The paper was dated January 18th, which was barely two weeks ago, not the actual day she died. I couldn’t read anymore without mourning or getting angry.
“Max, let it go,” Greed said. I looked down at my hands that were gripping the newspaper so tightly, I’d rip some of it down the middle. I dropped it like if it was laced with acid and ran into the first bedroom door I could find.
I’ve never had asthma, but you’d think I’d had it all my life the way I was breathing. I sucked in as much air as I possibly could, but it was useless. The more air I reached for, the more I needed. I dry heaved but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. I can’t even remember the last time I had an actual meal. And with that thought, I blacked out.
18
Nikolai
146 B.C.
Hydra Island, Greece
I’d made it to the ports just as the last boat was getting ready to debark and head to Athens. With shaky hands, I’d packed as much of my belongings as I could carry and rushed out of the island. And I’d left—without my mother. Her dead body was laying with the rest in the middle of the village. With heavy breaths, I had hurried to the nearest horse that belonged to one of the Roman soldiers I’d killed, and adjusted the saddle. I tried not to look behind where there was only death, and it was so hard. I still couldn’t believe what I had done. I’d killed all those innocent people. May the gods forgive me.
With sweat burning my eyes, I saddled the horse, dug in my heels and cracked the whip. “Yah!” I yelled and the horse galloped out of the village and I couldn’t have gotten out of there faster. My skin crawled and I could still see the tint of red on my hands. I had tried to wash it off but it was so ingrained in my skin that it stained. There was so much blood. I probably looked like a mad man, since I was covered from head to toe. The stares from everyone as I boarded the boat, made me feel guiltier. I knew I was being paranoid, but it was as if everyone knew what I’d done. I would burn in the fiery pits of hades for my sins. There was no other future for me than that.
As I settled into a corner with my belongings, I couldn’t help the feeling of eyes watching me. I looked ahead and a man sat a good distance across from me; staring at me. His brown eyes bore into me and I couldn’t look away. I tried to remember if I knew him, but my memory didn’t serve. He tilted his head and scratched his short beard as he continued to observe me.
A wave of uncomfortableness washed over me and I was able to look away. I watched as we pulled away from the port and the boat made its way toward Athens, and far away from my immoralities.
“What are you doing here, boy?” I was startled by the man who was now hovering over me.
“P-pardon?”
“What are you doing here?” he repeated slowly. I looked around, thinking he might know of what I’d done and was waiting to catch me. He was probably a soldier for the Romans.
“I’m going to Athens.”
“Why?”
“Who are you?” I asked as I eyed this man more acutely. He was asking too many questions and my nerves wouldn’t be able to handle this.
“I’m your father, now tell me why you’re going to Athens, boy?” he said calmly and I couldn’t hold back my gasp. Was he mad?
“I think you may be confused, my father—”
“Is not a god, or whatever other stories your mother has told you. Now why are you not with her?” I stared at the stranger who has just told me he was my father, in utter disbelief. Soaking in his features, I could see the similarities between us but not enough that would have made it obvious. But what took me aback was his accent. It wasn’t Grecian, or Roman. I didn’t know where to place it, but it was different.
“She’s dead.”
He was stock still, his eyes slightly wider in shock.
“The Romans, they killed her,” I said after he didn’t speak. I didn’t know why I told him, but it was the one death I wasn’t responsible for, the one death that really mattered.
“Your Shomera?”
It was my turn to be surprised. Alistair, my Shomera, was someone not many people knew of. He had been with me since a very young age, teaching me to suppress the strength I’d been cursed and gifted with. He’d recently been recruited in the Army on his last voyage to Athens. We hadn’t heard from him since.
I had been skeptical of this man and his intentions, but now, not so much. If he knew Alistair, did he know about my gifts?
“The Romans,” I said as a way of an answer. His eyes flared with an anger I’d never seen in anyone. If I wasn’t so frightened of myself, I would be scared.
“Is there anyone with you?”
“N-no.” The need to tell him what I’d done coiled in the pits of my soul but I didn’t know if he was someone I could confide in.
“What is wrong, what happened?”
“I-I killed them,” I barely whispered as I looked down at my still shaking hands. “I killed everyone in my village.”
He eyed me warily and scratched at his beard again. “Does anyone know, son?”
I shook my head at the same pace of my hands.
“Then do not worry. I will take care of you now.”
19
Maximillion
I awoke in a bed that wasn’t familiar to me, but I didn’t worry. The voices around me were recognizable. I didn’t open my eyes and pretended to be asleep as they continued to bicker.
“This is all your fault! You shouldn’t have come here, just tell him what he needs to know and go back to Vegas,” Jones said in a whispered yell.
“Me?” Nikolai chuckled. “Oh please, guardian, I wasn’t the one who just dumped a whole bunch of drama on his lap right before his mother’s funeral!”
“I had to tell him! He’d have been in the dark if he went to the funeral. He wouldn’t have been able to talk to anyone.”
“You could have told him without the damn paper! He didn’t need to see that right now,” Nikolai said furiously.
“Don’t act like you know what’s best for him, you don’t know the first thing about him,” Jones brushed him off.
“I know more than you ever will and I think that’s why you don’t like me. Be honest, I’m cramping your style because sometime in the near future, Max won’t need you anymore and you’ll be reassigned,” Nikolai said smugly.
I’d heard enough. “Are you two really fighting over me? I mean, I’m flattered, truly, but it’s kind of weird,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Hey, you okay?” Jones asked.
“I’m fine, your marital bickering woke me up,” I said dryly.
Nikolai laughed at him. “Not so fast there, Greed. You’re the chick in this marriage,” I said and the laughing stopped. They were both glaring at me once I opened my eyes but I rather have them pissed at me then at each other. “How long have I been out?”
“Not too long, only about twenty minutes or so,” Nikolai said. “We were actually coming to wake you because we have to get going. The funeral is in less than an hour.”
“Speaking of the funeral,” Jones started and looked to Nikolai, “You can’t tell Xavier you’re a Nephilim. He didn’t want us looking for any of you and we need to tell him at a more appropriate time.” I had completely forgotten about the fact we’d brought a Nephilim back home. And Greed doesn’t look like the kind of person who can keep quiet so this may be a problem.
“Sure,” he agreed with a sly smile. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had his fingers crossed.
“Right,” Jones said with narrowed eyes. “Well get dressed, Max. We leave in five.”
The sun was high and its rays beamed so strong for a winter in Florida. Not that I was expecting it to be cold, but it was still too warm to be wearing all black. I pulled at the collar of my all black button up and stretched my neck. I hadn’t seen my father yet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious—or angry.
The funeral was being held at the only cemetery just outside of town. And it seemed the whole town had come to pay their respects.
I stood by a tree about a quarter mile away—watching everyone. Jones and Nikolai had gone down and taken a seat in the front row where my father should be shortly. Many of our old classmates came up to Jones. They were probably wondering where I was and what had happened to me. Ms. AnnMarie, my mother and I’s favorite waitress at the Coffee Bean, was in the second row, sobbing loudly with Tina, my old employer. I don’t know how I can go down there. I scanned row after row of the people I grew up knowing and my eyes landed on Melanie, my ex-girlfriend. The night Abbadon paid us a visit, was the last time I’d seen her. I wrote her a letter breaking it off and mailed it to her after I left and I can only hope she received it. It wasn’t the greatest way to break up with someone, but it was the best I could do without telling her my secret. She sat next to Anthony and the rest of the football team. I felt my shoulders relax a bit—at least they hadn’t left her alone. She wore a tight, low cut black dress that made me quirk an eyebrow. That’s different. I moved past them to catch a slim figure in high heels come down the hill towards the ceremony. She walked with perfect balance as I moved up to see her bare tan legs. With each step her calf muscles twitched and you could tell she was a runner—it was pure muscle. My eyes roamed up her dark green dress that hugged every curve of her body as she made her way toward Jones. Her black hair was slicked back tightly into a neat bun and her sun-kissed face shone brightly against her olive green eyes. Angela.
Jones stood up once she stopped beside him and they exchanged a kiss on the cheek. He waited till she sat down to sit himself and introduced her to Nikolai. There was no shock, anger, nothing on her face so I can only assume he didn’t tell her who Greed was.
My hands tightened to fists at seeing her here. She had the audacity to show her face at my mother’s funeral. It only made my thirst for revenge even stronger.
Quiet footsteps sounded off in the clearing behind me and I waited for the person to reveal themselves. With my hands in the pockets of my black slacks, I leaned against the tree and my right foot crossed over my left. I was the definition of serene—at least to the untrained eye.
“The view would be better if you got closer,” my father said as he came to a stop beside me. “Everyone is waiting for us, we should get going.”
“The view is just fine from back here,” I said. “And I’m sure everyone is waiting on us. This is quite the show you’ve pulled off. Maybe you should think of a career in theater.” Through the corner of my eye, I saw his body tense. It was a low blow, but he didn’t deserve anything better. He hasn’t spoken to me since the night my mother died—and that was his choice. And don’t get me started on that newspaper article.
“When did you pick up that mouth,” he said matter-of-factly.
“The night my mother was murdered and my supposed father consoled her killer instead of his own son. That’s when,” I quipped.
“Mind your tongue, Maximillion,” he gritted through his teeth. “You do not know everything and this is neither the time nor place to discuss it.”
“It’s never the time or place to discuss anything of importance with you,” I said. And it was the truth. When I first learned of my powers and then of my origin, he never tried to help me or even just talk to me.
He turned his body to face me and whispered, “I won’t have you disrespect me anymore. If you want to stay back here and ruin this day for your mother, that’s your prerogative. But you will remember who I am, and that is your father. Nephilim or not, I brought you into this world and I can easily take you out.”
I chuckled. “Go put on a show, old man. Your audience is waiting,” I said as I turned to look at him. His black eyes were glossy with unshed tears, but the tightness of his jaw told me his pride held them back. Like father, like son.
After thirty seconds of a stare down that seemed more like thirty minutes, he turned and walked away—heading toward his guests.
Once he was a safe distance away, my body slumped against the tree and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My chest heaved rapidly and I tried to control my breathing. My eyes shut for a moment and I took in the sounds of nature around me. The light breeze, the rustle of leaves on the grass, and the chirping of a bird about a mile away. It calmed me. My tight muscles relaxed and I found my center, just as Nikolai taught me. I knew I was angry, but I didn’t expect to lash out like that.
The ceremony had commenced as the pastor addressed everyone in attendance. “For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens,” he said and I could only assume he was quoting a bible verse. My gaze travelled to the front row where my father sat next to Angela, Jones and Nikolai. An empty seat was beside my father where I was expected to be. I wanted to go and take my place, but my legs wouldn’t move. It’s not just about being around my family, but I can’t face everyone and lie about how my mother died. To know the truth and hide it from everyone is something I don’t think I’m capable of doing. Not yet at least.
I slid down against the tree I was leaning on and sat between the roots that lifted from the ground. With my legs crossed in Indian style, my palms on my knees, I closed my eyes, shut out everything, and listened to the sermon.
The service was about two hours long and there were only a few stragglers still milling around, but the majority had already left. I waited until the last person, Mrs. O’Neil, our neighbor who lived across the street, said her condolences to my father before I headed in his direction. Once she left, I reached my father who was standing with Jones and Angela. Nikolai was sitting at a nearby chair.
“So nice of you to join us, Maximillion,” Nikolai said with his elbows on his knees, holding his head up. He looked bored. “I thought this was your mother’s funeral. Shouldn’t you have, oh I don’t know, been here?!” Well, he was cranky.
I didn’t bother to entertain Greed’s ADD—at least not at this moment. My gaze was aimed at one person and one person only. Angela. I lit up my hand and lashed my fire like a whip—just as I’d learned earlier today. I didn’t think it would work so easily but it did and it felt great.
A long tendril of bluish-orange flames cracked the air and that got everyone’s attention. I strode toward her, belting out my fire like a vine around me. My father and Jones were standing in front of her in a protective stance as Nikolai stood up, knocking his chair over. He looked between me and the rest of them. He was probably confused and trying to figure out what to do. I don’t blame him, I’ve kept him in the dark with my intentions.
“Maximillion, enough!” My father yelled, “Now you are going too far. I won’t let you near her.”
Jones took a tentative step forward. “Think about this, Max. Don’t do something you’ll regret.” The weeks of stress that I had caused Jones was splayed all over his face now. He looked much older and worn out then the go happy twenty something year old he was supposed to be.
“I have thought about this, I’ve spent weeks thinking about it. About how she murdered my mother—the woman who accepted her into our family without a second thought. And look at the way she repaid her—she’s six feet underground. You can all hate me, at this point I could care less. But I will kill you Angela. As God as my witness, I will watch you burn,” I said with as much venom as I could muster. The whip shattered as my hands were fisted at my sides—trembling with anger. Damnit, I gripped.
“I will take you down myself if I have to, Maximillion. Don’t make me,” my father said and Nikolai moved to stand next to me. His knees slightly bent in a fighting stance and my father’s brows furrowed in confusion. “This isn’t your problem, young man. Please step away.”
“Unfortunately it is my problem. I won’t let you touch him, I don’t give a damn if you’re his father,” Greed said. His usual sarcasm was nowhere in sight and he was all business.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Jones and I exchanged a look. He hadn’t told my father who Nikolai was yet and the smirk that a
ppeared on his face was answer enough. He was about to tell my father exactly who he was.
Nikolai chuckled. “Who am I you ask?” He straightened and casually tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He wore a form fitting navy blue suit with a matching button up. My father sized him up as if seeing him for the first time. And with a grunt, he said, “I’m Nikolai, son of Mammon. I am Nephilim—I am Greed.”
Silence fell over the cemetery as everyone soaked in that revelation, but I could feel the tense energy that cracked in the air. Nikolai held the cockiest smile as he watched the look of horror cross over my father and Angela’s face.
“Let me explain, Xavier,” Jones tried to say, but my father wasn’t having it.
“I don’t want to hear it, Loran. How dare you disobey my orders. As his guardian you have failed! You were to keep him safe, not put him in danger! Is this why you both look like you’ve been in a bar fight?!” My father’s face was beet red with frustration. Jones eyes lowered in shame and he took his reprimand. He might not care or think he deserves it, but I didn’t.
I cut in between the two of them and squared off with my father. Mere inches away from each other, I narrowed my eyes and tried to concentrate. Angela’s closeness made me itch to reach over and strangle her. “Don’t shame him. He’s done a hell of a better job than you have or ever will. I refuse to cower away and hide for an eternity, because let’s face it, I’m not dying at eighty five. I have centuries ahead of me and I will not live in fear. You can if you’d like, but I am no longer your concern anymore. You’ve chosen your side,” my gaze travelled to Angela, who was stock still next to us.
Greed (Sins of the Fallen Book 2) Page 10