Dance of Blood (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 41,548
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Ares, the God of War, is cast out of Olympus by Zeus, and sent to Earth where he adopts the name Cato Mendez. Pretty soon, he is successful, rich, and lonely. And he has no memory of Olympus, playfield of the gods, and who he really is. Handsome as he is, finding a soulmate seems impossible.

Christopher Locke is a brilliant dancer, wasting his talent at a local club, but has no ambition to further his career. He is content, as long as he has his dancing and music to dance to. Christopher, however, has no time to develop a long-term relationship.

When the two meet, sparks fly. Before they know it, they are involved in a relationship. Then Olympus calls, and Cato and Christopher have some decisions to make.

How will Olympus affect their relationship? Will Christopher be able to do what he loves best? And will Ares win the war that will decide the future of Olympus?

Dance of Blood (MM)
0 Ratings (0.0)

Dance of Blood (MM)


Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 41,548
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Written Ink Designs

Zeus felt a mysterious presence on stage as he gazed down on the wide floor. Suddenly a spotlight snapped on, revealing a young man covered in glitter, and taking a striking pose.

The music began.

The glitter that covered the dancer caught the light, and there was an audible gasp. Every eye was on him as he slowly began to dance on the wide floor, the spotlight following, and the glitter pulsing with each move he made. The costume he wore was brief, freeing him to move with the music. Zeus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The young man looked like something out of a dream.

He twisted, he turned, he kicked, and he did splits and jumps, all while telling the sad story of a star-crossed lover who commits suicide. While the drums and music beat out a dark rhythm, when it came to the final crescendo, the dancer made a pretense of stabbing himself in his chest, fell to the floor where a red material that simulated blood burst from his body, and flowed out onto the floor. While the blood rippled in the wind, he lay perfectly still, his head bowed low until the music died away. When he stood and bowed, in one big burst, those sitting along the tables stood up on their feet and cheered.

“Who is this ... dancer?” Dagon asked in a soft voice as he leaned toward Zeus.

“His name is Christopher. He came to us highly recommended.”

“I should say. He is excellent. I wonder if he could do more.”

“We have other performers,” Zeus said, skirting the issue.

“Yes, but none like him. A little later perhaps?” Dagon pressed. “I don’t want to tire him. After he has rested will be fine.”

“I’ll ask him.” He called out to Christopher who was still bowing before the whistling crowd. “Christopher, could you possibly do something more? A little later, perhaps when you’ve rested a bit?” He made a furtive nod toward Dagon. “Dagon here finds you fascinating, and I must say I agree.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Christopher answered while breathing heavily.

“Thank you, my boy.” Zeus watched Christopher turn and leave the stage, the long red cloth dragging behind.

“I would like to meet him,” Dagon said.

“But there’ll be no time. I thought as soon as the meal was over, we would adjourn to the Roman Bath.”

“Why the hurry? After we see his next show you will bring him to the table so I can meet him.” He looked at Zeus as if he dared him to refuse. “Do you object?”

“No, of course not.”

“And then I would like for him to join us in the Roman Bath.”

“That is highly unusual, Dagon. We have never invited one of the performers into our most private salon.”

Dagon looked at Zeus. “We will invite him only if he is worthy.”

Zeus was silent. He had to do it, even if it was highly irregular. If it would give Ares more time to plan his war against Ottus, and to topple this devil from his arrogant throne, it would be worth it.

“Rules are made to be broken,” Zeus said with a trace of sarcasm in his voice, and then clapped his hands summoning a servant. “Pericles, begin heating the water in the Roman Bath. Dagon and I will --”

“Dagon and the dancer,” Dagon said, a glitter of danger in his eyes when he looked at Zeus.

“You ... and the dancer ... alone? In the bath?”

Dagon’s lips curled into a twisted smile. “Yes.”

Anger prickled at Zeus’ neck. How dare this devil demand such a thing? And yet why not? Zeus had allowed him to twist his thinking for some time now. He knew what Dagon was doing. He was testing Zeus. Seeing just how far he could get with his demands. Well, let him. In the end he and his stupid giant would experience a mighty fall. All Zeus had to do was keep him busy while it happened. When he realized what Dagon was doing, he thought about what Ares had said before he left.

“His name is Dagon ...”

“A warning, Father. Watch him. Weigh his advice very carefully, and don’t be too quick to act upon it. Keep your eyes open. If you find something, face the truth like the man I know you are. Rule as you used to. With compassion, not anger.”

“If you find something, face the truth like the man I know you are,” Zeus breathed, remembering the words, and feeling their sting.

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