He was enjoying the interplay when Apollo got an even bigger surprise. Timothy started to sing. The young man who barely spoke, and when he did, kept his volume at a whisper, opened his mouth, and sang. The song hadn’t existed before that moment. Apollo and Timothy were just playing notes, and yet as Apollo listened, he realized Timothy was creating the song as he was singing, gaining in confidence with every line.
Apollo made sure not to watch him, not to look at him at all. He already knew Timothy was chronically shy, but something made him share his thoughts that day, and Apollo was just running with it. He used his own voice to balance against Timothy’s, humming, making vocal noises without words – a background vocal that didn’t change the music at all.
The song grew, filling the air. Timothy was so talented – hiding his muse behind scared eyes. It brought tears to Apollo’s eyes, listening to the pure notes. Timothy didn’t miss a beat.
There was some noise by the door, and Apollo willed Timothy to keep going. An older boy, Miles, crept in, going over to sit behind the drum kit on the other side of the stage. A small nod from Apollo, and Miles started to play, softly at first, and then getting louder, giving Timothy’s song a rhythm and a beat to follow.
A young girl with dyed hair and studded collars almost dared anyone to stop her as she reached for the bass guitar on the wall. Chin jutting out at Apollo, she stood by the drums, following Miles, as they accompanied Timothy…and still Timothy sang. His guitar forgotten, Timothy had put it down by this stage, but he stood up, his fists clenched against his chest as he poured his soul out to the ceiling.
Apollo couldn’t stop his tears if he tried, and he didn’t try. The pain was in the music, but hope and determination were there, too. When Timothy finally wound down, and the musicsoftly rumbled to a stop, all Apollo could say above the clapping and cheers of a gathered audience by the door was, “You were freaking brilliant. You all were. Have you guys ever thought about forming a band?” He couldn’t help himself. After all, that’s what the god of the muse was for.
Chapter Four
Titus arrived at Orion Industries shortly before two o’clock. It was in his nature to be prompt. He couldn’t abide anybody who was late for an appointment because, in his head, that person was either lazy or disorganized. Perpetually late people, whether for business or a date, never held his attention for long. Because he wanted a chance to check out the business and get a few more clues about the people who owned it, he turned up early.
The building itself was discreetly elegant. Concrete, glass, a few hints of chrome, and a small black sign with a goldOon it, along with four stars – the logo Titus remembered from the website.
But as he walked through the reception area, Titus was surprised not to see any ostentatious columns or decorative elements. He thought the Greeks were very fond of their architectural elements. But like the front of the building, the foyer was understated with more glass and concrete. There was one fine edge of gold along the front of the reception desk, but that was as far as the decorations went.
I thought Artemis was the goddess of the hunt – where’re the plants or natural elements?
Titus noticed that the receptionist was a lady of an indeterminate age. As he got closer, he noted she had the air of “other” about her, and he wondered if she was one of the nymphs that Regis had mentioned - the nymphs gifted to Artemis by her father. However, he kept his thoughts off his face and nodded politely when she noticed him. “I have an appointment with your owners at two,” he said, making sure to smile. “Titus Haverland, owner of Titus Industries.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Haverland, Madam left word you were expected.” The voice was soft, but there was a thread of steel there too – the sort of undertone that would make any sensible personthink twice about messing with the woman. She was dressed to blend into the surroundings, and Titus wondered if that was deliberate. “If you would care to take the left-hand elevator and go to the sixth floor, the receptionist there will let you know where to go from there.”
“You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”
Titus strode off, every sense on high alert. Neither he nor his wolf felt he was in any danger, but Titus was curious about the business and its occupants, and he couldn’t help looking around. Sniffing discreetly, he realized he couldn’t scent any person at all, although that might have been because of the jasmine air freshener being piped through the air ducts at various points around the ceiling.
There was nothing wrong with the company ensuring that no unpleasant smells invaded their offices. But Titus wondered how much of that was done to help prevent shifters or other paranormals from finding out more about the people working there.
Or maybe I’m getting paranoid in my old age and seeing things that aren’t here or sniffing for them,he thought as he approached the elevator – the door of which opened on his approach. Pressing the button for the sixth floor, Titus noticed that the sixth floor was the highest floor the elevator would go to, even though Titus had noticed as he’d approached the building that there were actually eight floors.
Will I even get to see the seventh and eighth floors?he wondered.Or does the Madam keep all her business on the sixth floor and below?
Stepping out onto the sixth floor, Titus was still being offered no clues about what the company did or who the people were that worked there. He was greeted with another reception room,which could have easily been a mirror of the one on the ground floor. Except this time the receptionist had dark hair, but the same nondescript clothing, the same very pretty face, and that air of other.
Perhaps all of the employees are made up of Artemis’s maidens, he thought. Not that it was his concern. He could hear Regis’s warning in his head.Don’t go letting your curiosity cause you to make a deal that’s not good for the company. And he wouldn’t. Titus had worked too damn hard to get to where he was to blow it on a deal made out of curiosity. He needed to focus.
“Good afternoon, I’m Titus Haverland. I believe the company owners are expecting me for a meeting at two.” Maybe if he sounded as if he was expecting Apollo to attend with Artemis, it might happen.
But the receptionist, who gave him a very polite smile, said, “Yes, Mr. Haverland. Madam will see you in the conference room. If you follow me, we’ll head down this way.” Without waiting for a response, she led the way down a long corridor that was paneled in wood. Very classy and a welcome change from the chrome and glass. But Titus realized that was probably also intentional. It meant that despite his wolf being able to pick up sounds of people working in offices beyond those walls, he couldn’t see anything.
What does the lovely goddess have to hide?
The receptionist stopped by a wide door, which she tapped on and opened, although the room was empty. There was a large circular table in the middle of the room and about half a dozen chairs spread around it. Titus noticed they were very well spread apart.She really doesn’t want to be close to me.
“If you could take a seat,” the receptionist said, “I’ll let Madam know that you’re here and arrange some refreshments.”
“You’re very kind. Thank you.” Titus sat down, studying the room. Beige walls. Nothing offensive. But there was no personality in the room at all. There were two large abstract art pieces. They were the only splashes of color in the room, aside from the view out of the window. But everything else was wooden. Titus hadn’t seen any posters, awards, or other indications of what the company was involved in or had achieved. Even the company logo was small and discreet.Definitely not drawing attention to themselves.
He had barely time to get comfortable before the door opened again and the receptionist came in carrying a large tray with the normal coffee accoutrements and a couple of cookies on a plate. Titus was used to that sort of fare, and as he had already had a hearty lunch, he simply requested a cup of black coffee when the receptionist asked, refusing cream or sugar. She had barely finished serving him when Artemis came into the room. Titus kept his smirk to himself as she deliberately walked around to the other side of the rather wide table, taking a seat and smoothing down the legs of the pantsuit she had decided to wear for the meeting.
“Mr. Haverland, thank you very much for taking the time to meet me this afternoon.”
“No problem at all. I’m interested in learning more about your company.” Titus relaxed back in his chair.
“Yes, well, as you’ve probably seen from our information brochure…”
