Sebastian Cupid by J. J. Martin - HTML preview

EPILOGUE

A nicotine haze swirled around Russell’s hair as he pulled his eyes from yet another redhead. Another mortal. Another tall girl with pale skin. Does it stop? Did the longing ever fucking stop? He supposed he had the rest of eternity to figure it out.

Leaning back in his chair outside of the Gin Mill, Russ rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t need to be here. He didn’t need to see mortals anymore. He was no longer an integral part of mortal society. Oh, he mattered, alright. He was a blood donor. Still a bringer of balance. But why did he torture himself day in and day out, haunt the mortals’ streets at night, turning in panic and cursing himself at the sight of every leggy redhead?

Russell snorted into his gin and tonic. The last place a demigod would make her reappearance would be at some college dive in the middle of Chicago.

Lunging to his feet, Russell swayed into the sidewalk, leaving a twenty on the iron patio table beside his discarded drink. He was a little surprised at how intoxicated he was. Then again, he couldn’t rightly remember the last time he’d been stone sober. A month? Two? When did the hunt for Alex’s body begin? When did the initiative to find Venus and bring her to justice span the globe and the heavens, even the pits of the Underworld? Long, dark hair swung into his face as Russell watched his feet clump heavily from concrete section to concrete section of sidewalk.

Three months, six days, and almost two hours. He was kidding no one, least of all himself.

Time was a vacuum, and, long before he was expecting it, Russell arrived at the gates of the Temple. Seth lifted his hand in greeting, looking as though he might speak. Hurriedly, Russell shoved past him through the gates, barely catching the way Seth swallowed his words. No words. Russell couldn’t take anymore words.

It was dark night when Russell eased open the side entrance to Temple, knowing it would be empty. The lights were all off, the swirling patterns of moonlight made by the newly constructed Chicago Temple windows splashing the floor in color. Russell lifted his head and observed the most notable change in the new Temple forged by their gods: the Kross.

It was a beautiful and awesome sight. The height of three men, the Lead Arrow and Golden Arrow insignias intertwined together, their points swooping out at both sides to make the short arms of the Kross. A symbol of the new order of Arrows. Psyche had gotten her wish. At least someone had.

Going on alert, Russell recognized a new scent and swung around only to come face to face with Sebastian. Exhaling heavily, Russell prepared himself for the third lecture in as many days. “You’re up late.”

“Or you’re up early,” Sebastian muttered.

Russell shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Not when you have an eternity to feel sorry for yourself, I suppose.”

Chuckling, Russell turned back to the Kross. “Does it really matter? It’s not like Arrows are really Arrows anymore. We’re just donors. Venus was right about that.”

Sebastian cursed. “We all have to adjust to this, Russell. It’s new to all of us.”

“Your idea.”

“So it’s my fault too, is that it?”

Russell shrugged. “I don’t think fault matters anymore.”

“I didn’t kill her, Russell.”

Russell whipped his head around to glare at Sebastian. “Don’t worry, my memory’s clear there.” Russell marched away and stomped off before Sebastian had a chance to apologize for his ill-chosen words. “I’m going to bed.”

Sebastian stood there, feeling like a fool and failure until he felt Aspen touch his bare arm. Turning his face slightly toward her, he only sighed as his eyes met hers. Pressing her lips to his shoulder, Aspen turned her face into his back, her heart crying for them both.

Russell slammed into his room, not caring the echoing thump of the door probably made over a dozen Arrows turn in their beds. He felt like he had rocket fuel in his blood. He wanted to be able to set the walls, floor, curtains on fire just by touching them. He wanted to burn the world to the ground, and he wanted to go down with it. Breathing heavily, he stomped around the room, certain his rage was going to pull him apart. He threw the nearest thing he could touch, only understanding it was glass when he heard it shatter against the wall. Instead of purging, it festered, and his hands gripped everything in sight, tossing it into whatever would cause the most damage. Windows shattered and plaster crumbled. Somewhere in the haze of his rage, he heard the footfalls of Guardians running to his room.

As he turned to order them back, a desperate, severe pain ripped through his head, and he fell to his knees. As the door was ripped open, Russell looked up and met Hans’s gaze before he disappeared without warning.

J.J. Martin strives to present her audiences with tantalizing impossibilities made possible through love. A Meisner trained actor, J.J. uses her skill base of research and acting to create characters of considerable depth and complexity. She lives in Indiana with her daughter and their cats, Pugsley and Isabelle.

Her novel, Sebastian Cupid, is her second published book. She has also published Porter House, a paranormal romance. Her short story, Whales Call, was selected for publication in the 2011 Spring Edition of Shadowbox Magazine.

The second novel in the Arrows series is scheduled to release in the Fall of 2012.

www.jjmartinbooks.com