My Life From Hell (The Blooming Goddess #3)

Magic Ink (Part 1)

Of all the Prince of Darkness' powers, his best were his bone-melting super-kisses. Which is why, when my boyfriend Kai, (formally known as Kyrillos, son of Hades, Lord of the Underworld) pushed me up against my bedroom wall with a liplock of mind whacking proportions, I didn't do much other than grip his shoulders, try to stay in an upright position, and willingly participate.

But as right as it felt, I also knew that it was very very wrong.

"We have to talk," I gasped as I came up for air.

"Overrated," Kai murmured, nudging his hips up against mine. Instead of talking, he opted for Plan B, which was pretty much a new and improved version of Plan A. His hand clasped the back of my head to pull me closer.

If I pressed myself any harder against him, I'd be behind him.

Maybe that would be a good thing. Then I wouldn't be distracted by things like the way his stupidly gorgeous-lashed eyes fixated on me, their normal espresso brown darkened and full of heat.

Kai shook his head, flinging a wayward lock of dark hair out of his eyes. That just made me want to sink my hands into his hair. And like the most pathetic Pavlovian conditioning, one of my hands snaked up to twine my fingers into the curled ends just below his ears.

His breath caught at my caress.

Kai leaned forward and gave me the most fleeting, teasing kiss, his lips brushing mine. My stomach fluttered at hummingbird speed during that split second of connection.

Kissing, touching; our chemistry was off the scale.

Sadly, so was the weight of our baggage.

Despite the bubbly sensation his kisses gave me, my chest felt heart attack victim tight and I wanted to smack him if only to get him talking. One of us had to be the grown up and put an end to the whole messed up romance.

As much as I knew that intellectually, my body wasn't prepared to agree. My treacherous fingers gripped the front of Kai's blue sweater like a baby with a security blanket, refusing to break contact.

Kai brushed his knuckles along my side. "I miss your curves," he murmured, his lips at my throat.

Over the past few months, I had become a lean, mean fighting machine. My best friend Theo, a.k.a. Prometheus, had me on a crazy training regimen to build up my stamina and strength in preparation for my final showdown with Zeus and Hades.

Which was next Thursday.

Exactly one week from today.

And speaking of said battle ...

The fate of the world rested on Kai's and my shoulders, and right now, that was a very unstable place to be. "We can't keep doing ..." My voice rose an octave as he nipped at my happy spot in the hollow of my neck. "... this."

I pushed him away, placing my hand on his chest to keep him at arm's length.

Kai shot me a look of pure sorrow. "I know," he said, his voice full of misery. There was a brief pause during which neither of us moved. A pause which would have been the perfect moment to finally—after all the kissing, avoidance, and waaay more kissing—talk about the Persephone-shaped elephant of betrayal in the room.

"Honey, I'm home."

My friend Hephaestus, better known as Festos had returned. His cheerful voice drifted into the guest bedroom of his apartment located in the industrial area in Seattle, where I'd been living for the past couple months. After Bethany had left me stabbed and bleeding on the ground in my school parking lot on that awful night, when Festos had kindly taken me in to heal.

And then kept me because I had nowhere else to go. I couldn't return to school, and not because of Bethany. No, my adoptive, drunk, socialite mother Felicia—a.k.a. Demeter—had made sure to burn that bridge for me but good. She'd wanted me out from under the safety of the wards at the school and back in her clutches.

Guess she'd planned on "convincing" me to honor the original deal between her and Persephone which would let Demeter rule Olympus, after Persephone and Kai took down their fathers on the spring equinox.

Persephone had reneged on that deal. Demeter had murdered her. Our relationship was only marginally better. I wasn't giving Mommy Dearest squat. Besides, if she'd been willing to kill Persephone, who she loved, there was no way I was letting her get her hands on me, her giant disappointment of a daughter.

"Soph?" Festos was getting closer.

Kai tensed against me. I knew what was coming and grabbed at him, but he was faster than I was. He disappeared.

I screamed in frustration, picked up my desk chair, and threw it across the room. It landed on the plush brown rug with an unsatisfyingly muted thud. I stomped around, swearing with every step. I was madder than a court ordered participant in an anger management course.

Seventeen years ago, the dying spirit of Persephone, Goddess of Spring, was magicked into my newborn Sophie body. A fact of which I'd remained blissfully unaware until last Halloween. That's when a prank I'd pulled on my "frenemy minus the 'fr'", Bethany Russo-Hill, had resulted in a kiss from a bad boy (two guesses who that was). The kiss had awakened my goddess identity, and given me a whopper of a responsibility as the savior of humanity in the ongoing war between Zeus and Hades here on Earth.

Although I'd gotten Persephone's powers, for the longest time, I didn't get her memories back.

Until that glorious day when I did, in all their Technicolor vividness. That magnificent day when Kai also declared his love for me, and, for a whole freaking hour, I'd felt on top of the world.

Reality is such a bitch.

Later that night we'd learned that, back when Persephone and Kai had been voted "the couple most likely to nauseate everyone with their happy bliss," she had actually been planning to use and betray him.

Kai had walked away from me at that point. And while he hadn't been able to stay away from me, hence the on-going locking of lips, he had refused to talk about it. Just a lot of bottled anger and making out.

Which made me feel both happy and crappy.

Lately though, I seemed stuck in the latter gear.

Festos popped my door open, leaned against the doorframe, and crossed his arms. His left foot was permanently turned inward, and he held the sleek black cane he used in one hand. Although his hair was now bright blue, his jeans were saucily skinny, and his trademark fedora was at as rakish an angle as ever, the blurriness in his eyes belied the sparkiness of his look.

Festos pointed his cane at me accusingly. "Do not e-ven tell me that a certain spawn of the Underworld was in your bedroom again, doing lip things that were not talking."

I opened my mouth to lie and deny, but he cut me off, whipping one hand up. "One week, honeybunch. Do you remember what happens in one week if you and Kyrillos don't sort yourselves out?"

Hot anger rose up inside me and I scratched furiously at the familiar itch on my arms. "Yes!" I snapped. "Our love ritual doesn't work. Hades and Zeus win and humanity bites it. I get it. I'm trying Fee, but—"

"But what? Hmm? His lips are laced with a paralytic that make you unable to converse? You promised me you'd speak to him."

I stared stubbornly at a spot on the opposite wall as my eyes got hot. No way was I going to cry over this.

Again.