“It’s a bribe. Don’t read anything else into it.”
Gigi didn’t need Nico’s growly tone to know he was in a grumpy mood. The heavy thump of his boots on the metal stairs had given her a fair bit of warning. Though, as she eyed the tall frosty glass he’d all but slammed down in front of her, garnished with a piece of pineapple, a lime and two sprigs of mint, she was willing to forgive him. Hmmm, mocktail, taking a big sip. Refreshing. Letting the flavours of pineapple, lime, mint and ginger washover her palate. Reminding her a little of one of the chocolate treats she made.
“Bribe?” She lifted her gaze, meeting his scowl as he circled the kitchen bench where she was working so he could face her.
“I just need a couple of minutes away from…”
“My family.” She guessed. “They giving you a hard time?” A grin spreading across her features as Nico raked frustrated fingers through his dark hair.
“I know they mean well.” He conceded.
Oohh, Gigi winced in sympathy, which warred with a spear of delight. She’d been on the receiving end of a lot of advice the first few days following their relationship declaration. Which had thankfully changed recently to more of a - you go girl, sow your oats - have fun kind of support from all her female relatives. She much preferred the ‘atta girl’ support to the dire warnings to guard her tender fragile heart.
“Say no more. My sanctuary…” She waved at the basically bare open floor planned apartment, which contained nothing but the mattress on the floor, two bar stools bolted to the floor in front of the kitchen counter and a doorway off to the left, leading to a bathroom and a humongous storage walk-in wardrobe space. “…actually is your sanctuary. I can move some of this stuff if you need me to?” Glancing down at the mood board pictures she’d strewn across the counter, knowing they would help inspire her proposed menu for Great-Aunt Rose’s birthday.
“It’s fine.” Nico scooping up a photo of a surfer on a longboard catching a wave with his girlfriend resting on his shoulders, both smiling and waving. “How’s it going?”
Probably most people would have been a little daunted if their Great-Aunt, who was about to turn one-hundred and two, came to them and requested they cater a sixties inspired bikini beach bash blow-out. Not Gigi. Not with her family.
“I’m getting there. Tropical liqueur truffles. Alcoholic frozen popsicles. S’mores over campfires. And I’m thinking of recreating the tiki bar I did for Nell’s surprise wedding. That was a hit. Gigi making a note before looking up to meet Nico’s dark gaze, he was staring at her a little too intensely suddenly. “What?”
“What are you wearing?”
Gigi glanced down at the grey jumper she’d snagged from the wardrobe a few hours ago. “Oh, I hope Matias won’t mind. I grabbed one of his old sweaters. I have no idea what’s wrong with me lately but I keep getting these icy chills.”
Nico forced himself to shrug nonchalantly. Matias wouldn’t mind because it wasn’t his sweater. Crap, something about seeing Gigi in his clothes made Nico’s cock stir and a strange sense of rightness settle in his gut. No. No!
A sudden blare of trumpets, out of nowhere, grabbed his attention. The apartment abruptly plunged into darkness. Nico, like lightning, retrieving the knife from his ankle holster, holding it at the ready. Blinking, trying to see where the threat was coming from.
Another blast of trumpets. Deafening. Still nothing but pitch black. Aware that Gigi had hopped down from the stool and scooted around the kitchen bench to stand beside him. Appreciating that she moved silently and didn’t start babbling out questions. He needed to listen in order to know where the threat was coming from since he couldn’t see a blessed damn thing.
Then, between blinks, there was a flash. No, a river of fire igniting off to the side. An actual river was flowing through his apartment. Except they were no longer in the apartment, yet they were, the marble kitchen bench still present. But there were no walls now, just cavernous space around them and above.Looking up Nico noted the ceiling was just gone. Eerie pitch black nothingness looming overhead.
Flames danced along the surface of the stream. Sending out shadows that were quickly swallowed by the cavernous darkness surrounding them. Nico chanced a glance at Gigi, standing beside him, likewise her head swivelling left and right, straining to see or hear where the threat was coming from. Pleased to see she’d grabbed the largest of the kitchen knives they had up here. The way she was holding it giving him some confidence she knew what she was doing with it.
He stretched his senses, nothing, no unusual silver anyway. He was just about to ask Gigi if her magic was picking up anything unusual when a third blast of trumpets sounded, and as the last note faded a rich sonorous voice began speaking. Male. Deep. Accented English, but clear enough.
“The most glorious, exalted, luminous, noble, brilliant…”
The voice carried on, Nico and Gigi sharing a quick confused glance before scanning the cavernous space once more, searching for any sign of the speaker.
“Master of Misrule. Purveyor of Discord. The Shining Golden Nexus of Guile and Beguilement. Incomparable strategist. Learned beyond measure…..”
The hyperbole went on, and on. Precisely how long Gigi couldn’t tell you. More than ten minutes surely. A lot of what was being said starting to become repetitive. As attacks went, it was unique. Was it meant to drive them mad? They were trapped. All that never ending darkness, with no seeming escape. Given the burning stream of flickering flame, it was hard to know if they were still in the Southern Sanctuary or had been transported elsewhere, along, strangely, with the marble kitchen bench.
“…Unrivalled and an exceptionally gifted lover—”
“Oh, enough already, Faleph, you’ll embarrass me.”
Between one blink and the next the two barstools on the other side of the bench were occupied. The man, no, deity on the left immediately drew Gigi’s attention. Slim, not tall, but she thought not short. His skin dark but with a dollop of cream added and the faintest of otherworldly shimmers mixed in. His dark brown hair was short and slicked back, all the better to see those arresting eyes of his that seemed to shift from blue to black to a dark gold. Wearing a cream close-fitted jacket with a high mandarin collar. The male radiated power. Definitely a deity.
“Who are you?” Damn, she shouldn’t have asked so bluntly. The deity laughing heartily, slapping his thigh in merriment.
“Ha, hear that Faleph? In all your fawning, you forgot to mention my name.”
The second male, dressed in a saffron toga, who had a naturally sneering resting face dialled up the sneer by adding a look of loathing. “I present to you the God of Chaos, Apep, and I am Faleph, his Prime Advisor.”
“Nico.” He volunteered his name, before pointing at his partner. “Gigi.”
