Read Online Lure of Obsession (The Muse Chronicles Book 1) by Lisa Kessler - Free Book Online
Authors: Lisa Kessler
Tags: Fiction
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marked by the gods to protect the daughters of Zeus. When he finds his muse, his abilities are revealed. Or something. That’s not the exact translation.”
He opened his mouth to speak and stopped, then shook his head. “You’re telling me you’re my muse?”
She nodded slowly. “It seems that way.”
“Like, seriously a muse?” A humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “You look damn good for your age.”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like exactly?” His shoulders tensed. “I think I have the right to know.”
She braced herself and forced out the words. “I didn’t know until I was eighteen. I started having dreams of all the Theaters of the Muses throughout the centuries, and the final one was here in Crystal City. So then I had to come here. I was compelled, I guess. Obsessed. Anyway, when I got here, I found my sisters. There were nine of us, and each of us had dreams that led us to the condemned theater.”
“So your dad isn’t a Greek god?”
“No. But after we found each other, we compared notes and learned we were all having the same dreams. Crazy, right?” Mel sighed. “Aspects of our personalities were enhanced by the muse inside of us, too.”
She waited for him to reply or ask a question, but his silent investigator stare continued.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Clio could read Greek and started researching. There are ancient stories about the muses being reborn to each generation. We’re charged with inspiring mankind to move forward—inventions, music, and science. We can change the world. So we all settled here, bought the theater, and now we’re trying to restore it.”
Nate rested his hands on the edge of the bench, leaning toward the waves as if he was going to bolt at any minute. “So I was drawn there, too?”
“As I understand it. Each Guardian is a mortal man, just like us, but he has a muse to protect and a ‘gift’ to help protect her, but it doesn’t present itself until he finds his muse. Honestly, I don’t know how this works. Maybe you were pulled there to stop the explosion, to protect us. Or me…”
“Shit.” He pressed his lips together and blew out a pent-up breath. “And how was I picked for this detail?”
Mel frowned. The prophecy hadn’t mentioned unwilling Guardians. It hadn’t occurred to her that he wouldn’t want the responsibility.
Just when he was starting to make her believe the glass might be half-full…
“Supposedly you were marked by the gods from birth,” she explained quietly.
“They picked the wrong guy.” He got up and walked along the sand, his back to her.
Mel’s heart hammered so hard she had to rub at the ache. She knew it was a lot to drop on someone. She didn’t blame him for running as fast as he could the other way. But she hated to admit that she was disappointed. At least Callie would be glad to know their pact was still intact.
Mel got up and quietly went to crosswalk at the corner. Her car was parked at Gracie’s across the way. She reached to press the button when a large hand caught her wrist.
Nate’s deep voice teased her senses. “Where are you going?”
She dropped her hand and stared up at him. “You said you were the wrong guy. I thought we were done. I’m not going to force you to help us.”
“Wow.” He rocked back, shaking his head with a humorless chuckle. “Forgive me for not embracing this insanity instantly. Give me a few minutes to think this through.” His tone softened a little. “I’m not turning my back on you.”
She pulled her hair back from her forehead, staring at her shoes. “I guess I should probably tell you that the muse that awakened in me is the Muse of Tragic Poetry.” She tentatively peered up at him. “Jumping to the worst-case scenario is sort of my go-to since I turned eighteen.”
Nate laughed, a real, warm laugh that sent heat all the way down to her toes. “That’s why you teach high school poetry.”
Mel elbowed him
He opened his mouth to speak and stopped, then shook his head. “You’re telling me you’re my muse?”
She nodded slowly. “It seems that way.”
“Like, seriously a muse?” A humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “You look damn good for your age.”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like exactly?” His shoulders tensed. “I think I have the right to know.”
She braced herself and forced out the words. “I didn’t know until I was eighteen. I started having dreams of all the Theaters of the Muses throughout the centuries, and the final one was here in Crystal City. So then I had to come here. I was compelled, I guess. Obsessed. Anyway, when I got here, I found my sisters. There were nine of us, and each of us had dreams that led us to the condemned theater.”
“So your dad isn’t a Greek god?”
“No. But after we found each other, we compared notes and learned we were all having the same dreams. Crazy, right?” Mel sighed. “Aspects of our personalities were enhanced by the muse inside of us, too.”
She waited for him to reply or ask a question, but his silent investigator stare continued.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, Clio could read Greek and started researching. There are ancient stories about the muses being reborn to each generation. We’re charged with inspiring mankind to move forward—inventions, music, and science. We can change the world. So we all settled here, bought the theater, and now we’re trying to restore it.”
Nate rested his hands on the edge of the bench, leaning toward the waves as if he was going to bolt at any minute. “So I was drawn there, too?”
“As I understand it. Each Guardian is a mortal man, just like us, but he has a muse to protect and a ‘gift’ to help protect her, but it doesn’t present itself until he finds his muse. Honestly, I don’t know how this works. Maybe you were pulled there to stop the explosion, to protect us. Or me…”
“Shit.” He pressed his lips together and blew out a pent-up breath. “And how was I picked for this detail?”
Mel frowned. The prophecy hadn’t mentioned unwilling Guardians. It hadn’t occurred to her that he wouldn’t want the responsibility.
Just when he was starting to make her believe the glass might be half-full…
“Supposedly you were marked by the gods from birth,” she explained quietly.
“They picked the wrong guy.” He got up and walked along the sand, his back to her.
Mel’s heart hammered so hard she had to rub at the ache. She knew it was a lot to drop on someone. She didn’t blame him for running as fast as he could the other way. But she hated to admit that she was disappointed. At least Callie would be glad to know their pact was still intact.
Mel got up and quietly went to crosswalk at the corner. Her car was parked at Gracie’s across the way. She reached to press the button when a large hand caught her wrist.
Nate’s deep voice teased her senses. “Where are you going?”
She dropped her hand and stared up at him. “You said you were the wrong guy. I thought we were done. I’m not going to force you to help us.”
“Wow.” He rocked back, shaking his head with a humorless chuckle. “Forgive me for not embracing this insanity instantly. Give me a few minutes to think this through.” His tone softened a little. “I’m not turning my back on you.”
She pulled her hair back from her forehead, staring at her shoes. “I guess I should probably tell you that the muse that awakened in me is the Muse of Tragic Poetry.” She tentatively peered up at him. “Jumping to the worst-case scenario is sort of my go-to since I turned eighteen.”
Nate laughed, a real, warm laugh that sent heat all the way down to her toes. “That’s why you teach high school poetry.”
Mel elbowed him
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