by Ella Frank
As Paris’s eyes fluttered open, Thanos turned his head away.
“What’s wrong? Did I…did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he growled. “But you cannot want this, Paris. This is not real.”
“What? What do you mean this isn’t real?”
“You are drawn to me, just like your friends are to the ones they are supposed to hurt. You do not truly want me,” he said, and then thrust his face in close. “Look at me.”
As Paris’s legs slid down from his waist and his feet hit the floor, he said, “I am looking at you. I see you, Thanos. I see every line, every jagged scar marring your otherwise perfect face. And it’s a glaring reminder that we were sent here to hurt you. That we are the true monsters in this equation, not you.”
Thanos scoffed and spun away from him. “You do not know of monsters, glikie antra. Not of demons that have dragged you so far into the dark that you cannot even remember how to find the light, should you go looking for it.”
“Then talk to me. Unburden yourself. I want to know you.”
Thanos’s fangs punched free at the sincere request, and then, in a flash, he was turning Paris to face the wall. He tilted his head to the side so he could drag the tip of his canine along the vein that was now pounding in response to the threat of something so deadly.
“Are you so sure about that? You do not strike me as the type who is aroused by danger.” When Paris remained silent, save for the thunderous beat of his heart, Thanos continued. “You seem more like the kind who wishes to be romanced. But that is not me. Not now, not ever. I am not the knight who will save you, Paris Antoniou. I am the night in your nightmares.”
Paris’s Adam’s apple bobbed under Thanos’s hand. “You have told me over and over that you can read my mind. Look inside it. And then tell me I don’t know who you are and what I want. I don’t want to be saved from you, Thanos. I just want to be with you.”
In an instant, Thanos flipped Paris around and slammed his body up against him. “Then you are a fool. A beautiful, sweet fool. You were there; you saw with your own eyes. I am not who you need saving from. But mark my words: when he wakes up, you will need saving.”
Thanos then crushed his lips atop Paris’s, taking this moment from him, before he sent him away for good.
ETON CAME TO slowly.
He was sprawled out on the floor with his back to the wall and his legs out in front of him. The ache in his neck made him more than aware of how he had been waylaid in his latest quest for vengeance, and as he looked around the room and his vision started to come back, he saw snippets of his surroundings and knew where Thanos had brought him.
The Adjudication room. Damn him. Why has he not finished this already?
The frustration Eton felt over his current predicament waged war for supremacy amongst all his other varying emotions in that moment.
He was enraged over being halted in his quest for revenge.
Irritated by Diomêdês’s blatant betrayal of their familial bond.
And disappointed by Thanos’s inability to do what must be done.
Why was he keeping him alive? Eton was well aware there had been many times over the past few centuries where Thanos had wished him dead. That night at Charlie’s came to mind as the most obvious. So why was he hesitating now?
When no immediate answer came to mind, Eton drifted for a moment, his vision still blurred, as his mind looked for some kind of peace. It would not be long now. This infection, demon, whatever it was inside of him, was his way out. He knew that. It should have happened years ago, but pride had not allowed him, Vasilios, or Thanos to fail.
They had been so determined to temper what raged inside of him. So sure they could overcome the darkness. Yet now it was more prevalent than ever before. He could no longer control it. Could no longer rein it in, not even for Thanos, and it was that which let him know it was time.
With his resolve firmly in place, Eton tried again to focus on his surroundings, and when they sharpened and became clear, he was made aware of something else going on in the room with him.
He could hear the soft grunts and groans of one in the throes of— Yes, there it was again—the distinct growl of Thanos’s that he would know anywhere.
His eyes searched the room for the other occupants, and it didn’t take him long to spot them. Opposite him, up against the wall, Thanos’s head was lowered over the one he was without a doubt kissing heatedly.
Eton could see the leg Thanos had pushed between the two spread wide on the ground, and the roll of Thanos’s hips indicated he was well and truly enjoying what his body was doing in that moment, and Eton didn’t have to see the one behind Thanos’s large frame to know it had to be that third male, Paris.
He shut his eyes and listened, taking in the debauchery of the moment. The desperation he could feel pouring off the two as they attacked one another in one of the most primal ways two beings could. The strong scent of sex was beginning to fill the air, along with all the tension and testosterone that was emanating off each male, and it was that which had Eton’s teeth lengthening and his legs drawing up under him so he could get to his feet.
He opened his eyes then, and allowed himself a glimpse inside the mind of the one Thanos was so clearly aroused by, and what he saw there was astounding.
The face in this male’s vision was one he hardly recognized. It was not his Thanos. The vampire this male was envisioning was the one who’d faced him back in that office with Elias. It was the same vampire who’d roared at him earlier before breaking his neck—but the hard truth, the one he’d known back there and knew without a doubt now, was that the vampire across the room, the one this male was looking at, was no longer his.
As the reality of that sank in, and the reason why became clear, all of the jealousy and resentment he’d felt earlier in Thanos’s hallway for having been pushed aside rushed to the surface, and Eton let the monster that had settled roar back to life.
The sound tore from his chest, in a howl of rage, and when Thanos whirled around to face him, using his body to shield the one behind him, Eton’s claws extended and his indignation intensified.
“My Thanos. It appears you now protect someone else,” Eton snarled as he let his eyes travel over Thanos’s heaving body and hard cock. “Well, I guess we are about to see where your loyalties truly lie. Aren’t we?”
“Do not do this, Eton.”
“Why not? Were you not the one who just begged me to take you back? If you meant it, then this choice, it will be clear for you.”
“Eton…”
Thanos said something else after that, but it was too late, because attack and kill were the only two words he could now comprehend.
ALASDAIR TOOK LEO straight to the Chamber knowing that was where Vasilios was. Usually, the Chamber was sealed shut so nobody could enter except the three Ancients and whomever they granted entry to. But tonight the seal had been modified for two reasons. One, to keep Eton out, and two, to permit the head council members in.
So he easily got them inside.
Alasdair knew there was zero time to waste in showing their Ancient what they had found in this book of Leo’s, and—Wait, did he really just think of Vasilios as theirs?
When he looked to Leo, who had just re-formed beside him in jeans, and a very proper sky-blue polo, his lips curved and he knew he had his answer.
Yes, he’d thought exactly that. Because where he’d once been a part of an us, he now most certainly thought of himself in terms of them. As in the three of them.
“You have returned,” Vasilios said in way of greeting from where he sat on one of the three thrones flanking the dais.
He was dressed in full ceremonial attire for the meeting, and with his high, black-collared empire jacket and perfectly tailored pants, Alasdair couldn’t help hoping Vasilios would stand. He always had liked the regal way the ensemble outlined Vasilios’s flawless proportions.
Having heard his thought, Vasilios got to his feet an
d aimed a knowing smile in Alasdair’s direction, and then he took the steps down from the dais to come toward him and Leo, who, Alasdair discovered, was having a much similar reaction to the male now stopping before them.
“You do both realize that we will have company in the next fifteen minutes or so, do you not?”
At the reminder, Leo shook his head as though trying to clear it of the spell Vasilios always seemed to weave whenever he was near. And Alasdair merely inclined his in acknowledgment.
“Good. Because tonight is as much a presentation as it is informational. That means that you, agori,” he said, looking to Leo. “Must wear something befitting, well, me.”
Leo glanced down his body and then frowned. “I don’t look that bad. Plus, we were in a hurry. Jeans were as good as it was going to get.”
When one of Vasilios’s eyebrows arched, Alasdair couldn’t help but wonder at the fearless nature of their yielding when it came to him and Vasilios. Most cowered when either one of them walked into a room. But right from the very beginning, Leonidas Chapel had been nothing but curious about them and their abilities. He was fascinated beyond the initial draw, and now that he was bound to them, Alasdair could feel that the fascination had morphed and changed into something much more profound. And the enormity of Leo’s emotions were starting to draw forth a similar reaction from both him and their Ancient.
“Forgive us, Vasilios. But Leonidas is correct. Our appearance is as such because when we were at his apartment we found this.”
He held out the book Heroes, Gods, and Monsters of the Greek Myths, and when Vasilios took it, Alasdair said, “Page twenty-seven is particularly enlightening.”
As Vasilios flipped through the pages, he asked, “What is it?”
Leo said, “It was a gift. For my birthday. Elias gave it to me.”
Vasilios stopped looking through the pages at that little piece of information and brought his eyes up to Leo’s. “He gave it to you, you say?”
“Yes. The three of us all went out for drinks at—”
“The Dirty Dog,” Alasdair said, and when Leo turned to him, he shrugged. “That was the first night I saw you.”
“It was? I thought it was the night in my bedroom. You mean, you stalked me? For, like, weeks? Huh…”
“Continue, Alasdair,” Vasilios said. “I am sure once Leonidas realizes that you do not just lurk in shadows for everyone, he will be quite flattered by that.”
“I saw you leave the pub that night,” Alasdair said, and couldn’t help the twitch of his lips even with the severity of everything that was going on. “It was your birthday, and you told Elias over the phone that you were escaping because you’d been at risk of losing your virtue.”
As Leo’s mouth fell open, Alasdair reached for him and pushed his jaw shut with one finger. “I followed you home that night. And I waited every night after that outside your apartment, wondering why I could not stay away.”
Leo’s breathing was coming faster now, and when Alasdair took a step toward him, Vasilios said, “It seems the feeling is mutual, ómorfo mou agorí.”
“I didn’t know,” Leonidas said. “How did I not feel you?” And when heat bloomed on his cheeks, Alasdair stroked a finger down one of them before returning his attention to Vasilios.
“Page twenty-seven. It is us. The three of us. The night you fed Leonidas.”
Vasilios looked to the book once more, and when he came to the page Alasdair had mentioned, his eyes widened and he placed his palm upon the image. Stroking his fingers over the naked lines of the depiction of Leo, it was as though Vasilios was touching the real thing as opposed to an image. “What is this?”
“I am not sure. Leonidas hadn’t yet read that part the night I came to him. He was on page twenty-five, learning all about the bathhouses…”
When Vasilios’s eyes flew up to lock with his, Alasdair nodded. “Everything after that page is a snapshot in time since we have met. They are moments from our lives, Vasilios. The significant ones, from what I can gather. See for yourself.”
Vasilios began to turn the pages, and his eyes narrowed until they were nothing more than slithers of jade. As image after image was revealed, everything that had happened since the moment Leo had entered their life was recorded.
Elias attacking Thanos and kidnapping Isa.
Thanos laid out and surrounded by the Ancients, all wielding bloodied tools.
The grisly moment when they’d both saved Thanos’s life and destroyed a part of it.
And then, of course, their coming together—Leonidas, himself, and Vasilios, naked upon the altar of this very Chamber.
Then Isa with her Ancient and Elias.
And Thanos meeting Paris the night he’d run into his room.
“What is this?” Vasilios demanded as he stopped on a page and turned it around to shove in Alasdair’s direction. “Has this already happened, or is it happening now?”
Both he and Leo looked at the image on the page, and as soon as Alasdair saw it, he said, “That wasn’t there earlier. Everything after Thanos and Paris’s meeting was blank.”
“Well, it is not blank anymore, is it?” Vasilios’s tone was irate as Alasdair stared at the image in total disbelief.
He recognized the location. It was Leo’s office at the museum, the one underground in the basement. And what was happening in it, if the image was to be believed, was not anything Vasilios would have approved or gotten behind.
“Umm…” Leo started, but Vasilios’s agitation was now in full effect, and the murderous expression that had just come over his features was enough to shut even Leo up.
“Do you know where they are?” Vasilios said in a frosty tone.
“Yes,” Leo said. “That’s my office back at the museum. That must’ve been where Eton took Elias. We all worked there.”
“That is also where Thanos was attacked,” Alasdair said.
“And is now where my foolish brother is feeding the attacker,” Vasilios said from between teeth that were clenched so hard that Alasdair could hear the molars grinding. “How could he be so stupid?” Vasilios muttered, and then stormed up the stairs to his place upon the dais and shut his eyes.
That was when the entire Chamber began to vibrate and Alasdair looked to Leo, whose eyes were wide. Vasilios was furious, and the force of his wrath made the entire hall shake as he summoned Diomêdês.
AS SOON AS the summons was issued, Diomêdês knew Vasilios had found out what he was doing. The volume and power with which the demand was given was unlike anything he’d experienced from his brother before. And where most of the time he had a choice whether he wished to answer, this time he had no say in the matter, as his name entered his mind with the force of a cannon exploding.
With no time to even remove his arm from Elias’s mouth, Diomêdês’s body faded and he was inside the Chamber and before Vasilios in an instant. As soon as he took form, he brought his punctured wrist to his lips and licked at the wound to close it, and as the taste of Elias lingered he thought, What have I done?
“That is a question I would like the answer to also.”
“Was it really necessary to bring me here in such a fashion?”
Vasilios pushed on the arms of the throne he was sitting in, and, when he was standing, angled his head up to say, “It is when you are not thinking with your head, dear brother.”
Diomêdês lowered his arm, now fully healed, and asked, “What troubles you more about what just happened? That I did it? Or that I did not ask you if I could?”
“What bothers me is that you just gave your blood, linked your life, to a male who has proven he is untrustworthy on more than one occasion. Have you forgotten that he is the one who butchered Thanos and then tried to do the same with your Isadora?”
“I have not. But I also seem to recall you telling me it was smart to keep thy enemy close. That by having him linked you could summon him, know where he is, and have more accurate knowledge of his thoughts. Since Elias was the bigge
st wild card in this entire scheme, I would think you, of all people, would be commending my intelligence on the matter.”
Vasilios opened his mouth, about to say something, but Diomêdês was quick to cut him off. “How did you know? I had not even finished when you sent out the summons. I hardly think you felt his presence yet.”
Vasilios’s eyes shifted so he was looking over his shoulder, and Diomêdês turned around to see Alasdair and the blond standing side by side with a book in their hands.
“They found something when they returned to Leonidas’s apartment. A book of sorts.”
“A book?”
“Yes,” Vasilios said, coming to a stop beside him. “A book with illustrations of us within the pages. Your Elias gave it to Leonidas for his birthday, not so long ago.”
Diomêdês looked over at Vasilios. “And you think he did this to betray us once more? How can a book harm us?”
“The book has blank pages in it that seem to be filling in each time something else occurs. You, Isadora, and that male are the last entry as of now. I want you to bring him here, and I want him to tell me what this all means.”
Diomêdês shook his head. “The assembly is about to start. We should do this after. I hardly think having two new yieldings bonded to the Ancients is the smartest way to gain trust from the other council members. And we will require their trust when we explain what has befallen Eton and the threat we are up against.”
Vasilios’s hand came out then to take a full fist of Diomêdês’s shirt, and when he yanked him down so they were eye level, he said, “Do not talk to me of trust right now, brother. Get. Him. Here. I want that bastard in my line of vision until I know his angle in all of this.”
When Vasilios shoved him away, Diomêdês knew now was not the time to push him for anything. So he replied in the only way he knew would be accepted right then: “Of course, brother.”
ISADORA SAT WITH her arms wrapped around Elias as he lay there out cold. Diomêdês had just been pulled away, and the last thing he had shoved into her mind was: Watch him, Leonidas seized when he first came to after drinking from Vasilios.