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Joy In Love (Daughters of Cupid Book 1) Page 7


  We headed back to our other halves. I ate, and Arthur traded my white wine for his glass of water. He was a saint in disguise.

  Finished with the wine tasting, we were free to explore outside the castle and were invited to the winery’s shop. Damen explained the virtue of good wine, and Marisol added into the conversation with Arthur and another couple as they browsed the wine selections.

  Slowly, I drifted back. I browsed the olive oil. The darker and thicker the container, the better to keep the sunlight from taking out all the goodness in the oil. There were too many people in such a small shop. Damen’s dark thread wiggled inside me, and I went outside.

  Thankful, I wore a sweater, the Tuscan sun was warm, but the breeze felt cool. I wandered around the shop. Vines traveled up the side of the stone walls; the pale blue door of a storage building made me wish I had a camera like the rest of the tourist couples here to capture the beauty. I tried to burn the images in my mind for those never-ending moments when I became trapped in Tartarus’s abyss.

  I walked alongside the road. The shop on one side, the castle on the other. I imagined what it would be like to tie my horse to one of the rings in the castle wall, or what the rest of the castle looked like inside. I found myself below the grapevines. There was a chair for sitting and lounging to look at the view. Breathtaking. It was the only way to describe it. I looked out over the fields, the dips, the houses. I wrapped my arms around me. One more day, and I could have spread wings and disappeared.

  Damen had me trapped in more ways than one.

  I tried sending out a beacon to my sisters; I hadn’t heard from them since I left the estate with Damen. Nothing but silence on their part.

  “Psst! Joy!”

  I glanced over. Giles stood behind a tree, waving at me. He was three times wider than the tree, but he motioned for me to come over. I tried not to laugh.

  “Joy!” he hissed.

  “I’m coming,” I said. No sense in whispering or trying to hide. “What are you doing?”

  “Is the big bloke here? I didn’t see him.”

  “Jace? Are you afraid of him?”

  “The faun messed with my horns!” Giles huffed.

  “Oh, please! You’re bigger than him!”

  “My horns, Joy. Women love them. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

  I patted his shoulder. “There, there, big guy.” Truth be told, my half-brother was a lover, not a fighter. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

  “Are you going to help me or what?”

  Giles glanced over my shoulder. “He’s coming.”

  I followed his look, nobody, nothing. “Who? Damen? I don’t see him.”

  “No. Our sisters were to tell you.” He leaned around the tree, keeping watch.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Eros.” Giles gave me an incredulous look as if I should know. “He’s coming.”

  My father was coming? I’d meet him in the flesh? My heart picked up a little, and my harmony meter rose. “He’s coming for me?”

  “It’s not like that.” Giles pressed his lips together.

  “Then what is it like?” I spied people coming out from around the wine shop. Something in the way the dark thread tightened inside me, I felt Damen coming near.

  “We’re not to interfere. Not me or the others.” Giles straightened against the tree. Poor bloke actually thought he was hiding.

  My sisters hadn’t been ignoring me. They couldn’t come, but why?

  “Why? Why can’t you help me? Why can’t they come and get me out of here?”

  Giles shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’m always close. I can’t do anything unless he tries to harm you.”

  “Harm me? He has a dark thread in me, Giles,” I said between gritted teeth. And at the mention of Damen, there he was, strolling toward me.

  Giles's eyes filled with pain as if someone had punched him. “I got to go. It creeps up my arms and sucks the life from me when I’m too close.”

  I glanced behind me, and when I looked back, Giles was gone. Sneaky satyr.

  I took a moment to pull myself together. I have seen my half-brother afraid of very little in my lifetime. It irked me to know Damen and his goon Jace had instilled fear in his gentle soul. Eros better come.

  And if my sisters didn’t start talking to me again, I’d melt against the pressure inside my chest as it grew tense. If no one could save me, I’d have to save myself.

  With a man like Damen, he would either fall in love again with someone else, or I’d die trying.

  13

  Back at the mansion, as soon as I took two steps into the foyer, Damen said, “No shoes in the house.”

  A bad mood had been brewing since we left the castle. I refused to speak with him, pulling out all the stops to reach one of my sisters. Nothing. No static, so all I could think of was that Damen had found another way to block them out. How? Even though Giles warned me they couldn’t help, that didn’t mean I couldn’t speak with them. Or did it?

  Damen stood there with his hand out, and there was no way I was giving up these sweet boots. “Everyone else here has shoes on their feet. Why can’t I?”

  He got a smirk on his face. “My house. My rules, Cherub.”

  “Give me my sandals back, I’ll give you the boots.”

  His smirk turned into a full grin, complete with the flashing of his pearly whites. Oh, be still my heart. He made it flutter. I hated that it betrayed me.

  “You talk as if you have room to negotiate.”

  “What are you going to do? Lock me in my room and deny me supper?” Not even with Cherish did I ever feel this childish to argue.

  Damen marched toward me. I stood my ground. His eyes swirled with darkness, but there was a bit of color around the outer rim. Blue. It took me by surprise. “I bet Marisol got to keep her shoes in the house, or did you take hers, too?”

  At the mention of his lost love, Damen’s jaw tightened, and the cord of muscle down his neck grew taut. “Marisol is a woman of exceptional tastes. She never had want for anything. She gave most of what she had; she asked for very little in return.”

  “And if she asked?”

  "She did, for the one thing I couldn’t control.”

  My heart slowed along with his. “Chaos thrives in darkness. You’re a creature of the night, and your beloved didn’t care for the nightlife much, did she?”

  Damen’s facial features relaxed. His eyes gazed at me with a longing—I couldn’t tell whether for me or the time he had lost with his beloved. It was better for me not to dwell on such a thing. Getting attached to a man like Damen De Santis would only cause me greater pain. I pitied him. And for whatever reasons, he had loved and lost, and he couldn’t see another chance to love again in his path. For one like him, mortals came and went. Why would he want to hold on to this one so desperately?

  Guilt? Did a man made of Chaos possess such a non-self-centered emotion? Or was it what Marisol had wanted that he couldn’t give? Commitment? A family? Life beyond this Italian mansion? Had she felt as trapped as I?

  Jace walked down the hall. He paused near the stairs. An invisible pinch at my flesh made me flinch, thinking of the last time he came to my room.

  “The boots, Cherub. Unless you’d prefer Jace to help you in removing them.”

  Avoiding giving Jace a second look, I asked Damen, “And if I want you to help me?”

  His thumb brushed against my cheek. I lowered my lashes, my gaze dropping to those smug lips of his. “Be careful what you ask for, Cherub.”

  Stepping closer, I risked placing my hand on his chest. “I’m not afraid of you and your threats of darkness. If you want to give me to Tartarus, throw me in the abyss, go ahead. You can’t fight love, Damen. You can’t fight this.”

  And I kissed him. His fingers dug into my upper arms, and I tensed, waiting for him to shove me away. At first, his lips didn’t move, then he captured mine. I slid my hand up to his chest, to his shoulder. This guy had centuries of
experience kissing women, and he had skill. But at the first taste of wine, I tried to jerk back. Damen chuckled, his fingers biting into my arms. His hot breath moved against my ear. “Bin Santo Rosso. It’s rather bold, don’t you think? And here I thought you didn’t want to try it?”

  Damen released me, turned on his heel, and started down the hall. I stood, stunned, my hand going to my lips. What had I done?

  A sick feeling gathered in my stomach.

  “The boots, baby Cherub. Leave them where you found them, or Jace will see that you do.”

  I stumbled back, crumbling at the bottom stair. Another stab, more like a cut against the tear in my heart, struck. I hurried, peeling off the boots, kicking and using the marble tile as leverage to get them off. In stocking feet, I launched up the stairs, racing to my room. I had no clue where it was or if Jace followed.

  I wrenched open the door that I assumed was mine, slam the door shut, and leaned back against it as my stomach cramped. Tears burned as they welled up and spilled down over my cheeks.

  Without a doubt, I was going to be ill. Stupid, foolish, Joy. I cried until I sobbed.

  From out of reach, I knew my sisters were absorbing the ache as the window opened, and Hope whispered, All things work for the greater good.

  Sometime later, too exhausted to move, I lay between the door and the bathroom, curled up in a ball. I heard the door open and feet pad across the carpet. A pair of black boots stood in view.

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t have to look up to see it was Damen. My heart was connected with his. I felt when he was near. I hated it. I hate everything about this situation because it was hopeless and unfair.

  “It’s time you go to your own room, baby Cherub,” he said, so soft, so filled with compassion, I almost believed he cared.

  The constant ache in my heart warned me to be careful. I didn’t know how many more rips of rejection I could withstand.

  He crouched down behind me, his hand pulling my unruly ponytail off my shoulder. “What have you done to me? Ummm?”

  I was not going to answer him. Nor could I pretend to sleep. He knew; if not for the dark thread, he had to have figured out by now our hearts beat as one.

  He slipped his arms under my legs and my back, rolling me up against his chest and cradling me against him. He smelled of olives and something I couldn’t identify.

  He stood with me in his arms. I tucked my hands against his chest. I felt the pull of his muscles in his arms against his torso as he took me out of the room and down the hall. “Agatha was concerned when she couldn’t find you for supper.”

  I didn’t say a word. A small pang of guilt for the housekeeper’s trouble was subtle compared to the ache resonating inside me.

  “She left out a plate for you. I had her put it in your room. You’re my captive. I won’t have Cupid accusing me of mistreating you while in my care. The last thing I need is for him to find an excuse to go back on reversing the arrow.”

  “You say it as if he’s agreed.” Glancing up, I saw his jaw twitch.

  “I knew you were not sleeping.”

  “I never pretended I was.”

  We came to the door, and he stopped. Slowly, he withdrew his hold on my legs, and they swung down to touch the floor again. But his arm was still around me, and his eyes made me gasp. There was a distinctive ring of color around the outer edges. Blue bleeding around the black. I saw it earlier, but not like this. It was more pronounced, a little wider, and it swirled with the smoky darkness of the rest of his eyes.

  He backed me against the door, and my heart raced. His had too. He reached up to cup my face, his eyes wandering over my messy hair, and his knuckles brush my cheek. “I’ve spent lifetimes with Marisol. Not even your kisses can change that, baby Cherub.”

  “A few lifetimes too many, perhaps?” A pressure and burning built behind my eyes from pouring out my heart while I was alone. Damen’s face was a blank slate, except for his eyes. I’d changed him. A piece of him. It must have been my kisses filled with harmony and happiness to spark the color in them.

  Maybe, just maybe, if I filled him with enough, he’d see what the darkness blinded him from. Which meant I’d have to find more ways to land my kisses on him.

  A little zing zipped through me with the prospect of kissing Damen, again and again.

  My heart agreed, and I felt a tuck in the tear, ever so slight.

  “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

  I fluttered my lashes and place my hand over his heart. I tapped it, the same beat under my palm as in my chest. “Of course. I’ve been told I’m ddownright adorable.”

  Two could play this game. I sent out a little mental plea for Cupid to hurry up and find me, or at least for Hope to reassure me I’d live to see my wings. Static and silent, the thundering of my heart responded.

  “You won’t think you’re so adorable when you’re making company with Tartarus. I heard he likes to pluck the feathers of your kind, one by one, over and over as they grow back.”

  “Lucky me,” I said, biting and chewing on my lip to stop from admitting the truth to him. Tartarus could pluck all he wants because I didn’t have any wings… Yet.

  “You amuse me, Cherub. Most in your position would not give me so much sass. I’m tempted to take you with me this evening. I have an appointment with the leader of the undersecretary for the prime minister. Then again, you may try to kiss the poor man and trifle with our plans.”

  “Have no worries.” I reached back for the doorknob, needing to put space between us before I did what I told him I would do. “I’m saving all my kisses for you.”

  His grip loosened. I pushed open the door, stepped back out of his arms, and held the door between us. “Go plant your plans of chaos for the night. It must bring you great happiness, I can see it in your eyes.”

  His eyes narrowed. I gave him the sweetest smile I could conjure. “Joy.”

  My heart skipped another beat. Darn it! “Yes.”

  His eyes locked on mine. “You are sweet, baby Cherub. You waste your efforts on me. You can’t make me fall in love with anyone again. My heart is beyond your reach.”

  “No,” I agree. “But I can fill it with happiness and harmony that not even Marisol can give you.”

  I closed the door. Locked it, not that it would keep out a dark and dangerous demigod like Damen.

  I didn’t need to hear the footsteps when he walked away; my heart adjusted to the distance he put between us. I didn’t bother giving the food a second glance. I dumped the contents of the glass in the bathroom sink and washed it out with tap water. Then I drank the tap water, thirsty, as my throat had become parched.

  I sat a long time staring out the window. Specks of light swirled down below. Damen had gone from the house.

  That was my chance to find those boots and get out of here. I unlocked the door, glanced out the hallway, and froze. “Need something?”

  Jace leaned against the wall across from my door.

  “Good night.” I slammed the door shut.

  Cupid was coming. Giles assured me he would come. I had no choice other than to believe him.

  I changed into the long nightgown Agatha had supplied for me. I returned to the window, looking out into a starless night. I reached out to my sisters, static. Cherish never told me what happened if I tasted wine, other than it would make me ill. I tried to connect with her, nothing then in the back of my mind I thought I heard her sigh.

  Go to bed, Joy. Things will start to make sense in the morning.

  14

  A light shall shine out of the darkness. It spills into the empty shallows and the dark crevasse in our hearts. Darkness cannot comprehend it.

  There is a spark of all things filled with light, Joy.

  I stood in a bright white room, with large glass windows overlooking a city with rays of gold.

  A man, with eyes the shade of emerald green, and hair thick and wavy glinting off the sun, approached me. He wore a knee-length toga covered with
gold body armor. His golden wings hung down his back.

  Eros. My father. Or what I’d imagined his appearance was at this moment.

  He spoke, and I was more than dreaming. Giles stepped out from the side of the whiteness. He waved and stayed behind Eros. My half-brother has the gift of granting your greatest desire within a dream. Mine had always been to meet my father.

  “I told you he would come.” Giles walked away and disappeared.

  “Eros?”

  This wasn’t the way I planned to meet one of my own.

  “You came.”

  Joy.

  “Father.”

  Come. Let me look at you.

  Of all the dreams I had ever had, this one was the best. I made a note to thank Giles later.

  You are very much the mirror image of your mother.

  “Thank you. I’ve always wanted to meet you.” Flattered, but it was not the way I wanted or what I yearned to hear.

  I’ve always been close, Joy. I wish I came for a more joyous ceremony, but under the circumstances, I can give you only this.

  Eros pulled out an arrow; it was dull from the natural luminescence of the ones in his quiver.

  “I’m not getting my wings, am I?” My sisters all told me on their coming of age, Eros granted them their wings. “It’s because I tasted the wine.”

  Eros laughed. His chuckle filled the room and wrapped everything in warmth. I could see by his boyish good looks why it was so easy for women to be attracted to him.

  I loved him almost instantly. I knew him as the man who helped create me, but to see him for the first time sent harmony humming through my veins.

  The feeling of his love and mine as a father and a daughter filled me; it numbed the pain of the rejections ripping at it from Damen.

  The wine? That’s a good one. Sweet Joy, the wine inhibits your inner happiness and harmony. Without it, your ability to enhance the hearts of mortals diminishes.

  “But, I got ill.”

  Nerves, emotions, something new and sour can do that.

  “And the enhancement of my own heart?” It sounded selfish, but I’d do anything to make the persistent ache go away, even give up my ability to direct others to happiness in finding love.