Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(68)

"Carsick. I think you're carsick," Pamela said. "You might feel better if you sat up front with Robert. My friend V gets violently sick if she sits in the backseat of a car. Want me to have Robert stop so you can move?"

"I am a god," he said slowly from between clenched teeth. "I do not get sick."

"Suit yourself, but if you puke in Eddie's car, I can promise you as your employer I am going to be very pissed."

Apollo closed his eyes and tried to ignore the fact that they were hurtling across the earth inside a metal monster that could smash itself into something and disintegrate at any moment.

"What exactly is a mimosa?" Artemis asked.

"It's champagne and orange juice mixed together. It's pretty good, actually."

"Well," she glanced at her brother's strangely pale face and then shrugged her shapely shoulders, "I'm going to try one. Would you care to join me, Pamela?"

"No, thank you," Pamela said.

Artemis helped herself to one of the champagne flutes. "See how polite I'm being?"

"It's truly a miracle," Pamela muttered.

"Just wait. The best is yet to come." The goddess sipped her mimosa and gave Pamela a wicked little smile.

Pamela decided Apollo had the best idea. She closed her eyes and prayed the trip, the day - hell, the week - would be over soon. But not before she slipped her hand within his and squeezed.

Chapter 23

E. D. Faust's vacation home had been built to look like a charming Tuscan villa. Pamela was relieved. Yes, she'd seen the blueprints and read through the architectural notes James had given her, but after Eddie's bizarre request to make the interior look like The Forum, she had been leery about what to expect. Of course as they got out of the limo and approached the impressive double wrought-iron doors within which was set outrageously expensive, hand-blown, etched and beveled glass, she remembered that she'd thought that the outside of The Forum meant that the inside was modestly styled and classically tasteful. Please. Talk about mistaken first impressions.

She glanced at Artemis, who looked cool and beautiful in the morning sunlight. Her cheeks were attractively flushed, and one long curl of bright blond hair had escaped her elaborate coiffure.

The goddess smoothed down the skirt of her short tunic, hiccupped, and then giggled slightly. Pamela scrutinized her more closely. Oh, crap! She looked tipsy. Why in the bloody buggering hell had she not thought to keep her eyes open and on Artemis? Just exactly how many mimosas had she slurped down in thirty minutes on an empty stomach while she'd been sitting there obliviously clutching Apollo's carsick hand?

"Are you drunk?" she hissed.

Artemis gave her a bleary frown. "Immortals do not get drunk. Only mortals get drunk. Don't be a silly little flower." She shook her finger at Pamela.

Pamela rolled her eyes. "You're not immortal right now, remember!" She squelched the sudden urge to scream. Instead, she looked at Apollo for help. His face was an odd shade somewhere between white and green. She watched him wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Are you okay?"

He nodded tightly. "Better now that we're out of that..." He shuddered and looked off in the direction the car had taken.

"Limo," she said. "It's a limo." She was stuck in a revolving nightmare. "All right. Here's what we do. You two try not to speak unless you're asked a question directly, and even then, I'll do most of the talking. Let's go. We might as well get this over with."

Pamela adjusted the strap on her shoulder briefcase and started purposefully up the lovely curving marble stairs. The twins followed her less purposefully. Just before she touched the antique doorbell, she heard a scuffling sound behind her and Artemis' very out-of-character giggle. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Apollo had his sister's elbow.

"She almost fell," he said under his breath.

"Impossssable," Artemis slurred.

"Oh, God," Pamela muttered.

The double doors opened, and James's smiling face greeted them.

"Please come in, Pamela. Eddie is in the courtyard waiting for you." His smile shifted to polite curiosity as Apollo and Artemis followed Pamela into the foyer.

"These are two assistants I've hired. Experts, really," Pamela said quickly.

"I'm sure Eddie will be pleased by your initiative. He has been eagerly anticipating your meeting all weekend. Come this way, please."

James led them across the foyer, a mammoth space from which two curving staircases with old-world marble railings ran up to a second level of the villa. But the marble railings were the only finished aspect of the interior.

Everything else was bare. The walls were still Sheetrock; the floor was still cement. The entire back wall, which they were approaching, was fitted with floor-to-ceiling windows, so new that they still had their orange factory stickers on them. But Pamela didn't see the rawness as she walked slowly through the unfinished space. She gazed around her, seeing only its unlimited potential.

"It is horrible," Apollo said under his breath to her. "There is no floor, no walls, no decoration whatsoever."

"No, it's perfect," she whispered hastily back to him. "The foundation is here, but the floors and walls are all unfinished; most of the fixtures have not even been installed. It's like a blank canvas. It's my job to choose wisely and to make sure this is turned into a masterpiece."