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And Athena? Like the other two, she had been brought here for a reason. If there was one thing he had begun to believe in these years of isolation, it was that there were forces in the world that would give you what you needed when you were connected.
He had become disconnected in his years of access. All he had cared about was money. Drugs. Sex. When he had lived on the streets he had to be rooted in the signs of the universe. For he had needed them to survive.
He had gotten back to that here. Athena was a sign. Something that had been brought to him for his use.
It was why it seemed logical to keep her.
Now he only had to decide what to do with her.
CHAPTER THREE
ATHENALAYSPRAWLEDout on the beautiful bed, unable to sleep. There was a glorious bathroom adjoined to the bedroom, and she could only admire the way technology blended seamlessly with the ancient architecture of the place. She was quite accustomed to luxury. Her father’s home had been filled with the finest of things. But there was something different about this place.
And then she thought of the man who occupied it, and she shivered.
You are part of my collection.
She had no idea how she was going to get out of this.
Collection, what a strange word.
It meant prisoner, though. Just as daughter had really meant prisoner for all of her life.
But she would think of something. She had not spent all of her life a prisoner only to become one yet again.
She would think of something. She was resourceful, if nothing else. She was not stupid. She was not weak.
That was what everyone thought of her. A doll. A toy for her mother. Not a woman of any sort of substance. That was what her father had thought. As for her mother? Athena had never been able to quite measure up to Naya.
No one really saw her.
They looked at her and they saw what they wished to see.
Now, that would benefit her.
She kept telling herself that. Over and over again.
“You may go down to the kitchen for dinner.”
She scrambled off the bed.“Who is this?”
She knew it was him. But his voice wasn’t coming from outside the door. Rather it felt all around her.
“You know who I am, Athena.”
She didn’t know why his voice made her stomach go tight. Only she remembered his strength. The smell of sandalwood.
She had never been as dainty as Naya—one of the things her mother had often told her.
She had felt tiny held in this man’s arms.
What a silly thing to think of.
“The voice of God?”
“Or the devil, more likely.” When he said devil, he practically purred.
“I am not afraid of devils,” she said. “I grew up surrounded by them. It took me years to figure that out. That my father was not a good man. But... I know now. And I know the men that came and sat at his dining table were monsters. I have sat at dinner with the devil and smiled. Why should I fear you?”
