Compulsion scrapes through my mind again. Pressure, pain, and then a deep-seated desire to turn the sword on myself.
I push back hard, jarring a flinch out of Mother. There’s no sound between us, only the common thought of her trying to break me like she did once before, that dark moment when I lost all sense of myself. Eleni did, too, but she paid the heavier price.
Mother bores deeper, and I grind my teeth with effort. It turns out she wasn’t bluffing. She has plenty of power left.
Gasping, I raise my hand to my searing head, still clutching Ianthe’s pearls. The pressure and pain disappear instantly. I drop my hand, confused, and they come roaring back.
The pearls! They don’t amplify magic; they block it!
I crown myself with Ianthe’s perfect gift, and Mother’s lips pull back in a snarl.
“I get it now. And this time around, I can break you.” I cock my head to the side, looking her up and down. “Maybe I should.”
Thanks to Ianthe, I’m protected now from mental attacks, and for the first time ever, I see uncertainty flicker in Mother’s eyes. It doesn’t bring me nearly the satisfaction I thought it would.
“Do it then,” she taunts, even stepping closer in challenge.
My whole body locks up tight. Gods, I’m tempted. But in the end, I say, “I’m not a monster like you are. I won’t take away anyone’s free will.”
Her bright-green eyes seem to shutter. “Take first, or everything will be taken from you.”
I shake my head at her. What kind of warped philosophy is that? It’s like her “Love nothing, and no one can hurt you.” It’s a total perversion of natural sentiment. How did she get this way? Why didn’t she try to change?
“Don’t waste your time trying to impart your twisted wisdom.” I raise my sword and get ready to exercise free will. “Any last words?” I ask her.
The look she levels at me is scathing. “You’re the embodiment of my every mistake.”
Well then. I guess I shouldn’t have asked.
I lift my chin. “It’s a shame you never tried to see how a real family acts. You might have liked it.”
Maybe I just imagine the small flinch from Mother. Either way, it makes me hesitate as I step forward with Thanatos in my hand, and Mother starts to laugh. The sound makes my belly churn like it did when I was a child.
“I knew it,” she says. “I didn’t even bother to run.”
Holding out his hand, Griffin grinds out, “Give me the sword, Cat.”
I shake my head and then force my shoulders back and down. They keep curling up around my ears.
I can do this. I should have done it already. Minutes ago. Years before.
Steeling myself, I leap forward and swing in a hard arc.
CHAPTER 14
Mother’s eyes widen. She didn’t think I’d do it. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I would.
She jerks back enough to get thoroughly out of my reach, and I scowl. I must not have tried very hard.
“Cat…” Griffin growls. “It’s now or never.”
“I can do it!”
“You don’t have to!” he says. “I’m here. I’m here for you.”
And while I stand there, refusing to give up my sword but indecisive and stupidly torn, no matter what I just said, Mother runs away. She heads up the hill toward the burning house, getting a dozen paces from me before I even move.
Finally, I stalk after her, Thanatos a far too heavy weight in my hand for such a small sword.
She stops and turns, a splash of darkness against the bright-orange blaze. “You never could stand the heat.” Using her telekinetic magic, she picks up a flaming plank and then hurls it at me.
I duck, cursing. How could I have done this? Failed again?
Mother rains down wreckage on us from above. A smoldering board hits me in the shoulder, and I stagger, the bone jarred straight into numbness. Another one sails over my head, and I turn. Griffin dodges it, grimacing and holding his stomach. My heart lurches, and I reach for him, but something crashes down between us, showering us with sparks.
Before she can launch more fiery debris down the hill, Griffin rips the knife from his abdomen and then throws it at Mother. It lands in her shoulder instead of her heart, knocked off course by the telekinetic magic whirling all around her.
Her mouth drops open in shock. So does mine. Her magic crashes to the ground, the green cyclone disappearing and leaving everything abruptly quiet. The wound isn’t fatal, but it did stop her. For now.
And now there’s only Thanatos—and I have the sword.
Griffin beckons to me. “Give me the sword.”
I shake my head, tightening my grip on the hilt.
His eyes flick over the blade. “She’s not your responsibility alone. Her death won’t haunt my conscience.”
Like it’ll haunt mine?
I don’t move, and Griffin takes the weapon from my hand. Even injured, he’s much stronger than I am, and Thanatos slips from my grasp.
I open my mouth but say nothing. I stand there, frozen. Little Bean’s energy stirs, a tiny flutter that feels like a pat, and I wrap my arms around my middle, silent and watching as Griffin prowls forward to do my dirty work for me, one hand armed with my sword and the other trying to hold his blood in.
Something huge suddenly crashes in the forest. I whip my head around to look. Our corralled horses snort sharply at the beat of heavy hooves, and then a monster explodes from the woods.
I take a reflexive step back, my pulse surging hard. It’s the biggest horse I’ve ever seen. The equine fiend races across the meadow, its enormous strides shaking and devouring the ground. It skids to a halt near Mother and then rears, reaching terrifying heights. Its long mane snaps on the fire-hot wind, and its wild red eyes stand out like malevolent flames in a jet-black face. The beast tosses its head, staring straight at me. It looks like it can taste my fear and wants to drink it down.
Griffin turns back to me. “What is that?”
A creature straight from nightmares. It bares sharp teeth, and visceral fear punches me in the gut.
“One of the Mares of Thrace,” I answer, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. Aetos killed one on the Ice Plains years ago, and my friend wears the gigantic, pure-black pelt as a trophy cloak. Three are left. “They eat humans. Only the most powerful Magoi have ever managed to control them. Only one has ever been killed.”
“Hungry, darling?” Mother speaks to the horse, but she looks at Griffin. Her face twists in triumph. “I wonder if Hoi Polloi tastes like inferior meat.”
I snap out of my shock. Good Gods, if there was ever a time for my lightning to work. I pull hard on the threads of magic inside me and…nothing. Gods damn it!
The mare paws the ground, getting ready to charge. I start to sprint. If that monster wants to eat Griffin, it’ll have to go through me.
A deafening pop and a ground-shaking boom nearly send me crashing to my knees. Ares steps in front of me, his huge, weapon-decked frame a solid barrier between the mare and me. Persephone glides in from the right to protect Griffin, only a curved knife in her belt. She leaves it there.
I swing a wide-eyed gaze back and forth between the two Gods. “Now?” I ask, both irate and incredibly relieved.
Persephone turns to me, asking coolly, “Did you expect us sooner?”
At this point, I’m not sure I expected them at all. “You need to heal Griffin.”
Her eyes move up and down my body, taking me in. “And you, too.”
I look down at myself. I’m a mess. But Griffin is worse.
“What’s this?” Mother’s shrill question comes from where she’s still occupying the high ground with her terrifying beast.
The God of War stalks forward, and I see her eyes focus on Ares, get stuck, and then sharpen. She recognizes Thanos. Bigger. Scarier. More po
werful. But still Thanos.
Quick comprehension has never been a problem for Mother. Driving the mare with her mind, she commands the creature to get down low on its front legs and then jumps on top of the horse with the help of her uninjured arm. The mare rises, and with only a thought, Mother and the monster race away from the meadow so fast they become a dark streak in the air. I blink, and she’s gone.
I missed my chance.
Persephone slides me a sidelong glance, one perfect eyebrow raised, questioning—and patently judging.
Less subtle, Ares whirls on me. “What was that? Did I teach you nothing? You froze!”
No, I think I chose. But I keep making the wrong choice.
“What happened to the woman who survives!” Ares bellows, livid.
“She survived,” Griffin snaps, dragging himself toward me. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s sheer stubbornness keeping him upright.
“Not by much,” Ares fumes. “And no thanks to herself.”
It’s true, all true, but right now, my only concern is Griffin.
Hurrying to him, I take some of his weight against my side and lead him to Persephone. She runs a critical eye over us both but then takes out her knife and splits Griffin’s tunic up the middle, baring first his bloody midriff and then pushing his shirt off entirely. The gash looks deep, but it’s not very wide. Even Griffin can’t survive on determination alone, so the blade must not have hit anything too vital. There’s a deep-purple bruise spreading up his side from where the table struck his ribs. I don’t bother cataloging cuts and burns. They’re everywhere.
“This is deep. And there are two cracked ribs. You might want to sit,” Persephone tells him.
“Then you’d have to sit, too,” Griffin says.
She looks up from his injuries, frowning. “So?”
“A Goddess shouldn’t kneel in front of a human,” he replies stiffly.
She stares at him, unblinking. “Are you making the rules now? Should I inform Zeus?”
Griffin’s cheeks color, the splash of heat painfully obvious in his otherwise bloodless face.
“Sit,” Persephone orders, “or I’ll make Ares hold you down.”
Ares scoffs. “You won’t make Ares do anything.”
“You think I can’t?” Frost laces her magic-heavy words.
My stomach clenches, anxiety gripping it like a fist. It turns me inside out to see them fight.
Ares squares his shoulders, always ready for a confrontation. His eyes race with Olympian power and light. “You, your irritating husband, and that fleabag Cerberus all together might ha—”
“Stop arguing.” I cut through their pointless taunting, my voice like a barbed knife. “Griffin, sit.”
Ares turns to me, crossing his arms. “Oh, there you are. I thought you’d left Thalyria. Maybe went on holiday. Or took a nap.”
My eyes narrow. “Is this a game to you? You’re the God of War. Why are you even helping people who are trying to bring peace?”
Ares smiles. It’s genuine, heart-stopping, and completely frightening. “Peace might be on the horizon, but in the meantime, you’re giving me a damn good fight.” His smile fades into an expression of pure disgust. “Except for today. Today was pitiful.”
I nod. I can only agree.
“Besides, there are always Attica and Atlantis for more wars. Thalyria has seen enough. The magic is too strong here to continue like this. Someone’s bound to destroy the world.”
Someone like Mother? Or someone like me?
Ares manages to chastise my inner thoughts with a single look.
I glower back. I can think what I want. If he doesn’t like it, he can stop listening in.
Griffin grunts and then draws in a sharp breath when Persephone lays her hands on his stomach. She releases more magic, and he tenses so much his back bows. I grimace along with him. Healing is a painful process, often much more so than the original wound.
Hating his pain and knowing it’s my fault since he was protecting me, I drop down behind him and put my hands on his shoulders, helping to brace his weight and steady him against the onslaught of magic. He leans in to me, throwing his head back and looking up at the sky in silent agony.
Persephone draws her hands back, flexing her fingers discreetly. Griffin breathes deeply and then more shallowly again when she goes back to healing him. She works quickly, sinking huge amounts of magic into him. I feel her power pricking hard at my skin as it smooths out Griffin’s, knitting his flesh, erasing bruises, and mending bones. The accelerated process must hurt like a hundred burning knife wounds, but it’ll be over fast. Griffin clenches his jaw, his face bone-white.
Then it’s done, and Persephone lifts her hands from him. The tense, tightly bunched muscles in Griffin’s shoulders relax. Still holding on to him, I lean forward and kiss the slope of his neck, breathing him in.
“Thank you for jumping in front of a knife for me,” I murmur.
A grunt is his only answer, but he reaches up and grabs one of my hands. He pulls it to his mouth and kisses my palm, then holds on, keeping me curved around him.
Persephone stands. After a deep inhale, Griffin rises as well, pulling me up with him. I look him over. He’s still a sooty, bloody mess, but those stains are only war paint now.
“You’ll be sore.” Persephone inspects her healing work with a slight frown. “Eat well and rest.”
Griffin and I look around, and I can tell we’re both skeptical. The house is a burned-out ruin. We have only light traveling food.
The Goddess shrugs. “Sleep in the barn. Kill a goat. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble making a fire.”
I glance at the collapsed house. There’ll be smoldering embers for days.
Griffin nods to her. “Thank you.”
She waves a dismissive hand. Healing Griffin probably took very little out of her, but I’m still grateful and say so as well.
Persephone reaches out to me, and her hands begin to feather over my skin, light and careful. I’m covered in lacerations, puncture wounds, burns, and scrapes, and no matter how gentle she is, healing still hurts. Everywhere she touches, I ache and sting even worse than I did before, and every time I wince, hiss, or gasp, the groove between her bright-blue eyes deepens into a harder frown.
I see Selena in her as she works—the thick blonde braid, the graceful way she moves, the fathomless eyes and perfect features. Physically, Persephone is only a little different from the woman I’ve known and loved. She’s taller, more powerful, and more otherworldly in a way I never imagined, but those differences seem huge and daunting now that I know who—and what—she really is.
A pang hits me square in the chest. I miss her.
I’m still her.
The words arrive directly in my head, and I scowl. What does it take to have a private thought around here?
And you’re definitely still Cat.
There’s more wry humor than real scolding in her silent words as she steps back from me, her movements almost liquid in their shimmering fluidity. I follow her with my eyes, still somehow surprised by her innate power and light. She’s mesmerizing.
Nearly entranced, I absently whisper the fear that’s been festering under my now-healed wounds. “What if I can’t do this?” Mother tried to kill me. I didn’t kill her. I’d thought we were finally going to settle this, but the pattern just repeats itself. I can’t seem to break it.
Before Persephone can even begin to answer, Ares bursts out with an aggravated sound. His eyebrows slam down.
“I thought I raised a fighter.” His tone is sharp. It certainly cuts me.
Persephone snorts. “Raised?”
“No one else was doing it!” he snaps.
“If anyone raised her, it was her sister,” Persephone snaps back. “And then me.”
Anger seems to gather a
round Ares, weighing down the air. “Where were you? Where were any of you for the first fifteen years?”
“It wasn’t my turn!” Persephone seems to grow along with her ire, and something terrifying and dangerous flashes in her eyes. “I had to stay away. The others forced me to. The Fates made the plan, and Zeus approved it.”
I sense an epic, ground-shaking God fight coming on, and I’m not letting them do that—at least not without me.
“Why didn’t either of you just kill her?” I ask, suddenly furious as well. “Mother was right there. So were you. It could have been over. Alpha Fisa—gone!”
Persephone swings her gaze back to me, her expression abruptly cooling. “Is that really my role?” She sweeps a hand toward Ares. “Or even his?”
I glare at them both. “Should it really be mine?”
I see deep affection warring with the frustration in her eyes. She doesn’t answer.
Is that a yes? A no? She doesn’t know?
“Everything is for a reason,” Ares says cryptically.
“Oh, that’s helpful!” Little Bean picks that moment to feel like a tumbling bubble in my lower abdomen. Smart girl. She obviously agrees.
I growl. It’s loud. The air suddenly vibrates with power again, but this time, it’s mine.
Some of the most terrible moments of my life flash through my mind, and my heart starts to race. Griffin knocked down and unmoving in the middle of a maelstrom of magic and fire. Birds throwing me into a volcanic pit. Eleni—dead in the sand.
My rage grows like a storm inside me, around me. The wind begins to howl. “Give me your reasons then. Because from where I’m standing, they don’t look very compelling.”
CHAPTER 15
“Everything is for a reason,” Persephone agrees. Unlike Ares, I can tell she’s tamping down the power in her voice and all around her, maybe trying to limit her agitation. Or mine. “Everything is laid out like a map.”
“I can’t follow a map!” I never could.
“You don’t have to follow it. Just know that there are multiple roads. You alone choose the ones you take. Some lead to the same destination via different pathways. Others lead to similar or dissimilar outcomes, depending on where you turn.”
Heart on Fire Page 18