Page 96 of The Cursed Chalice
I chuckle. Even her British accent sounds pretty. “Thank you. Your eyes, your style, hair…everything about you is a yes.”
Venus inhales and drops her hands on the table. “Oh God, you are a good person.”
What the hell did she mean by that? It sounds less like praise and more like a curse.
“I would hope so.” I pull out a chair and sit.
The barista walks briskly to the table, placing the order down. Venus doesn’t look back at him.
“Thank you,” I mouth to the barista before he moves away.
“So what do you do here?” Venus takes a sip of her coffee and sips it, looking at me over the rim.
“I restore art as close as possible to the original.”
Venus nods. “That is awesome. I have a painting for the museum. I would love you to restore it. I will be donating it to St. Bartholomew in Lakeshore.”
A painting?
“Well, I would love to. Turn it in to the department of?—”
She raises her hand. “I don’t have to do all of that. Maybe next week I can bring it in?”
Wow, she is a bold one, isn’t she? I stay silent. I don’t work for her but for the museum.
Venus smiles tightly and nods. “Fine. I will go through the red tape. It will be on your desk next week. Or maybe this week.”
“I can’t wait. Now if you will excuse me, I have to get back to my desk.” I push back the chair to stand.
She looks me over from head to toe. I see a hint of disgust, but it’s well-disguised.
“Until we meet again, Soraya.” Venus smiles softly, her soft blonde locs of hair curling over her shoulders and down her back.
I nod and walk away, dumping my coffee in the bin. I look back, and she’s gone. Guess she had a meeting upstairs.
I take my phone out of my pocket, hoping for a text from Ares. Nothing. I sigh. Maybe we can have a movie night after dinner. Something short. I can do that, and maybe then he will loosen up. I just have to work some more hours, and then I’m home.
ARIC
All day I looked at the door, waiting for her to knock and come in. The house feels empty without her and Nisa. It’s amazing how a person can change the energy in a house. Months ago, I was comfortable with the silence, with isolation. Now? It’s seeping through the walls.
“Maybe if I just talk to her, explain it all,” I speak out to an empty room. The windowpane vibrates, and I exhale.
“I am really the smart one in this symbiotic relationship, aren’t I?”
“Ares, this is a dumb decision.” I walk up to the side table and take the chalice in my hand. It wasn’t as warm as it had been before.
“Does that mean Talia is dying, Ares?” My fingers run over the corded rim of the cup.
“Yes…Talia’s life force is waning.”
There is a twinge of sadness in my chest. “We can’t win, can we?”
My skin burns and stretches, and my muscles unfold. These exchanges between Ares and me have been smoother over these past few months.
“No, we can’t.” I place the chalice back on the side table.
I hear a scream and dash out of the office, pulling a sword out of my wrist. Instead of a pack of Furies at my door, it was my 12-year-old ward screaming into the camera of her phone, talking to her friends. Phobos walks through the door after her, looking tired and defeated.
