CHAPTER 6
Mason parked his truck, scanning the boardwalk for Pamela. Her car was right there; she had to be close by. He jogged toward the water, but there was no sign of the tall blonde. Dammit. His gaze wandered down the pier.
Oh fuck.
He was sprinting before he could fully process what he was seeing. Pamela was lifting up a woman at the end of the pier—a limp woman, paralyzed. And the closer he got, the more the woman resembled Clio.
It couldn’t be. She was packing to move in the morning. He pushed his legs harder, widening his stride, his lungs aching for more oxygen. He wasn’t going to get there in time.
Pamela held Clio up over her head and turned, smiling as he approached. “What do we have here? The God of Thunder couldn’t be bothered to save his own daughter? He sent a mortal man?”
The crescent-shaped birthmark under Mason’s arm throbbed, reminding him of something Pamela didn’t know, when Clio needed him, he could lift a boulder with his bare hands.
Without taking his gaze off Pamela, he gripped the top railing of the pier and ripped it free. Pamela’s eyes widened.
“Put her down,” Mason growled.
“You’re threatening me?” Pamela chuckled. “As you wish.”
She spun around and dropped Clio off the edge of the pier. Mason didn’t hesitate. He swung the beam with all the inhuman strength he possessed. A satisfying crunch sounded as it slammed into Pamela, followed by a thud as she fell motionless on the pier. Mason was up on the railing in two strides and dove into the waves below. The sting of the cold saltwater shocked his senses. He swam back to the surface, bursting through the waves.
“Clio!”
This was not going to happen again. Not to her. He dove under, kicking his legs until he shot through the ocean like a torpedo. A bright light suddenly lit up the surf. He broke through the surface to catch another breath. Lifeguards shouted from the beach. Someone must have seen her fall.
He dove again. She’d been underwater too long. Time was running out. With the floodlights on the water, he found a shadow. He pushed forward and caught her hand, pulling them both up toward the surface.
When he broke through the surf again, Clio remained silent, even as he gasped for air.
“No. No fucking way,” he shouted. Holding her tightly under her arms, he swam to the shore. He carried Clio out of the waves, laying her down on the sand and pressing her stomach. Nothing.
“Come on, darlin’. Please breathe.” He placed his mouth over hers, puffing air into her waterlogged lungs. He pulled back and rolled her onto her side. “Breathe for me.”
The lifeguards ran over with a kit, but before they could pull out their equipment, she coughed up seawater. Mason’s heart pounded in his ears. “That’s it.”
Her eyes met his, but she didn’t, or couldn’t, speak. He kissed her forehead. “You’re gonna be all right.”
Sirens blared as the fire department and paramedics rolled up onto the beach. The ambulance doors opened, and a familiar face rushed over with a medical kit.
Cooper dropped to his knees on the other side of Clio. He took out his stethoscope. “What happened?”
“She’s paralyzed.” Mason held her hand, afraid to let her go.
“How?” Cooper frowned as he tightened the blood pressure cuff on her arm.
Mason looked down at the end of the pier. Unless his swing had knocked Pamela’s head off her shoulders, he’d bet his only truck she was still alive, but there was no way he was leaving Clio right now. Justice would have to wait. “I can’t explain it now.”
Cooper called out some numbers to his partner and lowered his voice. “Did she hit her head?”
“No.” Mason met his eyes. “Call Nate and tell him it was Pamela.”
“I will,” Cooper promised. “After we get Clio to the hospital.”
Cooper’s partner brought over a board, and Mason helped slide it underneath Clio. Her gaze was intent on Mason’s face. Without her glasses, he wasn’t sure how much she could see.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed her hand.
Once they were inside the rig, Cooper started an IV of fluids, and Mason lifted her hand to his lips. “You gave me a scare.”
Cooper handed Mason a blanket. “In case you want to get that wet shirt off. I can get you a clean one at the hospital.”
“Thanks, man.” Mason released Clio’s hand just long enough to pull his shirt up over his head. Once he had it off, both Clio and Cooper were staring at him. Mason frowned, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
Cooper glanced at Clio and then back at Mason. “You have a red mark under your arm.”
“Oh, it’s just a birthmark.” That didn’t seem to calm either of them. “I’m okay. Really.”
A single tear slipped out the corner of Clio’s eye. Mason leaned in close to her as he wiped it away. “What can I do?”
She didn’t move, but he swore she whispered, “It’s you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and his gaze shot to Cooper. “Is she all right?”
He checked her vitals and nodded. “Yeah. She’s probably just exhausted. We’ll be at the hospital in a minute.”
Clio blinked her eyes open and winced. Her entire body ached, but her toes were moving. She stretched and couldn’t contain a groan. Gods, it was amazing to have her body respond to her brain again.
Mason stirred in the chair beside the bed. He came to her side and took her hand in his. “You can move.”
She nodded. “You saved my life. Again.”
“I can’t say the same for your glasses.”
She chuckled and gasped. “Oh, it hurts to laugh.” She met his eyes. “I have an extra pair at home.” She frowned. “I need to get home.”
Mason squeezed her hand. “Trinity and Erica are getting coffee, but we’ll get your stuff moved while you’re healing up.”
Clio shook her head. “I don’t care about my stuff. I can’t stay here in the hospital. I’m fine.”
The truth was, she couldn’t afford the one night she had already apparently spent here. The threat of another day—and more tests that she had no idea if her insurance would cover—made her head spin.
Mason frowned. “They just want to make sure there’s no permanent damage.”
Trinity and a very pregnant Erica came into the room. Trin handed Mason a coffee. She and Erica were best friends and had been roommates until Erica had moved in with her Guardian, Reed. Trinity was the Muse of Music and wrote the melodies, while Erica was the Muse of Lyrics and Erotic Poetry. Even though they didn’t live together anymore, they still worked together—probably would for their entire lives.
Clio smiled at Erica. Her inherent sensual nature had taken on a deeper glow as her pregnancy progressed, and she wore her pregnancy as if creating new life was her destiny.
“You’re awake.” Trinity came over to Clio’s bedside. “You won’t believe this, but you’re pretty lucky.” She smiled, gripping the railing on the bed. “It was high tide when she tossed you off the pier so you didn’t have as far to fall, but somehow the surf didn’t slam you into any of the posts under the pier.”
Erica tipped her head toward Mason. “And thank the gods our carpenter also happens to be a great swimmer.”
Clio pushed a button on the rail, raising the bed so she could sit up. “I was definitely lucky.”
Before she could beg them to get her out of the hospital, a tall doctor came through the door. He grabbed her chart and scanned all the faces in the room. “You’ve got a lot of company today.”
“I’m trying to persuade them to take me home,” Clio admitted.
A crease formed on his forehead as he lowered the chart. “You’re a quick healer. No trouble with your speech patterns or finding the right words?”
“No.” Clio stole a glance at Mason. Had she dreamed the Guardian’s mark under his arm? She hadn’t been wearing her glasses at the time, but the red crescent had been unmistakable.
She forced herself to look at the doctor again. “Speaking hasn’t been a problem.”
“Good.” He uncovered her feet. “Can you move your toes for me?”
She did, and then she moved her legs for good measure. “I’m feeling fine, so if I didn’t break any bones, I’d like to get home.”
He skimmed her chart again. “The CT scan and MRI don’t show any signs of a concussion, but I’d like to run a couple more tests to see if we can pinpoint what brought on the paralysis.”
Pamela’s face flashed in her mind. Clio shook her head. “I swear I’ll make an appointment with my primary care doctor. I can’t stay here.”
“The food isn’t that bad.” He chuckled.
Clio didn’t smile. “Please. I’m a substitute history teacher. I have no idea if any of this will be covered by my crummy insurance.” She gestured to her friends. “I’ve got plenty of people to keep an eye on me if it looks like I’ve got head trauma or something.”
The doctor didn’t look happy about it, but after checking her vitals, scans, and reflexes once more, he finally agreed to release her. He made eye contact with everyone in the room. “If I let her go home, she’s not to be alone for at least twenty-four hours.”
Trinity nodded. “We can do that.”
After the doctor stepped out to start processing her discharge paperwork, Mason stood up. “Excuse me, y’all, but could I get a minute alone with Clio?”
Trin shot Erica a knowing glance, and their pregnant friend grinned. “We’ll give you two.” She winked, and she and Trinity wandered out into the hallway.
Mason looked down at Clio, concern shining in his eyes. “I need to tell you something and it’s going to sound crazy, but you’ve gotta hear me out, okay?”
Clio frowned, nodding slowly. “All right.”
Whatever he had to say, it couldn’t be as crazy as her trying to explain about her and her friends embodying the spirits of the mythical Greek muses, Pamela being immortal, and oh yeah, Zeus having marked Mason as her Guardian.
He glanced over his shoulder and kept his voice low. “You’re not safe as long as Pamela is around.” He took her hand in both of his. “She’s hunting women…like you.”
“Like me?” Clio struggled to process his warning. How did he know Pamela?
“Yes.” A muscle clenched in his jaw. “I’m guessing you must know the Greek muses are real. The name of your theater can’t be a coincidence, right?” His eyes searched hers. “Please don’t tell me I’m crazy. I’m not saying you’re the actual muse, I know you’re not ancient—you’re still mortal, but the spirit of the original Muse of History is inside you.” He stopped rambling, and a muscle in his cheek clenched. “And Pamela wants to snuff her out.”
Clio blinked, staring at him, slack-jawed. “How do you know that?”
He squeezed her hand. “I swear I’m not nuts.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“You do?” A crease formed between his eyebrows.
“How do you know about the muses?” she asked, eyes narrowed on him.
He released her hand, raking his fingers through his hair. “My older cousin, Sadie. She was fifteen years older than me and practically raised me. Anyway, the girl could tame lions with her singing. When I was a little guy she used to tell me stories about Euterpe, the Muse of Music. One time I told her I thought her music was so pretty she had to be Euterpe.” He shrugged. “And then she told me everything and made me promise it would stay our secret. I’ve never told a soul until now.”
Clio scooted up in bed to sit more upright. She wished she had her glasses. When he paced away from her, his face blurred. “I can’t see you over there.”
“Sorry.” He came back over to the bed, his gaze searching her face. “I loved my cousin, and I couldn’t save her.”
Clio reached up to caress his cheek. “I have so much to tell you.” She glanced at the door. “But first, you’ve got to get me out of here.”
“I’m on it, darlin’.” He turned to go, but Clio caught his arm.
When he faced her again, she pulled him close. Losing herself in his eyes, she whispered, “Kiss me before you go.”
He started to smile. “I thought that was a bad idea…”
“I don’t care.”
He cupped her face, claiming her lips over and over until her heart thundered in her ears. When he drew back, his gaze locked on hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
Mason stepped into the hallway and headed for the nurses’ station. Trinity and Erica looked up as he approached. Erica’s flirty smile was gone, and Trinity crossed her arms.
Mason raised a brow. “Did I miss something?”
Trinity glanced at Erica and back up to him. “We love you for saving Clio’s life. She would’ve drowned if you hadn’t been there.”
“But Clio has a big destiny ahead of her,” Erica chimed in, “and she’s been so focused on the past that she has a hard time living in the present.”
Before he could ask what the hell was going on, Trinity spoke again. “We’re saying that we’ve all seen the way you look at her, and you’ve saved her life twice now, but I swear to the gods, if you break her heart, we will personally kick your ass.”
Suddenly, it took all he had to choke back his smile. He nodded slowly, keeping his voice even. “She’s got some great friends.”
Erica’s hands rested on her full belly. “We love Clio, but we’ve got to warn you, she’s been reading all the epic love stories throughout history. She has been waiting for a man marked by the gods and chosen by fate to be hers.”
“I don’t know about being marked by the gods, but…” He raised a brow. “Are you saying I’m not good enough for her?”
Trinity lowered her arms, a smile creeping onto her face. “We’re trying to help you, Mason.”
He tipped his head. “How so?”
Trinity’s gaze shifted down the hall toward Clio’s room. “We like you, so do us a favor: when the day comes that she starts dumping some seriously crazy information on you, believe her.”
Erica nudged him. “Don’t cut and run, because if you make her cry…”
He put his hands up in mock surrender. “You’ll kick my ass.”
“And we could do it.” Trinity grinned. “Don’t test us.”
“No, ma’am.” Mason chuckled, studying them both. If he was right about Clio, then the other members of Muses Anonymous, LLC who paid his invoices were probably all the real deal, too. But how many times were the muses reborn? He had no idea, but Sadie had drowned twenty-five years ago. Wait…how old was Trinity? He’d gone to one of her concerts. Her music inspired every person who heard it.
Just like his cousin’s had.
He turned to Erica. He’d seen her at the jobsite a few times, and he’d witnessed her flirtatious nature firsthand, the fire she stoked in everyone she came in contact with. And she wrote the lyrics for Trinity’s melodies.
Mason shook his head slowly, focusing on Trinity. “I thought you all named your company and the theater what you did for branding purposes, but you’re the Muse of Music, aren’t you?” He looked over at Erica. “And you must be Erato, right? Lyrics and erotic poetry?”
They stared at him like he had grown moose antlers. For a second, he thought he’d made a huge mistake.
Erica grabbed his arm and dragged him over to an empty alcove by the elevators. “How do you know that?”
Trinity flanked him. He was right. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve been tracking Pamela Costas across the country. She wants to kill every daughter of Zeus.”