Eye of the Gods by Christina Wise

Author:Christina Wise
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gods and Goddesses, Fantasy fiction, Talisman, Academy fiction, Mythology, Secret society
Publisher: RhetAskew Publishing
Published: 2021-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Andrea tried to calm the anger seething in her as she entered the library. Students sat scattered around the main floor, reading large books and silver laptops, an occasional cough or the noise of fingers dancing on keyboards filled the room. In the quiet, her heartbeat blasted like a bass amped in her ears.

How dare he! No way she'd let Hunter keep the Eye of the Gods. She'd get it back no matter what—even if it pissed off her lone partner in all this.

She reached the thin basement door, her fingertips caressed the phrase, Know Thyself. Unease scratched at her mind. The starless sky and rotten stench of the Underworld haunted her. That growl, so vicious and carnal. Fingernails dug into her palm as she pictured Gram's tortured body. But something about the Underworld Aphrodite showed her appeared different from what she experienced with Hunter. Like a balloon floating away from a child's hand, she couldn't quite grasp the difference. A lot of her thoughts about the gods' realm fuzzed in her brain like that.

The iron staircase shook from her quick strides. The copper light and tang of dust engulfed her. Her ballet flats shuffled on the concrete and she fidgeted with the flannel of her sleeve, the temperature cooler than the last time she'd explored the basement.

"Aden?"

No response. She wound through bookcase after bookcase, shuddering as she passed the aisle full of books on the plague, the colorful spines peeling. Cobwebs coated some shelves while others were dust-free.

A few minutes later, Andrea reached the clearing with the ragged couch. Aden sat in the amber light, hunched over a sketchbook on the worn coffee table. The muscles in his forearm tensed as he put pressure on his ink pen. Her balled fists relaxed at his appearance, and a flutter ran through her. He wore the tattered t-shirt again, revealing peeks of his olive skin underneath and his clean-shaven face accentuated his sharp jaw line.

"Hi," she squeaked.

Aden's head shot up. His shoulders relaxed, and a grin spread across his face. Adoration wafted off of him like cologne. "Hey." His smile disappeared, flattening out the corners. "You okay? You seem flustered."

Andrea crossed the room and sat next to him, a spring from the couch poking her bottom. She fell against his shoulder. He dropped his pen and wrapped his arms around her. "It's been kind of a hellish day." That's one way to put it. His fingers stroked her arm.

Andrea drew away, her heart squeezing at the distance she forced between them. Keep it together. A relationship landed Gram in the Greek version of hell. But the need to unload her troubles ached in her bones. She assumed finding another descendant would lighten her load. What a joke. She rested her arms on her thighs and took a deep breath, filling her nose with the musty dampness of the basement. Her gaze fell on his drawing of two horses, their bodies thick in the middle, while strong legs kicked, propelling the stallions forward.

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