Page 2 of Leashed

Uncorking his own vessel, Dio took a sip and grinned. “Let the revelry begin, boy.”

Someday, he’d fight the destiny the Fates had spun for him. Someday, he would break the hold Dionysus had over him with a single touch. Someday, he would tell the old god to find himself a new disciple to fuel his flagging power, to convince the spinner of Fate to tie another deity to him.

But today wasn’t the day.

*

Sage Marcellus rockedforward in her seat, urging her car to buck up and start for her. When it lumbered to life, she sat back in relief and set her phone on speaker with a laugh. “Sorry, honey. You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Nixon grumbled, the agitation in his voice piercing her good mood. “When are you going to take that thing in for repairs? Or, I don’t know, buy something newer?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, unwilling to rehash their monthly argument for the hundredth time. “Soon. How was work?”

While Nixon launched into a detailed account of a client he was wooing, she pulled onto the interstate and chugged her way to her shift at the library, her attention torn between her boyfriend’s work woes and the semis passing her at high speeds. When he went silent on her, she frowned at her phone. “I’m sorry, honey. What was that?”

“I said, I’ll be by around eight,” Nixon repeated.

“Damn,” she muttered, signaling as she exited the interstate and found herself in the wrong lane.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh jeez.” She sighed, waving at the elderly woman who let her in. “Sorry. I got over too far on the underpass. I was asked to cover an extra shift at the library until two, then I’m at the lounge until eight. But I can meet you there at nine?”

Nixon went silent again for a moment. “You told me you weren’t going to take extra shifts anymore.”

Slowing to a crawl while she scanned the street for parking, she pulled into an open space, tucking her schoolbooks into her bag and touching up her lipstick in the rearview mirror. “I know, but Marie’s car wouldn’t start this morning and I was the only one available.”

“Fine,” he huffed, the annoyance in his voice loud and clear. “We can have a very late dinner then.”

“Sounds good, honey. See you then. Love you.”

“Yeah. Love you too.”

With a quick scan of the area, she hopped out of her car, heaved the clunky door shut, and placed the thick metal of her car key between her fingers. She tiptoed gingerly over the snow-covered sidewalk to the library and pulled the heavy glass door open, smiling at one of her regular patrons as she walked over to the desk and tucked her purse under the counter.

She was halfway through scanning the pile of returned books when the double doors swung open, a cold wind hitting her moments before she caught sight of the man who’d brought the gust in.

For a split second, her heart stopped.

He stood at the entrance and scanned the room with narrowed eyes, his thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his low-slung jeans. Well over six feet and broad-shouldered, his presence blocked the natural light coming from the exterior doors. The sun illuminated his long blond hair from behind as he walked over to her.

“Hey there,” he opened as he placed a hand on her desk and leaned in, his voice low and gravelly. “Do you have a phone I could use?”

Her eyes were drawn to the dark, slate-gray tattoo stamped across his chest. The symbol was vaguely familiar, and the thick lines reached deep into her memory while her fingers flexed with a subconscious desire to trace the ink.

“Miss? A phone?”

She blinked, her cheeks flushing when she looked up to find him waiting for her response. “I—”

“Sir,” her boss called over her shoulder. “You’re going to need to put a shirt on to be in here.”

The guy glanced down and tucked his tangled hair behind his ear. “Goddammit, Dio.” He met her eyes for a moment and she swore she felt her heart begin beating again before he turned and walked away.

She leaned forward a fraction to see the intricate tattoo covering his entire back, sitting back in disappointment when the door swung shut before she could make out the image. Shaking off the shiver the cold air had sent through her bones, she picked up the scanner, and the familiar stark tattoo faded from her mind as she got back to work.

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