“Hello, Indie,” I said to myself. “There you are.” I pointed at myself. “And there is where you'll stay. No more weakness. Jake made his choice. At first, it wasn't much of one. Death or service. I would have chosen possession too. But now that he's here, he could at least put up a fight.” I grimaced. “No. No, we will not blame him either. He's a victim, and I still love him. But . . .”
But what? Was that love fading? Was it because of the Hounds of Hades? What a name. The Hounds of Hades. So dramatic. I liked it. I liked them. It felt fickle, but I wanted them. There. I admitted it. In my head, but still, I admitted it. I wanted them. Yup, all three. They hadn't gone over how that would work, but my mind was offering me images that would have made a fortune on any porn website.
And I went wet with them.
“Oh, my.” I stared down at myself.
My nipples hardened, my thighs clenched, and my sex was ready for action. I hadn't felt so aroused since before Jakegot sick. No, let's be brutally honest, Indie. I hadn't felt this aroused ever. Not even in the early days of our relationship had Jake made me feel like this. And the hounds had done nothing sexual with me. This arousal stemmed from my fantasies alone.
“You'd better take care of that before you go downstairs,” I said to my reflection. “You'll never be able to face them feeling like this.” Then I blinked. “Shit. What if they have supernatural senses? What if they can smell it on me?” I grimaced, dropped the towel, and headed back into the shower, muttering, “You dirty, dirty girl.” And then I grinned.
Chapter Sixteen
The house was quiet, but the scent of freshly brewed coffee led me into the kitchen. A grandfather clock I passed told me it was after 10. I had slept in. How wonderful was that? For more than a year, I’d been too stressed to sleep in. Doubtless, that contributed to my lack of eye bags. It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do.
It was nice to step into an empty kitchen. The amount of people underfoot at Silas's place had grated on my nerves. I've always lived alone, and I enjoyed the peacefulness of that. I didn't think I'd find that peace here, with three men in residence. What a pleasant surprise.
As I headed to the coffee pot, I saw the plastic dome on the island. A note was stuck to it. It read; Good morning, Indigo Darling. Warm this in the microwave before you eat it. I smiled as I lifted the dome to reveal more pancakes, these spotted with chocolate chips. There was a pile of sausages too. I grabbed one and popped it in my mouth before I took the plate to the microwave. As my food heated, I went to the fridge and got the butter and cream. By the time I fixed my coffee, the food was ready. Instead of heading into the dining room, I sat on a stool at the kitchen island. There was a window across the room, over the sink, and it provided a lovely view of the garden.
As I ate, I surveyed the landscape. There was a hint of water to the left and more than a hint ahead of us. Were we on a lake? Curious, I got up, leaving my breakfast behind to take a quick peek. My eyes widened when I saw we were on a peninsula. There was water on all sides of the enormous yard. And there were other buildings out there too. One of them was large enough that it could have been someone else's home, but I didn't think so. Not with the front of the property being gated. It wouldn't make sense to have someone else living there.
But it wasn't the other house or the water that held my attention. It was the Hounds. They were exercising in a sandy square of ground just beyond the back porch. Although, I wasn't sure if exercise was the proper word for it. I'd never seen anyone work out as they did. It was intense, to say the least.
All three men were bare-chested and were only a few yards away from the house, which was why I couldn't see them when I'd been sitting at the island. It was also why I could now see every drop of sweat on their glistening, sculpted, muscular, gorgeous . . . oh, fuck, snap out of it, Indie!
I mentally slapped myself, but it didn't help. Because on top of their exquisite physiques, their exercise tactics were unusual. I could only assume that normal weight sets wouldn't do anything for them. Because the Hounds of Hades were resorting to some unorthodox weights.
Gage was doing laps around the area with enormous chains looped over his shoulders. Chains that could have anchored a battleship. Speaking of anchors, Garret was bench-pressing one—holding the thing by its curved bottom. And Gideon did squats with a log across his shoulders—a big one that he could barely get his arms around.
As I watched, Gage drew a length of chain off his shoulder and swung it over his head like a lasso. He tossed it before him, still running, then yanked it back. Garret sat up with his anchor and tossed it aside. The thing landed with a thud that vibrated the floor beneath my feet.
“You wanna play?” Garret asked Gage.
I lifted my brows. What was this now?
“Sure.” Gage stopped running and tossed the chain at Garret.
In an astounding feat of dexterity, Gage kept unwinding the chain as he tossed it until the whole thing was shooting through the air like a metal anaconda. Garret reached up and caught the chain, spinning as he did to wind it around his body.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.
Laughing, Garret lifted the entire mass like he was pulling off a sweater and tossed it at Gideon. “Think fast, Gid!”
Gideon grunted, let the log fall, and caught the chain. Then the boys were playing “toss the chain,” their arms bulging and their faces split into grins. I watched, mesmerized, my breakfast forgotten. Was this what Hercules was like?
“Holy shit! They're demigods! A god made them. That makes them demigods, right?” I frowned. “Maybe not. Damn, I don't know. But . . . just damn.” I grabbed my food from the island, set it on the counter, and got back to eating as I watched the men work out. “Breakfast and a show,” I murmured.
And what a show. Between their gorgeous grins and godly displays of power, I couldn't look away. Not even when Garret noticed me watching. I just smiled and waved. Yeah, you caughtme ogling you, but I don't care. Garret didn't either. Or rather, he appeared to enjoy it, grinning and waving back at me.
And then he got smacked in the chest by a wad of industrial chain.
I shrieked, but Garret only laughed and motioned at me as if to say that he was fine. The hit hadn't even made him sway. When they noticed Garret's focus, the other two men looked over, said something to each other, and then headed for the house. Heart racing, I pressed a hand to my chest and reminded myself that they were immortal. That chain would have broken the ribs of a regular man, but Garret was not a regular man. A regular man couldn't have thrown the chain, to begin with.
“Dear God,” I whispered. It was sinking in. Well, sinking deeper. “No wonder Silas is desperate to know their weaknesses. I thought Michael was strong, but they're otherworldly. Or underworldly.”
“Hey, you!” Garret said as he came into the kitchen through the backdoor.
He was mopping sweat from his chest with a towel, and I found myself wondering what life as his towel would be like.
