Authors: Nicole Hamlett
"I'd uh…I’d like you to live long enough to meet the grandkids."
"Wait, what? You're too young to start thinking about grandkids. Are you dating someone? I thought you were in the 'girls suck' phase of your life. I—I can't think about this right now. Run along and get some coffee for me, will you? I'll finish up here. Hey," I patted his bottom and then pulled him in for a hug. "Thanks for waking me up."
"Yeah, I can't wait to tell the guys about this. They'll never believe it."
"Get." I pushed him off and through the door so I could attack my oatmeal with the vigor that it deserved. Suddenly I was starving. I piled eggs and fruit onto my plate and dug in. Chances were that I'd need this fuel for the coming day. If it was anything like yesterday, I was probably doomed.
***
The food was gurgling in my stomach when I sauntered into the forge. I shouldn't have eaten so much. Normally breakfast wasn't a huge ordeal and a bowl of oatmeal or some eggs and hash did it for me. I’d eaten half of the food on that table and still would have consumed more if I hadn't caught Dylan's face.
He'd looked horrified by the amount of food I was shoveling into my mouth.
"What?" I'd asked.
"I've never seen you eat that much in one sitting. Where are you putting it?"
My eyes narrowed in annoyance and I'd replied, "Never you mind. How do I get to the forge from here?"
He'd given me directions and disappeared through the door in which we'd come.
So, here I was, standing alone waiting for whatever it was that came next. What happened to the days where I could anticipate the next move in my life? Gone. They were just gone.
I stepped into sweltering heat and immediately broke out into a sweat.
"Jesus! It's hotter in here than it was yesterday. Are you trying to give yourself a heat stroke?"
There was a reason I didn't live in Vegas, despite my attraction to bright blinking lights. In the summer if you stepped outside, you’d singe your nose hairs, it was so freakin' hot. The same could be said for Texas, Arizona and L.A. Wait… there were a whole bunch of reasons to not live in L.A. I'd strike that from the list just because if the heat didn't kill you, the silicone would.
"Raise your body temperature and you won't feel it."
"If I knew how to do that, it would have been done already," I groused.
"What was that display with Hope yesterday then?"
"Panic? Rage? Panic?"
"Heh. Maybe you should head back to your rooms then. I'll ask Zeus to stop sending me toddlers."
"Are you always this much of a dick? Cause you know, if I'm expecting it…I uh - can expect it."
My clothes were stuck to my body again, which was making me grouchy. Sweat was pouring off of me in pools and I suddenly remembered that I wasn't wearing underclothes. Modesty kicked in and I pulled my shirt away from my chest in an awkward pretense of trying to cool off.
"I've seen breasts before, Grace."
"Really? I was starting to think that you might be gay." What? Where did that come from? It was time to seriously consider buying a muzzle.
A snort was my reply.
"I don't know where that came from. It's got to be the heat. But, uh, are you gay?"
"No, I'm not gay."
"It would be okay if you
were
gay. Some of my best friends are." I had a feeling that I was just making it worse.
"I can assure you that I am quite attracted to the female form."
This seemed too good to let go. My curiosity got the better of me and my mouth went into overdrive.
"Okay. So why haven’t you left your compound for so long? I haven't heard any rumors of booty calls, so what's up?"
"I doubt that my personal life is really any of your business. Have you raised your temp yet?"
I hadn't, but I wasn't letting this go. Heat stroke? Maybe.
"Do you sneak out when nobody is paying attention? I get that. Having everyone knowing your business is pretty hellish up here. I can't take a shit without everyone talking about it."
"So, if I were trying to protect my supposed midnight rendezvous, why in the world would I tell
you
? It seems to me that you have a hard time reigning in your tongue."
"Good point there." I changed the subject abruptly. "I'm kind of afraid that I'll set myself on fire if I raise my temp too much. I had a hell of a time yesterday cooling down. There are parts of my body that are still a little sunburned."
A blush colored my cheeks. If I didn't know better, I’d think I was trying to impress upon this man that I was a flighty ditz of a woman. Where did
that
come from? I wanted to assure him that I was ready to kick some ass, not interview him for the society pages.
Since when did I become a blathering idiot when dealing with men? It wasn't this hard with Drew, but I had to admit that I’d had my share of awkward moments. This was different. Maybe I wanted to impress him too much. Why, was the question?
He moved out of the shadows toward me and for the first time I saw his face in full light. I gasped before I could stop myself. A deep gash of a scar ran from below his jaw down across his chest. It looked like someone had taken a sword, chopped him in half and somehow the pieces didn't form back together properly.
Oddly enough, it didn't detract from his beauty. It just made him seem more solid.
"So, you find me hideous?" His voice was gruff as if expecting rejection.
"Lord, no. You're beautiful. Just like every other being in this place. Is this the stupid reason you hide away?"
That gave him pause. "You think I'm beautiful?" He scowled. "Grace Murphy, I think that your sister scrambled your brains when she was pounding your head on the pavement. Come over here, closer to the fire."
I sighed. "Okay, but at this rate I'm going to end up naked. It's too fucking hot in here to live."
"Raise your temperature." His voice radiated patience.
"What if I catch on fire?"
"Then you catch on fire."
Yeah, that was reassuring.
"You look like you're about to poop your pants, Grace. It's not that difficult. No…don't grunt. The saints preserve us."
I did kind of feel like if I pushed anymore, I was either going to give birth or have an embarrassing accident. "I don't know how I've gotten this far. It just happens when I get ragey."
"Okay, let's talk about the ‘ragey’ feelings. What are you picturing? What are you feeling?"
Those questions confused me. What did you feel when you went into a rage? White hot anger? I'd never stopped to investigate the individual emotions attached to them. It's not like I spent a lot of time in superbitch mode. Okay. What did we have?
"Anger? Frustration. Passionate hatred. White hot—" Oh, there it was, the room started cooling as the words tumbled out of my mouth. I sighed with relief and checked my skin for any signs of a flame up. I giggled then, thinking of carrying industrial sized Tucks pad around with me just in case I had a flare up. Grace Murphy - walking hemorrhoid.
"Better. The key is to raise it, but not too high. You don't want to burst into flames when someone cuts you off on the highway."
I started to protest but he raised an eyebrow in my direction, effectively silencing me.
"No, I don't believe that you don't get road rage. So, I read you at around 103 degrees Fahrenheit right now. How does that feel?"
"Less sticky," I responded. "How can you tell what temp I'm at?"
"Grace, I'm thousands of years old. How do you think? I practice."
"I'm so impatient."
"That's a very honest statement."
"Yes," I replied wryly. "I'm not in the habit of lying."
"Except to yourself."
I scowled. "This isn't about my broken psyche - it's about me learning how to control this fire."
"Isn't it? Your psyche plays a huge part in how you control the power. If you walk around in a constant rage, you'll end up burning something down. Am I wrong?"
"No," I groused. "You're not wrong. I don't want to think about how broken I am."
"Grace, pull your head out of your ass. You're not broken. You're just the same as anyone else. You've got problems. You've got emotions and you have a
life.
You think you're any more neurotic than Athena or Me or Georgie? You're not. Every one of us just does what they have to, to get by. I've burned down a few forests in my time. It doesn't make me broken. It makes me a normal, complex being."
Something clicked into place during this monologue and his words resonated so strongly that I shook myself out of my pity party. God, I hoped I didn't start crying.
"You can cry, Grace. It's okay. Just remember, argue for your limitations and they are yours to keep."
My jaw dropped at him. Crap not another damned mind reader. "No, I can't read your mind - your face is just extremely expressive. You may want to try working on a passive face."
"Oh, right. I can't seem to get the hang of that." I blushed.
"That's all right. We'll work on it. Now, lower your temperature. I want to take you somewhere and hypothermia isn't exactly pleasant."
He got a blank face.
He raised his hands in exasperation. "Why does Zachary do this to me? Grace, you raised it, bloody figure out how to lower it. I'll be back in a few minutes. I need to give instructions to my apprentice. Please, try not to burn my forge down. I'm fairly partial to it."
I was really tired of being thrown into the deep end of the lake and getting told that I needed to swim or sink. Oh wait…deep end of the lake! "Hah!" I exclaimed and pumped my fist into the air.
Steam rose in wisps from my skin as though I'd doused myself in water. Technically, it was only a visualization technique, but it worked. It seemed physically impossible but whatever. It
worked.
That’s all I really needed to know.
Dylan's mop of hair peeped around the corner. "Hey, Mom?"
"What's up?"
"Um, Master Hephaestus asked to reschedule your trip. Something has come up. He says that he will meet you outside the front door at dusk. Is that acceptable?"
"Has an alien taken over your body?"
He threw me a startled look and then blushed. "Nooo!"
"’Kay, just checking. Tell your Master that yes, this is acceptable. I'll be back then."
He breathed a sigh of relief and disappeared back around the corner. I didn't have any other plans for the day so I headed out to enjoy the sunshine. Maybe Athena was up for some swimming. Or maybe I'd make Marisol happy and write a few chapters.