Page 2 of Achille's Earth Angel
The rapid beating of her heart was due to the shock she’d received when the man had attacked her. Thank God her professor friend and trainer at the college in Athens had been intentionally jumping out at her from dark corners so she could practice getting out of sudden holds. It was like an electric shock to the system when he’d suddenly appear, but it had also taken the shock of debilitating fear away.
No, the breathlessness was from the instant attraction she felt to the first male in front of her. She tingled all over, her eyes drinking him in like a thirsty sponge. Muscles abounded everywhere, even his muscles had muscles. Golden, bulging muscles that her fingers itched to touch and her body wanted to crawl all over.
Both men were dressed weird, like they were out of some movie set of ancient Greece or something. White, open-throated tunics with gold thread edging coming down over tight-fitting leggings to the calf and ending up with sandaled feet. Cool and comfortable in Greece’s summer climate.
The impossibly handsome one smiled. “We heard you scream and thought you might need some help,” he replied in gravelly tones that danced across her abdomen and puckered her breasts, “but I can see that the thought was misplaced.”
“You mean she got lucky,” interjected the other one dryly. “Epaphras is just a sea pup.”
“Even pups can be dangerous.” Green eyes flashed in annoyance at the friend behind him.
Both men exuded a dominant strength that had Ange prickling like a sudden case of heat rash. Not just the muscles bulging in their clingy tunics, but an air about them, like men who had conquered their world and feared no man or beast. Her thoughts echoed the first one’s question. Where in Hades had they come from?
“You had no right to interfere, Achilles,” whined Epaphras from the sand. “And you either, Hercules. Just wait until I tell my father. Dad will have Zeus fry you both with a thunderbolt.”
Ange identified the gloriously handsome one as Achilles when he smiled suddenly, although it wasn’t a good smile now. The humor evaporated from his striking green eyes. “I’d say we are at a draw, Epaphras, you aren’t supposed to be here either. Your father will have the Kraken nibbling on your toes if he finds out you’ve violated the mandate. Now go on, get out of here.”
“And keep your mouth shut,” Hercules added with a warning look.
“Go sit on a sword, Heracles,” Epaphras snarled, using his given name at birth.
Ange watched in stunned amazement as the one called Epaphras got to his feet and limped into the sea, disappearing swiftly from view. When he didn’t reappear, she shook her head, unable to believe her eyes.
The man would die out there!
This was the most dangerous piece of beach in this area. It was off limits to swimmers and always had been. “Why did you let him go into the sea here?” she asked. “Don’t you know how dangerous this beach is? People disappear here all the time. I know he’s disgusting, but he didn’t deserve that.”
“Probably with his help,” Hercules snapped. “Epaphras is one of Poseidon’s spoiled brats, more spoiled than most. Instead of wasting your sympathy on him, you need to be careful because he’ll probably be back.”
“Poseidon?” Her eyes bugged out, she couldn’t help it.
Achilles smiled at her question. “The God of the sea, of course. Who else has ever been named Poseidon?”
Ange couldn’t believe her ears. For a moment, she was at a loss for words, then the sarcasm kicked into gear. “God of the sea, right,” she replied dryly. “And you two are the real Achilles and Hercules. Got it.” She whipped out her cell phone in a mock gesture as she put it to her ear. “Hello? Ikaria Sanatorium? I have two new patients for you named Achilles and Hercules.”
Even Hercules cracked a smile. “How did you know my earth name was Hercules?”
Ange rolled her eyes. “Because I teach Greek mythology in my spare time,” she mocked. Then she pointed at Achilles. “I know that just like I know Achilles was actually killed during the Trojan War, so you can’t possibly be the real Achilles. You were shot by Paris through your tendon by a poisonous arrow guided by Apollo.”
Achilles bowed slightly, his green eyes glimmering as he stepped closer to her. “Your mortal historians are famous for getting the story wrong, of course. It was actually guided by Artemis on behalf of Apollo. However, Zeus granted me immortality and took me to Mount Olympus.” The closer Achilles came to the woman, the more the hairs on his entire body snapped to attention, as if electrified in her presence. He must have her! “And what is your name, Angel?” he asked throatily. For she did indeed look like an Angel fallen to earth.
Ange felt a twinge of disgust. Angel? Really? Who did this tanned, would-be hero think he was flirting with? In spite of her attraction to him, she had no use for philanderers, and this one had player written all over him. “My name is Ange,” she replied frostily, her hands on her hips, her fierce frown of displeasure designed to send him packing.
Achilles pounced. “Aha—short for Angel, right?”
“No—short for Angelina, not that it makes any difference.”
“I knew it,” he replied exultantly. “You are an earth angel, and the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh? And what about Briseis?” she asked scornfully, deciding she’d play along for the moment. “I thought she was your angel, at least according to history.” She was amazed to see his smile falter and his face close, the flash of pain in those green eyes very real.
“At the end of the war, I brought her into the immortal world, but I could not grant her immortality,” he replied tightly. He bowed slightly. “I suggest you don’t come to this beach anymore. Epaphras has a wide playground, so I would avoid the Aegean Sea altogether until he gets you out of his spoiled brain. He doesn’t give up easily when he wants something, but he can’t stay long out of the sea.” He turned abruptly and stalked off, Hercules following him with only a backward glance and a shrug before he caught up with his friend.
As Ange watched them to the edge of the trees, they suddenly vanished into thin air. She blinked her eyes, rubbed them for a moment, and looked again. Unable to believe what she’d seen, she followed their footsteps across the sand and along the grassy knoll until she reached the spot where they had disappeared. Cautiously she reached out and half expected to see her hand disappear, but instead she found the smooth bark of a tree. Letting out a whoosh of breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, she shook her head with a laugh.
“I must be crazy,” she said, looking around to make sure they didn’t pop out somewhere. “There has to be a rational explanation for where they came from, but I’m not following those two nutjobs into the mountains.”
She couldn’t quite pull herself away yet, so she stood there, her eyes searching the gloom of the shaded trees. Something undefinable pulled at her and she sighed wistfully. “Too bad you weren’t for real, Achilles. History says you were the most handsome warrior in Agamemnon’s armies. If he looked anything like you, history got that part right at least.” As she stared into the trees, the words of Agamemnon from The Chorus drifted through her mind.
