For The Love Of A God by Rosanna Leo (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📕

virtually abandoned except for the night cleaners, Maia headed there. Not to work, but to think. It had always been her favorite spot to quietly contemplate her troubles and seek resolution.

Of course, in times of uncertainty, she'd always been able to say, “What would Dad do?” She couldn't rely on his method of reasoning anymore. Her father was obviously headed for the cuckoo house, just like Eric Lord was.

It was just her now. She had to be the practical one, the methodical one.

Barely aware of the downtown traffic, she crossed the intersection of King and Yonge Streets, and meandered toward the employee entrance of the Toronto Museum. Swiping her security card, she let herself in.

As she passed like a ghost through the darkened galleries, she noticed Wally from the cleaning crew. “Hey, Wally."

"Miss Douglas, what is it with you, always working late? Girl, you need a life."

Her lips curled in a little half grin. “I won't argue with you there. Listen, I'm going to be up in Greece for a bit."

"Checking on Poseidon's privates?"

"Yeah, sure,” she said, managing a smile.

Before she reached the gallery, she passed Sheila on her way out. “Maia,” she exclaimed. “Eric was here today! He was asking for you. Man, did he look fine.” Sheila's bright blue eyes widened, as if the size of her eyes directly correlated to the depth of Eric's fineness.

Maia breathed a sigh of relief at missing him, but a huge part of her wished she'd seen him. What did it matter anyway? He probably would have just given her some ridiculous story about how he was Noah now, and wanted her to join him on the ark. “Right. Well, have a good night.” She wandered off, leaving Sheila with a questioning expression on her face.

Sheila trailed her for a moment, concern marring her friendly features. “Sweetie, do you want to talk about it? About Eric? You haven't been yourself since the gala. I know you went home with him that night. What happened?” Sheila held up a limp little finger and dangled it. “Was it disappointing?"

Maia wanted to laugh. Hell no, it hadn't been disappointing. It had been the best moment of her life until he'd told her he was a mythical being. She couldn't share that with her friends, no matter how close they were. “No. It was just ... a little intense."

Sheila's eyes rolled, as if she had it all figured out. “Oh, he's a clinger, is he? Well, you know what they say about fish in the sea, sweetie. Cut him loose, if you're not happy.” She gave Maia a little hug and made her exit.

Maia watched for a moment, relieved at not having to explain further, then turned toward the gallery. She paused outside the door and thought of the conversation with her father. He'd asked if she loved Eric. Was it even possible she could? It defied all reasoning.

But something in him had spoken to something in her. He'd felt so familiar, had awakened feelings which had seemed to lie dormant her whole life. As if everything that had ever happened was meant to lead her to him. In his beautiful face, she had seen the past and a heart-stopping present.

But did she see the future? What possible future could there be with him? Even if she suspended her every disbelief and allowed that he could be a god—and that was a huge if—how could it ever work? This wasn't just a case of dating a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Eric Lord was on another train altogether.

In her wildest, craziest moment of heart-thumping desire, even if she allowed herself to entertain the thought of running off with him, she didn't even know where she'd end up.

She entered and took a seat on a threadbare bench in front of the newly-reinstated statue of Eryx. He looked the same as ever. The strong body, the knowing grin. Only now, more than ever, he looked like Eric.

There was a pain in her chest. An ever-present dull ache, and all because of him.

A noise sounded behind her. She turned away from the sculpture, expecting the cleaning crew. “Am I in your way, Wally?"

No one was there.

At the same time, another noise reverberated through the gallery. The sound of heavy stone grating on stone. Alarmed, Maia turned toward the Eryx statue.

Only to see it falling. On top of her.

She froze, wide-eyed. Suddenly, two strong hands yanked her body off the bench. Within a split second, the marble artwork fell and crashed against the spot where she'd been sitting. Sickened and horrified, Maia watched as her beloved sculpture broke into several large pieces.

Marble limbs were strewn across the floor. And the decapitated head of Eryx rolled toward her feet, eyes cold and unseeing as they turned to her. In her shock, Maia could only stare.

The statue had almost killed her.

"Maia."

The deep, pained voice pierced through her consciousness, and she remembered the hands which pulled her to safety. As much as she was afraid to turn around, she did, gasping.

It was amazing Eric's presence could still rattle her so, could make her burn with longing. She had no words, didn't know what to say. It took all her strength just to return his heated gaze, the gaze now raking over her body with desire, over her face with concern. She felt her hands begin to shake and shoved them into the pockets of her jacket.

He took a step toward her. “You could have died."

"How did you...? You weren't even in the gallery."

He just looked at her sadly, as if trying to tell her she already knew the answer. “I've been around."

She backed up, fighting the impulse to jump into his arms. Her voice came out halting, a stammer reminding her of the raw ache inside her. “I have to go. I have to tell someone."

In one large stride, he was at her side, pulling her close to him. She didn't even fight him. He felt too good. Instead, she