By Jay Mendell
“Oh, Lord Death—!”
Thanatos flinched instinctively, already looking for an escape. But before he could do anything, a pair of hands latched onto his arm, nails digging into his skin.
“Aphrodite,” Thanatos sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The goddess peered up at him, giving him a sly grin.
Aphrodite only used that specific tone when she wanted to ask him for an uncomfortable favor. The last time he’d agreed to such a thing, he’d ended up having to distract poor Hephaestus while Aphrodite snuck one of her human lovers into their domain. Uncomfortable for a number of reasons; not the least of which being that Hephaestus had understood exactly what was going on, and had clearly only been humoring him.