Ash laughed.
Artemis, however, looked less than pleased as she made her way down to Tory.
Tory tightened her grip on the package that Artemis had sent to her, ready to fight to the end of time to keep the journal out of Artemis's hands again.
"I thought for sure you'd use that to save face."
Tory shrugged. "I loved my father more than anything. But as much as it pains me to admit it, I know he's dead. Ash isn't. Better everyone laugh at me than they laugh at him."
Artemis looked incredulous that she'd say such a thing. "You really do love him, don't you?"
"More than my life."
"And more than your dignity." There was a note of respect in her voice. Artemis turned to glance at Ash. When she looked back at Tory, there were tears in her eyes. "Take care of him, Soteria. Give him what I couldn't." She gave one light squeeze to her hand before she turned away.
Ash stood up as Artemis approached him. He saw the longing in her eyes as she started to touch him, but even now she couldn't bring herself to do so in public.
"I want you and your human to have a good life. But I do want you to remember one thing."
"And that is?"
"There will never be another Dark-Hunter who goes free. Your happiness comes at the expense of their freedom because there's no one else I want to barter with. No one else to pay the fee you set up centuries ago. Knowing that, I hope you sleep well at night."
Ash ground his teeth in rage of her coldness as she walked away. He started after her, but Tory stopped him.
"Let her go, Ash. We have the journal. Her Atlantikoinonia have been neutralized and my team is none the wiser about our search. They just think we've changed directions. All in all, we've done well."
"But what about the Dark-Hunters?"
She smiled with a newfound optimism. "The one thing I've learned most out of all this is that it's not over until all the cards are played. She laid down her ace, thinking we can't beat it. But there are fifty-one other cards in the deck and the game isn't over yet. We'll figure something out. Her little fit right now just shows that she's played her best hand. That was all she's capable of doing to hurt you which is exactly why she did it. Don't let her ruin your day, baby, and don't let her take from us what we have. We've gotten this far together. What's another bitter goddess to us? Like my papou always says, over, under, around or through. There's always a way and we'll find it."
By his features she could tell he was impressed. "How can a woman so young be so wise?"
"I'm an old soul."
"And I'm a lucky man to have you."
She smiled as she handed him Ryssa's journal. "Yes, you are. But that's okay. I'm a lucky woman to have you."
"I still say one of you people like people should let the Simi eat the heifer-goddess. She be good eats. The Simi would even share her with her sister."
Laughing, Ash took Tory's hand and once the room was cleared, he flashed her to Katoteros. Simi flounced off to watch TV.
Without a word, he pulled Tory through the throne room toward the ballroom that hadn't been used since his mother destroyed the Atlantean pantheon.
Tory frowned as Ash turned around and walked backwards while smiling at her. The doors opened at his approach and the minute he was inside the huge dark room his clothes changed to vintage 1978 punk, complete with black combat boots, ripped jeans, a torn Union Jack T-shirt and a black motorcycle jacket with chains and an anarchy symbol emblazoned on the back.
"What are you doing?" The words had barely left her lips before her own clothes changed to the same exact dress her mother had worn the night she'd met her father.
The doors closed, sealing them into darkness. An instant later a light came on to showcase a silver mirrored ball at the same time Donna Summer's "Last Dance" started playing. The floor under her feet lit up like a 1970s disco as Ash twirled her under his arm.
Smiling at her, he began to sing, "I need you. By me. Beside me . . . to guide me. To hold me. To scold me . . ."
She laughed even as tears of happiness stung her eyes. As the beat picked up, he danced with her until she was outright crying and laughing to the point she was sure she must look insane.
The fact that he'd recreate this memory for her even though he hated her music with a passion . . .
He was the best ever.
She laughed as he moved flawlessly around the dance floor with her. "You would give John Travolta a run for his money."
"Yeah and I'm sorry about my clothes. I tried, but I just couldn't bring myself to wear that. Hell, I couldn't do the disco look even when it was popular. I swear I'm allergic to polyester. Thank God for the punk movement. Otherwise I'd have been naked for a decade."
She laughed as she tried to imagine him in a green leisure suit. No, it definitely didn't work.
She much preferred thinking of him naked. But only when they were alone.
"So what would you have worn back in the days when you were human?"
"A bedsheet."
Tory nodded as she thought about it. "See I knew that's what they made chitons out of. Geary said I was crazy, but I always suspected as much."
Ash froze as he realized that she hadn't understood his reference to being a whore. She merely thought he was describing the fabric of his clothes. To her, he was a man. Nothing more and definitely nothing less.
Lifting her up and twirling around with her, he held her close, savoring the way that she never reminded him of his past.
And when he set her down, she was dressed as an Atlantean princess.
Tory gasped at her long, flowing gown. Bright blue, it fell in pleats from a deeper blue underbust bodice that was covered with pearls and sapphires. But what made her face flame bright was the sheer material that barely covered her breasts. Her nipples were plainly visible. "Oh no! Tell me they didn't wear this."
Nodding, he turned her to face a mirror that appeared out of nowhere so that she could see the entire outfit as they swayed together. Gold chains draped from her bare shoulders to her elbows and her hair, which was curled into ringlets, was covered with a gorgeous gold headpiece. Tory stared at herself, adoring the clothes but hating that she was too tall, too skinny and too plain to do them justice.
And as she looked at Ash over her shoulder, still dressed as a punk rocker, she wanted to weep. He was gorgeous and she looked like the booby prize.
"Ash," she said, her voice catching, "can you do one thing for me?"
"Anything, Sota. You name it and it's yours."
"Make me beautiful."
He turned her to face him and he laid a kiss on her lips that set fire to her blood. Pulling back, he smiled down at her. "There you go. You're the most beautiful woman in the world."
Tory spun back to the mirror, dying to see what she looked like.
As she saw herself, she scowled.
She hadn't changed. "Ash!"
"What?" he asked innocently, pulling her back against his front so that he could stare at her in the mirror.
"You didn't do anything."
His gaze met hers and the sincerity in those swirling silver eyes scorched her. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Soteria. This is the woman I fell in love with and there's nothing about you I'd ever change."
Leaning back against him, she reached up to touch his cheek. "Really?"
"Absolutely. And I hope that one day, we have a houseful of kids who look just like you."