A Spartan's Kiss by Billi Jean Page A

her hands, palms together until they were even with her face, then shoved them apart and out, making a sound like a shriek, wild and powerful, as she did. The wall of water parted close on either side of where they stood but not so much as a drop touched them. Around them, though, dark water the colour of mud, filled with debris, swirled and arrowed by them in a moving wall. Tabithia stood in the middle, the point deflecting the power attacking them while he and his men stood and watched.
    Gods, she was magnificent.
    Just as suddenly as the flood had begun, it slowed to a trickle around them. Silence filled the damp air. After the attack, the now quiet jungle almost hurt the senses.
    Checking in on his men, he saw amazement on their strong faces. They’d faced many battles, some with magic spewing the land from under their feet, or attempting to slice them to pieces, but never once had they seen the kind of power this tiny witch called forth. And, even more incredible, she appeared as steady as usual. As if she’d not just held back a storm, parted a flood, and single-handedly saved their asses.
    The beasts were gone. The jungle lay in wet, muddy destruction as far as he could see. Water flowed around their trail, in front and behind them, too, no doubt, but on the patch they stood it was dry, free of the wreckage littering the surrounding area. Dropping a bomb wouldn’t have caused as much damage.
    A shriek cut through the air, ending the silence.
    Tabithia crouched lower and nodded. “Aye, I agree, sister. But not a chance of it. Bring it on again, and I retaliate in kind. Let us come. We will anyway.”
    Nothing met her soft-spoken words but silence.
    In front of him, Tabithia lowered her arms. The brilliant green blaze flowing from her simply disappeared. Slowly she glanced up and nearly had him stepping back. Pain, rage, and something else, something dark swirled in the depths of her eyes.
    “This is going to cost you more than I think you realise, Spartan.”
    The fury in her tone gave him pause. The lack of nickname hit him harder. Something had changed. Correction, something had changed her. In place of the mischief, the prankster, was a cold, hard anger, and if he had to guess? Something close to disgust. Or disappointment. Or perhaps all three. Her gaze flashed up at him, then swept to his men. He shouldn’t have felt better that his men were earning her wrath as well.
    She turned without another word and headed off with a muttered, “Don’t fall behind.”
    He watched her step over a dead but still wild and dangerous-looking boar with enormous yellowed tusks. She didn’t even glance down at the creature. Somehow, he doubted she’d missed the beast.
    ‘This is going to cost you more than I think you realise, Spartan.’
    What he had to pay for, he had no idea, but he was beginning to realise Ares had led him into a trap. A trap impossible to get out of without alienating the one woman Aeros wanted more than his next breath.

Chapter Eight
     
     
     
    Ares regarded his sister, Artemis, with something akin to disbelief. How his sister knew what he was up to always amazed him. She was goddess of nature, for crying out loud, not goddess of secrets.
    “You’ve not hidden your actions well, brother.”
    “Half-brother, isn’t it, Art?”
    Her full brother, Leto, was absent, making him wonder what the little scrooge was up to. His sister, the pure virgin, hardly ever ventured into his realm. And alone? Not a chance. Not that he could harm her. She came fully armed with her poison-dipped arrows and pale yellow anaconda wrapped around her shoulders like some feather boa.
    “Yes, Ares, half-brother. I did not give your men permission to venture into my lands.”
    “That would be because”—he tapped his goatee, then snapped his fingers—“I didn’t ask! Really, Art, I don’t have to ask to send my men into the jungle. You might rule the place, but you have to allow them entrance and free exit. They are