Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(62)

No! He shook himself. She would loathe him for doing such a thing. How could she not? He loathed himself even for the thought.

"Come, I will take you home, my sweet Pamela."

He wrapped his arms around her, and they disappeared, re-forming almost instantly beside the portal in the Great

Hall. Artemis was there, arms crossed, tapping her foot restlessly. She took in his bare-chested appearance and Pamela's zombielike expression and shook her head. The sooner they were finished with the modern world of the mortals, the better.

"Quickly, the sun is rising," Artemis said.

"I know it!" Apollo snapped. "Or now that my senses are no longer numbed by a goddess's magic, I know it."

Artemis had the good grace to look uncomfortable.

"I will take her through and then return."

The goddess sighed but didn't argue with him. Apollo put his arm around Pamela and led her through the portal.

They stepped into Vegas, and Apollo opened the door to the little closet. In the deserted hallway he straightened Pamela's clothes. He touched her face gently. Apollo felt like a thief. He'd stolen her love, and now he was skulking back before the light of day could reveal his crime. He had no choice, but still he hated himself for allowing it to happen like this.

"I love you, my sweet Pamela. Remember that, and remember to trust me. I will return to you. I will make this right." He bent to her and commanded silently, With my kiss, awaken.

He kissed her deeply, and while she blinked and her dazed expression began to clear, he backed into the closet, closed the door and returned to Olympus.

Pamela rubbed her eyes. Ugh, she felt dizzy and a little sick. How much had she had to drink at dinner? She looked around her. Where the hell was she? The plain-looking little door and the empty hallway registered in her woozy brain. Where was Phoebus? She ran her hand through her hair, and the motion of raising her arm jiggled her br**sts. Jiggled her br**sts? Where was her bra? A thread of panic trailed down her spine. Think! What did she remember?

Phoebus had met her at the cafe. They'd gone to dinner at a wonderful, exclusive restaurant... but her memory of the meal itself was sketchy. Weird, dreamlike flashes of hot, slick skin and the salty taste of the remnants of passion assailed her. She had a brief image of ripping clothes, and then another of Phoebus leading her from a bedroom so she could get dressed - in only some of her clothes. Her panic swelled, and her headache spiked. Breathe, she ordered herself. She was fine; she'd just had too much to drink.

But where the hell was Phoebus!

Okay, her last really clear memory was her happiness at buying the fabulous ruby slipper purse -

"Bloody buggering hell! My purse!"

She looked at the little white door. What had happened at dinner? She couldn't wrap her mind around the memory, even though she knew it was there. For some reason it hovered just beyond her reach. Had she been drugged? By Phoebus? But why would he?

To keep her fear at bay she latched onto one small bit of normalcy. She'd left her brand new four thousand dollar ruby slipper purse in the restaurant. Phoebus or no Phoebus, she was going to go back and get it.

Pamela opened the door and stepped into... A closet? In the middle of the closet was a door-sized disk that shimmered and glowed. A memory stirred. She had gone into this disk/door with Phoebus. It was the entrance to the restaurant. Squaring her shoulders, she walked into the bizarre entryway.

She felt a funny, tickly sensation like feathers brushing over her skin, and the light changed from the closet's single yellow bulb to a soft, rose-colored luminescence. But she didn't enter the fabulous restaurant she half remembered. Instead, she seemed to have stepped into the middle of a magnificent ballroom. The impression she got was of enormous size and incredible beauty. The huge room was empty, except for two people who were shouting at each other. As she emerged from the entrance, they turned toward her. Phoebus, minus a shirt, stared at her with blank-eyed shock. His sister at first looked enraged, and then her expressed changed as -

Pain sliced through Pamela. She opened her mouth to scream, but as change rippled down her body, the scream had to echo through her mind because she had no mouth left with which to give it voice. Helplessly, she reached toward Phoebus as her body folded, then morphed into something not human. At the same instant, the pain dissipated the fog in her mind, and her memories came rushing back. Phoebus. His skin glowing with an unearthly passion. Taking her in his arms. Making her his own. He wasn't human. No human man could be made of fire. What had he done to her? What was he doing to her now? She remembered his fire licking her and stroking her and... Another scream ripped through her mind.

Apollo's back had been to the portal. He had been chastising his sister for being an interfering, meddlesome -

His barrage had been sliced in two when he felt his soul mate enter Olympus. The moment her mortal feet passed through the portal, her body began to change. Helplessly, Apollo watched as his Pamela faded, melted, and then reformed as a beautiful, fragrant jasmine flower.

"Get her back through before the sun rises!" his sister shouted. "When the portal closes, the spell will fade."

Then she would be Pamela once more. Her words worked on him like a prod. He lunged forward, feeling Artemis close behind him. Grabbing the delicate jasmine flower, he pulled it from where it had already begun embedding its roots along the marble floor. Whispering a broken apology, Apollo leapt through the portal with Pamela's changed body clasped tightly in his hands.