2 The Judas Kiss

by Angella Graff

  He was desperate for clean clothes, a long, hot shower, and the comfort of his own home, but he knew that at the very least, they were going to be on the road for a while. He wasn’t sure when he would be able to settle down and feel at home again, so he’d have to take small comforts where he could get them.

  Feeling sated and well rested, despite the events the night before, Ben walked into the kitchen and saw Stella standing at the coffee maker, looking sleepy as she poured the black brew into her mug. She looked up, startled for a moment, when Ben walked in.

  “Sorry,” she said, giving him an embarrassed smile and pulled a mug from the cupboard down for him. “I’m just a little jumpy right now.”

  “Can’t blame you there,” he replied and grabbed the cup she offered. He poured himself coffee, stirred in some sugar, trying not to wonder where the coffee had come from. He didn’t even know who the house belonged to, and how long they were going to be staying, and he really wasn’t sure he wanted to know why it was so well stocked with the things they needed.

  Ben slipped onto one of the bar stools and looked across the kitchen at the woman he was falling for. He found her even more appealing then, sleepy, disheveled, rummaging around for a quick breakfast before they were likely to hit the road.

  But something else was nagging at him, something unpleasant and uncomfortable. He’d forgiven Stella for keeping things from him, and he even accepted her answer to keep most of it to herself, but that didn’t change the fact that not knowing a lot of her secrets might put them into further danger. Something, someone, was after her, and the thing had already managed to get past Andrew and grab her once.

  “Will you tell me who is after you?” Ben asked.

  Stella turned, her face pale and eyes wide with alarm. “Have you been contacted?”

  Ben shook his head, taking a long sip of the coffee as he watched her movements. She was clearly frightened, but Ben got the distinct impression that she wasn’t exactly frightened of the man. There was something else about the situation she wasn’t telling him. “I just thought I’d ask. Obviously we know someone is after you, and he did manage to get past the Andrew once. How safe are you with us, really?”

  “It’s something I need to handle on my own,” she said stiffly as she grabbed a box of granola out of the cupboard and poured some into a bowl. She picked at the dry clumps of oats with her fingers, her movements telling Ben that she was nervous. “It’s not about you know, the whole Mark and Judas thing. I swear.”

  Ben gave a nod, but he knew that wasn’t the whole story. It was somehow connected, even if indirectly, and something like that could put them in danger. He sighed and shook his head. His mind went back to the night before, and their love-making, and it had been wonderful. In the wake of the disaster, he’d been able to connect to another warm body, one he cared deeply about, and that mattered. But he couldn’t sit back and let her desire to keep her personal business a secret put them all in danger.

  “You’re eventually going to have to tell me,” he finally said as she sat down a few seats away from him. He noticed she was deliberately keeping her distance, and it stung, but he knew it was self-defense. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what we’re up against.”

  “I swear I can handle it, Ben,” she snapped at him.

  Ben bit back his urge to snap back at her that she was the one keeping all the secrets, and she was the one who had come to him for help. That wouldn’t help matters, and he didn’t want to fight. “I’m sure you can, but how can you expect me to be prepared when you won’t even tell me which god is aligned with you,” he finally said.

  She hesitated, giving him a long, hard stare. After a moment, she sighed, pressing her hands to the countertop and she looked down. “How familiar are you with Greek mythos?”

  “Only the basic stories I learned in school,” Ben said with a shrug. “I know now that Nike is a psychopath, and Asclepius is a sex addicted drunk, but other than that… not a lot.”

  Stella allowed a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Do you know the story of Persephone and Hades?”

  Ben frowned. “It sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “Well the legend is that Persephone, who was a demi-goddess, was kidnapped by Hades, the god of the Underworld. He took her down and forced her to marry him. Persephone’s mother, Demeter, the goddess of the seasons, went into mourning and turned the entire earth to an unending winter. Hades was eventually convinced to let Persephone go, on the condition that while in the underworld, she hadn’t consumed any food.”

  “But she did,” Ben said, with a knowing nod. “Fruit or something, right?”

  “Three pomegranate seeds,” Stella said with a shrug. “So three months out of the year, Hades took Persephone into the underworld, and for three months of the year, the earth froze with Demeter’s pain.” Stella smiled a little and let out a breath. “That’s obviously not true, not really. That’s a human story to explain the seasons, which science has now taken the liberty to explain. However, Persephone and Hades were very real, and at one time in her life, Persephone entered into a relationship with the very charming, very persuasive god. She has trouble resisting him, and even now, he seeks her out.”

  “So your goddess is Persephone or Hades?” Ben asked, feeling a little chill creep up his spine at the idea that he was learning more about Stella than he really wanted to know. It was one thing understanding that she was occasionally possessed, but it was quite another to know the real story behind it.

  “Persephone,” Stella said. There was a tone in her voice, something shielded, telling Ben that she still wasn’t being completely honest, but at least he had a name.

  Ben gulped more of his coffee, grimacing at how quickly it had grown cold, and he shook his head slightly, trying to ward off the feeling of discontentment. “And you’re sure that she’s not working with Nike? That she had nothing to do with Mark and Judas getting kidnapped.”

  Stella gave a slow nod, compelling Ben to look her in the eyes. “I swear it. Persephone is not working against you, Ben. She wouldn’t. I’d stake my life on that.”

  It was enough for Ben for now. He knew there was more, but right now, he knew enough. He knew just enough to feel comfortable moving forward, and he was ready to trust her again. She wasn’t working against him, he was certain of that. The other gods seemed to trust her as well, and Ben felt a sense of relief finally knowing that she was willing to open up to him.

  He took her hand, a gesture to try and convey that, and her smile showed that she understood. She refilled his coffee and then sat next to them, enjoying the quiet moments of the house while they could. Peaceful moments were few and far between, and Ben was ready to take them where he could. Her hand was warm in his as she squeezed his fingers, and he let himself smile.

  Not too much later, the rest of the house woke and came into the kitchen to fuel themselves before they left. Alex had apparently gone sometime during the night, Ben found out, but that was okay. That left him in charge and he was ready to take that position.

  Things were about to get turned upside down. Ben’s life was at risk, everything he’d ever known had been destroyed, and nothing would ever be the same. But he had help, he’d been able to save Abby this time, and he had Stella by his side.

  They formulated some sort of plan then, and decided to head back to San Francisco to gather forces and information on who might be willing to help them force Nike out of the earthly plane. Andrew seemed fairly certain that Alex could find someone, given enough time, and it was just a matter of location for Stella to find an exit portal. They needed to stay one step ahead of Nike, but now having all of the information they had, Ben felt they had the resources to be able to do just that.

  They didn’t take long to head out onto the road, and with Ben at the wheel, he realized that he was strong. The Greeks might want him dead, and Alex still claimed that it was because Nike wanted him alive that he was still walking the earth, but Ben didn’t f
ully believe that. Ben was strong, and he was willing to do whatever it took to end this situation, and for that reason Ben believed that he could defeat the dangerous god.

  Epilogue

  She was angry. The anger of a human was nothing like the anger of a god. The anger of a god was white-hot, encompassing. The anger of a god could burn cities to ashes, boil an ocean, burst through the crust of the earth, covering the land in lava and ash.

  That sort of anger in the human body raced through her, the pain agonizing, feeling like her mortal head was going to split open. She clutched at her temples, trying to calm herself, but it was near impossible.

  It took her men three days to track down their scent, and when they finally arrived, it was obvious that the group of misfits with her power in tow, were days ahead. She hated the feeling of being human, hated it more than anything, and that hatred was all-encompassing.

  Nothing could compare to what her form had felt like when she was corporeal, when she could reach out and touch the earth, manipulate things around her. Sex in this body was nothing compared to what it had been, the pleasures of the human flesh a ghost of what she’d experienced when she’d roamed the earth, bringing human armies to their knees by her name alone.

  The heels she wore clicked across the tile as she stormed through the house, turning the place upside down searching for some clue as to where they’d gone. The Norse ones were stronger than she was, older, and they were standing in her way. If she got what she was after, she would watch them burn, writhing on the ground, begging for death.

  “He’s taken it all!” she finally screeched as they turned over the last room. The writer had taken everything from her, everything she’d worked for. It was all for nothing now, and she knew that he wouldn’t hang on to it. He’d destroy it the moment he could.

  “I think I’ve found something!” came a hurried voice from downstairs.

  Annoyed, Nike rushed down the hall, enjoying the subtle clicking of her shoes as they echoed through the stairwell, and she found one of her followers crouched in front of the fireplace filled with ash.

  Frowning, Nike strode forward, her hand on her hip. “Found what?” she demanded, not in the mood for games.

  “This,” he said. He was a nameless god, one she didn’t care to know. They would all burn, truth be told. She didn’t need them, and she would have no use for them once this human body let go of whatever that pesky healer had pumped into her.

  She held out her hand, and the god dropped the smallest scrap of paper burnt almost completely brown, but as she turned it over in the light, she could see a word written on there. “mount” it read. She recognized the handwriting immediately.

  “Will it work?” the god asked her in is irritatingly nasal voice.

  She ignored him, staring down at the scrap of paper. Would it, though? Would it work? She was never quite sure how much of his writing she needed. She hated the human brain for slowing down her process. In her true form she would have been able to calculate a thousand scenarios and had gotten what she needed from that bastard writer in seconds. But this thing, this body she was in, the soul fighting her at every turn to regain possession of it, distracted her. It slowed her. At times it grasped her limbs, pulling her back, trying to take back its life.

  Nike would have none of it. This vessel was strong, and it was hers, and she was through playing games. She would have to destroy this Abby before long, because she was tired of being slowed down. With a sigh, her head snapped up and she shouted, “Bring in the human.”

  In the distance, Nike heard a muffled whimper and she almost laughed at the thought of the human’s distress. This wasn’t just any human, either. This was poetic justice. Nike was a war god. Nike was victory, and swift, fierce punishment was in store for those who dared defied her.

  Apollo, her brother in arms, brought in the girl. She was pretty, young and pliant, and absolutely perfect. “Olivia,” Nike purred, bending low over the woman’s face. “Olivia.”

  The woman whimpered and tried to turn her head away from Nike, but Apollo held her fast. “Now now,” he cooed in her ear.

  Nike smiled at her brother and then held out the paper with the word written on it. “They’re going to be sorry for what they’ve done,” she snapped.

  “It’s so small,” Apollo said, squinting at the burnt scrap. “Will it work?”

  Nike shoved the paper in Olivia’s face, and after a moment, there was a shift. White hot power flowed through the room, pushing past every god, and then diving into the human sitting in front of her. The woman’s eyes flared red, violently so, her head tipping back and she let out a cry.

  When she looked down, her face had gone blank, her eyes staring, and her mouth slightly ajar. Nike gave her a little kick in the shin, but instead of wincing, the woman looked up and smiled. “I’ve seen the word,” she said, her voice echoing and far away. “I’ve seen the word, and it’s time to bring the voice of God to the people.”

  Nike dropped the piece of paper into her hand bag, trying to rein in her joy. It had worked. It had worked, and the time was near. She needed a portal, and she knew just the god to turn to. She snapped her fingers and Apollo hauled Olivia to her feet. Nike cackled with triumph as the left the house and as she got into the car, she smiled at her brother and said, “Time to pay our friend Asclepius a little visit.”

  About the Author

  Angella Graff studied theology at the University of Arizona where she currently lives in Tucson, Arizona with her husband Joshua, three children, two cats, six fish, and one frisky Marimo Moss Ball. When Angella isn’t writing, she’s participating in activities with her children, going on family hikes, practicing yoga, and watching endless Doctor Who and BBC Sherlock marathons with her husband.

  Check out Angella’s current and future work at http://angellagraffbooks.wordpress.com

  About the Cover Artist

  Alexis Edwards is an artist and single mother of two based in Sierra Vista, AZ who specializes in charcoal and pencil but is happy to experiment with all mediums. She is currently working on book covers for two different series that will be published/for sale periodically. Her influences come mostly from comic books and pop art because she is part of the "nerd" subculture.

  You may contact Alexis at https://www.facebook.com/AislingArt.