Fates and Furies (The Sphinx Book 4)

by Raye Wagner

  Ares grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air. Shaking her, he demanded, “What did you say?”

  The room was a kaleidoscope, the images blurred, fractured, and dark. Hope gasped for air, unable to say anything without enough oxygen to form the words.

  “You’d better not be lying, beast, or I will make it so you wish for death.” He threw her to the ground, but she landed in a heap on top of Xan’s still body.

  She clung to him, still unable to see, and the coldness from the concrete floor disappeared. Bright light replaced the blackness. The smell of pine and mulch calmed her racing heart, and the resounding silence brought a wave of relief. Hope squinted and then covered her battered eye, trying to see where Ares had left them. But all thought fled when she looked down at Xan.

  His chest moving up and down was the only thing that let her know he was alive. His body was bloodied and already bruising. His left eye was swollen shut, and his nose and lips were covered in gore. Most of his shirt was saturated in his own blood.

  She scooted off of him and knelt at his side. “Xan?”

  Hope reached out to touch him but wasn’t sure if anywhere would even be safe to do so. She kept her hand out, hovering it over different parts of his body, but everywhere was so broken. His shirt was torn, but the skin over his left shoulder appeared unbroken. Gently, she wiped away the blood and then put the tips of her fingers through the fabric and rested them on his arm.

  His pale skin was warm and smooth. Even through the smeared blood, his tattoos were a vibrant contrast, and if she focused on those few inches, she could pretend he really was okay. She took the immortal weapons, still clutched in his hands, and cleaned them on her jeans before slipping one back into Xan’s sheath and the other into hers.

  Minutes passed, or maybe hours, and Hope continued her vigilant watch. Xan’s skin began to heal, the shallow lacerations closing into scabs, and then the scabs flaked off. The deeper wounds’ progress was infinitesimal.

  “Shite,” he muttered. He grabbed at the hem of his shirt, his arm flopping in the dirt. “Bloody shite. My shoulder’s dislocated.” He grunted and then grimaced. “I need you to pop it back in.”

  The words were slurred and barely intelligible through his busted mouth.

  Hope shook her head. “I don’t know how to do that.”

  She stared at him with pity and awe. How had he even survived that beating?

  “You just need to hold me hand.” He wiped at the mixture of blood and saliva running out of the corner of his mouth.

  Hope scooted next to him and slipped her hand into his. Tears welled, and she brushed her fingertips over his warm skin.

  “All right. Now, scoot back. Put your foot right here,” he said, patting his rib cage. He took several short breaths, and his face remained contorted in a grimace. “You need to slowly rotate my arm up to ninety degrees while pulling on it so you’re providing traction.” He took another couple of breaths. “It’ll pop right back in.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered as the tears dripped from her face.

  “Aw, lass. It won’t hurt me none,” he said. His left eye was swollen, his lip busted and bloody, and his cheek had stopped bleeding, but the wound was still open. “Come on now. It’ll help get rid of the pain as soon as the joint’s back in as it should be, right?”

  If it would help with the pain, she would do anything he asked. She scooted back and braced her foot on his ribs, gently at first and then with more pressure when he didn’t protest. Gradually, she inched the arm up. Seconds later, she felt the clunk as the ball of the joint slid back into place.

  Xan sighed in relief. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and wiped his lip. “I hate him.”

  Hope cleared her throat, but the lump wouldn’t go away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Xan moved, deliberately, as if testing out what still worked. As he maneuvered into a sitting position, he faced Hope. His left eye wouldn’t open, but there was a twinkle in his right. “It’s not your fault, luv.”

  She looked around for something to help him, but her pack, his pack, all of it was still in the temple of Ares. Wherever that was.

  Hope stood and turned in a circle to try to get her bearings. She and Xan were in a small clearing, too small to be a meadow as she could see the tall pine trees surrounding the grassy area. The sky was surprisingly still gray, but the clouds were higher, and there was no moisture in the air. There were no buildings she could see. No parking lot. She studied the trees and the ground but wasn’t able to find a path either.

  “Do you know where we are?” she asked. A new fear trickled over her, replacing the relief she’d felt after getting away from Ares.

  They had nothing, and they were lost.

  “No idea,” Xan said, his voice already stronger. While the blood was still fresh on his face, his lip was whole, and the swelling around his eye was almost gone, leaving only purple and yellow bruising. He rolled his shoulders back, wincing as he continued to try out his range of motion. Xan pulled off his mostly bloodied shirt and ripped up a few strips of fabric, tying them over the deepest cuts. “The bastard is getting more vicious the older he gets.”

  More vicious? He was brutal. “Why is he so cruel?”

  Xan shrugged and averted his gaze. “Why is anyone cruel?”

  Hope thought about his question as she watched him tie up the last bandage and then pull it right off. His skin had knit together without leaving a scar. He removed the other strips of his shirt and threw them in a pile. There was still bruising and discoloration, but Xan was healing really fast.

  “He didn’t use an immortal weapon on you?”

  Xan flinched. “Even Ares is not that unnecessarily brutal. He might hate me, but he’s not really trying to kill me.”

  “What is he trying to do?” What else could that have been?

  “He wants to humiliate me. Make me feel worthless.”

  Hope’s stomach turned as she absorbed Xan’s words and Ares’s purpose. That was even worse. “Why?”

  Xan bit the side of his mouth, contemplating either her question or his answer. “Why does any bully do what they do?” He scanned the clearing. “How the hell are we supposed to get off this mountain?”

  Hope wanted to say something to Xan. Something about how incredible he was. How much she appreciated him as her friend. She wanted to tell him that he meant something to her and that Ares was wrong not to see his son’s value. She wanted to say something to reassure him, because her heart hurt for him. But she had no idea what those words were. She reached out to hug him, but doubt had her stuttering in her movement.

  Xan quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are ye needing a hug?”

  Of course, it was like he could see into her soul. “I wanted to give you one, but only if you don’t mind. I mean, I don’t want—”

  He tugged her close and wrapped her in his arms.

  He smelled of sweat and blood and steel, just like his father. But there were the undertones of Xan’s body wash and the musky deodorant he used, and she pushed closer. Mostly, he smelled like Xan, and it was incredible to have him here.

  Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, salty remorse and warm relief. He could’ve been killed. She could’ve lost him. Her heart cracked, a small fissure right down the middle as she thought of her life without him. “I’m so sorry.”

  His chuckle rumbled from his chest and through her, filling her with warmth. She loved him. Not like she felt about Athan, but Xan was truly her best friend.

  He kissed the top of Hope’s head before letting go. Stepping back, he stared off in the distance and said, “Lass, he won’t kill me. He may not like me, but of all his sons, I’ve lived the longest. I’ve done the most. Some part of him, albeit small, is proud of me. That’s why he beats me. Because, in spite of him, I’ve thrived in this world of chaos. I don’t need him, and it pisses him off.”

  “You’re not mad?” How could he not be angr
y? His own father beat him. “I thought you hated him?”

  Xan bit the side of his mouth, swallowing several times before answering. He twisted his lips into a sardonic grin. “Aye, there are moments I hate him, but mostly I feel sorry for him. Which probably makes it worse. Hate is a powerful emotion, and it tears up the one who feels it. I bet Ares wishes I’d let the hate take root because then he would have power over me.” Xan touched her chin, and his features relaxed. “You would do well to let your own hatred go. I can’t help but think it’s only hurting you.”

  Hope shook her head in protest, but the motion slowed as the meaning sunk in. “You mean my dad.”

  Thinking about her father made fiery anger erupt in her heart, but the emotion was mixed with the rage she felt toward Ares. Athan had said something similar about letting go of anger for her father, but brushing him off was easy. He had a father who loved him. But Xan . . . She looked up at his battered face.

  “Aye. Your mom was happy with him.”

  His words cooled the fire in her chest. Her pride got caught there, an uncomfortable pressure that nagged at her, telling her truth existed in Xan’s words. She stared up at the sky, wishing she could just let go. But the anger was still there; her father had abandoned her. And she’s couldn’t let that go.

  The grayness overhead deepened, a sure indication the sun was setting. A sense of foreboding crawled over Hope as she realized, there was no getting off the mountain tonight. She’d never been one for camping, except in Sphinx form, and they had nothing. The darkness deepened, and the temperature continued to drop.

  “You can think about your dad later,” Xan said, misinterpreting her continued silence. “Let’s go see about collecting what we can to stay warm tonight, eh luv?” Xan grabbed her hand and pulled her to the edge of the clearing. “Do you vote for fire, or would you rather be in the woods?”

  Xan outlined their limited options for the night. In the clearing, they could have a fire, but that would mean collecting enough wood to burn. If they stayed in the woods, they could construct a lean-to and bury themselves in the brush. Either way, they’d be uncomfortable.

  “And we’ll have to trade off watch. I’m not sure where Ares dumped us, and until I can get a bearing on where we are, I don’t trust that we’re safe.”

  The risk of unknown creatures, i.e. monsters, made Hope and Xan decide fire was the safer route. At least they could use it as an additional weapon if needed.

  Hope went to collect kindling and fallen branches, while Xan dug a shallow basin in the ground to contain the fire. He went to work with dry grass, crushed leaves, a straight stick, and one that looked almost like a board. By the time Hope got back with a few dead branches, he was feeding small twigs to the licking orange flames.

  “How did you do that?” she asked, pointing at the fledgling fire.

  A smirk spread across his face. “Now, princess, don’t expect me to tell you all me secrets. This is what makes me useful so you’ll keep me around.” He sorted the wood, throwing several branches back into the woods. “Those are too green. They’ll give off too much smoke to burn.” He surveyed the sky. “We’ve got maybe another hour afore it gets too dark. See if you can get a few more like that pile there, and I’ll make us a shelter.”

  Hope trudged back to the trees to get more wood.

  The wind turned icy, and the fire only kept one side warm. Hot really. She felt like a chicken on a rotisserie as she turned on the cold, hard earth facing the fire again. Xan had insisted she take the side closest to the fire, and he lay curled at the back of their earthy shelter.

  The stars were bright, and a sliver of the moon balanced in the blackness. The air around her was warm, but if she scooted too far from the fire, the air went from icy to frigid in a single heartbeat. As she stared at the pale shard of light, her heart tripped and skipped several beats, and Hope started counting on her fingers. She kept coming up with twenty-two. Which would mean she had several days before the change. But the moon told her otherwise.

  “Do you know what day it is?” she asked Xan as she flipped back over.

  Fear tightened her chest. Something was not right. She’d seen Xan in little more than a T-shirt in the biting cold Seattle weather, and he’d never looked like this. His skin was tinged blue, and he was huddled at the back of the lean-to, shaking.

  He turned to face her, his lips a dark mottled purple. “No idea,” he answered without even opening his eyes. His words slurred together as he continued to mumble, “At th-this rate, I m-m-m-might freeze to death, so it w-w-w-won’t even m-m-m-matter.”

  She’d kept her distance from him, fearing that snuggling up to anyone but Athan would be a betrayal. But this wasn’t a matter of propriety, and she scooted closer, reaching out to touch Xan. His skin was like ice. “I thought you couldn’t freeze to death. I thought part of being immortal meant that the elements couldn’t kill you.”

  His teeth chattered, and he snapped them shut. The skin around his lips was even tinged blue. That definitely wasn’t right.

  “What’s happened to you?”

  He shook his head, but then his body started shaking.

  It wasn’t like Hope was able to stay warm in the bitter cold, but her mixed blood did have the perk of running a little warmer, and somehow even without the lion fur, she wasn’t as cold as she would be if she were human. She scooted closer to him, and he practically sighed as his icy hand rested on her arm.

  “Whatever he did to me took more energy to heal than I have. I’m starving, but there’s nothing to eat. I can’t generate enough energy to keep me warm and heal, and he knew it when he dumped us out here.”

  The coldness from his skin leeched through her shirt. Hope wrapped her arm around him, and he sunk into her.

  “I’m s-s-so cold,” he stammered.

  “What should I do?” she asked. They didn’t have a blanket. They didn’t have jackets. They didn’t have anything.

  She pulled off her shirt, grateful for her sleep camisole.

  “Put this on,” she said as she extended the shirt to him. It wouldn’t fit, but it would offer a small amount of protection from the elements. He shook his head until she pulled the shirt over him. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m cold, but the weather is affecting me differently.”

  She scooted behind him and snuggled close to his back. He would have the fire in front and her body heat from behind. Maybe that would give him a chance. Minutes passed, and his body weight grew heavier as he leaned into her more. Eventually, she helped him lie down, and she remained behind him.

  Her mind went back to counting days and staring at the moon. No matter how many times she counted, she never got close to the four weeks of the curse. And no matter how many times she tried to convince herself she was safe, the slice of light in the sky mocked her. It was exactly the sliver of a new moon. Which meant . . .

  Hope nudged Xan, not sure what to say, but knowing it could be worse if she didn’t tell him. Much worse.

  “Xan,” she whispered on the back of his neck.

  He rolled over and pulled her close. The warmth of the fire radiated to her, and the smell of campfire tickled her nose.

  “I’m sorry I was such an ass,” he mumbled, his eyes closed.

  She poked him in the chest. “I need to tell you something.”

  He sat up, his hands going to his belt for his blades. His gaze was still unfocused, but he was making a valiant effort. “What is it?”

  “Shhh.” She pushed the blade back toward his waist, back toward the sheath. “How long were we in Ares’s temple?”

  He shrugged noncommittally as his gaze focused on her. “I don’t know how to do that. I can’t keep time there and here straight.”

  She couldn’t either, which was the problem. “I’m going to change in the morning. I think. The moon looks new, so . . .”

  He sheathed the blade, and his countenance grew somber. “Do you want me to leave?”

  Where would he go? It was ridiculous. She s
houldn’t care. She didn’t even like him that way, but she was so nervous to have him see her as the Sphinx. Yes, she wanted him to leave. But not when it actually entailed him leaving. “No.”

  “Good.” He flipped her onto him, then rolled her to the side with the fire. “Let’s get some sleep. You can have a turn by the fire, now. I think my teeth will stay put.”

  The seconds ticked into minutes. Hope felt the tension leave him, and the arm that was flung over her waist became dead weight. His body was limp, and between him and the fire, it was too hot for her. She pulled out from under him and scooted to the back of the lean-to, putting him in front of the fire again.

  The sides of their shelter were pine branches with their needles still intact, and Hope stared through the broken limbs at the night sky, watching the moon travel the dark expanse, waiting for sleep to claim her even while she worried about what morning would bring.

  Searing pain awoke her, and she stifled a scream. Her legs cramped and contracted, and the seams on her jeans split down the sides. Wings tore through her thin camisole, and Hope scrambled to get out of their makeshift shelter. She crawled out on the dirt, body aching and moving slow from the cold ground. She pulled the tattered jeans away from her golden fur and struggled to remove the thin camisole from around her wings.

  She wanted to run. She wanted to hide.

  The lifting darkness from the east, streaked with pink, spread across the tops of the trees, telling her she could fly away.

  Guilt drove her to look at Xan.

  His pupils were dilated, and he scrambled to sit and then gaped at her while he ran his hand through his hair.

  The first thought she had was his coloring was better today, and then fear gripped her, shaking her by the shoulders, as Xan reached for his blade. He pulled the silver weapon out from its sheath, the ruby glinting in the rising sun.

  “Bloody Hades,” he swore. He scooted out from the lean-to and walked around the shallow fire pit until the dying embers were between them.