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Excerpt 1:
Stephen Liatos
looked up when his office door opened. His body tightened as the new intern Alex
stepped into the room. His brain reminded his cock of the trouble young interns
and assistants could be. Stephen’s punishment for screwing one of his students
led to exile at a completely excavated ruin. Nothing new had been discovered at
Knossos in years.
Alex stood a
couple of inches taller than Stephen and had a body that looked like he was a
Greek god come down from Olympus. And he had a profound effect on Stephen’s
libido in spite of the danger—or maybe because of it.
“Can I help
you?” Stephen winced at the slight crack in his voice. Grabbing a bottle of
water, he hid his embarrassment behind a long drink as the desk hid his physical
reaction.
“I found the
site of Aphrodite’s necklace!” Alex’s enthusiasm filled his tone and brightened
his face.
“What do you
mean?” Stephen scowled across the desk. A flush of heat crawled up his neck.
Surely, he knew about Stephen’s history of tilting at windmills. “The necklace
is a legend, not a real artifact.” He’d once believed a lot of things…
“No, it is
real. And I know where to find it.” Alex was practically dancing with
excitement. “Would you drive?”
Stephen ran his
hand through his hair. To be young and so naïve again. He was tempted to tell
Alex to get back to the job he was assigned, but the young man needed to learn
from his own mistakes. “Okay. Let’s go.” Maybe getting away from worrying about
the museum’s budget would make the world look less gray today.
Pushing away
from his desk, Stephen stood then grabbed his jacket against the blustery winter
day. Situated between the Mediterranean and the Aegean Seas, Crete didn’t get
very cold weather but the damp wind could be chilling. “Lead the way.”
Stephen lagged
behind Alex for the short walk down the corridor to the parking lot. A small
trowel, a ruler and a couple of brushes in Alex’s right back pocket raised his
wrinkled T-shirt enough to reveal the contours of his denim-covered ass.
The view from
behind both raised and lowered Stephen’s mood. His body reminded him of how long
it has been since he’d been up close and personal with something other than his
hand. Too bad his personal rules now made the staff off-limits. Especially the
young hardbodies also known as grad students and interns.
Alex scurried
across the parking lot to Stephen’s truck. He swayed from one foot to the other,
waiting on Stephen to catch up.
Lowering his
head, Stephen hid the small smile forming. Once upon a time, he’d had been as
enthusiastic as Alex about archeology. Now at nearly forty, Stephen understood
that the find of a lifetime is usually in someone else’s life. Instead of
putting a damper on the young man’s mood, Stephen unlocked the car and climbed
in.
“So where to?”
Stephen asked as he started the car.
Alex stuffed
his tall frame into the seat next to him. “The Minoan ruins.”
“But they—”
Explaining how many times the palace of Knossos had been searched—by Stephen and
others—wouldn’t do any good. Stephen started the car. “Knossos it is.”
Alex’s fingers
clenched and unclenched around a piece of paper as his body rocked back and
forth in the seat.
“So, where do
you think the necklace is?” Even though he was convinced Alex was on a fool’s
errand, Stephen’s curiosity finally roused its head.
“Near the
fresco of the leaping bull in the east wing of the palace.”
Stephen traced
an image of the fresco in his mind. With the brilliant colors lost to the
ravages of man and time, restorations filled in the patterns to illustrate the
former beauty of Knossos. However, he couldn’t remember any structure that might
contain hidden secrets.
Keeping his
gaze on the road, Stephen held back his opinions. Some days he didn’t recognize
the bitter, cynical man he’d become. Reality ripped his dreams apart in too many
ways, too many times. Digs that didn’t pan out, relationships that soured
because of his work-tracked mind. And not to forget the lover who charged him
with sexual harassment because the grades Stephen gave him weren’t good enough.
Even the gods
and goddesses he’d once believed real seemed to have failed him. Since few
people worshipped the ancient ones anymore, he didn’t even have someone to talk
to about his loss of faith.
He swallowed
against the bitterness of his life. If he disappeared tomorrow, no one would
miss him. The world would go on without blinking at his fate. Even the museum
ran without real guidance from him.
The short drive
from Iraklion ended at a parking lot with few cars present. The winter, as mild
as it was, wasn’t a big draw for tourists and the natives had lived in the
shadow of antiquity all their lives. No novelty there.
Stephen pulled
his truck into a spot near the gate. “Lead on.”
With the door
already half open before the vehicle stopped, Alex leapt out then rushed for the
gate before Stephen could climb out.
Following at a
more sedate pace, Stephen felt a little sorry for Alex.
Once Alex
realized his discovery was nothing more than a dream, the young man would lose
some of his excitement. Each washed-out lead would chip away at his morale until
he was as empty as Stephen.
He picked up
his pace but didn’t strain to catch up to Alex. He could find the fresco in his
sleep. Many times, Stephen had combed every square inch of the palace, at first
in search of a dream then later seeking solace from the simple antiquity
surrounding him.
Strange how the
ruins could both frustrate and calm him. The irony of his existence…
Wind swirled
and peppered him with dust. His steps faltered as he closed his eyes and
shrugged deeper into his jacket. Through narrowed eyelids, he found his way
around the next corner.
A sharp
light—like the aura of a migraine—forced his eyes closed in a hard blink. When
he opened his eyes again, the brightness was gone and only Alex remained.
Kneeling near
the leaping bull fresco, Alex used a trowel to pry at a crease where the wall
met the stone floor.
“What are you
doing?” Stephen rushed toward Alex. “You’ll damage the wall.” Dropping to his
knees next to Alex, Stephen grabbed the trowel. “We don’t have permission to
excavate within the ruins.” All he needed was an intern getting him fired.
“But I don’t
need to dig deep. Just need to remove a little of the material blocking the
opening.” Alex’s face contorted into something resembling pain. Something
Stephen could understand.
“Give me a
brush.” Stephen held out his hand.
The younger
man’s expression blinked from fear to elation. His smile revealed gratitude and
a touch of something else… Avarice?
If the ruins
did cough up a new artifact, Alex would be acclaimed in archeological circles.
If the find were significant, he’d make headlines around the world.
Jealousy welled
up, threatening to consume Stephen. For a split second, he thought about walking
away and taking Alex with him. Why should Alex find the very thing that ruined
Stephen’s career? Then again, if the necklace existed, it didn’t matter who
found it. Stephen’s reputation would be restored.
Stephen took
the offered tool. With gentle strokes, Stephen brushed away dust and dirt until
a widening crack appeared. A few more strokes revealed what appeared to be a
small lever. “Hold this.” Stephen handed the brush back to Alex. Stretching out
full length on the cold stones, he pressed the side of his face to the ground to
get a better view.
“Damn.”
Whatever the contraption was, it was a new discovery. “We need pictures and
measurements before we go any further.”
Alex’s hand
appeared, holding a small digital camera. “Here.”
First
maneuvering around until he had the best angle, Stephen took a couple of shots
of just the opening. A quick check of the display showed the camera had picked
up the detail of the lever. In the appropriate photo software, any further
details should be clear. “I need—”
Alex dropped a
ruler into place before Stephen could finish his request.
“Thanks.”
Stephen captured a few more shots of the niche with the ruler for a record of
the measurement. His stomach churned with a combination of dread and excitement.
The find could be nothing more than dust.
After so many
years of disappointments, Stephen was surprised at the thrill of anticipation
rushing through his body. The sensation was almost akin to sex. Even now, slow
tendrils of desire tightened his khakis. The smell of dirt and the feel of the
cold stone aroused his longing, his dreams of great finds, ancient treasure
beyond belief.
Dreams of a
young fool.
Handing the
camera back to Alex, Stephen slipped his finger into the opening. Not much more
than the width of a finger, he couldn’t see the lever as he traced its length.
“Open it.”
Alex’s tone was harsh and almost commanding.
“We should
wait.” Stephen pulled his hand away. “We should study it more. Try to determine
what the lever does before we do anything else.”
“I have studied
it. It opens a small compartment containing Aphrodite’s necklace of red
diamonds.” Alex’s voice dropped to an almost reverent whisper. “The Heart of
Hephaestus.”
“The what?”
Stephen had never heard that designation for the necklace.
The legend
claimed the necklace was created by Hephaestus, Aphrodite’s husband, and stolen
in a fit of anger by her lover Ares. If Hephaestus discovered the theft, all
hell would’ve broken loose on Mount Olympus and possibly set off a war between
the gods. However, the legend was only found in a few ancient Greek scrolls and
never made it into the general pantheon of Greek myths handed down to present
day. And no resolution to the conflict was ever recorded.
“Just open it,”
Alex growled.
Stephen glanced
up at Alex. The young man’s soft features seemed to harden. He looked much older
than the twenty-two declared in his records.
“Do it.” Alex
leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the small crevice.
As if
mesmerized by Alex’s tone and words, Stephen obeyed. Wiggling the lever to
determine if it turned or pulled out, he felt a slight give on a down stroke.
Encouraged, he pressed in that direction. A slight resistance held then the
lever popped down.
Stephen yanked
his hand back, fearing he’d damaged something. With a soft rattle of stone, a
hiss of air rushed out. The stale odor teased Stephen’s nose along with a puff
of a dust. A small drawer, the width of CD tray on a computer and maybe twice
the thickness, appeared, blowing dust and dirt toward Stephen. Holding back a
sneeze, Stephen peered into the tiny compartment as it slid open.
“Fuck.” Stephen
rose up on his arms to see what the niche revealed.
A break in the
overcast sky must have dropped a ray of sunlight into the dark recesses. A
brilliant red glow shone from the dark.
Alex dipped his
head and murmured a soft whisper. “…most…goddess… Call your servant…”
Goddess?
Someone else who believed?
Before Stephen
could question him, Alex grabbed the artifact from its hiding place. The wind
picked up, twirling around. The clouds closed ranks with a vengeance, darkening
the sky more than before, but the rosy glow grew brighter. Swirling dust forced
Stephen’s eyes closed.
Alex’s voice
grew louder but the words weren’t intelligible. The chant seemed to stir the
wind faster.
Stephen crawled
up next to the wall, leaning into the fresco to keep him from flailing against
the wind. He forced his eyes open in time to see a brilliant red vortex twisting
behind Alex. Tornadoes weren’t something Stephen had experienced—and he’d never
heard of a red one—but he had no other term to describe the funnel of wind
threatening Alex.
Reaching for
Alex, Stephen pulled the young man toward the scant protection of the ancient
wall. The vortex must have gripped Alex already because his body pulled in the
opposite direction. Stephen lost his hold on Alex.
“Alex!” Stephen
dove toward the younger man. His mind ceased questioning the strange events. His
only purpose now was to save Alex. Grabbing hold of Alex’s shirt with one hand,
Stephen held on until he had his other hand around Alex’s wrist.
Alex’s loud
yells and curses kept Stephen hanging on. He wouldn’t let Alex go to his death…
The world
twisted around Stephen. The walls of Knossos blurred and faded into the blinding
red light. Nausea gripped Stephen’s stomach as his vision narrowed with
darkness. His last conscious thought muttered out unheard over the roar of the
wind.
“Well, fuck.”
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