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Bleed For Me

Bleed For Me (Loved By Gods #1)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Chapter One

Oh, how the mighty had f**king fallen.

Apollo drained his whiskey in a gulp and slammed the empty glass back on the scarred bar top.

Humans buzzed around him. Laughing, talking, and making themselves at home in the hovel that his brother Ares called a bar.

Once, Apollo had lived in golden luxury, his every single whim instantly met by the thousands who worshipped him.

Now, humans worshipped their technology. The gods were gone. Their power just a myth…or so the humans thought.

The bar in New Olympus, Florida, seemed just like any other along the small strip. At least, that was the way the place dubbed Hades appeared to those who didn’t know how to look for the truth. Humans were packed inside the place, yes, but there was magic inside the bar as well.

Gods and goddesses often slipped inside Hades, enjoying their chance to mix and mingle with humans. Humans might have forgotten the ancient power of the gods, but that didn’t mean that the gods had forgotten them.

We do love to play with you.

And Apollo was in the mood to play. Unfortunately, this night was proving to be as boring for him as the others that had passed before it in the last century. So many days. So many nights.

He sat there, gaze drifting toward the door, his body was curiously tense. Energy hummed just beneath the surface of his flesh.

And then she walked in the door of Hades. Midnight black hair, glistening red lips. One look, and Apollo knew that he wanted her.

What a god wanted, he took. Some rules didn’t change, no matter how much time passed.

The woman sauntered across the room, moving slowly on two inch black heels. She wore a skin-tight leather dress that molded to her high br**sts, clung to her slim hips, and barely brushed the top of her thighs. The tempting expanse of her legs drew his gaze. Pale, perfect legs. Legs that he couldn’t wait to feel, wrapped around him and holding to him as he thrust deep into her body.

Damn. She was a pretty thing. With wide, dark eyes, high cheekbones, and a straight little nose. Her chin pointed just enough to stop her from being too perfect. Apollo had never liked perfection.

And her lips…so red. So full. Her lower lip was slightly fuller than the top, and he had the strongest urge to cross the room and kiss that pouting lip. To suck it. He wondered what her lips would feel like beneath his mouth. Hmm…how would she taste?

Perhaps he should go find out.

Apollo shoved away from the bar and began to stalk his prey. Other men had noticed her, and they were already closing in, but he didn’t really mind the competition. Once the lady in black saw him, she’d forget the others.

Women wanted him, they always had. Hell, he wasn’t the f**king sun god for nothing.

He strode through the crowd, waving his fingers and shooing the others out of his path with merely a thought. Then he was in front of her, less than a foot away, close enough to smell the light scent of jasmine that clung to her skin.

He smiled, deliberately stretching his lips to showcase his dimples. Several nymphs had told him that he had fabulous dimples. “Hello, my love. Welcome to Hades.” Or, as close to the underworld as he planned to get anytime soon.

The woman blinked at him but her expression remained perfectly blank.

Ooohhh. His c**k tightened. A challenge. It’d been far too long since he had a challenge.

She inclined her head slightly. “Hades…is this your bar?” A slight southern drawl coated her husky words.

He liked her voice. It was a voice he could imagine hearing in the darkness. “Ah…” What had she said? “It’s my brother’s place.” Good thing he’d decided to wander in tonight. Boredom could be such a bitch.

The woman nodded, a vague, polite gesture. And tried to brush past him.

Uh, no.

He caught her arm and took a moment to admire the soft, silken feel of her skin beneath his fingers. “I’m Apollo.”

Her eyes—at first he’d thought they were black, but now he saw they were a deep, deep blue—fell to his hand. “I don’t like to be touched, Apollo.”

He didn’t remove his hand. He planned to touch her a whole lot, and he’d make absolutely sure she enjoyed the feel of his hands. “What’s your name?”

Her head tilted to the side, and she studied him with a raised brow. “Terese. Terese Lafitte.”

“Well, Terese…” His fingers skimmed down her arm. “May I offer you a drink?”

Her eyes widened, and stark hunger flashed across her face. Then, just as quickly as the hunger had appeared, it vanished, and that blank expression slipped over her features once again. “I don’t think you have what I need.”

She tried to walk away, again, but he just tightened his fingers around her arm. “You’d be surprised.”

“No,” she told him flatly. “You would be.” This time, she did walk away.

And Apollo laughed.

The hunt was on.

***

Terese Lafitte took a deep breath and tried to fight the ravenous hunger pounding through her. The blond hunk was still close by, watching her, and sending a shiver over her flesh.

The guy obviously wasn’t used to a woman telling him no. Hell, when you looked as good as he did, you probably didn’t get a lot of rejections. The guy was…gorgeous. No other word for him. He had the kind of strong, chiseled features that probably made women—me—quiver. Perfectly cut, square jaw. Sculpted cheekbones. Wide set, light blue eyes. Firm, sensuous lips. He even had thick, tousled blond hair. The kind of hair that she’d seen once on a shampoo commercial.

And his body. She swallowed. Talk about a perfect package. The guy was tall, with tight muscles and deeply tanned, golden skin. The lucky jerk probably got to spend hours in the sun each day.

Oh, yes. He was absolutely gorgeous. A feast for the eyes. But she’d never been the type to fall for pretty boys. Not while she was alive, and certainly not while she was…well, dead wasn’t the right word. Because she wasn’t technically dead.

But she was a vampire.

Her heart still beat. Her lungs still worked. She got tired, she got hungry—well, for blood, anyway. Her body was pretty much as it’d been before, except for the addition of the fangs.

No, she wasn’t dead. Not yet, anyway. But if she didn’t find something to drink soon, she might be.

Her gaze drifted around the bar. So many men. She’d need to find a weak link. A man she should be able to control. If things got rough, she’d need to be able to escape easily.

So many men. She could hear their heartbeats. Almost feel the rush of their blood and—

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