Page 3 of Hera

“Odin owns the place. I can get you in tonight, if you want. Go by. Check out the clientele. You might be able to scratch that itch with one of his men.” Chloe smirked. “And then, you can think about settling down with someone later this week.”

“Chloe!” Hera wouldn’t say she whined, but it was a near thing. “You know I’m not the best judge of character.”

“If you’re talking about tonight, that doesn’t matter. You just have to pick a guy that’ll show you a good time. And Eve and Aphrodite will have your back later this week. That’s what they’retherefor!”

Hera sighed. “I’mnotsaying yes to later this week. But I am saying yes to the fight tonight, please.”

Chloe bounced excitedly. “I’ll find out tonight’s password as soon as I can. You get dressed. Something sexy and sensual. I want all the details tomorrow!” She winked. “Or maybe the day after.”

Hera pretended to be shocked. “I don’t own anything sexy!”

Chloe pursed her lips. “Are you a Goddess or not? Surely you can make something between now and the start of the fight.” She examined Hera again. “Maybe play up your eyes a bit, wear light greys and silvers. Ooh, purple would really make them pop! An underbust corset in royal purple over a silver off-the-shoulder blouse. That would seriously emphasize your assets.” Chloe winked at her.

“Spoken by someone with small breasts,” Hera said, rolling her eyes. “Where’s the support? I wouldn’t be emphasizing, I’d be flashing everyone.”

“Use some power to keep your shirt up and no one will know,” Chloe said with a shrug. “Let’s see, a black leather skirt with a slit as high up your thigh as you can without showing everything, and knee-high black leather buckled boots with a thick heel. It’s the perfect outfit for you, you have to agree.” She wiggled some more and leaned forward.

Hera thought about it for a minute. “It’s certainly not my style, but I’m willing to try it.”

Chloe clapped her hands and gestured. “Go on!”

“If you insist,” Hera muttered. She stood and waved a hand over herself, manifesting the outfit Chloe had described onto her body.

“I amgood,” Chloe muttered, standing and walking around the Goddess. “Yes, this is perfect. The heels give you extra height, and your eyes look stunning. Highlight them with purple eye-shadow, and maybe even a purple lip. You’re a knockout without even getting into the ring!” She chuckled at her own joke.

Hera walked over to a mirror hanging on one wall, the swing of her hips emphasized by the heels. “I look... So unlike me,” she breathed. She twisted, her heel popping up as she did so. “I like it.”

* * *

Valhalla’s Thronewas in a dark and ominous area of town. The neon lights on the nearby clubs and bars all shone brightly in the gloom, announcing to the world that they were open for business.

Hera turned and descended the stairs to the metal door. There was a sliding grate just above her eye level. She tapped out the quick rhythm that Chloe had taught her before she left that evening, hoping she remembered it correctly.

The grate opened and a brown eye peered out at her.

Hera leaned up on her tiptoes and whispered, “Glaive.”

The grate closed without a word from the person on the other side and Hera’s heart sank into her leather boots. She was just about to turn away when the door creaked open. A wave of masculine musk wafted out, making Hera’s knees weak. She wobbled a bit as she crossed the threshold into the dimly lit entry and held onto the wall for support.

“Right this way, miss,” said the person with the brown eye. He only had one, right in the center.

Hera followed the Cyclops down the wood-paneled, dark-carpeted hallway and tried to regain her composure before there was the potential of an audience. The heavy velvet curtain at the end of the hall was held back for her, a wash of cheering, booing, and shouting crashing over her. “Thank you,” Hera said and signed to the Cyclops in case he couldn’t hear her over the noise.

He nodded and let the curtain fall behind her.

Excitement sang through her veins, more heady than a glass of ambrosia. She made a circuit of the room behind the spectator benches, made of natural logs that had been highly polished to a dark stain, looking for a likely target to bring home tonight.

A bell heralded the end of the match that was going on, an announcer joining the two fighters in the ring. Hera ignored them. She wasn’t here for the fight. A tall, well-built older man with a full head of white-silver hair caught her eye, sitting in a private box the middle of the arena. Odin appeared absolutely regal as he lounged in a large seven foot chair carved of wood and depicting scenes from Norse Mythology, with his wolf and ravens are surrounding him. He had a drink in one hand and an empty seat beside him.

With no fighters to make noise in the ring, Hera figured now was her chance. Strutting over to the box, she tapped on the wooden side. “Excuse me,” she said, enjoying the way his gaze traveled up her body. “Is that seat available?”

“I was saving it for you, milady,” the man said, jumping to his feet and gesturing at the vacant spot on the bench beside his chair and offering her his right elbow.

She graciously accepted the aide of his arm as she squeezed past him to the seat. “Thank you most kindly, Odin,” she said, feigning a slight stumble and pressing her breasts more fully against his hard chest. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I fear I am at a loss, milady, for you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

Hera smiled at him, but her attention was quite suddenly drawn to the fighter’s ring, where a large blond man had entered. His muscles were on full display, glistening under the lights. He wore only a pair of denim cut-offs. Her heart fluttered.

---