Sweet Hell (8 page)

The effect was striking, making his whole appearance somehow even more masculine—and highly erotic. Josie found herself wondering, as she did whenever she saw a kilted Scotsman, if he had anything on under that white robe.

"N-now I know I'm underdressed,” she stammered, unable to tear her eyes from his exposed body parts.

For the first time since knowing him, he looked shy, but pleased. “This is just my god get-up. Much more comfy."

"Comfy, right,” she murmured. Meanwhile, she stared at his bare legs, and the thought racing through her head was, “Easy access! Easy access!"

Dionysus looked away from her, frowning. In fact, despite the tranquil, country surroundings, he didn't look impressed at all. He was more stern than she'd ever seen him. On guard.

For the first time, she noticed he was carrying a weird stick. It looked like a walking stick with a pine cone stuck on the end. “What's that thing?"

"That thing,” he said, “is my
thyrsus
. In the old days, it was a symbol of my power. It's a fennel staff and can be used as a weapon. I thought it might come in handy."

"No offense, Dionysus, but it looks like you made your ‘weapon’ in grade two art class. It doesn't look too butch to me."

He stared at her and grunted in warning.

Her attention was diverted by a swishing sound. Gliding down the river toward them was a boat, much like the gondolas packing the canals in Venice. Steering it was a smiling, handsome man with dark hair winging over his shoulders. A man who looked so familiar, like a beloved face from her childhood.

He approached. Josie blanched.

"Is that David Cassidy?"

Dionysus turned to her, frowning, and attempted to turn her face away from her childhood idol. “Josie, look at me. Look at
me
!” She did, begrudgingly. “It's not who you think it is. It's Charon, the ferryman of Hades. He brings new souls to the underworld."

"But isn't he supposed to be ... skeletal. And not wearing bell-bottoms?” She darted another look at David Cassidy, who winked at her. She grinned back like a fool. God, she'd loved watching
Partridge Family
reruns with her mom, even long after the show had gone off the air. It was one of her favorite memories from her youth.

"If you remember nothing about what I've told you, remember this,” Dionysus warned. “Everything here is an illusion, Josie. You're seeing what you want to see. Your teen idol. A happy meadow. Don't be fooled by the mirage. Because of who I am, I can see past all this. Believe me, I'm not seeing the same things."

His words made a chill run down her spine. Charon/David offered her a hand to get into the boat, but Dionysus whacked it with his fennel stick thing, making the ferryman yelp in pain. Dionysus insisted on helping her into the boat himself. The ferryman chuckled, clearly unoffended, and pushed off again down the river.

Josie sat on a little bench and Dionysus huddled next to her. He put his arm around her and she was glad of it. In fact, despite the outlandish situation, she was very glad of his company. Liked being with him. Liked how he was taking care of her. Now, if she could only forget the fact they were boating toward the place of eternal torment.

"Why is it like this?” she asked. “You know, full of illusion."

"Call it curb appeal,” he remarked dryly. “You'll be more likely to buy the house if you like the landscaping in front."

He kept looking all around, as if expecting an attack. She couldn't help feeling nervous, in spite of the comforting setting. “What do you see?"

Dionysus gritted his teeth. “You don't want to know."

Josie felt her heart sink into her shoes.

The ferryman continued rowing silently, and for a few minutes, they were silent too. At one point, a butterfly landed on her pant leg. It was lovely, with blue wings and a mottled body. Josie put out a finger toward it, but Dionysus was quicker. He aimed his
thyrsus
at it, and the stick lit up like a light saber. A blast of hot light shot from it, killing the butterfly instantly. He picked the remains off her pant leg and wiped the mess on the side of the boat.

He looked sternly at her. “I told you not to touch anything."

"It was just a pretty little bug."

"And remember when I told you I could see past the mirage of this place?"

She nodded.

"Well,” he muttered, looking with distaste at the dead insect smudge. “Let's just say that wasn't a pretty little bug."

Swallowing, she huddled closer to him. Christ! Even the butterflies in hell were evil!

And that
thyrsus
thingy was more battle-worthy than it looked!

Again, they did not speak for a few minutes, but before long, her curiosity got the better of her. “Will you know where to find Eurydice?"

"I have some ideas."

"If it's really been that long, maybe she won't want to leave. What if she doesn't want to join Orpheus in his section of hell?"

"There's always that possibility, but I think she will. She did love him very much.” He regarded her with a curious expression. As if there was so much he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it. As if he was trying to figure her out at the same time. And she couldn't look away. Didn't want to look away.

Thankfully, he continued talking and broke the spell for the time being. “I feel sorry for Eurydice,” he said. “She was an innocent. It's not fair she was condemned as a lost soul. It wasn't her fault her lover turned into such a monster."

"What did he do?” Josie whispered. “I remember the myths always talking about Orpheus like he was this beautiful, tragic character."

"Tragic, my ass,” he muttered. “Of course, he was saddened by Eurydice's death, but it doesn't excuse his behavior afterward. He became depraved, lost all sense of conscience. He just wanted revenge on the gods. But he took it out on regular people. He buggered little boys, raped, and maimed others, just for the sick thrill of it. And he killed one of my friends. One of my maenads.” He paused, as if holding back some information. “Among others."

"Maenads. I remember reading about them. They were your followers.” She was almost afraid to ask, was too bothered by the thought of Dionysus at an orgy. Surrounded by wanton women who would do anything for him. How many of them had been “special” friends of his? As much as the idea made her gut turn over, she continued, “Weren't they drunken, crazy women?"

He grinned at the memory. “Nah. They could get a little silly on the sauce, but they were mostly misunderstood.” He got serious again when he saw her doubtful gaze. “Seriously, Josie, on his worst day, even Caligula could never outdo Orpheus."

"How could she love him, then?"

"She probably doesn't know the man he became. In Hades, she'd have no concept of what was happening in the mortal world.” He shrugged. “We'll reunite them, but it won't be our fault if she decides not to stay with him. We'll have done our bit. And besides, I can't have him threatening you."

As he spoke those words, so close to her face, Josie felt the tingle of desire shoot through her core. His arms felt so good around her. Strong. Possessive. His intoxicating scent continued to mess with her senses, making her want to drink him in, to absorb him. She realized she was suffering from a major case of the cha-chas for him.

But they were in hell. How on earth would they ever find an opportunity to kiss, or anything, in this strangely frightening place?

She really wished they could find Eurydice right away and deliver the unsuspecting woman to her loony husband. And then Josie was pretty sure she was going to beg Dionysus, almighty friend to barflies everywhere, to make love to her in every possible way.

But then, remembering another man who'd made her feel the same way once, she was determined not to let it happen. She couldn't.

Steeled by her hateful recollections, she moved her body away from Dionysus by an inch or two. And tried to ignore his angry grunt.

David Cassidy stopped rowing, and the boat bumped against the riverbank, effectively bringing her back to reality. Her teen hero turned to her and held out a gracious hand, but once again, the god swatted it away.

He helped her out of the boat, and she watched as the ferryman pushed off. As he did, he smiled his most beautiful “I Think I Love You” smile at her. Which would have been really sexy if it weren't for the fact his teeth were now black and rotten, and a green mist was seeping out of his open mouth. As he rowed away, the David Cassidy facade fell from him like a useless blanket, and Charon became a ghastly, ghoulish beast. His eyes, so fixed on her, were devoid of life or of sympathy. Empty pockets of black nothingness.

Josie shuddered, and, despite her clear intention to stay away from Dionysus's tantalizing body, she turned right into his sheltering embrace.

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Chapter 7

After a few minutes of walking, Josie started to feel a distinct sense of deja vu, although God only knew she shouldn't. She'd never been there before and was starting to feel she never wanted to come back. Sure, the scenery could be enticing, but she'd seen enough of creepy ferrymen dressed as 1970s singers and double-agent butterflies to know Hades was not her cup of tea.

But would she come back when she died? She couldn't resist asking Dionysus. After all, if anyone would have those kinds of answers, he was the most likely of her acquaintances.

"It's not really that simple,” he said by way of explanation. He looked at her as if deciding how much to reveal and squeezed her hand rather than elaborating.

"Can't you talk about it? Are you forbidden?"

"I'm forbidden to do a lot of things,” he chuckled. “Despite what you may have heard about me. Let me put it like this, if you live a good life and treat people well, chances are you won't end up in Hades. The people of my time used to believe all the dead came here, but it's not true. The only souls who end up in this place are the ones who are, well, lost. Troubled when they die."

"But Eurydice? You said she was an innocent."

"Yes, but she was ... unsettled at the time of her death. She died on her wedding day. She'd been pursued by a satyr, was running from him, and ended up stepping on a poisonous snake. There must have been enough turmoil in her soul when she passed that she ended up here.” Dionysus offered her a little smile, to console her after hearing the story.

It didn't make her feel any better. “So, basically, I could be a good person and still go to hell just because I die with shit on my mind?"

He hugged her around the shoulders, bringing her in tight to his body. “I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

They continued walking, and she realized they were walking on sand now. Beautiful, golden sand. And she smelled salt in the air. “Are you able to see when I'll die?"

"No,” he was quick to assure her. “That's one of the things I can't do. And I can't bring someone back from death either."

"Why not?” she inquired, tempted to take her flats off and walk barefoot in the sand. “Seems to me that should be one of the perks of your job."

Dionysus frowned. “In truth, if I tried, I could resurrect someone from death. But we've been prohibited from doing so. Eons ago, Ares tried to resurrect a dead soldier so he could send him into a pivotal battle.” He grimaced. “It wasn't a good scene. A little too much like a bad zombie movie. None of us are permitted to do it now."

"Oh,” Josie whispered, trying really hard not to imagine the implications. She'd always been terrified of
Night of the Living Dead
and preferred not to think about it.

Luckily, within seconds, she was distracted by a noise. One she'd never expected to hear in Hades.

It was the sound of waves crashing.

She looked around. They really were on a beach. And it seemed so familiar!

There were sandcastles all around, as if children had been playing, although no one was on the beach but them. She could see umbrellas in the sand, towels lying in places, and picnic baskets scattered all over. Just no people.

The beach itself was lovely, dotted in places with big shells that had washed ashore. There were seagulls flying above them, and the water looked so blue and inviting. It gently lapped at the shore, and every so often, a larger wave would build, its white top rushing forward to pulverize the sand.

"I've seen this place before,” she uttered, staring at the waves, feeling suddenly hypnotized. She suddenly felt the need to abandon Dionysus, wanting, for some strange reason, to throw herself into the surf. Although she didn't know why, she felt the compulsion to swim out to the open sea and venture deeper and deeper.

As if her new home ought to be in the blue darkness.

Dionysus turned her to look at him. His gorgeous face was etched in lines of worry as he gripped her arms. “Josie. Josie! Snap out of it."

"I don't understand..."

"We're in the first level of hell. They call this place ‘The Ordeal,'” he explained. “It's different here for everyone, but one thing is the same. This is a place where you are forced to face your worst fear. You need to tell me, Josie. What is your worst fear? Something to do with beaches? Are you afraid of the water?"

She couldn't answer. Her mind felt so foggy. All she knew was that she wanted to swim in those tempting waves. They looked warm and clear, and she couldn't help feeling they would just envelop her and rock her.

They would make her sleep the most peaceful of sleeps.

She tried to pull away from Dionysus.

"Josie! You have to stay with me!"

"But it looks so nice in the water..."

"It's an illusion! Remember?"

He was reaching for her, grasping, but she was already sliding out of his grip. She never thought to question how she could do so. He was a big, muscled god with powers she'd likely never fully understand. And yet, one, little pull on her part, and she was free of his strong hold on her.

Good.

She wanted to swim, even though she could feel a distant memory tugging on her brain. Warning her to stay with Dionysus on the beach. Warning her to take note of the panic in his brown eyes, of the desperate way he was reaching for her.