"I still say one of you people like people should let the Simi eat the heifer-goddess. She be good eats. The Simi would even share her with her sister."
Laughing, Ash took Tory's hand and once the room was cleared, he flashed her to Katoteros. Simi flounced off to watch TV.
Without a word, he pulled Tory through the throne room toward the ballroom that hadn't been used since his mother destroyed the Atlantean pantheon.
Tory frowned as Ash turned around and walked backwards while smiling at her. The doors opened at his approach and the minute he was inside the huge dark room his clothes changed to vintage 1978 punk, complete with black combat boots, ripped jeans, a torn Union Jack T-shirt and a black motorcycle jacket with chains and an anarchy symbol emblazoned on the back.
"What are you doing?" The words had barely left her lips before her own clothes changed to the same exact dress her mother had worn the night she'd met her father.
The doors closed, sealing them into darkness. An instant later a light came on to showcase a silver mirrored ball at the same time Donna Summer's "Last Dance" started playing. The floor under her feet lit up like a 1970s disco as Ash twirled her under his arm.
Smiling at her, he began to sing, "I need you. By me. Beside me . . . to guide me. To hold me. To scold me . . ."
She laughed even as tears of happiness stung her eyes. As the beat picked up, he danced with her until she was outright crying and laughing to the point she was sure she must look insane.
The fact that he'd recreate this memory for her even though he hated her music with a passion . . .
He was the best ever.
She laughed as he moved flawlessly around the dance floor with her. "You would give John Travolta a run for his money."
"Yeah and I'm sorry about my clothes. I tried, but I just couldn't bring myself to wear that. Hell, I couldn't do the disco look even when it was popular. I swear I'm allergic to polyester. Thank God for the punk movement. Otherwise I'd have been naked for a decade."
She laughed as she tried to imagine him in a green leisure suit. No, it definitely didn't work.
She much preferred thinking of him naked. But only when they were alone.
"So what would you have worn back in the days when you were human?"
"A bedsheet."
Tory nodded as she thought about it. "See I knew that's what they made chitons out of. Geary said I was crazy, but I always suspected as much."
Ash froze as he realized that she hadn't understood his reference to being a whore. She merely thought he was describing the fabric of his clothes. To her, he was a man. Nothing more and definitely nothing less.
Lifting her up and twirling around with her, he held her close, savoring the way that she never reminded him of his past.
And when he set her down, she was dressed as an Atlantean princess.
Tory gasped at her long, flowing gown. Bright blue, it fell in pleats from a deeper blue underbust bodice that was covered with pearls and sapphires. But what made her face flame bright was the sheer material that barely covered her breasts. Her nipples were plainly visible. "Oh no! Tell me they didn't wear this."
Nodding, he turned her to face a mirror that appeared out of nowhere so that she could see the entire outfit as they swayed together. Gold chains draped from her bare shoulders to her elbows and her hair, which was curled into ringlets, was covered with a gorgeous gold headpiece. Tory stared at herself, adoring the clothes but hating that she was too tall, too skinny and too plain to do them justice.
And as she looked at Ash over her shoulder, still dressed as a punk rocker, she wanted to weep. He was gorgeous and she looked like the booby prize.
"Ash," she said, her voice catching, "can you do one thing for me?"
"Anything, Sota. You name it and it's yours."
"Make me beautiful."
He turned her to face him and he laid a kiss on her lips that set fire to her blood. Pulling back, he smiled down at her. "There you go. You're the most beautiful woman in the world."
Tory spun back to the mirror, dying to see what she looked like.
As she saw herself, she scowled.
She hadn't changed. "Ash!"
"What?" he asked innocently, pulling her back against his front so that he could stare at her in the mirror.
"You didn't do anything."
His gaze met hers and the sincerity in those swirling silver eyes scorched her. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Soteria. This is the woman I fell in love with and there's nothing about you I'd ever change."
Leaning back against him, she reached up to touch his cheek. "Really?"
"Absolutely. And I hope that one day, we have a houseful of kids who look just like you."
EPILOGUE
Three months later
New Orleans