Goddess of Light by P. C. Cast

smile as his eyes remained on the mortal.
    â€œIn the form of a man who is godlike. You, my dear Brother, are a god. So, what are you waiting for?” She shook her head at Apollo. Had he suddenly become dense? “I certainly am not what she desires, but she has bound me to fulfill her wish. You are my brother. The god closest to me in all of Olympus. That makes you the perfect god to rid me of this ridiculous problem.”
    â€œYes, it certainly does.” His smile widened.
    â€œOf course it does,” she agreed with him, noting his smug smile. Wasn’t this really what he desired, too? Wasn’t it just a few moments ago that he had been waxing poetic about Hades and his mortal lover? Now he had a chance to experience the love of a modern mortal—one who wasn’t already enamored with another god. For an instant she wondered if this mistake might actually be more than a coincidence. She glanced surreptitiously around them. Could Zeus be plotting something? No, she rejected the thought. It had been her idea alone to bring her brother to the Kingdom of Las Vegas to cheer him up. Apparently, the impulse had been a good one. The old-fashioned seduction of a mortal woman ought to do wonders for his morose mood. Feeling rather pleased with herself, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “Go to her. Romance her. Take her to bed. Fulfill her every erotic desire. Just be quick about it. It would probably be best if Zeus doesn’t hear about this. You and I can deal with Bacchus ourselves.” Then she added quickly, “You probably shouldn’t reveal yourself to her. It wouldn’t do to have a mortal woman telling others how she managed to bind the aid of a goddess and invoke golden Apollo to her bed.”
    He frowned at his sister. “Of course I won’t tell her.”
    â€œExcellent,” she said, rubbing her hands together as if she had just completed a job well done.
    â€œWhere will you be?”
    â€œWell, I certainly won’t be with you!” She grinned and gave his shoulder a playful punch. “I’m going to have one more of those lovely martini drinks, and then I’m returning to Olympus. I’ll meet you there tomorrow after the invocation has been fulfilled. You can give me a full report, and then we’ll decide what to do about Bacchus.” She gave him a little push forward and watched him walk towards the mortal who had unwittingly bound the aid of a goddess. She patted her hair, which was, of course, already perfectly arranged. Apollo should be back to normal by morning.
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    â€œ. . . IF you want to grant my wish, bring me a man who is really godlike for a change.”
    As she finished speaking, the hair on Pamela’s forearms tingled like a jolt of electricity had zapped its way through her body. Wow! She smiled an apology to the waiter, who quickly cleaned up the mess she’d made. She usually had a pretty good tolerance for wine, but her head was definitely feeling woozy. Good thing she wasn’t driving.
    â€œI’ll bring you another glass, ma’am,” the waiter said. Then he glanced at the tissue wrapped around her finger. “And how about a Band-Aid, too?”
    â€œThank you, that would be nice,” she said, ignoring how flushed she felt. He’d already turned away when she thought that she should probably have told him she’d just cork the bottle and take it to her room. That would be the sensible thing to do. She fiddled with the tissue. She didn’t feel like being sensible. Actually, besides being a little flushed and tipsy, she felt invigorated. It had been empowering to admit her desire aloud. Okay, the wine may have had something to do with it, but she liked to think that there was more to it. She had finally acknowledged something that had been unconsciously eating away at her for months, maybe even years—that Duane had somehow invisibly branded her as Nonromance Material.