the few perks he had from being a god.
Casts of the original Elgin marbles stood at stations that lined the walls on both sides. Even though the interior of the Parthenon wasn't exactly the way it'd been in ancient Greece, he'd always loved to come here. Something about it comforted him. And any time he was in Nashville, he made sure to stop in and visit.
He moved to the center of the room so that he could look up at the artist's rendition of the goddess Athena. It looked nothing like her. Raven-haired and pale, Athena was as frail in appearance as she was striking. But those looks were definitely deceiving. As a war goddess, Athena could pack a punch as hefty as any man.
"Acheron . . ." the statue said, coming to life before him. "Tell me what it is you seek."
He rolled his eyes. "A night away from you, Artemis. It's not like you don't know that."
She came out of the statue to stand in front of him at her natural height. "Oh, you're no fun."
"Yeah, right. Sorry. The statue thing lost its humor eleven thousand years ago. It hasn't become any more appealing over time."
Crossing her arms over her chest, she pouted. "You just blow all the fun out of everything."
Ash let out a slow, impatient breath. "Suck, Artemis. The phrase is 'suck all the fun.' "
"Blowing, sucking. Same difference."
He scoffed as he walked past her to look at the casts against the wall. "No, it isn't. Take it from someone with intimate knowledge of the two."
She screwed her face up at him. "I hate it when you're crude."
Which was exactly why he did it. Unfortunately, all the crudity in the world wasn't enough to drive her away from him. "Why are you here?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Why are you here?" She dogged his every step.
Again, he moved away from his least favorite stalker. "There's some archaeologist who thinks she's found Atlantis. I was curious so here I am."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh this I have to see. I love it when you go for the vernacular."
"Jugular," he corrected between clenched teeth. Too bad he didn't have the same enthusiasm. He hated to take anyone's credibility from them, or worse, publicly embarrass them. But the last thing he needed was for the world to find Atlantis and then expose what he'd been there. For the first time in his existence he had people who looked at him with respect and who allowed him dignity.
If they ever knew . . .
He'd rather die again. No, better a sting to the professor's ego than to his. While he had moments of altruism, in this he didn't. No one would ever expose him again.
Artemis blinked in happy expectation. "Where is this lecture going to be?"
"Room down the hall."
She vanished.
Acheron shook his head. He took a few minutes to walk around the exhibit and smile at the modern world's interpretation of the past. How could humanity be so strangely astute and at the same time dense? Their perceptions swung from being unerringly accurate to downright ridiculous.
Then again, didn't all creatures suffer from that same dilemma?
"Dr. Kafieri?"
Soteria looked up at the docent who was watching her with a perplexed expression. Oh, please don't tell me I was talking out loud to myself. By the woman's face she knew the answer and hated having been caught . . . again. "Yes?"
"You've got a good crowd gathering. I just wanted to know if you needed some water for your presentation?"
Her gut knotted at those words. Good crowd. Yeesh. She hated crowds and public speaking. If not for the fact they needed funding for new equipment in Greece, she'd have never agreed to this. "Yes, please, but make sure it has a screw cap. I'm always spilling drinks when they don't."
The woman turned and left. Tory looked down at the notes she was reviewing, but the woman's words hung in her mind.
Good crowd. What an oxymoron for a woman who hated crowds. Her throat tight, she went to spy on the room.
Yeah, it was definitely a crowd. At least sixty people were there. She felt sick.
As she started to withdraw into the shadows, the door opened and in walked a man who took her breath away.
Unbelievably tall, he strode into the room as if he owned it. No, he didn't stride, he loped in like a seductive predator. Every woman in the room turned to stare at him. You couldn't help it. It was like he was a magnet for the eyes.
His long black hair held a streak of bright red in the front and framed a face so incredibly handsome that he'd be pretty if he didn't have such a rugged aura. It also made her want to know exactly what his eyes looked like, but since he wore a pair of opaque black Oakley sunglasses, she couldn't tell. Dressed in a long black distressed coat, he wore a dark gray hoodie underneath that was opened to show a Misfits T-shirt. His black pants were tucked into a pair of dark cherry red Doc Martens boots with skull and crossbone buckles going up each side.
Ignoring the women who ogled him, he shrugged a black leather backpack off his broad shoulder and set it on the floor by an aisle seat before he sat down. The leather was as worn as his coat and the backpack was marred with a white anarchy symbol and one of a sun pierced by three lightning bolts.
She didn't know what it was about those long legs stretching out in front of him that made her heartbeat speed up, but it did. He looked so masculine sitting there like that. With his large hands covered by black fingerless gloves, he pushed the sleeves of his coat up on his forearms, then leaned back in the chair, completely at ease. She caught a glimpse of a red and black dragon tattoo on his left arm. He also had a small silver stud pierced through his right nostril, as well as a tiny silver hoop in his left ear.