Tartarus Station was not what I expected. I was being trite, but I had expected fire, or ice, excessive heat or cold, not – greenery.
The station was filled with growing plants, flowers; it was filled with life not death. And the humans. There were so many full-blooded humans, so many more than demons. Mages and animal shifters mingled with them. I would bet most of the humans did not know what type of power was contained in those mundane looking bodies.
I shouldn’t have been surprised but the myths of Tartarus being a place of darkness and wrath had been ingrained deeply enough from my mother, that I could be nothing other than astonished. Obviously my mother’s little tryst with my father had not occurred in the Underworld because not even she could defile this beauty with her tainted words. I smiled at the peace in the station and grabbed the luggage by my side.
Time to find my father.
The station was bigger than I gave it credit for. From the platform to the middle of the station was about half a mile…at an incline! Along the way there were hundreds of vendors selling jewelry, food, beverages, and souvenirs, it was like walking through a mall. Every vendor was yelling indistinct prices, selling something or another for two for one or occasionally four for one. I ignored them all, though once or twice, a male vendor would grin and wink at me. I couldn’t help but grin back.
Finally, I made it to the exit, it felt like an hour later. Blocking the way out of the train station was a group of people, of men. They were standing by the two sets of double glass doors, completely blocking one set. A few feet from the group of men was an increasing group of women.
The women were whispering and muttering, blushing and giggling. I could see why. There were seven men standing in a semi circle. Two men were in the center with the other five to their backs. All seven men were watching all women who passed. They were all beautiful, so perfect they could only be demons.
The two in the middle were by far the most…male of the group. The tallest male was over six feet, probably around six foot four, and he had long, thick white hair. It parted from his ears, revealing pointed tips. Even from where I had frozen in place, I could see his eyes were the brightest grey as they scanned every person who passed. He wore a black suit that complimented his hair and strong body type. The man next to him was infinitesimally more striking.
He was shorter than the white haired man, only about six foot one, but he didn’t need that height to stand out. His short hair was a brown streaked with silver; it reminded me of a wolf’s pelt I once saw. He was lean and his tight black shirt hugged every muscle, every curve. He had long, long legs encased in black slacks with a pair of black dress shoes covering his feet. A red belt wrapped around his lean hips, defining and giving color to the body that was making women drool.
He seemed casual, leaning back slightly, arching his back only the tiniest bit, with his thumbs hooked in his belt loops, a wicked grin turning his lips upward. He had a scar that ran down his eye to his cheek, although it didn’t mare his perfection, only simply added. The white haired man had a similar smile on his face, but his didn’t make me want to kiss my way up his body to capture his lips. Only the other man did.
Fuck! Why was I drooling over a man!? I cursed at myself. The demon must have incubus blood in him to attract so much attention.
I took a deep breath; I could pass those beautiful, wicked men without making a fool of myself, couldn’t I? I didn’t know if I could, but I tried anyway. I grabbed my bags and kept my eyes focused on the door as I moved forward. I glanced at the men right before I reached the door handle. Silver eyes caught mine.
Those eyes stared into mine capturing any movement and holding me still. They were the eyes of the hot, hot, man. His lips moved, said something to the white haired man beside him, and suddenly I was surrounded by all seven men.
Was I an easy target or something? This really wasn’t my day. I felt like I had been scented by wolves, the men pressed in tightly and I couldn’t look away from those silver eyes.
His voice was an exotic honey when he finally spoke, “Keiran D’Arrow?”
It was just my name but every survival instinct, every cell in my body came alive.
“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want?” I can’t believe I groaned that, it was so unlike me. I noticed the reactions of the men and began to back away. It wasn’t the wicked smile that spread across the silver-eyed man’s face that made me react; it was the tears running down the white haired man’s face that made me step away, almost horrified. What stunned me into complete immobility was when he lunged forward, wrapped his arms around my waist, lifted me up and cried like a baby into my shoulder.
“O—kay?” I couldn’t seem to move, the guy was strong but who in Tartarus was he? The only grown male that should act this way was—“Are you Raidon D’Eme?” I asked. He nodded into my shoulder, squeezing my waist harder. His hair was soft against my face, his arms hard around my waist; he was hugging me as if he missed me deeply.
So, this was my father.
I patted his head hoping he would let me go, he just hugged me tighter, almost cutting off my breath. I gasped and clenched my teeth together; I could not deal with a weeping father. I looked at the six other males surrounding me, wondering who they were. All of them were grinning like drunken idiots obviously none of them would help me out of this situation.
The silver-eyed man raised one eyebrow at my mouthed “Help me” and shook his head slightly.
Okay, absolutely no help for Kei over here. However, I didn’t know why I wanted his help. I looked down at my father’s head and wondered what I was going to say.
“Uh, Mr. D’Eme?” No response.
“Um…Raidon?” More tightening of the arms. “Dad? Please let me go.”
Ah, feet were touching the floor. I looked up into my father’s grey eyes and realized they were exactly like mine. He was smiling a lovely smile, tears still running down his cheeks.
“Mon bébé,” he whispered gathering my face into his hands, “at last we meet.” He had a rich French accent, his words colliding together as if he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “For so long I have waited mon cher.” I smiled at him, glanced around and noticed all the people who had stopped and were now staring. I gently laid my hand on his, tilting my head in a way that would make my smile seem brighter.
“That’s lovely and all,” I told him, “but could we get a move on? We’re attracting a crowd.” He glanced around, smiled at me in the cheerful way I had already begun associating with him and took one of my hands in his. He kissed my fingertips. Wasn’t that a weird thing to do to your son?
“Of course, mon beau, we will go.” Raidon clasped his fingers around mine, tightening his grip before he turned to the silver eyed man beside us. “Zane, we should go before anyone realizes—”
“Oh my god! That’s Zane Ambrose!” One of the women in the group across from us screamed. Immediately the five men at my back surrounded Zane. He grimaced and indicated the red headed guard with a slight raise of his hand.
“Data, stay here by the doors or be bait, I don’t care which as long as those women stay away from me.” Data smirked, and winked at Zane.
“You got it boss.” Data’s green eyes shone like two pools of forest canopies. His straight, red hair, with streaks of silver reminded me of a dragon’s scales. His pointed triple pierced ears accentuated that fact. He was not very short but he has a strong build, he would definitely be awesome bait. Zane pointed to the two guards that looked a lot like twins.
“Pian, Teyan. One of you get the plane ready, the other get the car.”
“We’re on it.” They both answered at once.
Pian was taller than his brother, his skin had an almost shimmery effect like a lizard or snakes’ skin. His curly, blonde hair fell into his eyes; he swiped it away with a smile. He had the same blue eyes as Teyan. As opposed to Pian’s amphibian look, Teyan had a catlike look to him, lithe and quick on his feet. Instead of blond curly hair, he had straight ebony hair though both of them had a deep olive complexion. Zane pointed to the last two men.
The first man gave me the impression that if he was a shifter he would metamorphose into a cheetah. He was angular and well structured. His eyes were slanted like a cat’s and the color of spring leaves. His hair was short but even, cropped so close to his head I could tell it was like a cheetah’s pelt.
The second man had dark amber eyes, almost as if he could trap me into the stone the color was derived from. He seemed to be a dark man; he had dark brown hair and dark clothes. His body type was like all the other guards, strong and athletic. His amber eyes watched warily as the two men waited for their boss’s order.
“Mikal,” the first man, “Brand,” the second man, “Get Keiran, Raidon and I out of here before the paparazzi show up.”
“Tartarus has paparazzi?” I asked completely ignoring the glare Brand sent me. Zane looked over at me, his silver eyes glinting with amusement.
“Yes, Keiran, Tartarus has paparazzi; we are not as different from Earth Side as many believe.” I glanced at the women who were creating their own stampede in order to get to Zane. He appeared nonchalant, though the way his eyes darkened to black showed he was not. My father looked at Zane and then at the doors.
“Let us go.” He said in a calming voice, his grey eyes flashing red before he let go of my hand and pushed the doors out into the sun. Zane walked beside me, matching my father’s pace. I looked up at him, glanced at my father and then back at him.
“Please don’t call me Keiran, I go by Kei.” With his silver eyes, still flashing to black and back, Zane regally nodded his head, and to my surprise lifted my hand to his lips. What did these demons have with hands?? I resisted the urge to pull away, almost frozen in place.
“Of course…Kei.” His lips lingered on my fingers too long to be polite and when he did finally pull away, he continued to keep my hand in his. I tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let me. I didn’t even know the guy, other than his name. My father glanced back at me right when I was going to kick Zane, a smile on his face and tears still in his eyes.
I let Zane hold my hand, as if I was a child. I grumbled, but not before I sent a kick into the back of Zane’s knees. He didn’t even flinch.