Styxx (Dark-Hunter 22)

Still, it was one of the kindest things anyone had ever offered where he was concerned. "Thanks, but that's all right. I just need a moment to sit and try to remember how to breathe." Styxx leaned over the water to splash his face and wash some of the blood and sweat away. His hand shook as his stomach heaved from the agony of it all.

In one heartbeat, against his best efforts, he collapsed into the water. It took several seconds before he was able to push himself back to the bank. Great ... now I'm covered with mud, too. Leave it to him to look like a complete, incompetent ass in front of the most beautiful girl he'd ever met.

One who wasn't trying to molest him.

She crawled toward him, patting gently against the ground until she located his leg. Slowly, she made her way up his hip and back to his shoulder and then head. She pulled back the moment she touched his cheek. "You're bleeding."

"Sorry ... here..." He ripped a part of his chiton off and used it to clean her hand for her.

She frowned at his actions. "Why are you cleaning my hand when you're the one bleeding?"

"I didn't want you to soil your gown."

"But you're bleeding." She was incredulous.

"It's all right. Really. I do that a lot."

She took his makeshift cloth from his hand to the water and dampened it then returned to gently bathe his injured cheek.

Lying on his back, Styxx closed his eyes at the tenderness of her graceful hand on his skin. She smelled like lilies and eucalyptus. Of warmth and sunshine. And a part of him wondered if her glowing, flawless skin would taste as sweet as it appeared. "What's your name?"

"Bethany."

He repeated it silently, savoring the beautiful syllables of a name he'd never heard before.

"And you are?"

He caught himself before he automatically answered. Like hers, his name was unusual, especially for a man. If she heard it, she'd know immediately who he was, and he didn't want her to hate him the way everyone else did. To her, he wasn't the spoiled, idiot prince. He was just ...

An incompetent, idiot commoner.

"Hector."

She smiled at him. "Hector, do you know where your horse is?"

"I fear he went in search of a more competent rider who wouldn't embarrass him in the future."

She laughed out loud. A light, sweet sound that made his heart skip a beat. She pressed her lips together. "How can you joke when you're in so much pain?"

"To hear you laugh, my lady, I'd gladly throw myself off a hundred cliffs."

Cocking her head, she frowned. "Are you flirting with me, Hector?"

Was he?

"I ... I don't know."

She widened her hazel-gold eyes. "You don't know?"

"I'm not exactly experienced with women, my lady. I don't normally converse with them. So I'm not sure if this would be considered flirting or not."

She pulled back to rinse out the cloth. "What do you do that you're not around women?"

Ah ... damn. What did normal people do? Did men interact with women in a regular life? He had no way of knowing.

"I ... um ... I work with my father. The only girl I'm around is my sister and we don't really talk. And I definitely don't flirt with her."

"I should hope not." Smiling again, she moved her hand down his neck, feeling for more injuries. In spite of the excruciating pain he was in, her touch set fire to his blood. He couldn't explain it, but there was something familiar and comforting about her. As if he'd known her forever.

"Why are you here alone, Bethany? Is there no one watching over you?"

She pulled back.

He caught her hand in his and held it gently. "I-I didn't mean it that way. I merely worry that you're here with no protector."

"I have my knife."

"And I admire that about you, but..."

"I come here often to sit and fish. Usually no one disturbs me."

No doubt the last thing she wanted was a cursed, bleeding whore to ruin the rest of her morning. "Forgive me, my lady." Styxx rolled to his side to leave.

"Hector? What are you doing?"

"I'll leave you to your peace. I know what it's like to need time alone and not have it. Forgive my intrusion on yours."

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and nudged him back down. "You're not intruding. Now lie still and let me make sure nothing's broken. If it is, I shall go get help and be back."

"I'm really quite fine, my lady. I've already limped and crawled a good distance. I just need a moment to rest before I continue on my way." Sucking his breath in, he placed his hand to his eye.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, my lady. I have headaches that plague me often, and as my luck would ever have it, I have one trying to cleave my skull in half right now. 'Cause I'm just not in enough pain to suit the gods."

She tsked. "Poor Hector. Here..." Ignoring the fact he was dripping wet, she lifted his head and placed it in her lap. "I've been told that I have a healing touch when it comes to such things."

He started to deny it, but the moment she sank her hands into his damp hair and began to rub his scalp, it lessened the agony immediately. The voices that ever tormented him grew so faint, he could barely hear them. Even her thoughts were hidden from him. It was so wonderful to hear nothing ...

Sighing in blissful peace, he closed his eyes and savored her sweet scent and her precious, soothing touch. For the first time in his life, even though he was wet, bleeding, and injured, he was warm and content.

He took a deep breath of her sweet smell and smiled.

Bethany paused as she realized Hector had fallen asleep in her lap while she played in his soft curls. Should I be offended? But then he was hurt badly. Even though he'd denied it, she had felt his numerous injuries and the blood that stained his clothes and skin. She could smell it.

As a goddess, she had the power to heal him, but refrained. It would make him suspicious, and even though he was nothing more than a mere human, she'd enjoyed their peculiar brief exchange. No one had ever been so preciously sweet with her. So considerate. Not unless they wanted something, and she despised such false people.

She preferred to be liked for herself, not for her powers or favors.

But that was the way it worked. People groveled, gods bartered, and she never had a moment's peace from their machinations and schemes. It was why she came here whenever she could to be alone with her thoughts and pretend for a while that she was normal ...

Whatever normal was.

Closing her eyes, she tried to picture what her mysterious Hector looked like. If she went into her goddess form, she'd be able to see him. But then she might be terribly disappointed. He was human after all, and she was used to the extraordinary beauty of the gods.

No. Better to use her imagination than risk finding out he was a hideous toad. Besides, if she appeared as a god in Greece, the Olympians would throw down a tantrum. Gods didn't handle other gods invading their territories without an express invitation well. And they had enough trouble with Greece. They didn't need a war to break out over some peasant boy and her curiosity.

She carefully brushed her hands over him. His face was finely boned and perfectly proportioned. He had a long aquiline nose and hair as soft as a bird's wing. It curled around her fingers and the manly stubble along his jaw teased her flesh. His lips were full and soft, unlike his body that was rock hard and toned. By the length of his arms and size of his hands, she could tell he was as tall as a god, or an Atlantean. But his accent had been decidedly Greek. His voice deep, husky, and pleasant.

Given that he was Greek, she shouldn't even be talking to him. While they were no longer at war with the Greeks, their truce was a very fragile thing and she didn't trust the Greeks not to break it.

Any day now, they could be back at war.

But her Hector wasn't a politician and he wasn't a god. No god would ever be stranded in the poor shape he was in.

He would need his horse to get home.

Using as little of her powers as she could, she searched the ether until she found it and then she called it to her. It took a few minutes, but finally the horse came and nudged her shoulder.

"You were wicked to throw your master," she said gently to the horse. "Try not to hurt him in the future."

The horse whinnied then went off to graze. Bethany hummed and sang while Hector slumbered peacefully in her lap. She didn't know why, but his presence soothed her even though he was unconscious. There had been something so sweetly sincere about him. So innocent and honest. Humble.

Things she was not used to.

While she'd taken a handful of lovers through the centuries, none had ever made her feel like this ...