Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Shouldn’t I notice if the woman I’m fucking stays out all night and doesn’t come to bed?
I think this is a given.
So I am bothered.
Being bothered also bothers me and so there is nothing left to do but make a decision and put her out of my mind. The decision is that I will not allow her to sleep in my bed again.
Well, maybe eventually I could see her coming back. But she needs to give up the fucking costume and start acting like a normal human being. I do get the irony because she is not human. But the truth is that while she wasn’t made human at birth, she is a human now, and that’s all that matters.
When assholes curse you and rearrange your life you have two choices: Suck it up and do your best, or dwell and be one of those victim people.
If she chooses victim, I’m just not interested. I can’t deal with people who give up so easily. I mean, how could I ever count on, or trust, or respect, a defeatist?
It’s counterintuitive and not aligned with my own sense of self-preservation.
And I also get the irony that I was perfectly fine with her choice until last night, but that’s because I really thought she was insane. Now that I know she is just prolonging her acceptance of the inevitable, I’m not inclined to be so accommodating.
At any rate, I will not be fucking Callistina anymore until she gets her shit together. And I have a sudden urge to go tell her this. Like an ultimatum.
But that feels like I want to tell her this so that she might object and we might fight.
You don’t have to be the god of love to understand that fighting with someone about how you will not be having sex with them is just a whole bunch of bottled-up sexual tension. And while I might be wandering a bit aimlessly these days, what I am not doing is planning a future with the former Queen of Vinca.
I say this—internally, of course—all the way down the stairs of my apartment. I am not planning a future with the former Queen of Vinca.
I am not planning a future.
I am not planning a future.
I am not planning a future with the former Queen of Vinca.
Four times feels sufficient. So I let out a breath and push open the door that will take me into the bar. Immediately, I’m scanning the room for her presence.
Eros. Get a hold of yourself. You are not obsessed with Crazy Callistina.
I don’t get obsessed with anyone. It’s part of my curse. But what I am inclined to do at times—perhaps times such as this—is dwell on certain individuals. Purely for selfish reasons, of course. Because I am nothing if not selfish.
But at any rate, Callistina is not in the bar. There is no one in the bar.
So I go outside and take in the morning. Well, not really morning, actually. I don’t do mornings and the sun above tells me it’s noon.
That’s when I notice Darrel, AKA Batty, walking up the sidewalk in my direction. I pause here and watch him because he’s watching me. That can only mean one thing. He needs something. Probably for that little dragon girlfriend of his. Who is one of my descendants, obviously, since everyone in the town of Granite Springs came from me. But fucking gods above, how the hell one of mine came out part dragon is beyond even my celestial comprehension.
Darrel nods his head at me as he approaches. “Hey, Eros.”
“Hello, Darrel. How can I help you?”
He makes a face that comes with an uncomfortable smile. “Well, since you asked, I could use a little help in the love department.”
“How so?”
“Madeline. She…” He looks over his shoulder in the direction of the feed store where little Madeline works, then blows out a long breath. “She’s… being weird.”
“Well, Darrel, I’m not really sure what you mean by ‘weird.’ But you know that, so how about you just get to the fuckin’ point and tell me what you need.”
“I need you to…” He looks over his shoulder again, then back at me. “I need you to shoot her again. The arrow. It’s wearing off. Her scales are coming back. Not like they were before you shot her, but a little bit here, a little bit there. Ya know?”
“That’s ridiculous. My arrows do not wear off. They are eternal unless I interfere and shoot her with the antagonist version. Which I have not done, I assure you.”
“Well, then why isn’t she… you know… into me enough to keep her curse at bay?”
“Perhaps because you’re just too ugly.”
Darrel blinks. “What?”
I sigh. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, brother. But listen, that arrow I shot was under duress. Do you recall that day when Saint Mark’s Sanctuary came tumbling down and you and your ilk came into my town looking for a place to settle?”