“What’s with the decade dialect, bro?” Nics asked mockingly as she walked up beside him.
They all seemed much more light-hearted about the situation than we were.
“Times are changing. You’ve got to roll with the punches, dude,” Paul continued with a grin. Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head, but an endearing smile flashed quickly across her face. “Seriously though, he’s going to be fine.”
“He’s right,” Nics agreed. “Those guys were probably drunk before Sam ever got to them. Even if they did wake up and remember suddenly passing out, people would just think they drank too much.”
“Besides,” Sam added, trying to convince himself and the rest of us he’d be fine. “The girl didn’t really see anything either. She wouldn’t have much to tell. Three drunk guys passed out before assaulting her—not very incriminating on my part, right?”
I was afraid to ask. Everyone was so optimistic, but the troublesome question burned in my mind.
“Does The Council have ways to tell if a Descendant uses their ability on someone?”
“Only if an agent is in the vicinity,” Nics answered with confidence. “Most Descendant abilities only work within a short distant range, so they’d have to be close, I’d imagine.”
Suddenly I felt the guilt of his choice on my conscience. If an agent had seen him, it would all be my fault. Kara had been following me.
“Yeah, and we were pretty secluded,” Sam contributed. He seemed so hopeful. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything about Kara.
So far, everything seemed to have turned out all right, although none of us could deny the lingering unease that plagued the night. It was something only time would tell.
“Well, I’m getting some food before Cearno closes up shop,” Paul said, casually moving away from the topic. “You guys want anything?”
After our order, Cearno cleaned up and got ready to head home. “Just lock up when you leave,” he said trustingly to William before heading out the door. We were out later than I expected, but none of us would be able to sleep anyway. All we could do was wait. To pass the time, we did the only thing we could—hope that it would all be fine.
The six of us had the place to ourselves. Paul and Rachel claimed the dartboard and went off into their own little world where everything was safe and good. Now and again I caught a glimpse of explosive color or the two of them casually hovering far above the ground, a site I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to.
Sam took advantage of his ability. Without ever taking a drink, he was noticeably tipsy, even through his attempt to hide it. He was clinging to Nics, and although she usually liked to provoke him, she was quiet and understanding tonight, reciprocating his need for her. They had commandeered the jukebox, dancing a drunken waltz to every song, no matter what the count.
William and I stayed at our table, nibbling on leftover pastries and sipping Cearno’s famous late night lattes.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this, William? About The Council?” I asked through the music.
He looked at me, a mix of guilt and surrender in his eyes. His gaze didn’t falter. It was honest and pointed, like a place with mirrored walls where you can’t escape yourself.
“There are six first generation Olympians. Rachel left one of them out.”
“She left out Poseidon,” I said with a nod. “I noticed that.” I picked a blueberry out of one of the muffins and popped it into my mouth, savoring the flavor.
“Only, Poseidon was never a first generation Olympian. The sixth was Ares. Sort of the same scenario as with Zeus, Poseidon was his alias.”
“So, what’s his ability?” I asked, expecting it to be worse than death.
“He can mimic any ability. Being god of war, he can challenge anyone as an equal using their own power.”
“Okay,” I said, not picking up on the significance. It didn’t seem any more threatening than the other abilities of The Council. “Why would Rachel leave that out?”
He took a deep breath before he answered. “My dad’s bloodline is Ares.”
“Your dad?” I asked in amazement.
“Yeah. I don’t take after him,” he said.
“He’s part of The Council?”
“Well, yes and no.” He rubbed the back of his neck, sliding his fingers through his hair. A nervous habit I had picked up on. His face didn’t let on any hesitation in answering my question, but it was there.
“You don’t have to explain,” I said with disappointment. He didn’t feel comfortable enough to confide in me. Why would he? It hadn’t been that long since we’d met, though it felt much longer.
“I know I don’t have to,” he agreed. I lost him in thought for a while. He took his time in remembering the details, or maybe he was just reluctant in telling me.
“My dad only told me his side of the story once,” he continued, “but even if he hadn’t, I would have learned about it in school. Not too long ago, one of the biggest civil wars amongst our people broke out. My dad . . . he started it.”
He looked up at me with worried eyes, searching for a reaction that wasn’t there.
“What happened?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t betray my surprise.
“My dad spent most of his life with them. He was part of The Council just as much as Christoph. After a while, though, he started picking up on things. Christoph sort of stepped into the lead role without anyone realizing how it had happened. He has a way about him. He’s articulate and convincing. My dad says he could persuade you to cut off your own hand and make you believe it was for the greater good. He manipulates—justifies bad things with good reasons.”
I could see the hatred billowing up inside him like a thick black smoke, dark and threatening. I’d never seen that look in his eyes before, and it made the hatred infectious. I found it easy to loath anyone who had hurt him enough to evoke such feelings.
“When things started to go really wrong,” he kept on, “my dad went to Lilia. Her ability is the most vital of them all. She is descendant of Hestia, and without her, the goddess of hearth and home, none of their abilities work. If she’s not in the vicinity of at least two of The Council members, all their powers simply cease to be. She was on the fence about Christoph, and my dad’s plan was to convince her to leave, that it was the right thing to do, the only way to put them in their place and establish a true democracy. Well, Christoph had seen it coming and already had Lilia convinced to see things his way. He told her it was her duty to stay and that without them it would be chaos, that Descendants couldn’t handle democracy. The Council is what they’ve always known.”
“So, did Christoph kick him out?” I asked.
“No,” William answered. “He left. His only other option was to try and overthrow them. There were a lot of people on my dad’s side, and they fought for years. A lot of people died, Descendants and humans, but when they got too close, defeating some of Christoph’s greatest men, it was all for nothing. He threatened that every day the war continued he would murder humans in massive attacks that he claimed could be blamed on the humans themselves. Christoph knew my dad was a good man, so his plan was to terrorize the human race until my dad gave in. Well it worked—he failed. All of that death and blood on his hands for nothing.”
“No, not for nothing,” I rallied against his bitterness. “Is that why you didn’t tell me, because you were ashamed? Because it’s not too late to—”
“No, that’s not why,” he interrupted. “I know he fought for a good cause. I just didn’t want you getting any ideas.”
“Ideas?” I asked, shocked and confused by his accusation. What kind of ideas could he possibly think I would come up with? I knew he believed I was meant to fulfill the prophecy, but did he imagine I would storm the gates, sword in hand, ready to fight? I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know,” he confessed immediately. We both sipped our lattes, completely ignoring everything around us. “I just keep having this dre
am. We are downtown, lurking in the dark corners of bars, trying to keep from being seen. Someone is after us, so we have to keep moving, and you’re really scared, but you won’t tell me why they are coming for you. Then we start running. A man chases us, and eventually he grabs my jacket, but when he turns me around, the man is my father. He says, ‘we need her to fight,’ and as soon as you see him, you leave me there and go with him willingly. And that’s it. I lose you to his war, and I can’t ever find you.”
“It’s just a dream, William,” I reassured him with a shake of my head.
“I know,” he said, dropping his gaze to his shoes.
His eyes stayed down, his lashes, thick and long, hid them from me. He was embarrassed or ashamed of his admission, but I cherished the thought that he wanted to protect me from the very idea of losing each other. It was in these moments that he stood out to me like the moon on water—a captivating light that draws the eye. The muscles in his jaw pulsed as he clenched his teeth unknowingly, his soft lips relaxed into a gentle pout. His eyebrows sank down on his brow, and I put a finger to his hard chin and lifted his face toward mine.
“Just a dream,” I said. I smiled at his little fit of worry over such a silly idea. After all that had happened with Sam, I couldn’t believe this was what was getting him down.
His lips so full and perfect, touched mine gently, smooth as rose petals. They barely met at first, as if he was afraid the full pressure of his kiss would crush me. I could feel the yearning in his touch as his fingertips found my cheek. This kiss was more than desire, more than just because we could. It was a desperate kiss that spoke the words, “I need you.”
“Get a room,” Sam yelled drunkenly from across the place.
Our shy eyes found each other, both blushing and embarrassed, and we laughed.
“Oh shut it, you drunken sailor,” William yelled back.
“Is that a challenge?”
“No,” William laughed. It was nice to see him smiling again.
“Only one way to settle it,” said Sam grabbing a couple of pool cues.
“You wanna play?” William asked me with a grin.
“I’m tired,” I confessed. “Go ahead. I’m going to bed.”
He pushed his chair away from the table. “I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m just upstairs. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Sam slurred, before tripping over a chair and fumbling to the floor.
“I think you should stay,” I said, watching Nics double over in drunken laughter.
“I probably should keep an eye on these two,” William agreed. “You sure you’ll be fine?”
I nodded. “Positive.”
He smiled and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before accepting Sam’s challenge. “You’re on.”
10.
WHEN I LEFT Cearno’s in a state of half sleep, I found the door to my apartment ajar. I grabbed the knob and pushed it open with caution, assuming I had forgotten to close it all the way.
“Hello?” I asked, just in case.
No answer. I shut the door behind me.
It wasn’t until I reached the top of the stairs that I felt something wet on my palm and realized I had blood on my hand. I made my way to the sink, looking for where I’d cut myself when I heard her.
“It’s not your blood,” Kara said from behind me, making me jump a foot in the air.
“What are you doing here, Kara?” I asked, callous and guarded. The last time I’d seen her, she’d stabbed me in the leg.
She was slumped down in the corner, sitting on the floor of my kitchen, a bloody mess.
My face registered with shock. “What happened to you?”
I waited for an answer, but she only glanced at me briefly, annoyed by the question, and continued staring off into the distance.
“Are you hurt?”
If she wasn’t going to talk to me I would find out for myself. I knelt down in front of her, looking over her blood stained hands, arms and face. She seemed fine.
“It’s not my blood either,” she said, her eyes finally meeting mine.
“Who’s is it, Kara?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” I said anxiously. “Are they okay?”
She shook her head. “No. She’s dead.”
“Who’s dead?” I coaxed.
“The girl you all thought you saved tonight. Why did you have to meddle?”
My stomach pulled in at the thought of her. She was maybe eighteen years old, so young.
“Why is she dead, Kara?”
“Why do you think? I had to kill her. He made me.”
“Oh my god,” I said in shock, taking a seat on the floor next to her. I didn’t know who he was, but if Kara was being forced to kill people, something was very wrong. An uneasy feeling settled in my chest.
I forgot she could read my thoughts until she answered my question. “He is Ryder, my boss.”
“Why did he make you kill her?”
“You and your friends. That’s why. We can’t use abilities on humans.”
Her words hurt. Sam was only trying to help.
“But she didn’t see him. She couldn’t know anything.”
“That’s not the point,” she hissed. “It’s not allowed.”
I shook my head in anger. It wasn’t the girl’s fault. She was the victim.
“What about the boys?” I asked.
“Dead. Ryder took care of them.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes as I took in the morbid reality. I stared at the dried stains that had dyed her hands and arms red.
“Here,” I said, standing to wet a rag at the sink. “You should clean yourself up. You can use the shower if you want.”
She looked at me with blank empty eyes. “You shouldn’t be nice to me.”
I handed her the towel. “Why not?”
“Because when they find out who you really are, they’ll make me come for you too, and I won’t have a choice.”
The thought was disturbing, and I tried to pretend it wasn’t true.
“There is always a choice.”
“Not for me.”
I didn’t think Kara would hurt me, not unless she had to, and if that was the case, I wanted to make sure it would never come to that. I hoped William would have a plan.
Kara laughed to herself as she got to her feet.
“What?” I asked.
“What sort of plan do you think he has? Make everyone fall in love with him?”
“What are you talking about?”
“His bloodline.” She waited for it to click. “He didn’t tell you.”
“What?”
“His bloodline is Aphrodite,” she smirked. “Goddess of love. That’s his ability. He can make people fall in love with him. Let me just say, I hope you have a better plan than that.”
As she headed for the shower, my stomach began to tie itself in knots. I felt sick and humiliated. Was I just his toy, his little puppet dancing around as he pulled the strings?
“Oh, and Elyse,” Kara said, shaking me out of my enraged internal rant. “Ryder knows about Anna.” She dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry.” With that, she closed the door to the bathroom, and the pipes groaned as she turned on the water.
Time seemed to stop, or maybe it was just my heart that ceased to continue. My body shook with fear. What did she mean Ryder knew about Anna? I needed answers.
I ran to the bathroom. “Hey!” I yelled. “I need to talk to you.”
No answer.
“Kara,” I screamed, getting more and more frantic as the seconds passed. “What do you mean he knows?” I wriggled the handle, but it was locked.
“What?” she called from inside. “Whatever you’re saying, I can’t hear you.” Her mocking tone sent me over the edge.
“Get out!” I banged on the door with hard fists. “Get out! I need to know if she’s okay.”
The sudden urge to get to Anna came over
me. I couldn’t wait for Kara. I needed to leave. No matter what she said, I couldn’t trust that it was true anyway. I had to make sure, to see for myself.
I ran down the steps and out my front door. If this guy Ryder knew about Anna, and he was the one who had the girl killed, I couldn’t take any chances. Once I was on the street, I hesitated as I passed Cearno’s, remembering William.
Another surge of betrayal convinced me to keep walking. I had to get away from him anyway. Why wouldn’t he have told me he had the power of Aphrodite if he wasn’t using it on me? I sped up slightly, and by the time I rounded the corner, I was running at full speed. I wasn’t sure whether or not he would come looking for me. I knew he’d be worried, but I didn’t care.
As I ran, I felt nothing but the aching and the brutal cold through my clothes, both sensations unrelenting and unbearable. My whole body was rigid in response to the chilling night air. My muscles pulled my skin tight, and propelled me on and away from the source of my troubles, as if I could out-run them all. I didn’t remember when the tears had started, but I could feel them now, stinging my cheeks as the wind whipped past my face.
In the dark streets of the city, I was thankful for the splashes of light the street lamps offered. The cold was biting on the skin of my arms and legs, and I wished I had brought a jacket.
When I came to the train station, I could have kissed the pavement. I sat exhausted on a bench, trying to convince myself everything would be all right. Although I had no idea how I would handle it if Anna was hurt, or worse. I had to call her.
Each ring of the phone was agony as I waited for her to pick up. Please be there. Please pick up, I pleaded in my head, but it went straight to voicemail. I tried again and again without success, and eventually had to give up. I told myself she was just sleeping. It was late.
The waiting made it all worse, as if sitting there helpless allowed everything to catch up and slam into me. The protective walls I had spent my life building came crumbling down, and I sat bare and broken, letting my rocking sobs flow freely out of me. I didn’t care if people stared. Things were safe when I was hiding, things were easy. Now, everything was breaking apart.
On top of my worry for Anna, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about William. I kept watch for him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he’d show. He didn’t, but I practiced what I’d say to him. Why? How could you lie to me? Was it all just a game? I rifled through my thoughts for the answers, a reason, a clue. What did he stand to gain from luring me into his life? Was everything a lie? Was it my fault for not seeing it? I wiped my wet cheeks and runny nose with my sleeve and tried to call Anna again. No answer.
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