Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(57)

"Empousa, you look sad. Is anything amiss?"

She opened her eyes. He was standing, just outside the pool of light cast by the candelabrum that sat on the table.

"I'm not sad. I was just concentrating. I'm not used to calling someone by just thinking about him."

"It is a gift given to each Empousa by Hecate."

"Oh, I appreciate it - it'll just take some getting used to." She motioned to the chair at the other end of the table. "Please, join me. I don't think I realized how hungry I was until just now when I smelled this food."

He stepped from the shadows slowly, as if giving her time to readjust to the sight of him. Mikki realized that she shouldn't stare - that she was being rude. But he was such an incredible being she couldn't just smile and make polite conversation and pretend like each new sight of him didn't send shockwaves through her mind. In the silence, his hooves rang against the marble, pulling her gaze down. He was wearing another short, military-looking outfit, which left much of his muscular legs bare. She noted that except for the fact that they were covered with a coat of slick fur, his legs were fashioned more like a human man than an animal. The leather breastplate molded to his chest and abdomen so it clearly outlined the definition of his muscles, which were completely manlike. No, Mikki mentally corrected herself, no normal man could have a chest like that. He's not stone anymore, but he looks like he could have been carved from marble.

She realized he'd reached the table and stopped and was just standing there, letting her study him. Mikki felt her face heat with an embarrassed blush.

"What is that called?" she blurted, trying to cover for her rude staring.

"Empousa?" His wide brow wrinkled in confusion.

"That leather top you wear. I'm new to all of this." She lifted an edge of her own clothing. "It was just this morning that Gii taught me that this is called a chiton. So I was curious about what yours is called." She didn't think she sounded too terribly moronic. Maybe.

He looked down at himself and then back at her. "It is a warrior's cuirasse."

"Cuirasse," she repeated the word. "Is it over a chiton?"

"No, this is a short tunic. A warrior would not wear a chiton into battle."

Because his expression seemed to tell her she was amusing him, she pointed to his bare legs. "I'd think you'd need more covering for battle."

His face hardened. "I would, were I a man. For protection, Greek men go into battle with leather enemides strapped on their legs from ankle to knee." He lifted one massive hoof and set it down with a heavy, dangerous sound. "I do not require such protection."

A little tremor that was fear mixed with fascination shivered over her skin. She looked into his dark eyes and was immensely proud that her voice sounded perfectly normal. "Huh. Built-in protection like that must come in handy in your line of work."

"Being Hecate's Guardian is not my work; it is my life."

Mikki forced a little nonchalant laugh and started to lift a slice of cold meat onto her plate. "You have no idea how many men in my old world say that about their jobs."

"I am not a man," he growled.

This time Mikki did sigh. Deliberately, she put down her fork and met his gaze. "I'm well aware of that. Just like I imagine that you - as well as the rest of the inhabitants of this realm - are well aware that I'm not like any other Empousa. But am I all prickly about it? No. Do I feel the need to constantly remind you that I'm probably a good twenty years older than the norm, and that I'm totally confused by almost everything surrounding me? No. For two reasons: one, because it's annoying and, two, because bemoaning the fact won't change a damn thing. I mean, I could complain constantly about wanting to be taller or thinner, but that wouldn't ever change the fact that I'm five-seven and weigh" - she hesitated and reconsidered - "ten pounds more than I wish I did." She pointed to the chair with a sharp, frustrated motion. "Now would you please sit down and have some dinner. I'm hungry, and when I'm hungry I get grumpy. So let's eat."

To her surprise, he didn't snarl at her or whirl away. He sat.

Mikki picked up the fork and resumed loading her plate with a variety of the delicious selection of meat and cheese. Tonight they had added dark, flavorful olives and roasted sweet peppers as well as fresh, plump figs. She glanced up when she realized he was still just sitting there. Mikki raised one brow at him.

"I am unaccustomed to eating in the company of others," he said slowly.

She didn't have to ask him why. Gii had already answered that question for her. The rest of the realm saw him as a beast, little more than a walking, talking animal. Even the goddess herself had reminded her sternly that he had not ever been, nor would he ever be, a man.

Well, Mikki was different. No, he wasn't a man, but he wasn't an animal, either.

"Where I'm from it's mean-spirited to make someone eat alone while everyone else excludes him."

"And you are not mean-spirited, Mikado."

He didn't phrase it as a question, but she answered anyway. "No. Sometimes I'm selfish and stubborn, and even cynical, but I can promise you that I've never been mean-spirited."

As she spoke, something in his face changed. It was like she had somehow peeled away a protective layer that he kept wrapped around himself, leaving him terribly, unexpectedly, vulnerable. She remembered that awful, lonely roar she'd heard echoing from a dead statue all the way through a modern world and into her dreams. Mikki wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that everything would be okay, but she was suddenly afraid, and not of the fantastic beast who sat so awkwardly across the table from her. Mikki was afraid of herself.