Sealed With A Kiss

Even gods must sleep betimes.

The words formed in his mind before Hermes opened his eyes.

He stared up at the anonymous ceiling. Not Shakespeare. He had seen all the plays, some more than once, at the original Globe Theatre and still kept a hardcover Collected Works in this digital age, so he knew the Bard’s writing well.

A hitch of breath brought his attention to the sleeping woman beside him, so he turned his head toward Gabriela. He did not attempt to perceive her dream as these seldom contained any reference to himself and were mostly bizarre or boring.

Though dismayed at his failure to wait for Kyrios to be his, seizing everything that life could offer was an inevitable urge after returning from the underworld.

First a long hot shower in his hotel room, then that T-bone steak, cooked to perfection for once, and preparing for his obviously much-anticipated appearance to an appreciative crowd.

Immersing himself in the audience afterwards and choosing Gabriela from all those pressing eagerly toward him. Taking her under his wing by bestowing a kiss on her cheek as if they were already long-established lovers, Hermes used his currently abundant power to obscure her face so that dozens of mobile phones aimed in their direction only captured his image clearly.

She was his, for tonight at least, and he was hers.

And still together the morning after which could sometimes disappoint after the night before. He reached for her, tracing the delicate outer curve of her ear and then holding her earlobe between finger and thumb, rubbing ever so gently.

When she surfaced to wakefulness, Hermes touched and teased and tasted, following the most ancient of rhythms, enjoying the reflections of himself that he caught within her mind, aware of her elevated heartbeat, the animal sweat of her body mingled with a perfume new to him.

Being a god to one delicious mortal rewarded his effort so much so that when she rested her head on his shoulder afterwards, he considered a liaison. But he had messages to deliver and public appearances to fulfil, a much busier schedule than his twenty-first century life usually demanded.

Even those he loved for a time had to cope with the fact that he was always a traveller, though none of them knew that the next road already beckoned him before they found out what he liked to eat for breakfast.

Lazily, Hermes compared the map of her mind to his own, finding more interfaces than expected. He could bookmark her as someone to return to when he was in London perhaps. Although someone else might have taken her in the intervening time, always a risk while he was on the road.

A smile twisted his lips as he thought of Penelope’s faithful wait for the faithless Odysseus. And, yes, he recalled that Gabriela’s parents lived in Germany, a place that her mind identified as home. She would probably not be in London after her studies finished.

Thinking of the current map of the world and all the differing landscapes upon it, Hermes eventually drifted into a dream. He raced with cheetahs across the veldt, the African sun making sights and smells more vivid, easily outdistancing them.

He slowed down so that a female cheetah could catch up. Then, his skin became tawny, spotted fur covered him, his body shifting to match her feline form. Her teeth nuzzled the back of his neck, could easily have killed him like she would take the life from kudu or gazelle.

He ignored the ever-observant part of his mind that reminded him that shapeshifting into animal form was not within his abilities. Instead, he lost himself in mating, cheetah with cheetah, under the hot blaze of sky.

***

Gabriela drifted back reluctantly when she heard the click of an unfamiliar lamp being switched on.

“Hast du von Katzen geträumt?” Marcus asked, his grey eyes nearly silver in the spill of light, a good mood teasing the corners of his mouth. Most of the hotel room was in shadows.

She smiled, loving the way he spoke, the accent very familiar though he assured her he had not been born anywhere near Celle bei Hannover. “I remember nothing about cats, but I do miss my black cat Beethoven. My parents look after him while I study in London. Why do you ask?”

He only nodded, his hand stroking the side of her face then his magic fingers caressed the back of her neck which felt more erotic than expected.

As they had slept after passion in their nakedness, no obstacle prevented them from resuming the delicious exploration of each other’s bodies.

Without the least awkwardness, when the time came, she appreciated how he reached over to the bedside table, unwrapping another condom and slipping it on.

Gabriela soon felt as if she was floating up and up into the sky, then standing high on a cliff with a sparkling sea spread out below. With one last thrust, Marcus pushed her over the edge.

Her body rippled as she flew and then sank next to him on the hotel bed. Despite her trembling, she felt so safe and happy beside him.

His soothing murmurs were not in German or English or any other language that she recognised. She felt almost as if he was telling her a story just before she surrendered to sleep.

***

When Gabriela returned to consciousness, she opened her eyes to an empty hotel room.

This seemed surprising, but as her brain awakened fully, she wondered why should it be? Perhaps because of a dream she had.

How lucky to get a ticket to see the famous Magician from Britain’s Got Talent perform. So much more impressive in person than when viewed on her laptop. Rather than have to deal with late night transport afterwards, she had booked herself into a clean, well-maintained hotel not far from the venue.

Stretching, she felt an unusual languor as if she had slept deeper than usual and wanted to turn over and go back to sleep. A huge yawn took hold of her face. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved her mobile. Ten past ten already. Checkout time was eleven so she marshalled her energies to get out of bed.

Glancing down at the rumpled sheets, she felt amused. What a restless night she must have had. The shower stall was already damp, though she didn’t remember showering. Maybe she had done this on auto-pilot last night.

When Gabriela returned to the main room, her mobile chirped with a new message.

Only one of those spams or scams. She had apparently won a prize in a competition called Sealed with A Kiss.

About to delete the message, she noticed the sender was someone calling himself Marcus.

But she didn’t know anyone with that name, not here in England and not at home in Germany.

Curiosity made her read the entire thing, wondering if one of her friends was playing some silly joke.

Her eyes widened when she saw that the prize was a week’s holiday in Hannover.

The listed attractions did not interest her greatly. However, her parents would love her to visit them in Celle for a week. This idea made her sit down on the edge of the bed so that she could consult the genius of Google.

To her amazement, Sealed with A Kiss seemed to be a legitimate contest. Her details had been entered into the competition due to purchasing a ticket to see the Magician.

Her lips opened as she remembered his sleight of hand performance which involved a young woman from the audience kissing the back of a card.

Those magic fingers had torn the card into tiny pieces, dropped the remnants into a small flaming pot, then with an elegant motion, conjured the exact same card from empty air. He showed the card to everyone, including the lipstick stain.

Magic fingers.

Gabriela felt a very pleasant tingle go through her entire body.

She blinked, deciding she really must get dressed and have breakfast. Her mind was wandering too much, maybe still caught in some pleasant dream that she failed to remember.

Once again, she bowed her head to check for more details on the mobile. She didn’t need to respond immediately and also could choose the dates for her free Hannover trip, anytime within the next three months.

This reassured her that it wasn’t a scam as they usually wanted you to respond within 24 hours or even sooner. And no payment or credit card details were demanded.

How good that she had time to find out when she could spare a week from her studies and then check with her parents about whether they had made any plans.

***

From a corner of the room, wearing his invisibility cloak, Hermes watched Gabriela dress, pleased that she had looked at the winning contest message while he was still here. He liked to see the results from his spontaneous ideas, pleased that he was as adept at navigating the internet as he was anywhere in the wide world. Liberating money from a wealthy man’s account and creating a contest out of thin air, as it were, had taken only minutes, but then he was the god of thieves.

Gabriela would probably not understand the meaning of probably, that letters between lovers in bygone days might have that written on the back and be literally sealed with a kiss.

After watching his latest lover begin to apply fresh makeup, Hermes let himself out of the hotel room, walked along the corridor and into the lift just as the doors were closing.

Reaching the lobby floor, the lift opened, attracting some odd looks because it seemed vacant.

Hermes smothered his impulse to laugh at the confused mortals and edged his way between them, already pondering where he would break his fast.

Somewhere quiet, he decided. The publicity and acclaim last night followed by the extended intimacy with Gabriela made him want to detach himself from mortality for a while. He also needed to decide which god he would visit next with a message from Zeus.

After following someone else through the revolving door into a noisy London street, he murmured Robert Frost’s poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”. This occupied his mind for long enough so that he could allow a potential destination to rise up from his persistent awareness of all the roads around him and every possibility they contained.

Mind made up with no need for conscious thought, Hermes set off in the direction of a new Greek eatery which he had never tried before. He hoped for good food and possibly some Greek conversation as well. If Gabriela had been Greek instead of German, he might have established himself more definitely in her life rather than erasing her memories of the night she spent with him.

But, of course, Kyrios still waited somewhere in his future.