How could Artemis turn her back on Ash and leave him there to suffer? Truly, she didn't understand this need to save face that Artemis had. But then Tory didn't care what other people thought of her. She never had. Yes, they'd mocked her incessantly in school for being too smart, blowing the bell curve and for being a tall, skinny nerd. Her hair was frizzy, she'd had braces and glasses so thick they'd melt plastic army men.
But then she remembered clearly that day when she'd come home crying to her father over the words Shelly Thornton had assaulted her with at school—your father's a crackpot that everyone laughs at, your mom's an idiot and you're a pathetic geek who'll never have a boyfriend outside of the one you make up in your head and your dress looks like you found it in a dumpster. If that wasn't bad enough, all the girls who were afraid of Shelly being mean to them had laughed at her too. Then they'd joined in on attacking her clothes.
The worst part was, Tory had loved her dress dearly. It'd been one her Aunt Del had made for her out of Greek lace and a bright purple satin material they'd found in the fabric store that Tory had fallen in love with.
Her heart had been splintered that day by their cruelty until her father put her on his knee and kissed her tears away. "No one can ever make you feel inferior without your permission, Tory. Don't give it to them. Realize that it's their own insecurities that make them attack you and others. They're so unhappy with themselves that the only way they can feel better is by making everyone as unhappy as they are. Don't let those people steal your day, baby. You hold your head high and know that you have the one thing they can never take away from you."
"What's that, Papa?"
"My love. Your mother's love and the love of your family and true friends. Your own self-respect and sense of purpose. Look at me, Torimou, people laugh at me all the time and say that I'm chasing rainbows. They told George Lucas that he was a fool for making Star Wars —they used to even call it Lucas's Folly. Did he listen? No. And if he'd listened to them you wouldn't have had your favorite movie made and think of how many people would never have heard the phrase 'May the Force be With You.' "
He'd brushed her hair back from her wet cheeks. "I want you to always hold your head up and follow your dreams wherever they take you. Don't you ever listen to the people out to hurt you or make you cry. Listen to your heart and be better than them. No one gets ahead by hurting others. The only real peace anyone will ever have is the one that comes from within. Live your life on your own terms and make it a happy life. Always. That's what's important, Torimou."
It wasn't always easy to listen to those sage words and the sad truth was that she'd never worn her purple dress again, or purple period. But over time, she'd learned to care less and less what others thought about her as she made her own way in the world. The only thing she couldn't stand was to have her beloved father and uncle mocked.
The world could laugh at her if they must, but she couldn't stand anyone to make fun of those she loved.
But as she read the insecurities of Artemis, she realized how lucky she'd been to have her father. Poor Artemis for not having anyone to love her like that.
And poor goddess for hurting the only one who would have . . .
Tory looked over to see Simi watching QVC. She was lying on her back with her head hanging over the edge of the bed as she watched it upside down.
Okay . . .
"Simi?"
The demon looked at her curiously.
"Do you think Artemis is sad?"
"I think she's just plain mean."
"Yes, but people aren't mean just to be mean. There has to be a reason for it."
Simi let out a forlorn sigh. "Well, akri say that the heifer-goddess doesn't have anyone to love her and that's why we have to be nice to her. But the Simi say so what? There's a reason she gots no one to love her. She's mean."
There it was in a succinct, if not semi-humorous, nutshell. And it made her wonder if Ash had been recognized as a prince how much different their relationship would have been.
But the point was moot really. And as the hours went by, Tory learned a lot more about ancient Greece, Atlantis and Acheron than she'd ever dreamed possible.
Aimee brought food for them and somewhere around midnight, Simi fell asleep on the floor with her feet rising up at a ninety degree angle against the wall.
Shaking her head at the strange position, Tory pulled one of the blankets from the bed and draped it over her. Just as she tucked it around Simi, a small fissure went through the air.
Unsure of what caused it, Tory looked to her right to find Ash standing outside the bathroom with one arm braced against the wall. His face pale, he appeared to be in severe pain. But most shocking was the fact that his hair was golden blond and he wasn't wearing a long coat. Only a long-sleeved black shirt that had been left untucked.
"Ash?" she whispered.
He didn't respond.
Concerned, she closed the distance between them and saw that he was sweating profusely. "Baby, what's wrong?"
He looked at her with a confused frown. "I didn't know where else to go. I . . . I didn't want to be alone."
"Do you need to lie down?"
His eyes empty, he nodded.
Tory waited for him to move. When he didn't, her concern tripled. "Ash?"