From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)

by Staci Hart

When they’d left the motel, she’d popped in her earbuds so they could both have some semblance of privacy for a while. Jon fumed from behind the wheel with his head propped on his hand, fingers tangled in his long hair. He hadn’t made eye contact with her once. His anger rolled off him and filled every molecule in the air.

  But she just didn’t know what to say to make it right. She didn’t even know what right was.

  The moon strobed between the trees as her thoughts jumbled together like a pileup, all metal and sharp points and busted glass. It was too much, too many things to deal with at once.

  “You’re far more dangerous than I ever was.”

  It was true. For so long, she’d been alone, fanning her anger and pain, blaming him for everything. For abandoning her, for loving someone else, for not saying goodbye. But it was all a lie. Everything she felt had been based on her perception, which was sideways and skewed. He’d tried to tell her, tried to make her understand, but she was too bullheaded to hear him.

  Jon had done what he believed was right at every step, and she’d only punished him for it.

  She felt like she was waking up from a coma, learning how to breathe again, dragging her heart behind her like atrophied limbs. And she couldn’t give him any part of herself until she found a way to heal.

  Jon stared at the road with his forehead tight and his heart in a pressure cooker.

  After everything they’d been through, after all he’d tried to do, and she couldn’t even have a conversation with him about herself, about them. He wasn’t asking for the world, just for her honesty. But he wanted everything she wouldn’t give, and she wanted the one thing he wouldn’t.

  He’d give her anything, everything, but he refused to be used.

  She was twisted up and mangled, but he couldn’t help her, no matter how hard he tried. No one could; she threw every attempt on the fire.

  Josie had said she didn’t know if she wanted anything from him, but he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. Maybe his feelings were one-sided. Maybe her feelings were only physical, only attraction, and she’d never really cared for him at all. His stomach burned at the thought. He could have read her wrong the whole time. How could he win her heart back if he’d never had it to begin with?

  But he knew better. He hadn’t imagined it all. She had been through so much, and he knew it, understood it. He just couldn’t be a casualty anymore, wouldn’t put his heart on the line again for her if she wasn’t even willing to try.

  It was late, though Artemis wasn’t sure of the time as she lay in her tent on her feather bed, running her hand through the sheepskin underneath her. For hours, she had been chasing sleep, staring at the roof of her tent, watching the shadows cast by a flickering candle as it burned down.

  She should have been happy that Jon and Josie had fought, that they were once again at odds. But, as Artemis had watched their hearts break, she found no joy. The game suddenly seemed cruel, and she wanted no part of it. Josie was too hurt, too confused to toy with, to keep away from a man who would do anything, be anything for her. A man whom she loved, a man who could heal her. If Jon walked away again, she would never recover. That much, Artemis knew.

  It was a life that had become her own.

  She slipped out from under her blankets and stood, feeling her rug under her bare feet and then the grass as she pushed her tent flap open and walked into the night. Her shift was long, nearly dragging the ground, illuminated by the moonlight and glowing against the black of the evening around her, as black as her hair that tumbled down her back.

  The moon called to her. She made her way through the sleeping camp with her eyes on the stars, scaling the slate boulder to stretch out on the cool stone.

  Solitude was not only something she was accustomed to, but something she sought. When she was alone, there were no expectations. Her failures could be forgotten or remembered. She could be whatever she wished, even nothing at all, a slave to her instinct as she hunted or as still as a river stone, watching as life rushed past.

  Perhaps Eleni was right. Perhaps she and Josie were too much the same. For once, Artemis’s logic and instinct failed her, and she reached the point where she wanted Josie to find peace more than she wanted to win. Josie’s pain had become her own, a mirror of her own loss, her own loneliness.

  Orion twinkled on the horizon, and her eyes followed the line of stars that made his form.

  “I have missed you more than can be imagined,” she said to the sky. “I do not know where I lost myself, but along the way, I have changed, and I wonder whether you would be proud or disappointed.”

  A lone tear fell from the corner of her eye and into her ear. She could never have him back, but she didn’t know how to let him go. Time had healed her, but the break had never been set, and what was left had healed crooked, bent and twisted from neglect.

  She was just as broken as Josie though worse. Because for Artemis, there was no escape.

  The only way out was through herself.

  She was ill equipped to handle it on her own, but there was no one to help her. She wouldn’t let them; she had pushed them all away. It was a prison she’d built without knowing, comprised of bitterness and anger, designed and imposed by herself alone—not Gaia, not Aphrodite. It was Artemis’s own doing.

  She could not change the past any easier than she could fathom how to shape her future. And, as she watched Orion twinkle against the black sky, she could not comprehend how to find herself again after being lost for so very long.

  Day 11

  “HEY, FRIEND,” PERRY SAID as she crawled under Dita’s fluffy covers that morning. “How ya feeling?”

  Dita stretched out and sighed, content. “Like fifty million bucks, Fireball and all. I slept. Again.”

  “This makes me very, very happy.” Perry smiled across her pillow at Dita.

  “Me too.” Dita gasped, fear shooting through her. “Wait, are Jon and Josie okay?”

  “They’re fine. Have a look.”

  They looked in on the players. Jon looked haggard as he drove in the early morning sun, and Josie slept against the window, her brow creased even in sleep.

  “They look terrible.” Dita felt like rotten garbage as she watched them.

  “I know.”

  “I need to come up with a plan,” Dita answered with her eyes on Jon, who was wound tight enough to shatter from the tension.

  “Okay. Well, while you’re thinking about it, let’s talk about Ares,” Perry said, all chipper and merry.

  “Ugh. You’re fucking evil.” Dita pulled a pillow over her face. “It is way too early for that.”

  Perry giggled and propped her head on her hand. “When are you going to talk to him?”

  Dita moved the pillow, hugging it against her chest. “I don’t know that either. Not until I figure out what to say. It’s so strange. I don’t know how I can just pick myself up and talk to him. I’ve only seen him once, and I flipped out. Who knows if I can maintain whatever facade of decorum I have going on when I’m face-to-face with him?” Her chest was heavy at the thought. “Maybe I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can. I promise.”

  “How can you promise that?”

  “Dita, remember where I came from. Remember who I’m married to. If I could overcome that, you can overcome this.” Perry laid her head back down and buried herself in the pillow, tucking in the end so she could see Dita. “You know this story well, but maybe it will have a new meaning for you now. If you want to hear it.”

  Dita bit her lip and nodded as she reached for Perry’s hand.

  Persephone’s eyes were distant, her mind turning back thousands of years to the time she was innocent.

  “I can still remember the way I felt that day, the warmth of the sun, the green of the grass. It was so long before I would see it again.” She took a breath. “We were picking flowers—the Oceanids, Artemis, Athena, and I—like it was any day. I wandered away from the group, chasing a trail of orange calendulas over the hi
ll when the earth began to quake, knocking us all to the ground. A chasm shaped like a lightning bolt split the earth, separating me from everyone.

  “I saw the horses first. They rose from the dark, black as pitch, their eyes glowing coals, nostrils flaring, and teeth bared. They were the living dead. Shreds of skin hung from their ribs, fire burning in the cage of their bones. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even scream.

  “The sunlight caught the obsidian inlaid in the golden chariot, nearly blinding me, the dead horses thundering by, and then I was weightless, floating, his hand on the back of my robes. It was only once I’d been deposited at his feet that I saw him, saw the hardness of his body, the coldness of his eyes, the shadows of his face, coloring him in menace and determination. And then the chariot turned, the sky disappearing as the ground closed above us, shrinking away until there was only darkness. Only then did I scream.

  “When we reached the palace, I wouldn’t leave the chariot. I was terrified, crying and cursing him, vowing that I would never lie with him, never be his. And he laughed. Dita, he laughed at me. I can still hear the sound, echoing off the walls, mocking me.”

  Dita squeezed her hand as she continued“He picked me up off the floor of the chariot, threw me over his shoulder like a doll and carried me in. I fought him every step of the way, thrashing and scratching and screaming. I was so wild, he dropped me once. I was triumphant, like I had beaten him. As if I could.

  “But he wasn’t even angry, just looked down at me with eyes like stones and said, ‘One day, you will come to love me as I love you.’

  “Love. That was the first time he told me he loved me. At the time, I couldn’t fathom his ability to feel, never mind love. I was a thing, a toy that Zeus had given him, and he treated me like I was nothing. I had no choice.”

  Perry sighed from deep in her chest.

  “I thought the underworld would be only fire and darkness, but it was beautiful. The palace was full of trees and plants I’d never seen before, bright and luminescent, some with jagged petals and sharp leaves, dangerous and lovely. The rooms were brilliant and bright, rivaling Olympus, if I’m being honest. Hades had created all of it for me, built it in the hopes that I would find beauty in my home.” She shook her head. “He knew me even then. It took me so long to see.

  “Handmaids were waiting when he locked me in our chambers, and I begged them to get me out, to take me back to my mother, to the sun, but they just smiled sadly and bathed me, dressed me in a wedding gown. They tried to soothe me, but there was no comfort to be found. Words meant nothing. And in the end, it was their hands that dragged me to the garden where he waited for me.”

  Perry’s eyes focused on nothing. Her voice was miles away. Centuries away. “The look in his eyes held me still. I didn’t speak through the ceremony, just stared ahead, numb from shock as the words were said that sealed my fate. Hades spoke his vow, looking down at me with eyes so blue and bright and full of ownership. Mine were dead with futility.

  “I remember being so cold, my hands shaking, my teeth clattering as I walked by his side to our chambers, and when we crossed the threshold of the room and the door closed behind me, I snapped. I turned and ran. He caught me without even trying and carried me to our bed, talking to me all the while. Whispering to me. Soothing me. Begging me. Trying to make me see, to understand that I was his by right, that my maidenhood was his, and taking it was the only thing that could forge our marriage and bind us. There would be no waiting. But I wouldn’t do it. I just…I couldn’t do it. So, he tied me up and took what he believed was his.

  “I know now that he tried to make it easier for me; he really did. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted me to love him. He wanted me to be pleased, thought that I would bend to him. But I hated him. I would have killed him or died trying. For years, I fantasized about it, especially after he tricked me into eating the pomegranate, imprisoning me in the underworld forever. I could never leave, and it was all his fault. I considered taking my own life. There are ways, though they are few, and I exhausted each one, preparing myself to escape my prison, my captor. But Zeus saved me. If he hadn’t granted me leave to come to Earth half of the year, I would have found a way to end it all.”

  Perry’s eyes were dark, the eyes of the girl who had been tortured and the woman who had lived through it. “How can you get through something like that? I had been kidnapped, lived in the underworld alone and lonely, so bitter and hurt. Hades locked me away, but he never forced himself on me again, didn’t even touch me until it was on my terms.

  “You remember what it was like then. None of us had a say; none of us had any rights when we married, though you and I fared better than most. Relationships then were rarely about love; they were about possession and politics, and we were trifles.

  “I would hate Hades still if he’d brutalized me, but he didn’t, not really. His only fault was that he subscribed to the notion that I didn’t get a say. It was hundreds of years before I forgave him. Hundreds of years that he waited for me, served me, loved me at a distance.

  “What I’m getting at is that, at some point, it ends. Pain isn’t forever. It’s not always. One day, it’s just behind you, and you crept past it so slowly that you didn’t even realize it. And that, my love, is how I know that you can get through it. I believe you can do anything. Including having a heart-to-heart with Ballsack Du Shrinkage.”

  A laugh burst out of Dita, though tears glistened in her eyes.

  Perry smiled, the act simple and honest. “Dita, Ares can’t hurt you, not really, and I don’t think he wants to. He’ll listen to you because he wants you, but you have to know he won’t hear a word you say. He’s not going to accept no, and there’s no way for him to make it right.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “But what can he do about it?”

  “I…I don’t know. He could kidnap me and rape me like Hades did to you.”

  “He could, but I don’t think he will. He stands to lose everything. Zeus doesn’t make promises he doesn’t intend to keep, and everyone is watching Ares. I mean, he’s stupid, but he’s got a healthy sense of self-preservation. Thing is, you can’t control his reaction, but facing him is crucial for you. You’ve figured out how to stand up, but you’re not ready to walk yet. Not until you do this.”

  “How did you move forward?”

  “I don’t know really. I mean, Hades and I lived together. I was a prisoner who had to share a bed with my jailer, eat meals with him, endure the company of the man who had stolen my life.”

  Dita looked over her friend for a moment, trying to relate herself to Perry and coming up short. “My problems seem very small.”

  Perry shook her head. “Don’t say that, Dita. I knew that Hades wouldn’t hurt me. I don’t know how, but I knew. I was damaged and angry and ruined, but I wasn’t afraid, and I never lost my sense of self. The thing that’s so stupid about all of it is that I probably would have fallen in love with him if he had courted me instead of kidnapping and imprisoning me.

  “But my point is that your fear of Ares is real and valid. I was never afraid to tell Hades how I felt about him or the situation, which was probably irresponsible—he could have done so many worse things to me—but I was only a girl. I had all the answers and no fear of consequences.”

  “Yeah, I know how that goes,” Dita said, her words soft.

  “That, you do. I think that was part of what gave me my power back. He knew how I felt because I told him, and I still do. It was the thing that allowed me to feel like I still had a voice.

  “You just need to tell Ares how you feel about everything. He’ll listen if he thinks it will get him back in your good graces. Just wing it. I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”

  Dita laughed. “That is so reassuring since I can’t even find my own ass these days.”

  “You’ll be fine. And in the meantime, do you have any big ideas on what to do with Jon and Josie?”

  Dita looked in on the players.
“I don’t know. I can’t stop Rhodes, or I’ll mess with Jon and Josie’s math on catching up with him. They’re so close. It’s only a matter of time before they’re on him, and they have to find him. I don’t know what will happen to Josie if they don’t. They look so tired. Like, life-tired. But they need to talk before they get to Rhodes.”

  “I know.”

  Jon’s Jeep rumbled down the highway, leading to a small town in Montana, and Dita noticed three things—a garage attached to the gas station, a bed-and-breakfast, and the fact that she’d seen the town before.

  She smiled. “I got it. Watch this.”

  Josie woke with a start as the Jeep shuddered to the telltale flapping of a flat tire. They were in a tiny Montana town nestled in mountains and covered in boulders and massive firs. Jon pulled gingerly into a gas station, stopping in front of the stalls of the weathered red garage adjacent to the store and pumps.

  An elderly man approached them, smiling amiably. White hair peeked out of his baseball cap, and his coveralls were spotted with grease. He waved a greeting as Jon climbed out of the Jeep.

  “Any chance you have some time to patch a tire?”

  “Sure, son. Let’s have a look.”

  As they walked around the car, Josie climbed out and stretched, stiff from sleeping in the Jeep again. She took a look around at the small main street, which was a pleasant change from the rolling dry plains and mountains they’d been driving through. They stood in a small strip built into a majestic green mountain pass with a few shops across the street, a diner, and what looked to be a log cabin bed-and-breakfast. Signs for kayaking and hiking marked the road, and Josie was surprised that they had landed in a little gem of a vacation spot, smack in the middle of nowhere.

  The two men knelt down by the tire, and the elder thumbed a nail that stuck out from between the tread.

  “That’ll be no problem to fix. Give me a couple of hours.” He stood and hitched a thumb toward the garage. “Bring her around to the first stall.”