Warrior Avenged

by Addison Fox

  Action.

  Constant vigilance.

  It galled Zeus that she lived in the simple dwelling and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit it was a small side benefit that it irritated him so badly.

  Petty, yes.

  But they were her feelings and she was entitled to them.

  Themis directed her thoughts back to the mirror and the woman whose visage was reflected there.

  Ilsa.

  Nemesis.

  Adrasteia.

  So many names. So many confusing roles. One woman, caught in the middle of all of it.

  Although Ilsa’s heart held no love for her, Themis’s felt quite the opposite in return. The young nymph had been snatched from her home and given a challenging existence, followed by an untenable one in Zeus’s punishment.

  While Themis admired Hades’s willingness to make right the actions of his brother, his solution smacked of far too much self-interest for her comfort.

  But Ilsa had chosen. Just because that action was steeped in desperation didn’t make it any less a choice.

  Gaze roaming across the mirror, Themis shifted her attention to Kane.

  Her proud Scorpio Warrior. He had suffered terribly at the hands of the sorcerer Emmett. Would likely suffer further, with the poison an ever-present trial to his body. Much as she’d longed to help him through the ensuing centuries, she was bound by her agreement to Zeus and the limits to how they were allowed to interfere.

  Bound by her commitment to balance.

  She’d never imagined one of her Warriors could be turned on by one of his gifts. And even though his Scorpio tattoo protected him and fought by his side, the scorpion’s venom was a constant enemy.

  An endless threat.

  The mirror winked out as Themis considered the dilemma both of them faced. There were trials and challenges ahead—obstacles to them giving themselves wholly to each other.

  Could they overcome those burdens?

  Or would the crushing power of circumstance bury them both?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ilsa’s knees quivered and her stomach twisted in anxious knots as she walked to Hades’s private chambers.

  How had it come to this? And what had possibly possessed her to pick a fight with Kane?

  Well, not a fight, exactly. But it certainly wasn’t pillow talk, either.

  And yet again, you fuck it up. Your one chance at a sexual encounter in all these months and you end it by talking about punishments and choice.

  Ilsa shook her head as she headed down the last hall to Hades’s chambers. She sure knew how to leave ’em begging for more.

  The door to the private chamber was open when she arrived. The god of the Underworld sat at a large desk, a mountain of paperwork in front of him.

  “Come in, Ilsa.”

  She moved into the room, surprised to see him signing his name to the top page on the stack. “What are you doing?”

  “Paperwork.” At her questioning gaze, he added with a smile, “Yes, even in the other realms, paperwork is a necessity. From what I’ve gathered in my discussions with my brothers, we certainly produce more than our fair share down here.” He shook his head. “Souls are serious business.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, thinking of her own damaged one. “They are.”

  “I’m sorry, my dear. Poor choice of words.” He stood, walked around the endless length of teak and motioned her toward a small library down the hall. “Persephone has set up tea service. She figured you’d find your way down here at some point.”

  Ilsa followed him down the hall, Persephone’s feminine touch evident as soon as they walked into the library. Not only was there a tea cart set up and service already laid out, but a small plate of petits fours and cookies sat next to the teapot.

  Hades shook his head. “That woman does know me.” He popped a chocolate petit four into his mouth, his eyes closing in a moment of pure bliss. “Knows me so well it’s scary.”

  Truth be told, Ilsa thought it was sort of wonderful. Amazing, actually, that someone could have a love so great—so deeply entrenched—that they’d make such small gestures.

  Simply to give the other a moment of joy.

  “We missed you at dinner.”

  “I am sorry to disappoint, but I wasn’t up for company.”

  “You could have sent word.”

  Ilsa reached for the teapot, grateful for something to occupy her hands. “I thought you’d understand. Assumed you’d figure it out when I didn’t show up.”

  “Of course we did. It doesn’t deny the need for basic courtesy.”

  Ilsa slammed the teapot against the cart. “Damn it, Hades. I had a lot on my mind. And at the top of the list”—she grabbed a teacup and handed it to him, her hands surprisingly steady as she moved the steaming liquid—“is the fact I’m missing a part of my soul. It’s not exactly breaking a nail, if you know what I mean.”

  “No, it’s not minor. Not at all.”

  “Did you deal with Alex?”

  His mouth slashed into a harsh line as he stirred his tea. “You know I can’t divulge punishment.”

  “I sort of figured I had a dispensation with this one. Especially seeing as how the little worm was the one who bored the hole.”

  Hades’s eyes shuttered with finality, yet his tone remained even. Soft, almost. “I’m sorry, but on that I can’t accommodate you. My rules are fixed.”

  “Can I ask one question, then?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Was he right? Is it irreversible?”

  Hades took a sip of his tea, his warm brown eyes locked on hers. “I believe so.”

  “But how can that be? I’ve carried souls for you for millennia. Why now? Why was this different?”

  “I suspect it’s a variety of circumstances that all coalesced into one. There were two of them. And you carried them for quite some time before delivering them to me. And they had a particular set of skills that allowed them to figure it out.”

  Anger rippled through her stomach, highlighting the gaping emptiness that sat just below her ribs on the right side of her body. She leaped up, the tea in her cup sloshing toward the floor. With deliberate movements she settled the fragile china on the tea-service cart before she ruined Persephone’s carpet. She didn’t want the soothing brew anyway.

  Whirling on Hades, she demanded, “So now it’s my fault?”

  “You jump to conclusions. I didn’t say that.”

  “And how would you have me take it?”

  “Shift your perspective. Look at this through a new lens. Perhaps this is a good thing. A good thing, indeed.”

  A harsh bark erupted from her throat, unbidden. “Good? And how, exactly, have you come to that conclusion? Is it just something to make yourself feel better?”

  The storm clouds gathered in his eyes as his brows rose. “You take liberties, Nemesis. Even for you, this is a bit much.”

  “And why’s that? You’re not the one walking around with the hole, Hades. You’re not the one who is suddenly out of a job. Or out of a life.”

  The outburst drained her, had her falling back onto the couch.

  “You have a life. I gave that to you. You’re the one who has chosen to avoid human contact, instead living in your world of vengeance and retribution.”

  “What choice did I have?”

  “Ah. There it is again, that stubborn belief you cling to.”

  “What of it?”

  Hades stared down into his cup, his voice grave when he finally replied. “Our circumstances are all unique. It is our choices that distinguish us.”

  There it was again. It was as if the entire universe conspired against her, pressing on her the idea that she must get over what had happened to her and move on.

  Nature or nurture?

  She never remembered which it was or which side she fell on, but either way, the message was the same.

  Get over your fucking circumstances.

  Rise above them, young woman, and be stro
ng!

  Be better than what is expected of you.

  “Well, then. I can see you’ve made your decision on the matter. Seeing as how I am no longer able to carry souls for you, I will take my leave of you. It’s time you began seeking a replacement for me. I hear there is a disillusioned group of nymphs in Eastern Europe. Maybe you can find one of them to give you a hand.”

  “You are always welcome here. I will always care for you.”

  Ilsa nodded, unable to respond. Unable to see past the gaping emotional wound, even larger than the physical one she carried within her life essence.

  “Before you leave, there is one other matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Yes?”

  “This matter of a life. Or the perception you don’t have one.” She nodded her assent to continue, but couldn’t stop the surprise at his next words. “Your love for the Scorpio offers you a life. A rather wonderful one, if the way you look at him is any indication.”

  “I don’t love him.”

  The benevolent father figure evaporated. In its place, a snapping, defensive ruler. “Lies don’t become you. And I won’t tolerate them in my presence.”

  “Fine. What of it? Nothing can come of my feelings. And I . . . I’ve made choices that have the potential to harm him. I can’t expose him to that. I must let him go.”

  He nodded at that, his acknowledgment of her words a revelation. Of course he knew about her bargain with Emmett. How could he not? Surely Emmett had secured a spot on Hades’s hit list quite some time ago.

  “Those we love can’t share our burdens with us if we don’t allow them to.” Hades’s words were firm, leaving no room for argument.

  It didn’t really matter as she was all out of arguments.

  With a final glance at the only security she’d known for these many long, lonely years, Ilsa turned and walked slowly for the door. Hades’s voice stopped her just before she exited.

  “Ilsa?”

  “Yes?” She didn’t turn. Wouldn’t let him see the tears already making twin paths down her cheeks.

  “While I can’t tell you the specifics on Alex, I will tell you that he’s paid for his crimes. Both to humanity as well as to you.”

  She nodded, then slipped through the door.

  It wasn’t enough.

  But at least it was something.

  He was done with waiting.

  Emmett threw the book against the wall of his study and watched as the old text crumbled at the impact.

  Fuck it.

  He knew the text forward and backward anyway. It all lived in his head. Like a god with power he wasn’t able to unleash.

  His last meeting with Enyo had bolstered him for a few days, but the delicious joy of one-upping her had abruptly vanished on the wings of impatience.

  He wanted action.

  He wanted the Warrior.

  Nemesis—or Ilsa, as she called herself, likely some dumb homage to Casablanca—thought she had one up on him, but he knew she was up to something.

  Emmett knew her better than she knew herself, most likely. Because he made it his business to know.

  The Scorpio had no doubt lured her in. The most sexually magnetic of the zodiac, that outcome was as inevitable as the sun rising tomorrow.

  It was that sexual magnetism that had done his half sister in.

  The whore.

  Emmett had made it his life’s work to understand those he wanted to capture. His Pantheon collection was a perfect example. He’d researched each and every legend, created a plan of action and then went in search of his creatures.

  The centaur, the giant, the Cyclops and the nymph had been the easiest captures. Those four already existed in nature, their basic needs forcing them out into the open. Once he’d mastered the process with the low-hanging fruit, he’d shifted gears, focusing on more difficult foes.

  The Horae and the Argonaut had been much harder, as he’d had to find a way to trap them.

  Lure them out.

  Although, even they had proven easier than he’d anticipated. The Horae was more of a natural creature than he’d originally given her credit for. And the Argonaut just wanted a battle.

  As always, immortal or not, one truism remained constant.

  Find your enemy’s weak spot and pound on it.

  And then, as he sought his next capture, the simplest joy of discovery. To find that his sister had delivered one right under his nose in the form of the man she claimed to love with wild devotion.

  It hadn’t taken much to secure the Scorpio after that.

  A few dark words spoken to his sister in her sleep. That weak mind of hers so quick to do his bidding when he planted the seeds of doubt about her large, overbearing Warrior who killed for the Medicis.

  She’d jumped in fear and acted quickly. From a woman desperately in love to a woman who scorned her lover faster than if he had the pox.

  His plan had come together so beautifully and in no time Kane Montague was his.

  And then, the greatest of pleasures.

  His dark spell, designed to separate the Warrior from his powers.

  “My brothers will find me.”

  “No, they won’t. My sister has sent them on a merry chase to the farthest corners of the globe with her mad ramblings of your whereabouts. By the time they figure out they’ve been duped, I’ll have what I need from you. They won’t even recognize you.”

  He saw the Warrior glance down at the tattoo that sat on his forearm. “I know you can communicate with that. But you need the night sky to do so. As you can see”—Emmett flung a hand with pride at his surroundings—“you’re two stories underground here. No night sky in sight.”

  The clamoring and screaming from the other cells was deafening as it echoed off the hard stone walls, but Emmett ignored it. He was preparing for his battle with the Warrior.

  Already he was imagining the Scorpio’s great power, vested within him by the goddess Themis, charging through his own veins.

  “You will not succeed.”

  “Actually, I will.”

  Emmett had left him then, to make his preparations for the final spell. The spell that would release the scorp’s powers and his immortality to him.

  What Emmett hadn’t counted on was the Scorpio’s determination and unwillingness to fail. Nor had he counted on the Warrior’s ability to port through time and space.

  It was a gift not embedded with all immortals. Emmett had learned too late that Kane not only had the gift, but could use it without limitation.

  When he’d returned to the basement, each cage stood empty, including the last. At the end of that long row of cells, Kane Montague awaited him, a small, sharp sword held aloft in his hand.

  “You miscalculated, Sorcerer.”

  “Think that if you’d like. But these”—he waved a hand at the now-empty cages—“immortals don’t matter to me as you do. Their gifts aren’t as robust—their understanding of immortality something they take for granted. But you. You received the gift. It is you who understand my longing.”

  “I know not of what you speak.”

  “Oh, surely you don’t think me that ignorant, do you? I see the flash in your eyes at the mention. You received immortality and you know the meaning of that gift.”

  Emmett approached the entrance of Kane’s cell, the glory of what he planned to do beating through his system like the finest drug. The sweetest wine. The most intense orgasm.

  “You understand the great joy of knowing your body will never age. Your years span out before you with the glory of endless life.”

  Before the Warrior could speak again, Emmett conjured the prepared words, pulling strength from all that surrounded him. The latent power of the earth surged into his feet and up into his legs. The age-old stones built into the walls sang to him, their lifetime of secrets unfolding in the power of his dark magic. Even the slight moisture that puddled in the corners of the cells, weeping from the humidity of the underground walls, sustained him as he dre
w power from the water.

  All swirled around him in a pattern growing—coalescing—into the darkest spell he’d ever performed.

  Power mine, power thine, all power rests with me.

  Power mine, power thine, take all he will ever be.

  Earth and air, water and wind,

  Become one with me, his power rescind.

  The air grew dark around them, heavy with the power he conjured from it. Dark, roiling waves suffused his frame and Emmett felt his body respond, heavy jolts of power—mental, emotional and sexual—rippling through him in tsunamilike waves.

  Lightning flashed in the tight space, sparking off the metal bars and slamming around the room in bright arcs.

  Emmett felt it all. The power of nature, building inside of him.

  Turning toward the Scorpio, he extended his hands, willing himself forward, focused on the man’s heart as the base of his power.

  Kane’s focus never wavered, his eyes steady as his body lay coiled in wait.

  With a harsh flick of his wrist, Emmett flung the raw, writhing power toward the Warrior. Kane sidestepped a sparking arc of electricity as a large scorpion unfolded from his back, shifting to stand next to him.

  “You do fear me if you release the animal,” Emmett screamed at him, the power so great, so magnificent, he saw a spectrum of colors spread out before his eyes. Deep indigoes and rich purples flared with the brightest oranges and reds.

  Power.

  In his body, outside his body, coming to life through his body.

  He saw it all.

  The only thing that didn’t brighten with color was the Warrior and his scorpion. They stood before him, dark as night, absorbing the colors that flew around them in a dizzying whirl.

  “I will have you.” Emmett flung more energy at the dark form.

  Kane parried, the heavy knife in his hand reflecting the flash of power and sending it shooting back on Emmett, its force doubled on the return trip. A scream left his lips as Emmett fell to the ground.

  What was this?

  This ability to fight off his magic?

  Fury joined the power, the two growing and expanding to cloud out everything in the room—even the joyous colors—until the only thing that remained in Emmett’s line of focus was Kane and the animal who fought by his side.