Marked

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Marked Page 28

by Elisabeth Naughton


  “No,” she whispered. “That…can’t be true.”

  “The truth is never a lie. Your sister even recognized how wrong these heroes were to try to mold your destinies. It’s why she came to me and bartered for your soul. And she did so against her father and her fiancé’s wills.”

  “Fiancé?” Casey asked, having trouble following he god’s words.

  “Oh, darn.” Hades snapped his fingers. “I guess your Argonaut forgot to tell you that as well.” His obsidian eyes sparked. “The good hero Theron here is scheduled to marry Isadora as soon as the prophecy is fulfilled.”

  Casey’s heart slammed into her ribs as she looked toward Theron. He didn’t deny it. And he didn’t open his eyes, even now. The guilt-ridden expression across his face confirmed Hades’s claim.

  Her heart shattered right there. Broke into a million pieces at her feet. The pain of betrayal in the center of her chest was as real as if she’d been stabbed with a blade.

  Hades held out his hand. “Come with me and I will show you the truth, Acacia Simopolous. You will see, and you will believe.”

  Theron shot to his feet. “No. Acacia!”

  Electricity flashed out of Hades’s hand. Theron was rammed into the wall once more. He groaned and fell to the floor, this time surrounded by a pile of plaster.

  “You will be safe while you are with me, human. No harm will come to you, I promise.”

  Tears burned the backs of Casey’s eyes as she looked at the hand extended to her. Everything Theron had told her, everything she’d started to believe, was nothing more than a lie. Indecision warred within her. But one thing Hades said got through.

  She had a sister. One who didn’t know her but who’d gone to hell to barter for her soul. There was still one person who needed her.

  “I don’t have any clothes.”

  Hades’s smile was laced with victory. “Taken care of.”

  Instantly, she was dressed in a white billowing blouse and matching loose-fitting pants.

  Casey dropped the sheet. And lifted her hand to slide her fingers into the palm of a god.

  “No! Acacia!” Theron screamed.

  She was floating. At her side she heard Hades’s voice, but when she turned her head she saw nothing but fog as thick as soup surrounding her. “It’s really too bad for your crappy genetics. It’s you who should be queen.”

  “What do you mean?” His hand wrapped firmly around hers, almost as if it were holding her together from disintegrating into a thousand microscopic pieces across time and space.

  “Your sister is weak. She’ll make a terrible queen, but fortunately for her, she was born Argolean and you were not.”

  “She had to have some courage to come to you. That’s the mark of a leader, isn’t it?”

  He chuckled next to her. “Desperate. That’s what we call her reckless actions. She’s the one who should be burning thyme. Not you. Don’t fool yourself into thinking otherwise, human.”

  Nothing he said made sense, and she was distracted by the fact she didn’t have a clue where he was taking her.

  “To see an army,” he said. “And believe me, you will soon understand all.”

  “Stop reading my mind,” Casey snapped. “It’s rude.”

  His hand tightened around hers, and for a frightening moment she feared he’d let go and she really would burst apart into a thousand pieces. Right then she realized the foolishness of her short temper. But then he laughed, a low and menacing sound that seemed to come from nowhere. “Oh, you really would be the better queen. Pity the daemon who tried to mess with you. I’ve been watching you, you know. Wondering how this would all play out. The others in past generations, they’ve been so disappointing. But you…you might just do yet.”

  It was on her tongue to tell him to stop playing games with her when suddenly the fog lifted and they flashed onto the edge of a cliff. Casey gasped, and her arms flew out to steady herself as she teetered on the ledge. Pebbles at her feet skidded and pinged down the three-hundred-foot sheer drop to the burned valley below.

  Hades pulled her back from the ledge. “Not yet. And not here. There are other plans for you.” He pointed with his long finger. “Look down, Acacia. And see the army Atalanta is preparing.”

  Her breath left her in a rush as she saw the thousands upon thousands of daemons in the valley below. Looking closer, she realized their black skin was what was making the ground seem burnt. She took three quick steps back until she slammed into Hades’s chest.

  “They can’t see you, human. So take a good look.” She shivered as her blood ran cold. There were so many. Sparring hand-to-hand, with swords and weapons she’d never seen before. In training. For a war.

  In the center stood a woman in crimson robes, with flowing black hair, doling out directions and barking orders. When one daemon was outmaneuvered by another in a duel with bare hands, the woman lifted the whip in her hand and brought it down sharply across his back until blood the color of her robes stained the ground.

  Action near her stopped. But not a single daemon stepped to the rescue of the punished one. The whip came down over and over until the one lying on the ground was bathed in blood and motionless.

  Casey put a hand over her mouth as she watched the beaten daemon being dragged to the side of the training area. He was left there to suffer while the rest went back to their maneuvers.

  “Do you know how a daemon comes to be?” Hades asked in her ear.

  Casey swallowed hard and shook her head.

  “Daemons are nothing more than the soul of a human, trapped in the Fields of Asphodel.”

  “Purgatory,” Casey whispered.

  “Something like that,” Hades said, sounding amused. “Atalanta loves to prey on the unfortunates, and as you can see, she’s convinced many that servitude to her is a thousand times better than what they will experience with me. Some are genuinely evil and know they’ll be sent for punishment. Some are just plain stupid. With her, they’re reborn in the image of what she’s made them. Strong fighters. Without conscience. Monsters. But there’s a catch.”

  The smile in Hades’s voice put Casey on instant alert.

  “If they’re killed a second time, they’re mine forever. To spend eternity suffering at my hand in Tartarus, whether they were truly evil or not.”

  “You made her immortal.”

  “I did. I’m a god who’s always looking for a deal. Balance in the universe. And her request? Centered on revenge? Oh, you can’t get better than that.”

  Casey’s back tingled. “What did she offer you in exchange?”

  “The soul of every Argolean she kills.” Casey’s blood went cold. “Every half-breed as well.”

  Sickness swelled in Casey’s stomach. “Why are you showing me this?”

  “Because I want you to see. And believe.” He leaned down to her ear. “What do you think she’s planning to do with that army, Acacia? It’s not just for looks.” When she didn’t answer, he moved closer, until she felt the long lines of his body against her back. Her stomach pitched. “They’re going to devour the half-breeds. Decimate the Argonauts. When those warriors aren’t guarding the portal anymore, Argoleans will seep into the human world and be destroyed in droves. And the daemons will spread like fire across Argolea.”

  “Oh, God,” Casey whispered.

  He chuckled in her ear, his hot and wanton breath sliding under her garments to send a shudder through her body. “Your human god can’t do anything for them. I think it’s time you see what it is she hates so much.”

  He placed his large hands on her upper arms, and they flashed through fog again until she was once more standing on a rise, but this time the view beneath her was one out of a fantasy. A lush green valley, surrounded by woods and meadows and majestic snow-capped mountains. In the center sat a sparkling city made of what seemed to be all marble, with a centralized marketplace, bustling people and a castle that looked like it had been plunked there straight out of Cinderella’s fairy tale.


  It was the same city she’d glimpsed from Theron’s house, only closer and more real.

  “Oh…my.” Something warmed in the center of Casey’s chest. A feeling like she’d finally come home.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Hades said at her side. “Tiyrns. The city of white. Created for a hero, wouldn’t you say?” Casey could only nod. “Be a pity to see it and all of Argolea disappear.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your sister, Isadora, is the only heir. By Argolean law, no one but a member of the royal family may rule the land. Your father, the king, is dying from old age. And she’s as sick as you are. If she passes without producing an heir, the rule of Argolea will fall to the Council of Elders, who believe the Argonauts do nothing but instill fear. Imagine, Acacia, what will happen when your sister is gone.”

  Dread welled in Casey’s chest, and suddenly she understood why Hades had taken her to the Underworld. “They’ll be wiped out by Atalanta’s army.”

  “Yes.”

  She looked back over the valley, and what was left of her heart broke.

  “There’s only one way to prevent that from happening,” Hades said beside her.

  “How?”

  “Search your soul and you’ll find your answer.”

  She did. And knew.

  The only way was for her sister to live. As if she’d heard it a thousand times, the prophecy Hades had spoken of earlier ran through her mind.

  And as it did, she thought of Theron and why he’d been sent to find her. All of his gruff actions suddenly made sense. Except…when she remembered the way he’d looked at her when she was beneath him only hours ago…Something didn’t add up.

  He’d brought her here yesterday, and still he hadn’t turned her over. And when he’d come home last night he’d seemed angry, but not at her. He’d been angry with her father.

  It hit her then.

  He’d changed his mind. Even before they’d made love. Even knowing his actions were possibly going to destroy his world, he wasn’t willing to let her die to save her sister. His fiancée.

  “Answer me one thing,” she said softly, staring at the castle, knowing Hades was reading her thoughts but needing to put this one question into words. “Am I his soul mate?”

  “Yes.”

  She drew in a breath.

  “Nasty gift from my brother’s vindictive wife. Hera knew if Theron ever found you, he wouldn’t let you fulfill your destiny.”

  Her destiny. Casey nearly laughed at the irony. Either way she looked at it, she was destined to die. And that truly sucked, especially when she realized she’d finally found the one place she belonged, and the one person she belonged to. But life for her had never been easy. It made sense that death wouldn’t be either.

  The only question left was how it would happen. On her terms or not.

  She slanted a sideways look at the god beside her. “Am I to be tortured in Tartarus as well?”

  His smile was actually warm, so at odds with everything else she sensed about him. “No. You’ll sail to the Isles of the Blessed.”

  She looked back at the castle. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “It’s not. It’s actually quite nice.”

  “And if I go to her? My sister?”

  “She will rule until her time is at an end.”

  That didn’t sound so bad either.

  “And what about Theron? What will happen to him?”

  Hades shrugged. “The Argonaut’s fate is none of my concern.”

  “Surely you know, though.”

  A bored look crossed his face. “If you go to Isadora? Nothing. Things will be for him as they were before. If you decide to go back to the half-breed colony…” He lifted one shoulder, dropped it. “He may be punished for not following orders and bringing you back.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “May be?”

  His mischievous smile returned. “I’m not an oracle, Acacia.”

  “You’re a god, though.”

  “Yes, but even the greatest of gods cannot tell the future. Free will and all that crap, you know.”

  Free will.

  Casey looked out over the valley. Closed her eyes and tuned in to her senses. When not even a tingle ran over her back, she had her answer.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at Hades. “Take me home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  He felt like he’d taken forty thousand volts to the chest. Which he probably had.

  Gritting his teeth, Theron scrambled to all fours and tried to push himself upright. The room spun. His head lolled on his shoulders. On a groan, he dropped down to the ground again and took several deep breaths before pushing up once more.

  Stars fired off in his line of vision, but he kept going.

  A roar tore out of him as he finally sat up and collapsed back against the wall. He was sweating already. Shaky. That fucking god…

  Boots clomped outside on his deck seconds before he heard voices. Voices he recognized.

  “In here!” he managed in a raspy voice.

  The door to his bedroom flew open. Through hazy vision he saw Gryphon, Cerek and Phineus file into the room.

  “Holy hell,” Cerek said, coming around to help Theron to his feet. “What happened to you?”

  Phineus took his other arm. “This is a sight I never thought I’d see.” He sniffed. Leaned closer to look at Theron’s hair. “Gods, have you been burned?”

  Theron found his footing and eased free of the guardians’ grips. Of all the Argonauts, Phineus would be the one to recognize singed flesh, since he had that whole fire-breathing-dragon thing down pat. “Something like that. Who’s manning the portal?”

  “Titus,” Cerek told him.

  Good. Theron had to get word to his kin not to let Acacia leave. “I need your help. She’s missing.”

  “We know,” Gryphon said from across the room. Blond hair fell across his forehead, and a day’s worth of stubble covered his jaw. “Demetrius and Zander are already looking for her. The king’s having a conniption. And considering what Zander said you did yesterday, you’re lucky the king hasn’t strung you up by your balls. This doesn’t look good, man.”

  “How could you know that?” Theron asked. “She only left here mere minutes ago.”

  “Isadora was here?” Phineus asked at Theron’s side.

  “Isadora?” Theron glanced from Phineus to each of the other guardians in the room. “Not Isadora. Why would she—?”

  And then it hit him. “Oh, skata. He took them both.”

  The dizziness returned to Theron’s head. He reached a hand out to the wall to steady himself. Shrugged from Cerek’s grip when the Argonaut tried to help him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guardians’ confused expressions as they looked at each other and then back at him.

  “Who took what where?” Gryphon asked.

  Silence.

  “The woman,” Cerek finally said in a knowing voice. “The human woman he had here yesterday. Son of a bitch.”

  “Wait.” Phineus held up a hand. “What woman?”

  Theron braced his forearm against the wall. “Hades was here.”

  “Holy fucking A,” Cerek muttered.

  “Here? In the flesh?” Gryphon asked. “I thought the gods were banned from Argolea.”

  “Hades isn’t an Olympian,” Cerek said. “Only the twelve Olympian gods are banned from our realm. Son of a bitch.”

  Theron ignored them and turned a slow circle. “I have to figure out where he would have taken them. Not to the Underworld. It would have to be here—”

  “Theron,” Cerek warned.

  “—not to the castle or the temple. Both are too busy. Somewhere private. Somewhere sacred. Somewhere…Why can’t I think?” He pressed his fingers to his forehead, then without warning slammed both arms against the wall. Wood and plaster splintered into a thousand pieces to rain down on the floor as he roared out his frustration.

  The room went silent. None of t
he guardians dared speak, because they each knew he was strong enough to rip their arms and legs off if he wanted to. And in his current mood, that wasn’t entirely unlikely.

  And that’s when it hit him.

  His head came up sharply, covered in a layer of fine white powder from the stone he’d disintegrated. “Skata.”

  “Theron, wait!” Cerek called as Theron raced for the door.

  Pain forgotten, Theron paused long enough to slam his feet into a pair of boots in the hall. Not waiting for the others, he yelled, “Get Callia and bring her to the Stone Circle. Do it now!”

  And then he ran.

  “Where are we going?” Isadora asked Persephone through the fog.

  “You’ll see.” The goddess squeezed Isadora’s hand. “We’re nearly there.”

  It’d been a long night. A night Isadora did not want to remember. Every time she thought about what she’d seen…

  Her stomach revolted again, and she felt the bile sliding up her throat.

  “Do not even think about getting sick again, little queen.” Persephone’s hand tightened around hers. And her sadistic laugh was the only thing that kept Isadora from losing what little dinner she’d eaten. “When this is over, you’ll thank me. It’s long past time you tapped into your hedonistic god side.”

  Isadora closed her eyes tightly. Don’t think about that. Or her. Or him. Or what they did. Don’t think about anything except you and Acacia and the fact…you saved her.

  “And here we are,” Persephone said.

  The fog cleared, and cold air shivered over Isadora’s shoulders. In front of her she saw majestic green olive trees and a purple mountain rising from the ground. She knew she was in Argolea, she just wasn’t sure where. She turned. And spotted the stone table in the center of the circle.

  “What is this?” Her eyes flicked over the large, flat rock surrounded by the charred remains of kindling and fuel where Argolean bodies were burned in the funeral rite that freed their souls to the Isles of the Blessed. “Why are we here?”

  Persephone, a good foot taller and a thousand times more regal, smiled down at her. “Because this is where it will happen.”

 

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