I Can See You (The Gods Made Me Do It Book 5) Read online

  I Can See You

  The Gods Made Me Do It – Book 5

  By Lisa Oliver

  I Can See You (The Gods Made Me Do It #5)

  Copyright © Lisa Oliver, 2019

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Cover Design by Lisa Oliver

  Background and cover model artist courtesy of Shutterstock.com

  First Edition March 2019

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, Lisa Oliver. [email protected]

  No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Lisa Oliver. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  I Can See You is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books By Lisa/Lee Oliver

  Dedication

  Hate will not succeed where LOVE is present.

  Chapter One

  “Damn it all to fucking hell.” Artemas was not prone to swearing, but studying his charts, looking for an anomaly, some mistake he’d made and finding none, was pissing him off. It was all there in black and white. The chances of him meeting a fated mate were increasing every day. He ran his eyes over the list of the fallen, looking for a pattern – just as he had done every day for the past year or more.

  Sebastian.

  Thanatos.

  Abraxas.

  Nereus.

  Poseidon.

  Lasse.

  Thor.

  “There is no pattern,” he muttered angrily, even as his mind went over the connections yet again. Sebastian and Thanatos were father and son. If the Fates were targeting family groups, it made sense that they’d find mates around the same time. But Artemas’s immediate family were a bit more problematic. Abraxas and Nereus, another father and son, found their mates at roughly the same time. Poseidon found Claude well before Lasse hooked up with Jason. Claude though, had a link to the god line, being Fenrir’s son. Fenrir, a Norse god who to Artemas’s knowledge wasn’t true mated, was the son of Loki, Thor’s brother.

  Maybe Thor’s mating means the Fates have wondered off from the Greek gods and are now concentrating on the Norse ones. Artemas’s anger dissipated and he even chuckled at the idea of someone like Odin meeting his true mate. It would likely be as catastrophic as if Zeus did. Both men were huge philanderers, although Poseidon was just as bad before Claude got his teeth into him. Artemas felt a small pang for his Uncle Hades who, by all accounts, was actively searching for his mate, but he’d gladly sacrifice Hades’ chance of eternal happiness if it meant he didn’t have to confront his own.

  “Are you still looking at those charts of yours?” Artemas looked up, barely hiding his shock. Poseidon rarely came into his library which is why Artemas had commandeered it as his own. “Working out statistics and creating cute little graphs isn’t going to stop the mating bug from hitting you if the Fates deem it’s your time.”

  “It’s not like you to be away from your newest off-spring. How are my half siblings getting along? Have they called the waters yet?” Artemas made sure to show no bitterness in his tone when he mentioned the baby twins. Their existence didn’t affect his life one way or another. Just because the Lord of the Sea had been too busy thinking with his cock when the likes of Nereus, Lasse, and Baby were young didn’t mean Poseidon couldn’t be a decent father now.

  “I’ll allow your attempts at diversion, this time.” Poseidon smirked. Artemas inherited most of his looks from his other father, but he and Poseidon shared a similar lip shape. “The twins are doing as well as any genius offspring from a powerful god would do. They’re not why I’m here. I got a communique from your uncle Zeus this morning. Something troubling.”

  “Has he found himself a fated mate?” Damn it, I need to stop thinking about mating and those three old crones. There is so much more to life…

  “If he had, I’m sure we’d have all heard about it. But no, this is something far more serious. What do you know about the Book of Silvanus?”

  Artemas struggled to think where he’d even heard the name before. “Ancient Roman god?” He suggested. “Attributed to the woodlands, pastures, and domestic households, I believe. I’ve never met him, and I’ve never found any reference to him leaving anything on paper, scrolls, books, or otherwise. He’s barely mentioned anywhere at all.”

  Poseidon’s lips twitched at the corner. “It’s not often I get a chance to educate the Librarian,” he said. “Silvanus is older than us, older than Zeus, older than anything the Romans ascribed in his name. The Romans might have collared him as their own, but his roots go back far further than even you and I could imagine. He’s almost as old as time himself.”

  Artemas would research that for himself, as soon as his father left, but for now, he needed to know why his father was in the library bothering him. The library was his haven, and while he might have to abide by his father’s wishes, he spent as little time with the man as possible. “Fascinating though that is, I fail to see why a random book written by a god who’s older than dirt has anything to do with me. Surely, he doesn’t seek to publish it after all this time?”

  It wasn’t unheard of. Many forgotten gods tried to dip their toe in human affairs without meddling, which was strictly forbidden. After being worshipped for centuries, many failed to adapt to the modern world who had barely a passing interest in the times of old.

  “As far as Zeus knows, Silvanus hasn’t been heard of or from in centuries. The damn book was hidden, much like the one that cute little Orin got his hands on, and now it’s not. This one has the potential to be just as dangerous, especially if it mentions anything about how the gods came to be.”

  “Where is it?” Maybe focusing on an u
nknown book will take my mind off that other annoying problem I have.

  “Sotheby’s, of all places,” Poseidon said with a dramatic flourish. “The book is part of a special antiquities and collectibles auction being held tonight in London.”

  Fuck. If father wants me to get it, that means being around people. Suddenly, getting his hands on the book didn’t seem so appealing. “Can’t Zeus send one of his minions down to bid on it? I’m surprised it even made it to the cataloguing stage if Zeus is so concerned.”

  “Zeus always gets himself in a dither about this whole non-interference law,” Poseidon’s expression let Artemas know what he thought of the law that bound them too. “I suggested he just zap it off this mortal coil and be done with it, but no, Zeus insisted he wanted you to get it.” Leaning forward, Poseidon added with a whisper, “I think Zeus is a bit worried he’ll look foolish if he finds out he can’t read it.”

  “He probably won’t be able to, if it’s written in the ancient tongue.” Artemas was fairly confident there wasn’t a language he couldn’t read, but then maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. “You mentioned Orin before. Why doesn’t he go with Thor and get it? We all know he can read anything that was ever created.” And yeah, I’m not bitter about that either. Orin’s gift was amazing, almost comparable to his own powers and lord knows Artemas had tested Orin’s often enough.

  “You mean you haven’t heard?” Poseidon slapped his knee, cackling with laughter. “The loving couple are expecting….”

  “Orin’s pregnant?”

  “Thor’s pregnant, and suitably horrified by it. It’s hilarious.”

  “That would explain why I haven’t seen the couple for a while.” Artemas’s lip twitched despite his need to keep his emotions from his all-knowing father. “I must send them my congratulations and a small gift. Regardless, I still don’t understand why any of this is our concern. Surely, if Silvanus is worried, he’d spirit the book away to safety himself.”

  Poseidon’s mirth dropped, and Artemas shivered as a sudden chill filled the room. “No one, across any of the pantheons can find Silvanus to tell him. It’s rumored… there’s a chance he no longer exists. The damage to the forests, urban sprawl, call it what you like, but the very foundation of what Silvanus stood for, what he created alongside the Mother herself, is being destroyed more and more every passing day. Your uncle thinks….” Poseidon shook his head.

  “Is that even possible? For a god to simply cease to exist?” Artemas felt a lurch deep in his gut.

  “I don’t know,” Poseidon said somberly. “Face it, we’re all moving into uncharted waters. My beloved mentioned the other day he believed the gods were finding their mates now, not only to reward them for a life well lived, but to offer them support as they witness the damage being done to their domains. Damage they can do nothing about.”

  “Claude is remarkably astute, although if that is true, it makes me feel sorry for Hades. He’s probably the only one not affected by what humans do on earth, in which case it’s unlikely he’ll be on the Fates’ mate radar,” Artemas observed, wondering if it was true.

  “Hades is affected. His realm might be intact, but it’s flooded with spirits who have no chance of passing on because of the evil deeds they instigated when they’re alive. And Claude’s idea does have merit. My own domain is suffering.” Poseidon shrugged. “Another damn oil spill covering miles of my precious seas. The gods might have thought they were doing the right thing in implementing the no interference rule, but fuck, I was tempted to do something when I saw that mess. How does anyone expect me to see all the damage caused by human’s stupid demand for more fossil fuels, when they’re killing hundreds and thousands of those creatures who depend on the water to live. One smote of my trident, one good sweep and I could’ve wiped them all out. Cleaned the waters, made things whole….” He broke off, struggling with a barely suppressed emotion.

  For the first time in a long time Artemas felt more than apathy towards his father. For all his faults, Poseidon loved the sea and every being that lived in it dearly. “I’m sorry father, I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been.”

  “Yeah, well, you can imagine what sort of mood I was in when I went home.” Poseidon raised his eyes, meeting Artemas’s gaze squarely. “Claude helped. Just by being there. Without him, well, let’s just say I’m not surprised that someone like Silvanus doesn’t want to be found. But if that book is the only part of his legacy left, it should be here – Zeus pointed out we have the most extensive and well-cared for library in the ancient world.”

  That was true. There was a huge library on the elven realm, but it didn’t contain anything relating to the gods. Zeus had a smaller one, but many gods shunned the written word, preferring the oral tradition of passing along stories. Artemas felt comforted by seeing the hard copies of myths and legends, especially about his own kind and researched them extensively. If the book was Silvanus’s legacy… “I have a contact at Sotheby’s so getting a ticket to the auction shouldn’t be a problem. The person there knows me as an academic with an interest in unusual and very early pieces. I assume money is no object.”

  “You bring it home, no matter what the cost,” Poseidon pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on. “Admittedly, Silvanus was of the land, we’re part of the sea. Personally, with the world destructing the way it is right now, I don’t think domains or designations matter anymore. I would have offered him safe harbor here if I’d known he was struggling. I would’ve… I wish I’d… I’m going for a swim.”

  Claude has given my father the tools to express what’s in his heart, Artemas thought with surprise as Poseidon abruptly disappeared. Like all gods, Poseidon was hugely territorial about his domain. To offer safe harbor to any land god was unthinkable before today. Silvanus must have been someone very special.

  Sighing heavily, Artemas put away his mating files. It was time to dust off a suit. Many people, mostly family, pestered him for the silliest of things which annoyed him no end. Poseidon rarely bugged him about anything except his lack of sex life. Artemas could suffer humans for a few hours if it meant making his father happy, and maybe visiting the auction would give him the chance to retain a small collection of the thoughts of a god who’d gone forever, and who was sadly forgotten by most.

  Chapter Two

  The one positive thing about an auction at Sotheby’s was it was generally a discreet, highbrow affair. Artemas had been a few times, picking up treasures for his personal art collection. His contact remembered him by name, and despite him not giving the required twenty four hours’ notice, processed his bidding application immediately. The auction started on time, and Artemas was content to sit at the back, waiting as a parade of ancient collectibles were sold with the slight raise of a paddle. Not surprisingly, there were very few actual bidders in the room, but the phones were busy and huge screens above the auctioneer showed there was a flurry of online bidders. Artemas realized belatedly, he could have conducted this whole transaction online, if he’d ever bothered to familiarize himself with the concept of computers.

  Artemas sat up a little straighter as roughly midway through the auction one of the stewards brought out a small book that appeared to be bound with a wooden cover. As the steward held the book up, a large picture of it was flashed on the screen. Artemas felt his heart skip a beat. The front cover was an elaborately carved scene of woods, birds, and animals. His fingers twitched, Artemas ached to touch it and see if it was as smooth as the visual suggested.

  “Lot 24,” the auctioneer intoned, looking down at his notes. “The information is scarce on this highly unique item. The present owner provided testing showing a work of indeterminate age. Author unknown. Language indecipherable by current experts and determined only as ancient. The item consists of papyrus pages loosely bound in a wooden cover. Analysis on the wood suggests an African origin dating back to three to five thousand BC. I must stress, no guarantees are given for the authenticity of this piece. All test result
s will be provided to the new owner. There are no market estimates for this piece, but I have an opening bid online for one hundred thousand pounds. Do I have one hundred and ten in the room?”

  This must be rigged. Artemas raised his paddle and kept it up. There is no way something of indeterminate value and origin could or should command such an opening figure. Unless, he thought as the figure got steadily higher, the opening bid was made prior to the auction to put off any other bidders. Or, it could be a friend of the owner trying to milk the piece for as much as he can get. Artemas had come across situations like that before.

  “Sir,” Artemas realized the auctioneer was looking at him. “The amount is currently sitting at two hundred and forty thousand, offered by our online bidder. Do you wish to continue?”

  Artemas gave a brief nod to indicate he did indeed wish to continue. There was a momentarily lull in the figures showing on the screen and then the amount shown jumped to one million pounds. A ripple of gasps rang around the room. Artemas allowed himself a small smirk. Not a friend of the owner then – someone was trying to secure the piece for themselves. “One point five million,” he said clearly.

  More than one person was looking at him in askance, but Artemas wasn’t worried what anyone thought of him. The auctioneer had a quiet word to someone standing behind him, probably assuring himself that Artemas could pay. He needn’t have bothered. Artemas’s human cover indicated he was the representative of a collective of anonymous buyers all worth billions of dollars, which to some extent was true.

  “One point five million pounds,” the auctioneer repeated. “Do I hear two million?”

  It was as if the room held its breath. There was no change to the number on the screen.

  “The bid stands at one point five million pounds, I’ll take ten million more if that helps anyone.” The auctioneer was doing his job, squeezing as much out of the item as possible, regardless of how much the book was actually worth.