Broken Heart 10 Some Lycan Hot by Michele Bardsley Read Free Book Online Page A

done in a beehive-style.
    “Wow. You guys are seriously naked. Nice package, dude.” She pushed on his shoulder and he sank onto the bed behind him. He felt someone bump into him, and stared at the nude woman who looked as dazed as he felt. Who was she?
    “Who are you?” she asked.
    “Oh, shit. Look, kiddos, I don’t have time to explain.” The purple-haired girl brandished a vial filled with sparkling gold liquid. “Drink.”
    She pushed the end of the glass tube into his mouth. He was so startled that he automatically drank. Whatever it was tasted sweet like honey. He watched her toss the rest of the liquid into the lady’s mouth.
    “Here’s the part where you go night-nights,” she said.
    Darrius fell backward, his eyes fluttering closed. Just before he passed out, he felt the woman fall against his chest. He curled an arm around her—and they slept.
     
    “TURN OFF YOUR radiance,” demanded Aphrodite. “I’m getting a migraine.”
    The light around Nemesis blinked out. The goddess of wrath looked a lot less fierce without her blinding illumination. “What are you doing here, Aphrodite?” she asked. She looked at Daphne and rolled her eyes. “Still hanging out with plant life, I see.”
    Daphne gave her the finger.
    “Watch it, nymph, or I’ll banish you to Hades.”
    “You stole my apple!” interrupted Aphrodite.
    “I did not. I’m allowed to use any and all objects of magical or mystical origin and/or creation to fulfill my obligations in my designated job.”
    “Do not quote me canon from the Laws of Zeus. Those haven’t been relevant for centuries.”
    “Whatever! How did you find me, anyway?”
    “I followed your trail of glistening self-righteousness. It looks exactly like snail slime.” Aphrodite glared at Nemesis. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    “My job. I’m the goddess of wrath, remember? ”
    “ I heard the conversation,” said Aphrodite. “You’re just pissed off she got out of your bargain. You hate to lose.”
    “So do you!”
    “Well, at least I don’t prance through the mortal world throwing vengeance around like it’s confetti.” Aphrodite buffed the apple on her sleeve. “You know that boy is the son of Tark and Aufanie. We have to attend social functions with them!”
    “I hate those anyway.”
    “Quit using the apple to curse love,” demanded Aphrodite. “It’s petty and childish.”
    “I dispensed justice.” She snapped her fingers, and the apple disappeared from Aphrodite’s grasp. Nemesis laughed, and then she disappeared as quickly and seamlessly as the apple she’d stolen. Again.
    Aphrodite let out a sound of frustration and stamped her foot. “I’d like to take that sword and shove it right up her—”
    “The werewolves are waking up.” Daphne patted her boss’s shoulder. “We gotta give them the bad news.”
    “A conversation that will need tea.”
    “You mean tequila.”
     
    ALAYA, DARRIUS, AND Aphrodite sat the living room, sipping chamomile tea sweetened with honey. Daphne had served the tea and disappeared. Literally.
    On the couch, Alaya was tucked in beside Darrius, his arm around her shoulders. She’d forgotten how affectionate he was, and how much she enjoyed feeling loved and protected.
    Aphrodite had taken the oversized, stuffed chair to the left of the couch. She looked very much like a queen sitting in her throne. She sipped tea and offered them a reassuring smile.
    “We’ve been cursed,” said Darrius. “By your apple.”
    “The apple of discord, but it’s even worse than that.” Aphrodite looked abashed. She put down her teacup. “The apple was a prize in a beauty contest between myself, Athena, and Hera. The judge was a Trojan prince named Paris. We all offered him bribes, and mine was to give him the most beautiful woman in the world.” Aphrodite sighed. “Not my finest moment. Paris gave me the apple. I gave him Helen of Sparta.” Aphrodite pinched her fingers together. “She was a teensy bit