God of My Dreams (Greek Heroes #1) ✅ Completed

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Three Amigos

The Three Amigos

    

“Zeus! What was all that? Did Hades turn you guys into sparkling vampires or something?” Hermes’ voice was playful as he dusted off the lapel of his jacket even though there wasn’t a speck on him.

As usual, the messenger god was perfect from head to toe – dark jeans, gray t-shirt, boots and a stylish leather jacket. Morpheus would never admit it, but the day he’d appeared to Gwen-Stacey in the Parisian café, he’d taken a page out of the Hermes Book of Style. For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, women loved the fashion-model-goes-weekend-casual look. Morpheus didn’t pretend to understand the trend, but even he freely admitted jeans were way more practical than togas. Now, as the messenger god stood before him, looking completely at home in the Underworld, he was struck again by how easy it was for the ancient god to assimilate into modern times. It was almost like breathing for him.   

Hermes looked from Morpheus to Aphrodite and back again waiting for someone to explain why they’d been nearly buried in a Thousand-Dead-Souls-Palooza. Morpheus gave Aphrodite a quick shake of his head to keep her from opening her mouth right away but it was too late.  

Aphrodite ran up to Hermes, not bothering to hide her relief as she gave him a quick peck on each cheek in greeting.

“No, thank Zeus for that!” she said, moving to stand next to him. Aphrodite got along rather well with the messenger god, but then again most people did. Hermes was easy for gods and mortals to get along with all things considered. She turned and gave him a stunning smile, much to Morpheus’ dismay, as she continued in an excited rush, “I have to admit, your timing is top notch, Hermes. It was getting a little grabby even for me.” The goddess patted her hair down once more, concerned the press of so many souls had ruined her usual perfect hair day.  

Morpheus agreed with Aphrodite on both counts but Hermes’ timing was almost too good. “Why are you here, Hermes? We didn’t call for you.” He did nothing to hide his suspicion. Morpheus had nothing against the messenger god, but there was no such thing as coincidence when any of his brethren were involved -- first Aphrodite, now Hermes?

Something was definitely up.

As if remembering something, Hermes reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his phone and checked it. “Funny…now that you mention it, I think I may have missed a text or two on my way down here.” They watched him check his phone, his fingers scrolling through his messages so fast it would make a 13 year old jealous.

Hermes was one of the few gods that kept his cell on at all times. He'd embraced the technological age wholeheartedly, everything from the PlayStation Network to the latest Smartphone. If artists were to make statues of his image today, they would almost be required to include a cellphone and an iPad in each hand.

The most social of the Olympians, Hermes constantly dropped in at random places if he was called either directly by cell or by prayer (prayer being a loosely held term nowadays). Zeus save anyone if they accidentally called out anything close to his name in the middle of something private or even remotely compromising. There was nothing Hermes liked better than uploading pics and videos to his Facebook or Instagram accounts, usually both, at the speed of light. He even had a blog called ‘Hermes Way’ with more than five million followers. According to Tor he was an online sensation – bigger than Perez Hilton (whoever she was). With nearly twelve million facebook friends, that equated to a lot of likes for someone flashing their bare ass in an elevator as they hooked up with their assistant.