Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (14 page)

There were three teenagers––a boy and two girls––dressed in dirtied jeans and t-shirts, grooming the hedges. The boy snipped, one girl collected the fallen foliage, and the other girl swept. They didn't even look up, but kept their heads and eyes turned away as they moved along the hedges, one behind the other.

"Who are they?" She whispered to Ace. The others had started another game of archery and were already ignoring them.

"Orphs," He replied, barely giving them a second glance.

"Orphs?"

"Yeah. Slang for orphans, or undeclared demigods."

"They're demigods, too?"

"Yeah, but they're undeclared, which means they're unimportant."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "To have a place in our world, you have to be
declared
, which means your celestial parent has to officially say you’re worthy of
hero
status. It’s like sayin’, you’re their kid and everyone should acknowledge it. If they don’t, you're a nobody, an
orph,
jus' some unhinged kid of a god. And if you're not declared by your eighteenth birthday then…" He shrugged like he couldn't care less what happened at that point.
He
had already been declared. He turned his head to let her see the back of his neck. There was a small, glittering gold brand of a horseshoe there, an
omega
. She looked around and noticed they all had brands. "It''s the crest of the Olympians, and every declared has it branded on their neck. Tha's how you can tell
heroes
from orphs." He turned back. "PODA keeps track of the orphs and hires them out to other gods until their parents declare them
heroes
, or don't."

"PODA?"

"Yeah. The Parents of Demigods Alliance. It's operated by our human parents." Something flashed in Ace's eyes then. Something very unsettled, but he pushed it away and continued. "Sometimes the Alliance places orphs in the service of other gods who need them through
H.E.R.O
.,
H
onor for
E
very
R
ejected
O
utcast. But PODA is
every
demigods' life support, even
heroes
. The Alliance builds our schools and built the University in Olympus and it constructed a hospital and housin' for demigods who've been forced to retire from demigod life due to permanent injuries. But most importantly, they're the main sponsors for the Olympics. Without PODA
,
demigods wouldn't even have a stake in this world of gods and immortals. And in tha' case, there'd probably be no
heroes
at all, jus' a bunch of bloody orphs."

The concept behind PODA sounded awesome, but Chloe couldn't wrap her mind around the orphan thing. "So basically, the gods exploit poor demigods whose loser parents deny their worth…and the pleasure of branding them like cattle?"

He barked out a laugh and twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. "I really do like you, Chloe."

"I'm serious, Ace. Why do some demigods have to be left in the cold because the gods don't think they're
worthy
enough?" She knew what it was like to be brushed aside by a parent––to be forgotten as if she never existed…to feel unworthy of being loved. She was taking all of this very personal.

"It's jus' the way things are," He replied. "We accept it, and you'll have to, too."

She crossed her arms. "Well, that would explain why you guys are all decked out in designer gear and they're wearing those ill-fitting clearance finds."

Ace nodded and dusted off his tattooed skate shoes. "Being declared pays well." He gestured at her. "Looks like being the Oracle isn' such a bad gig to have either."

She didn't bother to look down at her expensive rags. "I didn't ask for these clothes."

"You didn' have to," He replied, "You're chosen so they're yours by right. The world is yours now, Chloe. Jus' speak it and it's done."

"Take me home."

Ace laughed. "'Cept tha'. Besides, tha's Strafford's call. You can't go home until he says you can."

She snorted. "And you said I'm not a hostage."

"You're not. You're our guest." He winked.

"I have an escape plan in the works, you know."

He laughed again. "I think you'll find tha' to be much easier planned than accomplished. Besides, you already accepted the honor. And in this world, there are no take-backs…" He started backing away, heading towards the others whose game of archery had just gotten real as Bill zipped through the air carrying the target in his talons. "Stay a while, Chloe. I think you'll like it here with us." He turned away.

But there was just one more thing she needed to know. “Ace!” He stopped, looked back at her. “Am I really in the heavens?”

He grinned and nodded. Then, his competitive spirit took him away and he got lost in the game.

She sat down at the table and started building her dream monster sandwich. There was a delicious nectar juice sitting in a pitcher nearby and she poured herself a glass. While trying to keep it lady-like and not shove the entire sandwich down her throat, she contemplated everything Ace had just told her.

She was in the heavens somewhere. For real. Check.

There were a few downsides to being the child of a god.

Like a lack of sympathy and kindness for those less fortunate.

Check.

Did Ace really expect her to think like him though, to just accept treating others like they were beneath them as cool, after she had been treated just that way almost her entire life?
Pfft
. He had to be kidding. There was no way she could ever treat another person, declared child of a god or not, like they were nothing. She just had a certain respect for people that they didn't seem to share. Fine. They could treat the orphs however they wanted, but she would be different. She would go out of her way to be as kind to the undeclared demigods as she could. Because truly, she could relate...

She clapped when Hector made a bullseye coming out of a handless cartwheel. It really was an amazing thing to see. Theseus backflipped off of the table and hit the target in midair. Swindle made contact with it as Bill zigged and zagged the target through the sky. Ace did it blindfolded.

They were spectacular in so many ways. These children of the Greek gods, these
heroes
with their sparkling branded necks. She sighed to herself, because another thing had become crystal clear.

Just like in her own world, she didn't belong here either.

*****

XI. Strafford

"Get up."

Strafford had made the effort to sound harsh more for his sake than for hers. If he hadn't said something––and hadn't said it with a definitive purpose––he might have watched Chloe Clever sleep for the rest of the morning. She would never know how hard he had contemplated doing just that. He hadn't seen her in a week, and this was the reason why. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Gods, she looked just like an angel sleeping there. A beautiful, red haired angel with pretty pink lips and crystal blue eyes. An angel designed to torture and test his iron-strong resolve to remember who he was to her.

Her guardian…and nothing more.

This was a hard thing for him to accept. See, he was the Sun Prince, and as such, he was used to getting what he wanted, and if what he wanted wasn't freely given, he simply helped himself to it. He had always been afforded that right as a Prince, even one as disgraced as he was, and no one could say much about it.

And he wanted her.

He must've been off his nut to return to the Chateau after all of these years away. But what could an infamous demigod Prince do when he was summoned to one of the greatest honors a child of Apollo––or
anyone––
could have? As guardian of the Oracle of Delphi? After all the tragedy and shame he'd suffered through, his honor meant everything to him now. The word "no" had not been in his vocab.

So he had left Ireland, and now, looking at her, he realized that had been a mistake––a
dangerous
mistake. He shouldn't be here, but here he was, standing over the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, all jittery and anxious as hell. Intimidated, one might even have the guts to say and he was tempted to just clear out. But a
true
demigod didn't run away from
anything
. They welcomed the good, the bad, and the piss-in-pants terrifying with open arms and a bouquet of flowers.

Ha!
That
was one paradox that made him want to laugh out loud.

"Get up
," he said again, his hands fisted tight in the pockets of his hoodie.

Chloe finally peeked out from under her lids, shifted around, then her eyes flew open as she sat up so fast that he was sure her brain shifted into jell-o mode.

"Strafford," She breathed.

Ahh, yes
, he liked the way she said his name, with sleep still heavy on her voice. And that look in her eye…had she been dreaming about him? It was possible, right?

Don't be thick, Law. She's only lookin' at you like tha' 'cause you startled her out of her sleep.

But a moment later, he realized he was wrong. She wasn't staring because she had been caught in the middle of dreaming about him. She wasn't ogling with those pretty blue eyes because she had just been jolted awake.
Nope
.

She was flat out, unabashedly
admiring
him.

He bit his lip hard to keep from smiling.

He let her get her fill and take her time doing it. Hell, he even fought the urge to do a little spin for her. Everyone thought he was handsome, but he
knew
it. Shame hadn't consumed his
entire
ego. From his black hoodie that zipped together to spell out G-U-C-C-I in white letters, to his distressed
Kenneth Cole
jeans and black leather
Prada
boots, he knew he looked good. His coal black hair looked liked some wan had been running her fingers through it, and his gray eyes…well, no wan could resist those. But he wasn't worried about others…only the beautiful wan in front of him right then.

She ogled him for a long time––far too long for his comfort, so he frowned.
Blah
, it was the only thing he could think to do. True, he liked to be admired, but now that the admirer was Chloe, he was feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious all of a sudden. Not a cool thing to have going on at the moment. Not a cool thing to have going on
ever
.

She dropped her eyes, saving him, and fussed with wrinkles in the sheet. He almost smiled. At least he was making her more uncomfortable than she was making him.

"I mean, good morning, Your Royal Highness," She mumbled, her eyes still downcast.

He swallowed a laugh. Who in the bloody hell had told her to call him that? Probably Hector, that wanker. "It's okay to call me Strafford," he said.

She looked up and a small smile graced the lips he was dying to get his 'good morning kiss' on with. "Okay, Strafford."

"Brilliant," He replied, "Now, today is an important day and we have things we need to do. So get movin'."

"What's today?"

"Wednesday." It was a total avoidance of the real question, but he couldn't very well tell her today was the day she would sign her life away.

She rolled her pretty blue eyes at his vague response, but didn't push it. "What time is it?"

"Six."

She sighed. "The perfect time of day. I'm such a morning person."

He almost said "I know", and that he had watched her jog around her neighborhood almost every morning for weeks and knew that she loved the early hours more than any other time. But he didn't think coming off as a stalker would help his cause with her in the least.

"I can't sleep after sunrise," He said instead, "Or before sunset."

Her eyebrows raised. "Really?"

He nodded slowly, watching her. "My physical clock is connected to the sun and where it is in the sky. In the mornin', when the sun is low, I'm more like this, calm, chill. By midday, with the sun at its highest, I'm more riled up, battle-ready, a true demigod." He paused. "But after the sun sets, I become…
different
."

Translation: I become a flirt like you've never seen before. You should beware. In fact, just avoid me all together.

Ace would argue he was
always
in flirt mode and he couldn't deny it. But what could anyone expect of him? He was the highest born son of Apollo and closely related to Zeus––two legendary seducers. It was in his essence,
especially
as a royal.

The red head did not know who she was dealing with.

Crazy, it had only taken seeing her picture once––the picture Apollo had sent him of the girl he would become the guardian of––and he had known. He had known that he wanted her. He wanted to protect her, wanted her to need him. He had known he would do anything to keep her safe. He'd known that she would be the one to bring light back into his sunless existence.

This was
fate
.

The whole situation was so poetic and sweet it made him sick to his stomach.

"Different how?" Chloe asked, obviously curious.

He paused for dramatic effect and bit his lip. "Jus'…
different
." He let the word linger in the air like a fragrance and hoped she'd inhaled.

"What's your tattoo of?" She gestured at his arm.

"You wanna see it?"

"Sure. If that's okay with you…"

He was already unzipping his hoodie. He peeled it off and tossed it onto one of the Greek lounges. "It's a dragon," He said, approaching her and pushing up the sleeve of his black
elephant skull tee so she could see the full beast…the dragon
and
him.

She sat up a little straighter. Her eyes followed the tat up as it wrapped around his muscular arm––the head resting on his shoulder, the tip of its' tail ending at his middle finger. "Wow. Did it hurt?"