by Linsey Hall
“How can I help? Is it affecting all of the Amazons?”
“All of them except you,” Queen Penthesilea said. “We believe you are protected by the strength of your magic.”
“We need a cure, but we don’t know how to find one and we’re too weak to try,” Queen Hippolyta said. “There’s only one person who might know. Atlas.”
The name rang a bell. “The guy who holds up the world?”
“The titan,” Queen Penthesilea said. “Many thousands of years ago, when the titans and the gods warred, the titans lost. Atlas and Prometheus were the only titans not thrown into Tartarus.”
“Prometheus was chained up so that an eagle could eat his liver over and over again, right? And Atlas was asked to hold up the world.”
“The celestial heavens, actually,” Queen Hippolyta said. “Though his role has changed. Same for Prometheus. He got away from the eagle long ago, but he’s still a bit of a disaster from what I hear.”
Queen Penthesilea leaned forward. “Atlas helps keep the magic in the heavens from interfering with satellites. His role is vital.”
“We need help with that sort of thing?” Maximus asked.
“Just a bit,” she said. “Human progress usually moves forward without magic interfering. They exist in harmony most of the time. But when humans began sending satellites to space, they interacted negatively with the magic in the heavens. So Atlas stepped in. He used to hold up the celestial heavens; now he holds up the satellites. So to speak.”
“But he’s sick,” Queen Hippolyta said. “He tried to get a message to us, but it was garbled. It’s clear that he is deathly ill, like us. He’s retreated. Or he’s trapped. We don’t know.”
“How are you linked to Atlas?” Maximus asked. “Are all members of the Greek pantheon ill?”
“Hermes looked okay,” I said.
“We don’t think everyone is ill,” Queen Penthesilea said. “All of the Amazons are, and Atlas and Prometheus. But the gods are fine. Other mythical creatures as well. But we’ve been linked to Atlas for thousands of years. Humans know that we were the enemies of the Greek gods. Most of the time, at least. What many do not realize is that we fought on the side of the titans in their war against the gods. We should have been thrown into Tartarus with them when the war ended, but Atlas saved us. He smuggled us away by giving us a bit of his magic. We’ve been linked ever since. We’re not close to him anymore—it’s been thousands of years—so we don’t know where he is. But the ties that bind us are still there.”
“So if he’s sick and you’re sick, it’s the same thing,” Maximus said.
“We believe so,” Queen Hippolyta said. “It’s magic, not true illness. And Atlas is the only one who might have an answer. Our seer prophesied that you can help us.”
“We’re too weak to leave, anyway.” Queen Penthesilea gave a sad laugh. “Thousands of years of being the strongest, and now we are laid low.”
“Not for long.” I leaned forward and gripped her hand. “I will fix this.”
I had no idea how, but I wasn’t going to let my new family suffer like this. Another thought popped into my head. Oh, shit. “If Atlas dies from this, what happens to the satellites?”
“They fail,” Queen Hippolyta said. “The magic that is so strong in outer space will eat away at them quickly.”
Shit. A world without satellites would be chaos.
“And if they fail, it would be catastrophic,” Queen Penthesilea said. “Human militaries rely heavily on satellites. Our seer has prophesied that if all of their communications go out, one of the great militaries will interpret it as an act of war by a foreign power. A massive world war will break out as a result.”
My stomach dropped. “World War III?”
“Precisely.” Queen Hippolyta’s skin was pale at the thought.
So I wasn’t just saving the Amazons. I was saving everyone.
“Do you have any idea where I should start?” I had no idea how to find a titan.
“With Prometheus, the only other titan who is not locked up in Tartarus,” Queen Penthesilea said. “Atlas tried to get us a message, so he may have tried with Prometheus as well. Perhaps Prometheus knows more. We’ve heard he is in Istanbul. Apparently he likes to spend time at the Bosphorus bar. You may be able to find him there. He likes his drink.”
So would I, if I had memories of my liver being eaten out of me by an eagle, over and over again.
“He’s a wary bastard,” Queen Hippolyta said. “Always on edge, thinking he’ll be captured. I suggest that only one of you approach him. Keep his suspicions at bay.”
I nodded. We could do that.
Queen Penthesilea reached into her pocket and handed me an elegant business card. “If you need anything—weapons, transportation, knowledge—call us.”
My hand closed around the card.
“And be careful,” Queen Hippolyta said. “He hates our kind.”
“So he could hate me.” Great.
Queen Hippolyta smiled. “Just don’t let him know what you are.”
Chapter Six
The Bosphorus bar was a little hole in the wall, far from the business district. Here, the buildings were older, smaller. The crowd was different too. Fewer slick business suits and people yelling into their cell phones.
As we approached the bar, Maximus reached for my hand. “Be careful. I’ll have my eye on you.”
I squeezed his hand. “Thanks. Back atcha.”
“I’ll enter a few minutes after you and stick near the bar. If you need me, make a signal.”
I grinned. “It’ll probably be real obvious.” I doubted that there’d be a subtle, save me from this awkward conversation gesture. More like a knockdown, drag-out fight. “You won’t miss it.”
Though hopefully we could avoid it. All I needed was info on how to find Atlas, and I needed it fast. No fight necessary.
Near the door, I let go of Maximus’s hand. I wanted to lean up and press a kiss to his cheek, but I’d probably better not. I needed to be on my game, not on him.
“Be careful.” His soft words followed me toward the door.
I pushed it open and stepped inside the dimly lit interior. The bar was small and narrow against the left wall, with little tables crowding the rest of the space. Prometheus’s magic hit me in the chest as soon as I entered, and I nearly stumbled.
It smelled of fire and tasted of peaches, followed by the sensation of heat and the sound of an eagle screeching.
Man, titans were powerful.
This had to be an all-supernatural bar if he was letting his signature hang out like that. If he was so obsessed with hiding, why was he making such a big show of it?
Idiot.
I scanned the bar, spotting him easily. He sat in the back corner, a big man hunched over a little table. His eyes were slightly bleary and his face haggard. Clothes rumpled and shoes untied.
Ah, yep.
Drunk.
So that explained the over-the-top magical signature.
Jeez, poor guy.
Honestly, the Greek gods were bastards as far as I could tell. All Prometheus had done was give the humans fire. That hardly deserved eternal torment. He’d escaped, clearly, but the torture had left its mark.
I approached his table, debating my first words.
I didn’t get a chance to utter them.
“Who are you?” His voice was surly as I stopped in front of his table. He actually wasn’t a bad-looking guy, just rough around the edges.
“I’m Rowan.”
“What are you?”
Um…
He held up a finger. “Wait, wait. I’ve got it.” He pointed at me. “You’re a…DragonGod.”
I frowned at him. “How could you tell?”
It wasn’t something that was obvious at first glance, I was sure of it.
He shrugged. “Titan. I know stuff.”
I sank into the seat across from him, noting the strange, empty glass on the table. It was shaped roughl
y like a test tube, with a residual milky liquid clinging to the inside of the glass. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
“Like what?” He scratched his sandy blond hair, his expression making it clear that the wheels were turning very creakily inside his head.
Yeah, Prometheus had been through some stuff, all right.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I need to know where Atlas is.”
He scowled. “Why would I tell you that?”
“Well, I was hoping—”
“Another?” A feminine voice sounded from over my shoulder, and I turned.
A tall, dark-haired woman stood there, tray propped on her hip. Her brows were darkly lined and her lipstick red as she smacked away at some gum.
“Several,” Prometheus slurred.
The woman’s gaze landed on me. “And you?”
“Coffee, please.”
“They’re for her.” Prometheus pointed to me. “And several for me too.”
“How many is several?” She arched a dark brow.
“You choose, honey.”
She turned and left, a bored expression on her face.
I looked at Prometheus. “I’m not here to drink.”
“Well, you’re not here to get information, either. Because I’m”—he stabbed a finger at his chest—“not talking.”
“Are you sure about that?”
As he pondered the question for a little too long, I felt the air change in the room. The door slammed shut.
Maximus must have entered. I could feel the weight of his gaze, just briefly.
I turned slightly, my gaze landing on him. He was headed to the bar, no longer looking at me. Dang, he looked good in here. Tall and fit and towering over the little tables.
I turned back to Prometheus. “It’s sure taking a while for you to decide.”
“Decide what?”
Yeah, this dude was drunk. And maybe if I could get him a little drunker, he’d get chatty.
The waitress appeared a moment later, six test tubes of clear liquid on her tray. A pitcher of water accompanied them. She offloaded her cargo. “Call if you want anything.”
“We will, sweetie.”
Ugh, Prometheus. With the “sweeties” and “honeys.” He might look like a young man, but he sounded like an old one.
“Do you like Raki?” he asked.
“No idea.”
He poured a bit of water into each test tube, and the liquid turned a milky white. “Traditional Turkish drink. Will burn the lining right off your throat.”
“Sounds tasty.”
He shrugged. “Can be.”
He raised the glass to his mouth, and I followed suit, chugging back the white liquid. It burned like fire going down, and I coughed.
“It’s not tasty,” I sputtered.
Prometheus smacked his lips. “You might change your mind.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Give me a nice beer any day.
“Another!” Prometheus poured the water into the next two glasses, and we drank.
As I swallowed the burning stuff—thankfully keeping my coughing to a minimum this time—my fingertips found the little vial of potion in my belt that I was definitely going to need. Sober Up tonic would be my saving grace tonight, because no way I could drink Prometheus under the table. This guy was a pro. I had a feeling that being a titan helped.
As we drank the third glass of Raki, I felt Maximus’s gaze drilling into me. Probably worried about my alcohol consumption. Couldn’t blame him. I was knocking them back.
Throat on fire, I set down my glass and leaned toward Prometheus. “So, tell me about Atlas.”
“Why do you want to know about that loser?”
“He’s sick, and I need to help him.” In fact, Prometheus didn’t look so good himself, now that I was up close and really looking. I’d thought his rough look was from the alcohol, and maybe it was, but he also had the wasted muscles and prominent collarbones that the Amazons had had. He wasn’t as bad off, but I’d bet he was sick, too.
“He doesn’t need your help. He’s doing fine.” He frowned. “Though he did send that message. Couldn’t understand anything in it. But he’s probably fine.”
“I don’t think he is. I don’t think you are, either.” Whatever the cure was for this disease, I was going to have to make a batch for him. “I’ll help you if you’ll help me.”
“I’ll help you if you have another drink.” He gave me a lecherous leer.
“Oh, come on, dude. Don’t be creepy.”
He huffed and sat back.
“I’m not getting in the sack with you, even if you get me totally drunk.”
“Well, I’m not telling you anything about Atlas.”
Actually, he’d already been a little loose-lipped. My plan was a good one. “Let’s drink to it.”
He grinned and waved at the waitress. A few minutes later, she appeared with six more test tubes of Raki.
Ah, shit.
That was a lot of liquor. I liked the occasional beer every now and again, but this?
This was nuts.
But when Prometheus poured the water into the glass to turn it a milky white, I picked it up and slugged it back. I was definitely going to have to take some Sober Up soon.
“Nice to have a drinking buddy,” Prometheus slurred. “But I think you could use a word of advice.”
“Yeah?” My head was already woozy.
“Yeah. You’re a DragonGod, so you gotta act like one.”
I squinted at him. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?
“Don’t fight the magic. Embrace it.”
“But it could devour me.” I shivered. “And there’s darkness inside me.”
Yep, I was a bit more drunk than I’d realized.
“There’s darkness in everyone, kid. And the magic will devour you if you fight it.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.” He handed me another glass, and I slugged it back. My head spun a bit. “Do you mean I have to embrace the dark magic inside me?”
“I mean you have to stop hiding. Embrace your destiny—embrace all your magic. Even the stuff you’re scared of.”
I didn’t want to face the stuff I was scared of—that was the whole point of being scared of it. To then do some serious avoiding. But if all of these gods were going to give me some of their power, I had to do something to be worthy of it. And facing my fears seemed like part of that.
Maybe this was how I was meant to learn about myself and my magic. Just randomly, from drunken titans.
Not what I’d expected, but hey, what did I know?
Prometheus pushed the last glass of milky white liquid toward me and raised a brow.
I tossed it back, delighted to see him sway slightly to the right. Good. He was feeling it, too.
And I needed to not be feeling it. I stood. “Be right back.”
He just grunted. I wasn’t worried he’d leave while I was gone. Prometheus looked like he planned to have his butt nailed to that chair for a while yet. Not to mention, he probably couldn’t walk. Not with all the Raki in his system. How much had he had before I’d gotten here?
I wobbled my way between the little tables, heading for a darkened back hallway that I assumed led to the ladies’ room. Maximus was no longer at the bar, and a little stab of sadness hit me. Where had he gone?
The darkened hallway led to a tiny bathroom, where I multitasked by peeing and taking my Sober Up potion at the same time. Never say a girl doesn’t have skills.
My head began to clear immediately, but even Sober Up couldn’t fight six Rakis. I had to guess that I was down to two in my system now—mildly drunk. I definitely had enough wits about me to stay on top of Prometheus, though.
I opened the door.
A looming figure blocked the way. I bit back a scream and sent my fist flying, drunk instinct driving me.
The figure caught my fist. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Maximus. My vision had adjus
ted enough that I could see him in the slight light of the hallway, his features cast in shadow. He looked so much like a fallen angel that I wanted to peek at his back and see if he had wings.
I knew he didn’t, though, because there was just a little bit of the devil inside him.
I leaned back to look up at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Are you doing all right out there? You’re drinking like a fish.”
“I’m fine. I had some Sober Up, and now I’m only 20 percent drunk.”
“That’s not bad, but it’s not ideal.”
“It is when I’m trying to drink information out of our titan buddy.”
“Ah, that’s your plan.”
“I don’t think he’ll give it up any other way.” Boy, did Maximus smell good. Like cedar and the ocean. I leaned closer, trying to get a better whiff, then realized I looked insane. I pulled back. “Better get in there again. I think I’ve almost got him.”
“Good luck. I’ve got your back.”
He could have my anything-he-wanted.
When I reached the table where Prometheus still sat, propped up by some kind of magic or determination or just sheer drunk luck, there were six more test tubes on the table.
“Well, shit,” I muttered.
“If you’re going to try to drink me under the table, I’m going to win.”
“We’ll see about that.” I sat heavily in my chair, convinced I’d be victorious. Because I was cheating. I still had another half dose of Sober Up, in case I needed it.
I stared blearily at the glass containers of clear liquid.
I was going to need it.
Quickly, Prometheus added a bit of water to the vials, performing the cool little chemistry experiment with turning the liquid white. I didn’t know what was going on with it, but my curiosity to know more would probably die in the daylight when I opened my eyes to the inevitable hangover. Sober Up was no match for Prometheus and Raki.
I slugged back the three of them, making sure Prometheus did the same, then leaned over the table to catch Prometheus’s eye. “So, you live in Istanbul.”
“Yep.”
I asked him questions, nothing interesting, just getting him to talk about himself while the liquor went to work. When I slipped in a question about Atlas, he was so used to babbling that it slipped right out.