Page 51 of The Demigod Complex
“Poseidon is giving her spring back.”
“I heard.” No give in Delilah’s voice.
“She’s going home.”
“Does she want to?”
He frowned. “Of course she wants to.”
“She said that?”
He ran his hand through his hair and leaned back, his chair creaking a protest. “I heard her talking to Calliadne after the fight. They didn’t know I was there, and she said she wasn’t worthy of me. Because she thinks she’s a failed nymph.”
“So, you arranged to have that failure fixed…” Delilah guessed.
“Yes. And she chose the spring.” Gods that hurt. His heart had been bleeding since. “I have to let her go.”
“Why?”
Delilah wasn’t usually this dense. “She’s been lost without her spring for over a millennium.”
“Until recently, I would’ve agreed with you.”
He scowled, getting tired of the riddles. “What does that mean?”
“It means she’s perfect for you.”
“You said that already, and I agree. She’s been a terrific executive assistant.”
“I’m not talking about the job.” The level of frustration in her voice was so unlike Delilah, who never flapped, that Castor paused.
Hope, that deceptive emotion, sprang to life inside him. “Whatareyou talking about?”
“I’ve never seen her happier than she has been this last year working for you. Especially right after Tala and Marrok’s mating.”
“But Kaios…”
“Don’t get me wrong. He had her worried, but she was also more alive than she has been in…”
“In?”
“At least as long as I’ve known her, which includes before she lost her spring.”
Castor thought back over the last year. Delilah was right. Leia had changed. When she’d first started with him, she’d been serious and distrustful of him. Over the course of the year, the real Leia had emerged—smart, still mouthy, and strong. Lately, she’d let him in more and more. Right up until today.
He gripped the phone. “Did shetellyou why she’s been so happy?”
“I think that’s something you should discuss with Leia herself.”
…
Wrapped up in pajamas and a fleece robe, her hair still wet from a long soak in the tub because she couldn’t be bothered to dry it, Leia plunked down on her sofa and put her feet up on her coffee table. With a little salute, she lifted a glass of red wine, a Christmas gift from Castor she had just opened, and gave a silent tribute to Dionysus. She had to hand it to the pleasure god—wine was good stuff. The full-bodied liquid slid over her tongue and she savored the chocolate and cherry aftertaste.
Closing her eyes, she lay her head back against the comfy cushion of her overstuffed chair and tried to relax away her gods-awful day. Pun absolutely intended.
A loud knock at her door startled her, and she jerked her hand, sloshing a few drops of her wine on her cream-colored cushion. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”
She hopped up and ran to the kitchen, where she wet a rag, then back to the couch where she dabbed at the stain.
