Accidentally Aphrodite - Dakota Cassidy Page 0,16

sarcasm. “Job well done, Indiana Jones.”

Oh, blame, blame, blame.

Nina brushed her hands together as if she were over this. “Then we’re good to go. And thank Christ, too. I thought I was going to have to spend another piece of my damn eternity codling one more cockadoodie whiny woman. But you can take it from here, right, Khristos?”

Wait. Nina was just going to leave her here with her big, big boobies and an utter stranger-slash-alleged-god who said he had to teach her how to be Aphrodite?

Aw, hell no.

She was terrified of Nina. Every time she ran into her when she and Ingrid had a study date, she literally shook in her shoes and avoided her like the plague or, if forced into her company, sat quietly as Nina scowled at her.

But what if Khristos wasn’t being completely honest, like Ingrid said? What if, even though he knew Nina, she didn’t really know-know him? Did you ever really know a person? Wasn’t it true that when serial killers were revealed, all the people who knew them in their everyday lives were all in total shock because they never suspected a thing?

Nina was a beast, but she was the beast Quinn knew, and if something went awry, she wanted the vampire on her side.

Which meant—let the begging and scraping commence.

Chapter 4

Nina stopped dead in her tracks and gave her what Quinn decided was the scariest face ever. “Stop hanging on to me like I’m the last prom date on planet earth, for crap’s sake! He’s not gonna eat your face off, but I will if you don’t get the eff off me.”

Quinn backed off but still hovered at Nina’s elbow. Somehow, Nina seemed like the best bet. She’d lost count of how many times Ingrid had reminded her of what a badass Nina was.

“How do you know he won’t eat my face off?” she asked as the group made their way up the sidewalk to her small basement apartment.

Upon Quinn deciding her trip of a lifetime was officially over due to her new powers—and the discussion had with Khristos about how she couldn’t be trusted to know what true soul mates looked like in her fragile, heartbroken state—Nina demanded they come back to New York immediately and consult with Marty and Wanda before Khristos took over.

So now two things weighed heavily on her mind. What exactly did Khristos mean when he said she wouldn’t know two soul mates if Cupid threw them at her? And how they’d gotten here—without an actual plane—was still hard for her to form complete sentences about.

“FYI, speaking from my vast experience in face-eating, faces can be a little bony. I prefer other parts of a body, like a nice, fleshy upper arm,” Khristos growled from behind her, his tone teasing.

Quinn jumped, tucking her light sweater around her as though the flimsy material would protect her from this hulk of a man. Gone was her bravado, now replaced with sheer terror. Ingrid had filled her head with so many vivid images of demons and Hell and vampires running amok, Quinn couldn’t shake them.

She stopped by the big maple tree just before her apartment building and turned to face him, keeping Nina close. “Listen, I don’t know what goddesses teach their offspring, but where I come from, my mother taught me never to trust strangers, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re a stranger. I don’t care if you come with a recommendation from the Masters of the Universe and the FDA, you’re still a stranger to me. As a result of your stranger-ness, I now have lady pillows like a porn star and I glow. So, until I feel more comfortable—back…off!”

Khristos didn’t seem at all offended. In fact, he merely chuckled and motioned for her to go ahead of him. “My apologies. I thought Nina was a good enough reference.”

Stopping when they reached the stairs leading down to her apartment, Quinn dropped her carryon bag, letting it thump with a satisfying crunch to the hard, semi-frozen ground. “I hardly know Nina, and what I do know of her is enough to give me nightmares for a hundred years.”

Had she said that out loud?

Nina popped her lips, her eyes narrowing under the fluorescent streetlights. “I’m sorry, Lite-Brite, but wasn’t that you back in the Parthenon, clinging to me like some damn leech, begging me not to leave you alone with big scary Khristos? I’m all the nightmare you got right now. If I were you, I’d shut that yap