Tribute for the Goddess

Excerpt From: Tribute for the Goddess

Someday after we have mastered the air, the winds, the tides and gravity, we will harness for God the energies of love. And then for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire. Teilhard de Chardin

“I see you failed to sustain the curse.”

Thad’s eyes narrowed at the woman’s superior tone. Gods! Sometimes he hated her. He struggled to keep his head bowed and remove the disdain from his voice.

His teeth gritted. “Yes, my goddess.”

Reddjedet, Goddess of the Zodiac Quadrant, shifted on her ‘throne,’ a plush chair on a raised dais. One dainty, sandaled foot tapped on the marble beneath her and signalled her annoyance.

“Why is your hair drawn back like that?” she asked impatiently.

A cascade of white blond hair fell about his shoulders, raising his irritation another notch. How dare she? Although he hadn’t seen the flick of her wrist that precipitated the disappearance of the clasp that had held his hair, he knew she’d taken it, and it now rested in her palm.

It pissed him off.

Goddess or not, she had no right to treat his body like this, fashioning it to her pleasure. Yet, she did. How many times had she released his hair, removed articles of his clothing, touched him with invisible hands? More than he could count.

“Thaddeus…” she sighed.

Through his lashes he saw her shake her head.

She set the clasp on the arm of her chair. “Why do you hate me so?”

He shifted. Trap question. “I don’t.”

“Liar.”

He heard the smile in her voice. Felt it in his pelvis. Damn it!

It was the same cat-and-mouse game they’d played for the last two hundred years. She always acted the gleeful cat. The predator.

That pissed him off, too. It went against his grain, against everything that comprised his code of behaviour.

Still, today, he sensed something was wrong. There was a change in her demeanour that she tried to hide from him. She might appear smug—happy—but it was a façade. Something troubled his goddess.

Reddjedet was worried.

He took a few casual steps, moving closer but not close enough to touch her. Never to touch her. It wasn’t allowed.

He lifted his head and looked directly at her. That she didn’t notice his action or the challenge in his eyes told him more than words.

“What’s wrong?”

Her light blue eyes clouded, and she swiped her reddish-blonde hair from her face. “Nothing is wrong. Why would you ever ask something like that?”

He tilted his head.

Whatever...if that’s your story.

“You seem tense,” he commented.

“Tense?” She gave a stilted laugh. “I am not subject to human emotions. What are you suggesting? That I’m—what is that word you’ve used—stressed?”

“Are you?”

She wasn’t subject to emotion? Who was she kidding?

She scowled at him.

He crossed his arms and silently challenged her. He’d waited for the opportunity to bait her for years. “C’mon, Jett, what’s the problem?”

“What did you call me?” she demanded.

“Jett. Who the hell can say your name anyway?”

“Everyone.” She glanced around, and it struck him that she was nervous. She wasn’t just nervous. Something was very wrong. What kind of catastrophe was she about to bring down on the earth that she was obviously afraid to get caught in? That would be just like her. Destruction and doom and then poof! off she went.

She wasn’t heartless. Apparently, she followed “directives for the greater order.” He’d seen the look of grief in her eyes when she’d given the commands.

“So what’s it going to be today?” he asked. “Forest fire? Typhoon? Earthquake? It’s been awhile since California’s been hit.”

“We were discussing your inability to maintain a curse?”

Thad sighed. Talking to her was like arguing with a wall. “It wasn’t a permanent curse. The man had to find his true love and he did.”

“And you did not help him at all?”

He made a show of examining his fingernails. It wouldn’t do any good to lie to her, but he bought time to think up something. He wasn’t up for a punishment today. Sure, he’d helped the poor guy. Being cursed for two hundred years was no picnic.

He should know…

It really sucked being pledged to a goddess. What had he been thinking? Why on earth had he wanted this? Back when he was stupid and twenty and drunk, it had sounded like a good idea. Especially, since the woman who’d enticed him into it had been the most gorgeous creature he’d ever beheld, with reddish-blonde locks rioting down past a slim waist that sloped gently into the finest ass he’d seen in his life. He’d dreamed of rhapsodising about her sonnet-worthy breasts—of course, rhapsodising after he’d tasted them, moulded them with his tongue, taken her up on the promises in her cerulean blue eyes.

Promises she’d immediately reneged on once she had him. He knew her well enough now to know that was how she operated.

Reddjedet, Goddess Bitch of the Milky Way.

She’d claim that she’d given him exactly what she’d promised. Phenomenal supernatural abilities. Wealth. Power. It was the unspoken, unfulfilled promises that irked him.

And the side-effects she hadn’t mentioned.

After he’d pledged to her, he’d aged normally for ten years. Until the day he’d placed a curse on his best friend to save the man’s life. Technically speaking, it hadn’t done that. It had cursed him to a ghostly existence for two hundred years until his true love had come along. Because Thad would inevitably benefit and he’d acted outside the greater order, he’d been cursed, too. Only he’d lived, never aging. Thirty forever. A dream to some. A nightmare to him.