She fingered his lips. "I like your mess. I think you taste wonderful." She exchanged her drink for his cloth.
Ash had never tasted a soda before. Curious, he took a drink of it and was surprised by the sharp tartness. "Wow, this is actually good."
"Haven't you ever had a Sprite before?"
"No."
She rolled her eyes as she cleaned herself. "I know, you stick to beer."
Ash didn't answer as he took a deep draft of it again. He frowned as a strange wave of dizziness went through his head. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was getting a buzz from it. But that was impossible. As a god, he didn't get drunk. And even if he did, there was nothing in soda that would intoxicate him.
Tory frowned as she watched Ash down the whole twenty ounces of Sprite in one gulp. "Ash?"
"Is there more of this?"
He was acting peculiar. Like he was drunk.
"There should be another bottle in the fridge."
He licked his lips as he cupped her chin in his hand. "You know, you are beautiful for a human."
"What else would I be?"
He laughed before he kissed her. "You could be a goddess, but you're not bitch enough for that. Then again, Katra isn't a bitch. She's beautiful like you." He cocked his head as if another random thought occurred to him. "I need to see my daughter soon. She's going to have a baby. A girl like her only not like her. It'll be a baby her with a lot more power. I just hope she has enough of her father in her not to be a goddess of destruction. There are already too many of us. We need more who are innately good."
Tory was baffled by his rambling tone that was half Greek and half English. "What in the world are you talking about?" There was no way he was old enough to have a daughter old enough to give birth to a baby. "Are you screwing with me, Ash?"
He nipped her breast. "I've already done that, Soteria, and I enjoyed it like nothing I've ever enjoyed ever. Where's that drink?"
She handed him another bottle. "Are you drunk?"
"I feel drunk." He looked up at her and smiled brightly. "I'm drunk on your beauty. Look what you've done to me, human." He took a drink of Sprite, then set it aside and reached for her. "Touch me, Soteria. I feel so clean and whole when you touch me." He rubbed her hand against his chest, raking her nails against his nipple and as he did so, she saw a scar appear that ran from his throat all the way down past his navel. Another scar, a hand print, appeared around his throat as the hair on his entire body changed from black to blond.
"Ash?"
His eyes turned a dark, fiery red.
Terrified, Tory got up to run for the door.
Somehow Ash appeared in front of her. "Where are you going?"
Terrified and unsure of him, she gulped. "What are you?"
"I'm a god, Soteria. The last of the Atlantean pantheon."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Terrified, Tory backed away from Ash as those words went through her. He was insane . . . and she was in a soundproof room, naked with a lunatic.
Oh dear God!
"Okay," she said slowly, stretching the word out until she could think of some way to get to the door behind him and safely out of the room before he killed her. "Let's calm down. Can I get the normal, brooding Ash back?"
He looked as if her words hurt him. "Don't be afraid of me, Tory. I wanted to tell you that I was a god, but I didn't know how." Closing his eyes, he slid down the door to sit on the floor with his legs gathered tight to his chest. That gesture reminded her of a little boy who was upset that he'd been banished to his room for something he hadn't meant to do. "I knew you wouldn't like me if you found out the truth. No one ever likes me when they find out."
He looked up at her and his eyes returned to that swirling silver color. "He will be called Acheron for the river of woe. Like the river of the underworld, his journey shall be dark, long and enduring. He will be able to give life and to take it. He will walk through his life alone and abandoned—ever seeking kindness and ever finding cruelty. May the gods have mercy on you, little one. No one else ever will."
Tory frowned as he recited something that obviously caused him a great deal of pain. "What is that from?"
A tic worked in his jaw as his cheeks mottled with color. How could a lunatic be so handsome?
"It's what the priestess said over me when I was born into the mortal realm as a cursed god because my father wanted my mother to kill me to prevent our pantheon from falling." He looked away. "I wish she had . . . You don't know what it's like to walk through the world always alone in every crowd. Everyone sees me, but no one knows me." He hung his head in his hands. "I should never have touched you. What have I done? I will pay for this night for the rest of eternity." The anguish in his tone tore through her.
Tory approached him slowly. "If you're really an ancient god, prove it to me. Make me see clearly without my glasses."
He kept his face buried on top of his arms. "Okay."