Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(78)

"Hang on," she told Apollo. "Who is it?" she asked through the door.

"Me!" the word was a whimper.

"Artemis?" Pamela said, opening the door.

Dressed in her short tunic once more, the goddess swept into the room, looking like an ancient Greek tragedy come to life with one hand dramatically stretched out before her, the other clutching her throat.

"Pamela! Something is terribly wrong with - " She caught sight of her brother sitting in the chair, face speckled with blood, and her hand went from her throat to her mouth.

Pamela slammed the door shut and grabbed the goddess's elbow.

"Do. Not. Scream," she said slowly and distinctly.

"Oh! Oh!" Artemis wobbled, and Pamela guided her to the bed where she collapsed, still staring with huge glassy eyes at her brother. "Is he dying?" she gasped.

"Oh, good Lord. Of course not. He just cut himself shaving." Pamela rubbed her right temple, feeling the twinge that signaled the beginning of a pounding headache.

"Apollo?" Artemis asked in a shaky voice.

"I am not good with the..." He made a shaving motion.

"Razor," Pamela said. "No, you're not good with the razor." She walked over to him and bent down again. "This might sting a little." She touched the wet washcloth to the nicks. Apollo's only movement was a hitched breath. His sister watched in horror.

"He's bleeding," Artemis exclaimed.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you cut yourself with a razor. You bleed." She rolled her eyes at the goddess before turning back to Apollo. "Okay, now you need to take some tissue and press little pieces of it against these cuts. Pretty soon they'll coagulate and stop bleeding, and you'll be good as new."

"Tissue?" Apollo said.

"Coagulate?" Artemis squeaked.

"Never mind. I'll do it." Pamela sighed, went into the bathroom, grabbed a couple of Kleenexes and came back to crouch beside Apollo's chair. The twins watched her with amazed expressions as she tore tiny round pieces of the tissue and pressed one each against his shaving nicks. "There," she said, straightening up and assessing her work. "That should stop the bleeding soon. By the time you put your shirt on and comb your hair, you should be able to take them off without the cuts opening up again."

"Opening up again?" he asked.

"Apollo, aren't you the God of Healing or whatever? How can this be so shocking to you?" Pamela was exasperated. She didn't know whether she wanted to hug him or shake him.

Abruptly, the god stood. "You are quite right. I... I feel rather foolish. I will get dressed and join you soon." He made a very hasty exit.

"That was not very nice," Artemis said.

Pamela put her hands on her hips and turned to the goddess. "Oh, look who's suddenly concerned about not very nice. Might I remind you that you've made it clear that you consider me no more than the little mortal experiment gone wrong? I seem to distinctly remember that you said something about being supremely tired of being shackled to me as your excuse for zapping me with some kind of sex magic so I'd like your brother."

Artemis cringed back from her. "You're hurting my head."

"Good!"

"Again, that's not very nice. Especially in light of the fact that I think I might be dying."

"And why would you think that?"

"Just look at me! Something is terribly wrong. My eyes are all red and there are horrid puffy bruises under them. My stomach feels very, very ill. And I think my head may burst open at any moment!" she said, falling back dramatically on Pamela's pillows.

"Please. There's nothing wrong with you except that you're hungover," Pamela said, trying not to laugh.

"Will it kill me?" Artemis asked, sitting straight up and then grimacing and holding her head.

"No. But I'd lay off the mimosas and champagne today."

The goddess blanched. "Do not even mention those drinks."

Pamela couldn't help smiling at her. "I'll bet you're thirsty."

"Absolutely parched. How did you know? Have you had this sickness yourself?"

Pamela went over to the minibar refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, cracked the seal, and handed it to Artemis. "More times that I'm willing to admit. You drank too much alcohol yesterday. Your body - your temporarily mortal body - is telling you that's not a good idea." She watched as Artemis guzzled the bottle of water. "Wait, don't drink it all. You'll need something to take the Tylenol with," she said, rummaging through her purse until she came up with her little emergency travel pill box, and picked through the Benadryl and Xanax until she found two Tylenol. "Here, take these and have a bland breakfast - maybe some toast or muffins." Noting Artemis' blank look she said, "Oh, all right. I'll show you what to eat. But make sure you have some coffee and some more water. You'll feel better soon."

"Will I look better? I can not believe the wretched sight that greeted me in the mirror."

Pamela studied the goddess's face as she had her brother's before her. She was, of course, still amazingly beautiful, but this morning Artemis definitely looked haggard. "Come on in the bathroom and let me see what I can do about those dark circles." She paused and gave Artemis an appraising look. "Wait. I'll make a deal with you. I'll do something about your face, if you promise to be nice to Eddie again today."