Calistos: Guardians of Hades Series Book 5

by Heaton, Felicity

  Fire burned in his blood at that.

  He focused on the present and on learning more from Thanatos, because he had the feeling he was missing something.

  “Perhaps the thing has his reasons.” Thanatos leaned back in his throne. “Although I cannot see an Erinyes wanting to help a necromancer serve justice. The three are normally only driven by their own sense of right and wrong. This one would have to view the perpetrator of whatever the thing wants revenge for as guilty of the crime.”

  “This one wants that fiend dead,” Marinda spat, a cold snarl to her voice that had Cal checking on her.

  Her eyes blazed violet.

  “So I see.” Thanatos smiled slowly at her. “So I do not see what use you would be to him.”

  That smile faded.

  “Unless.”

  “Unless what?” Cal barked, not regretting the force he had put behind his voice when Thanatos arched a black eyebrow at him. “You can clearly think of another reason he might want her, so spit it out.”

  “Such a demanding little god.” Thanatos tipped his head back and glared down the line of his straight nose at Cal. “You would be wise to treat me with more respect.”

  He would be wise to do that. Cal knew it. He just couldn’t convince himself to be civil and respectful, or patient, when he felt as if he was close to finding out the reason why Marinda had been hidden and why she was being targeted.

  “It is possible that the thing wants her for another reason. I have heard nothing of the Erinyes for decades, which leads me to two possible reasons. Either they are in hiding, or someone has taken them captive to use them.” Thanatos huffed. “I fear it may be the latter if this one is being targeted as you said.”

  “But you said that Marinda’s own sense of justice would guide her, and as she said, she wants this necromancer dead just as I do.” Cal wasn’t following.

  “Serving justice is what drives the Erinyes. It is what they were born to do. They are powerful in their own right, but they are even more powerful when they work together. The Erinyes are a trio for a reason, little god. They feed off each other.”

  Cal wanted to tell Thanatos to stop calling him little, but it fell to the wayside as he considered the implications of what the god had said.

  “The necromancer has the other two Erinyes and needs Marinda to complete this power cycle between them, making them stronger.” Cal paused, frowned and shook his head slightly. “Why? What reason could he have for wanting that?”

  It still didn’t make any sense.

  “There has to be something we’re missing.” Cal couldn’t shake that feeling, no matter how fiercely he tried, and the answer refused to come to him. “There’s nothing else you recall about the Erinyes that you want to say… dramatically drop on us?”

  Thanatos heaved his massive shoulders in a shrug, lifting his wings. “No. I know only that together they are strong and they feed off each other. If the thing you wish to kill has two furies with him, they will be strong, but their power will be incomplete… the cycle missing a vital piece. They will need this one to bring them to their full power.”

  Cal pushed aside the thought that the Erinyes were the necromancer’s captives and looked at it from another angle.

  He and his brothers had been on edge when they had realised a Hellspawn was involved. Now, he had a sinking feeling they were dealing with more than daemons and Hellspawn.

  They were dealing with goddesses too.

  Some of their enemies had mentioned a female, a powerful one he and his brothers had placed high in the ranks of the group. What if it wasn’t one female, but two?

  Two Erinyes who wanted to complete the cycle of power and strengthen themselves so they could satisfy the need for justice that drove them, delivering vengeance to the one they felt had wronged them.

  If the other two wanted revenge upon someone, and they got their hands on Marinda, there was a chance that it wouldn’t matter what she wanted. They would siphon her power to fuel themselves, using her.

  “I’m going to send a Messenger with some images and I need you to tell me everything you can about the necromancer in them.” Cal’s pulse thundered as his mind ran at a million miles per hour over the implications of what he had learned and the need to get Marinda somewhere safe roared inside him. “If you remember anything else about the Erinyes, send a Messenger to Tokyo.”

  He would take Marinda there as soon as he had grabbed some things from London. She would be safe in the mansion, surrounded by the more powerful wards. The daemons, not even the necromancer, wouldn’t be able to breach them.

  He looked down at the blue script on his right forearm. Light pulsed over it as he read it.

  “Wait.” Marinda twisted free of his grip. “No. I need to know more about what I am, about my mother. I can’t leave. The necromancer won’t dare come here.”

  Meaning she thought Thanatos could protect her.

  Cal wanted to bare his emerging fangs at the god as he gazed at her.

  Like hell Cal was leaving her here with the half-naked, painfully ripped and handsome god who was spreading his best asset as he looked at Marinda, flashing his black wings.

  Females were often a sucker for wings.

  Thanatos was no angel though.

  He would seduce Marinda out of Cal’s grasp in a heartbeat, would probably rip down her defences the moment Cal cast his portal and stepped through it.

  “We’re not discussing this. You can send a Messenger to Thanatos. Be pen pals for all I care… but I’m not leaving you here.” Cal snapped his hand around her wrist and this time he locked it tight.

  She battered his arm, slapping at it as he read the script and blue light shone from the letters to bathe her and him.

  He had never heard her curse before, so when she hit him with a barrage of them in French, he paused and looked at her. Her violet eyes flashed with fire at him, solidifying that feeling that she was going to be mad with him for a few days, if not the rest of his life.

  “Be careful, little god. It is not wise to anger a furie.” Thanatos grinned down at him.

  Something Cal was well aware of.

  Something he would just have to deal with.

  Because she was coming with him back to London.

  The portal opened and he pulled her through it, his mind lining up a list of things he needed to do as light swirled around them and gave way to darkness. He needed to get their things and go to Tokyo, and he needed to call a meeting, because now he knew for sure that goddesses were involved.

  Shit had just gone south.

  Cal landed in the living room of his apartment.

  Grabbed Marinda as she spilled out of the portal and twisted with her, covering her with his body and narrowly avoiding having his head cut off as a blade whizzed above him.

  He charted a dozen daemons surrounding him.

  Correction.

  Shit had just gone seriously south.

  Chapter 20

  Daimon stood over the hot tub on the broad white terrace of his hillside home in Hong Kong, staring down at the water as it swirled. The early morning sun was already warming the city, turning the air humid despite the changing season. He emptied his mind, attempting to purge everything from it, as if that would stop him from feeling the way he did.

  He wasn’t sure anything could stop this cold, hollow feeling in his chest.

  He cranked the temperature on the hot tub up, punching the button until it hit max and continuing to hammer it until the fierce burst of frustration had passed.

  He exhaled hard, closed his eyes and shut the world out.

  It didn’t help.

  He strode into the modern glass, steel and white-rendered concrete building that spanned the length of the terrace, the tinted windows reflecting the towering skyscrapers of the city below him. The air was cooler inside, blessedly drier. He breathed deep of it as he stripped off and tossed his clothes onto the white leather couch to his right.

  The pale marble floor
was cool beneath his feet as he removed his boots and socks, an extravagance that he was glad he had chosen. No matter how warm the city got, this floor always remained cold.

  Sometimes, in the heat of summer, he stripped off and lay on it, staring up at the ceiling, summoning his ice so he could lower his temperature. Sometimes, he wanted to be cold, welcomed the frigid blast of his power.

  Sometimes, being warm irritated the hell out of him.

  But not today.

  Today, he wanted to be warm.

  He craved it, that sense of normalcy, that brief connection with the man he had been before he had been banished to this dreadful world.

  Today, he ached to be that man again.

  Free of the constant presence of his power. Free of this shackle that bound him, stopping him from having even the most innocent forms of physical contact with another.

  He walked naked back out onto the terrace, his blue gaze scanning the forested peak that rose above him and the hill that ran steeply down to the city. He picked out every tree that was beginning to change colour, turning orange or red.

  He did love this time of year.

  He and Esher normally visited different parts of Japan and Hong Kong as the colours changed, enjoying the beauty of autumn.

  He wasn’t sure Esher would want to do that with him this year.

  Aiko had the whole of his brother’s focus now, was probably the one his brother would take with him to admire the autumn colours, and the cherry blossoms in spring.

  Daimon bit out a curse. What was he doing? Moping?

  He should be happy for his brother. For his brothers.

  But gods, it was hard to feel that way.

  He stepped into the tub and sank until the water lapped over his shoulders. It was hot, instantly chasing the constant chill from his skin. Bliss. He lifted his hands from the water. They were already bright pink, hurt a little because of the temperature of the water, but he didn’t care.

  He needed this warmth.

  He needed to feel normal again.

  Because it was all getting too much for him.

  He stared at the towers of Hong Kong that speared the sky beyond the hip-height thick glass panels that formed a barrier around the terrace of his home, his mind drifting as the heat of the water began to sink deep into his muscles.

  He wished he could be as reckless as Cal, acting without caring about the consequences, but that wasn’t him. Not anymore. Not for a long time.

  The ache inside him wouldn’t go away though, not until he did something about it. He knew that. It would continue to torment him, splitting his focus between his duty and the place he longed to be.

  Home.

  The Underworld.

  He needed to return there, even if it was only for a short while. There, his power would be as it had been before, under his control, no longer constantly emanating from him, manifesting itself against his will.

  Daimon twisted his right palm towards him and stared at it, at the drops of water that turned to ice crystals as they cooled.

  He just wanted to be able to touch someone without fear of hurting them—killing them.

  Was that too much to ask?

  His power was a burden, one that weighed heavily on his shoulders, harder on him than he cared to admit.

  And it had only been getting worse since Ares had found Megan.

  Before, he had felt a keen sense of solidarity with his older brother, a bond that had formed the moment their powers had manifested in this world and they had realised they couldn’t stop them from shimmering over the surface of their skin.

  And then Megan had come along, a Carrier with the ability to withstand and tolerate Ares’s fire, and even Daimon’s ice to a degree.

  Now, he felt alone.

  Isolated.

  Seeing more and more of his brothers finding love was painful, cutting him soul deep, and while he fought to keep his head above water, to keep on fighting the tide that wanted to pull him under, it was hard.

  Daimon tilted his head back and took in the morning sky, trying to see the beauty in it as the rising sun threaded fingers of clouds with gold, pink and orange.

  All he saw was hell.

  This world was hell.

  There was nothing for him here.

  He couldn’t wait for this mission to be over, was impatient to return to the Underworld. He wanted to go home.

  He wanted to purge the icy cold from his heart.

  Although he wasn’t sure that was possible.

  It had been there long before he had come to this realm and his power had manifested.

  Daimon closed his eyes and slipped under the water.

  Because he was drowning.

  And nothing could save him.

  Chapter 21

  “Run,” Cal whispered in her ear.

  Marinda couldn’t breathe as Cal shoved off her, twisted and hurled himself at a large man. They toppled over the dark grey couch and several of the men towering over her leaped into the fray. Wind whipped around her and she hunkered down, clutching the wooden floor as the blast of air caught one of the men and hurled him over her head. He hit the stairs that led upwards, the newel post cracking under the force of his impact.

  Cal roared as he surged upwards, dislodging the daemons, and swept his hand out. His face darkened, strain etched in every feature of it as he gritted his teeth and frowned. The wind that swirled around the room was slow to pick up pace. His lips twisted and he growled through clenched teeth as his eyes narrowed. His ponytail fluttered as the wind rushed faster, buffeting her too. His eyes turned stormy grey, his jaw flexing as he arced his arm upwards.

  One of the daemons nearest her shot into the air and smashed into the ceiling. White plaster rained down with him as he dropped to the floor. Her heart accelerated as he shook off the blow as if it had been nothing, shifted onto his feet and snarled, flashing twin rows of sharp teeth.

  Cal breathed hard, his chest straining with each one, and sweat dotted his brow. Something was wrong.

  He didn’t get a chance to catch his breath.

  Two male daemons rushed him.

  Cal fought them, dodging blows and landing punches, so focused on dealing with them that he didn’t see the other three who launched at him. He bellowed and arched forwards as one of them raked sharp talons down his back, recovering a moment later to twist at the waist and slam his palm against the man’s chest. The daemon flew across the room, hitting the door to the bathroom. It crashed open and he disappeared from view.

  “Marinda,” Cal bit out, his eyes never leaving his foes as he fought them, taking several more blows. He raised his arm, trying to block his face as the larger man he had tackled first threw a fierce right hook at him. A second daemon took the opening, slashing at his side with claws that shredded his T-shirt.

  And the flesh beneath.

  Blood spilled thick and fast down his hip.

  He growled, clenched his jaw, and the tempest encircling him caught the daemon and flung him through the window.

  Marinda flinched as the glass smashed.

  “Run!” Cal snarled.

  She couldn’t.

  She couldn’t move.

  He glanced at her, taking a blow to his shoulder, realisation dawning in his eyes, together with fear.

  On a vicious roar, he spun in a circle and the wind hurled every daemon away from him.

  He made a break for it as soon as the path was clear, leaping over the fallen couch to her. He stooped and snagged her wrist, pulled her up onto her feet and dragged her towards the stairs that led downwards.

  Her legs were weak beneath her, wobbling under her weight each time she set a foot down, and she feared she was going to fall as she stumbled along behind him, trying to shake the fear that gripped her.

  It sank its claws deeper into her when she sensed the daemons following them.

  “Teleport us,” she hissed, desperate to escape this madness.

  “Can’t. Already tried that.” H
e rounded the corner in the staircase and hit the training room.

  He pulled her behind him as he turned to face the stairs and threw his hands forwards. The daemons who had made it to the corner flew into each other and one even rocketed upwards into the air and struck the underside of the staircase above.

  Cal breathed hard and leaned forwards, his voice strained. “Wards on the building. Must be. Someone negated mine and trapped us here.”

  Her blood ran cold. “We’re trapped?”

  He cursed when two daemons leaped over the banisters to land close to them, pushed her behind him and backed into the training room.

  “We need to fight our way out of here.” He released her.

  She knew what he was really saying.

  She needed to fight.

  She couldn’t.

  Just the thought of fighting had her panicking, darkness threatening to shadow the edges of her vision.

  But she was the reason these daemons were here.

  And if she didn’t fight, Cal was going to lose and the daemons were going to take her.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  She was going to fight.

  She stared in horror as Cal attacked three daemons at once, keeping the rest at a distance with a wall of wind that shredded the plaster right back to the wood and brick behind it. Sweat dotted his brow and ran down his cheek, lines bracketing his lips as they compressed and his stormy eyes filled with fatigue. Something told her it wasn’t only his ability to teleport her that had been negated. His ability to control the air had been tampered with too, weakening him. Straining to use that power was draining him, placing him in even more danger. He needed her help. If they fought together, he wouldn’t have to rely on his power over the air to ensure they both made it out of this mess.

  She was going to fight.

  So why wasn’t she moving?

  She stood stock-still, heart pounding in her throat, limbs shaking as she stared wide-eyed at the battle before her.