Page 23
“My Queen? Your move.”
Nemesis bowed her head, the mahogany locks pure luxury in color and texture. Hera had the most inappropriate thought, of her own fingers diving into them here and now, gripping, pulling---
Jesus and the Saints! Dammit, wrong religion!
But it felt good. So good to look into the icy, silver-flecked eyes and see that she was being given all the power. All of it! And not just stemming from her own right. No, she was given everything. Nemesis gave her the sweet, sweet taste of holding all the cards.
And speaking of cards. Another Queen, this time of Diamonds, covered in blood red ink, was held gently between Nemesis’s fingertips.
She took a deep breath and rose from her seat, taking Nemesis’s hand. It was just as cold as her own. Hera slowly pocketed the card, her fingers now coated with the distinct hue.
“Do your worst, Revenge, you have my shares.”
With that, she allowed Nemesis to escort her out the door, the Furies snickering behind them.
“How did you—”
Nemesis smirked as she handed Hera into the waiting limo.
“Will you wait for me? Tonight?” The low voice trembled with something Hera could not decipher. What was she being asked? “I have to go back up, before my Furies tear that place to pieces. They can be rather… a handful.”
Hera smiled.
“Kind of like their mistress.”
She gasped as the words left her mouth. Had she really said them? But Nemesis’s smile just widened.
“Of all the gods, you’d know, Your Majesty.”
Hera felt that tug again, the rib under her heart throbbing with something she chose not to name. It must be that pesky syndrome that humans experience. The one where something pangs in their chest and they can’t breathe. Precordial catch syndrome. If this were in connection with someone’s penis, they’d have three different medications and days of paid leave to deal with it.
But since no penises were associated with it, nobody knew the causes or the treatment. All people did was wait for the catch to let go, to pass. As her chest loosened, either due to the damned syndrome or Nemesis finally letting go of her hand and nodding to the bear to drive, Hera didn’t know. She breathed deeply, enjoying the slow expansion of her rib cage, unencumbered by the painful tug.
Belatedly, she realized she had not given Nemesis an answer.
“Wait… WAIT!”
The bear hit the brakes, the limo screeching to a stop in the middle of the busy Manhattan street, as people laid on the honks. Taxi drivers leaned out of their cars, cursing.
Hera all but burst out of the vehicle. Nemesis was almost through the revolving door of the skyscraper.
Why was she running after her?
A thought for when she was much more sensible. Because at that moment, she was anything but. Hera sped up, her heels making it both more difficult and easier to leap across the sidewalk. Someone whistled. Someone catcalled. Nemesis turned, and the wondrous cold eyes were not so cold anymore. The ice broke, tiny shards sparkling with the brightest blue.
“Your Majesty?” The question in the low voice was almost pleading.
Hera ran right into her, the strong arms lifting automatically to hold her, to steady her.
Oh, she was such a fool.
“I’ll wait for you. Tonight. I mean. I’ll wait for you. To come… To explain.”
Nemesis smiled, and Hera could swear somewhere nearby the bear choir hit a particularly high note in the “Oh yeaaaah!”
Hera patted the hard rock shoulder under her hand and shook herself free before slowly walking back to the limousine. She did not look back, but she knew Nemesis watched her till the car disappeared around the corner. She felt the heat of those eyes on her all the way up to her penthouse, all the way to her bedroom. As she entered, on a pillow, on the made bed, the Queen of Clubs all but winked at her.
8
