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HOT & BOTHERED
Sons of Zeus
By
Rachel Carrington
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the
permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic
editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your
support of the author's rights is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
HOT & BOTHERED, Sons of Zeus
Copyright (c) 2005 by Rachel Dawn Carrington
Cover art and design (c) 2005 by Marianne LaCroix
Cover Model: Brooks Johnson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission,
except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.
For information, you can find us on the web at
www.VenusPress.com
Chapter One
Amy struggled against the chains, biting hard on her lower lip to keep from crying aloud. Desperation
and fear wrung tears from her eyes and only intensified her determination.
But she couldn’t break the chains. Forged by Hephaestus himself, they were unrelenting and no mere
mortal could break them.
She was trapped, laid out atop the boulder to be victim to any raging animal that came her way. Unable
to defend herself, she closed her eyes and willed herself to die.
Fury swept through the god’s muscular body and he dipped his hand into the flames, grasping the sword
by its hilt. Then he whirled to face his adversary.
“You would leave a mortal to be torn to shreds by the animals of the forest because she rejected you?”
Hephaestus roared, advancing. “My weapons are to be used for defense, not retribution!”
The one-eyed god stood his ground, arms folded, lower lip protruding. “The bitch deserved my
punishment. How dare she look down her nose at a god!” Pyron thumped his scrawny chest. “I am a
god! I could give her the world.”
Hephaestus came forward, holding the sword at a threatening angle. “Perhaps she has taste.”
Pyron’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “You dare to ridicule me!”
“Why not? You are, after all, the god of mockery, are you not?” Hephaestus braced for impact as the
smaller god charged.
The flames roared higher in the forge, rushing into the chimney as the God of Fire clashed with Pyron.
Their swords came together with resounding clangs of steel, echoing through the air. The stone walls of
Hephaestus’ castle rocked with the fury of its master and as the gods’ unleashed their fury, the winds
outside began to howl.
Lightning slashed across the solid oak floors, illuminating the black leather boots Hephaestus wore. He
parried a thrust to Pyron’s sword and danced backwards, inviting the god to follow.
“I’ll never tell you where she is,” Pyron panted, out of shape and out of breath.
The God of Fire smiled without mirth. “Do you think I can’t find one mortal woman?”
Pyron jabbed the tip of his sword forward, barely missing Hephaestus’ shoulder. “You can’t save her.
By the time you find her, she’ll be dead.”
“We shall see about that. For now, I am out of time for this nonsense.” With Pryon’s back to the forge,
Hephaestus seized the opportunity to gain the upper hand. He thrust forward and Pyron stumbled
backwards, the heels of his boots connecting with stone. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to
speak just as steel shackled his wrists.
“What have you done?” Pyron roared. “You cannot keep me like this!” He trashed against his
restraints, but every movement only served to tighten the circles of steel binding him.
Hephaestus stood watching him for a few minutes before he began backing toward the exit. “Your
struggles are futile, my friend. All the gods know how powerful my shackles are. You will remain here
until I return. Then, I will let Zeus decide what to do with you.”
Pyron’s breath escaped his lungs in a loud rush of air. “I will call a tribunal!”
Hephaestus only laughed and waved his hand over his shoulder before he disappeared.
The snap of a branch startled her from an uneasy sleep. Amy opened her eyes, but from her vantage
point, she could see little.
Another snap and she held her breath. Was it an animal?
Night had fallen, enveloping her in the blackness. With the moon dipping behind a cloud, the shadows
of the forest entombed her. The boulder scraped her spine and where the shackles bound her wrists, her
skin bled.
A rustle made her catch her breath. “Who’s there?” Her mouth dry, the words came out on a croak.
Panic clenched her heart and a sob tore through her lungs. She hated feeling so powerless, so incapable,
but the God of Mockery had seen to her helplessness.
Pyron had left her with little protection against the elements save the thin, ragged dress she wore. And
he’d slathered her legs with honey to invite the vicious stings of insects. Helpless, she could only pray the
animal approaching would kill her quickly.
A bright light flashed and she gasped, trying to draw her legs up higher on the stone. The shining glow
washed over her, enhancing the torn and tattered appearance of her skin. She winced and licked her dry
lips.
“Who’s there?” she asked again, a tear trickling down her cheek.
“My name is Hephaestus.” The deep voice reassured her. “And I’ve come to take you home.”
Shoulders sagging with relief, Amy blinked back the tears. “Are you really Hephaestus?” Could Pyron
be playing yet another cruel trick on her?
The spectrum of light broadened and a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped into her line of vision.
Entranced, Amy could only stare at the vision facing her.
Could any mere mortal be as beautiful?
With streaming locks of dark brown hair that flowed to his shoulders, a chest enhanced with rippling
muscles and a stomach so flat she could have balanced her mother’s dinner plates easily, the man or god
as it were, personified perfection. And when he spoke again, his voice poured over her like honey
warmed by the sun.
“I’m really Hephaestus.” He walked closer and Amy caught the scent of his skin, warm, woodsy and
clean. He wore little more than rawhide pants, black boots, and a silver chain around his neck and when
he reached for the bracelet circling her right wrist, she could clearly see his eyes. Silver orbs. How
apropos for the God of Fire.
He snapped the steel easily, as if it were little more than a thin piece of string. “How long have you been
here?”
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, Amy looked away. “I’m not sure. I lost track of time. Maybe the
passing of three moons.”
Hephaestus’ jaw clenched and he broke the other bracelet with a quick flick of his fingers. “Can you sit
up?” He placed his arm around her shoulders to assist her and the second Amy felt the warmth of his
embrace, she relaxed.
He hadn’t come to harm her. This was well and truly the god she’d read about in the textbooks at
school. So many stories had been written about Hephaestus’ forge and the unbreakable steel he created
with his powers. But none of those fables had ever properly depicted the god’s physical attributes. Or
his gentleness. He’d always been portrayed as a relentless foe who captured his enemies and tormented
them without mercy. But Amy saw him differently.
“Are you unwell?” He broke into her thoughts.
Amy felt the heat climbing up her face. “I…I’m…yes, but I’ll be okay. I just need some water.” As
soon as she finished speaking, she saw a cup appear in Hephaestus’ hand. He brought it to her lips and
she drank deeply, allowing the cool liquid to bathe her parched throat.
Relieved, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes, seeing something flash within the depths of his
gaze. “Thank you and thank you for saving me. I didn’t think Pyron would tell anyone.”
Hephaestus lifted her in his arms. “He didn’t.”
Amy settled against his chest. “Are you taking me home now?”
“Not yet. You have injuries I must attend to. I will summon Asclepsius to help me. You would not
want to frighten your family by returning in this manner.” He spoke matter-of-factly with almost no
emotion in his voice. As he shifted her more tightly against his body, the dress she wore rode higher up
her thighs and Hephaestus’ gaze dropped.
Amy tried to tug the material down, but the tattered strands ripped from the pressure. She made a small
sound of dismay and lifted her eyes to find Hephaestus watching her. Knowing her face was beet-red,
she focused her attention on a spot just over his left shoulder.
“So where are you taking me?”
“To my home.”
Startled, her eyes flew to his. “Your home?”
His lips twitched. “Gods have homes, too, Amy.” His voice offered comfort and a hint of something
more. And the way he said her name sent chills down her spine.
“I didn’t mean to imply…”she stopped talking, unsure of how to continue. He knew her name. The
knowledge shouldn’t make her tingle inside, but a warmth stole over her body, wrapping her in intense
heat. She’d always had a fascination with the gods, but this one, the God of Fire, took her breath away.
She cleared her throat softly and changed the subject. “How long will it take Asclepsius to heal me?”
“Not long. Now, hold on tight.”
Amy had just enough time to follow the command before the air shifted, splicing open in a long stream of
bright light. Her squeal was lost in the transfer and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw unfamiliar
surroundings made up of dark, stone walls. The heat was almost overwhelming.
“Welcome to my home,” Hephaestus whispered into her ear.
She shivered in spite of the fire glowing several steps ahead. “You can put me down now.”
Instead of taking her up on her offer, Hephaestus began walking toward a long corridor, his steps steady
and sure. They passed by a stretch of doors, walls covered with ancient artifacts Amy couldn’t see well
before the god stopped in front of a golden door.
Was it his bedroom? The thought made her tingle. “I’m really okay, Hephaestus. I’m feeling better
already. In fact, I don’t think there’s any need to call the healer. I’ll be perfectly…”
Hephaestus kicked open the door and Amy gasped. The room was straight out of a fantasy. With
silken draperies hanging over a circular bed, furs adorning the floors and bright orange flames flickered
inside the hearth, it promised much more than comfort. A tray of fresh fruit and cheese occupied the top
of a sturdy, wooden table and two, silver chalices completed the scene.
“This is your bedchamber?” She hoped her voice didn’t squeak.
He didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he carried her to the bed, parted the silky strands of the drapes
and placed her atop satin pillows. He took his time adjusting a softly-scented blanket over her before he
replied. “Yes, it is.”
Her mouth went dry as she looked up. Their eyes connected and held before Hephaestus straightened
and whirled away from her. “I must go summon Asclepsius. I shall return.” His boots thumped across
the floor and he was gone before Amy could say another word.
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