Page 74 of Apollo

Genny’s stunned spurt jolted her spine and bugged her stare. She had all of two seconds to steel herself before her sister lunged over with a fangirl-style hug. Yes, complete with tears and a string of Ohmygawds that matched Genny’s personality as well as a rimfire round in a Beretta cartridge.

“Shit-shit-shit-shiiit. What is even going on right now? You are here, aren’t you? But how? Why? Wennie? What are you doing here?”

“And why?”

The addendum, issued by Ito’s man, was as ominous as a silencer introduced into the comparison of the minute. He snapped in a punctuating frown with equally clear intention.

“How’d you find us?” Satin Shirt intoned, showing off the rest of that notable attire along with his ink-black Calvins while handing his zipline gear to the attraction attendant. “Who sent you?”

“And who’s asking?”

Apollo moved in, matching the guy growl for intimidating growl. He stepped over with purpose, until they were eye-to-eye. Wen ticked off an invisible box of respect when Satin Shirt hardly flinched. Not an easy accomplishment when squaring off with a bit of solar glow from her sun god’s greens.

No. Not your sun god. Not now. That escape is over, girl. Head back in the real-life game, whether you like this shit or not.

“My name is Jun Matsuda.” He backed off far enough to proffer a respectful bow for Apollo, earning him another of Wen’s reluctant approval marks. Yet as soon as he rose, his deep brown eyes flashed with fresh suspicion. “And you did not answer my question yet, Mister . . . ”

“Jun.” Genny wrapped both hands around the guy’s firm forearm, bobbing her long whisky curls as if that’d mitigate a speck of tension between the glaring males. “You already have your answer, silly. I told you, my sister can find a tick on a deer in the Outback.”

“Especially if she has decent help.”

Apollo extended a hand, palm up, but before Wen could warn Jun about accepting the handshake, the poor guy whomped back with alpha-coded force. Shit on an Outback shingle. Within seconds, the poor guy’s face contorted. His arm tatts did the same as he twisted to the side as if hit by a truck.

“Hey,” Wen gritted. “Phoebus baby? Want to take it easy before I find some new things to twist?”

She didn’t know whether to scream or snicker when the Glow Worm replied with a slow, smooth grin. What did that freaking mean?

“Jun Chan? Hani?” Genny, toppling all the way over with her new friend—damn it, maybe that box would need to be unchecked, after all—threw out the words like half-chewed candy, broken and wet and unsteady. “What are you doing to him?” She wheeled around on Apollo with newly wild eyes. “Yamete! Kisama!” Then drew out the vowels with mounting volume while laying into his shoulder with raging pounds.

Oh, no.

“Genny.” Wen pushed in, fighting to keep her own tone firm and fair. “Honey, you’ve got to calm down. You’ll work yourself up—”

“Then tell your baka to fucking stop,” her sister screamed back. “I love this man, and I will kill any chikushou who dares harm him.”

Wen groaned. Oh, hell. Genny was already at full samurai-scenery-chewer about the mission statement; her ire doubled when Apollo dared react to his beating with a reprise of that mortifying—yet-oh-so-magnificent—smile.

Terrible worm.

Beautiful god.

Even more so, as soon as he cocked his head to align with Jun’s grimace and drawled one line of charming greeting.

“Hajimemashite. Very nice to meet you, Matsuda San. I’m Apollo of Olympus, and I believe we should take this conversation elsewhere.” He tilted a glance back toward Kaw. “Mister Kawstenos, we’re all ready when you’ve got the coordinates locked.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“As hideouts from a vengeful yakuza boss go, this one’s not half bad.”

Apollo already knew his attempt at easing the tension in the air stood only half a chance of success. At least truth itself was on his side. The villa overlooking the west coast of Osaka Bay was a sundrenched sprawl of modern white furniture given cozier touches of wood beam ceilings, natural planters, and warm recessed lighting.

All in all, a wonderful setting for them all to take deep breaths and have an honest conversation like rational human beings.

And there, as the mortals liked to say, was the fucking rub.

His own jig, as far as passing for “typical gorgeous mortal guy” status went, was up from the second they’d touched down in the middle of the sunken living room. By this point, Eugenia Steed was visible about wondering if he’d somehow bitten her sister, Olympian vampire style, and transformed her into a goddess in the doing.

Hades’ flaming balls, Irowen certainly looked the part.