“It has been a while since we have seen each other, and I am sorry about that. Will you not speak to me?” Her soft voice implored him, as warm and mellow as a siren’s song, soothing to his ears.
Valen nodded and looked at her. He didn’t care that she’d had to stay away. She was here now and that was all that mattered to him.
She reached across, causing the long sheer sleeve of her black gown to fall back, revealing her slender pale arm, and laid her hand on his cheek. Her skin was cool against his, feather soft, but it warmed him.
“You seem troubled.” Her fine eyebrows pinched together.
“I’m not worried about myself... I’m worried about Ares.” He hated how her hand slipped from his face and she looked beyond him, her gaze unerringly locking on the location of New York thousands of miles away.
“What trouble has he gotten himself into now?” There was a hint of affection in her eyes and he didn’t like to see it there.
“Ares has a woman,” he said, not bothering to keep the spiteful sharp edge from his voice. “We’re placing bets on whether or not he’ll decide to keep her and give up his power, or give her up and keep his power.”
She frowned at him, her green eyes darkening to match the grass beneath them. “That seems rather cruel of you all. What bet have you placed?”
He looked away from her, fixing his gaze back on the rooftops of Rome. “I don’t give a fuck what he does.”
She sighed, soft as leaves rustling in a light summer breeze. “I know that is a lie. You do not have to pretend with me, not as you do with your brothers.”
Her hand cupped his cheek and applied the barest hint of pressure. He obeyed, turning to face her again, but didn’t meet her gaze. He fixed that on her other hand where it pressed into the earth. Deep golden flowers had twined around her fingers, blossoming between them, and he knew she had chosen that colour on purpose to reflect his eyes and his hair. She always did sentimental shit like that, but he couldn’t hate her for it, even when he despised that colour and the pain it brought him, reminding him of another female, one lost long ago but one he would never forget.
“Tell me what you truly think. Are you not happy that your brother may have found a woman he loves?”
Valen didn’t want to think about that. He wished he had never brought it up.
“I honestly don’t give a damn what he does. Why should I?” he snapped and shirked her touch.
She flinched away and he glanced at her, briefly meeting her emerald gaze and issuing a silent apology for shouting at her. He should have held his tongue or spoken more lightly to her.
“Because your brother would care if it was you who was in his situation.”
He dismissively waved his hand. “Do not coddle me with that cra—rubbish when you know the truth. Ares and the others don’t give a damn about me. They don’t trust me.”
She tried to touch his face again but he shuffled away from her, placing a small distance between them. She sighed again, the sound musical and light despite the growing frustration he could sense in her.
“One day, it will be you in the same situation. If you had to choose between your power and a woman, what choice would you make, Valen?”
He snorted. “My power. It’s the only thing I have left and the one thing I can trust.”
She sighed again but there was an edge to it this time, a sense of encroaching darkness. He was trying her patience. She had come here to see him and he was acting up when he should have been making the most of this precious time with her.
She laid her palm on his left cheek again and he didn’t try to evade her. “You know deep in your heart that is not true and that one day you will find the right woman.”
She moved her hand lower and her fingers caressed the line of his jaw.
He knocked her hand away from his face, hating how she always touched his scar. He couldn’t stand how the pain tore at his heart whenever she touched him there and the memories it dragged to the surface.
He growled at her. “Stop lying to me. I hate it when you lie to me.”
“I am not lying.”
Valen shot to his feet and glared down at her, his anger rising, darkness obliterating the light she inspired in him. “Did the Moirai tell you that there’s a woman out there who could love me?”
“No.”
“Then there isn’t,” he barked and she flinched and pulled her knees up to her chest. The black layers of material covering them blended into the black bodice of her dress. “I sealed my fate the night I—”
“No.” She cut him off and was before him in a flash, her eyes bright with anger. “That is not true. Do not believe it. This curse... Valen... it is not real.”
He turned away from her. “It certainly feels fucking real. The gods cursed me and I deserved it.”
“You do not deserve it and it is not real.” She rounded him, her gaze on his face, dark now and filled with fire. “The Moirai do not have that sort of power.”
He stared into her eyes, letting the silence stretch thick and heavy between them. He slowed his breathing, hoping to quell his rage, but memories bombarded him, giving him no respite, building the storm within him.
“But Zeus does,” he said and sorrow stole through him when she turned her cheek to him and gazed at the grass. “Doesn’t he?”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself.
“He’s a fickle old bastard and I hate him,” he spat and thunder rolled overhead.
He laughed and used his own power to light up the sky, and the fury curling through him grew stronger. He hated that the man he despised most in the world shared the same power as he commanded.
He edged away from her and fought for dominance over the black clouds spreading across the golden sky. Lightning arced in all directions, clashing and filling the air with harsh thunder. He raised his hand and let his power flow through him, conducting the white-purple bolts of electricity, forcing them to split and multiply until they ravaged the sky. They arced free of the clouds and slammed down into the earth, connecting it to the sky and shaking the world.
A delicate hand came to rest on his raised arm and gently lowered it.
Valen looked at her, caught the pity in her eyes, and glanced away. Thunder rumbled across the clouds. She touched the scar on his jaw and trailed her fingers down his neck, following the ragged skin.
“Do not curse at your uncle. What happened wasn’t his fault,” she whispered and it soothed the tempest inside him but didn’t quell it completely.
It spiked back up, fiercer than before, and he turned on her with a snarl.
Electricity chased along his arms and she stepped back from him, hands falling from him.
“He could have stopped it,” Valen snapped, holding her gaze, making sure she knew it. “He could have prevented her death.”
She smiled sadly and tears lined her long dark lashes.
Gods, he was a bastard.
His anger dissipated in the space of a heartbeat and he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He shoved his fingers through the longer lengths of his blond hair, dragging it back and tugging on it until it hurt, and ground his teeth against the pain beating fiercely in his chest.
“I know that,” she whispered in a hoarse voice, one that carried a weight of sorrow that cut him to the bone. “Do you think it does not haunt me? But what you did—”
“Was the right thing to do. He got what he deserved.” He clenched his jaw and held back his snarl and the darkness that rose within him again, urging him to shake the sky with his power.
“And some would say you in turn got what you deserved for daring to challenge your king.”
Valen bowed his head and then lifted his chin and fixed her with a cold glare.
“He is not my king. My father is my king.” He threw his head back and shouted at the sky, “I don’t acknowledge the existence of any other. Hades is my king!”
Lightning split the sky, the golden bolt heading straight for
him.
He laughed and held his hand up, and the bolt veered away from him, tearing up the earth on the other side of the hill and spraying mud into the warm air. He grinned and threw his hand upwards, sending his own white-purple bolt into the sky. It struck the storm cloud and exploded, stilted streams of it blazing outwards in different directions and the thunder so loud it hurt his ears.
“I’ll finish what I started one day. I’m not a whelp anymore, Zeus. You’ll pay for what you failed to do that day. You’ll pay for letting her die!”
Silence stretched around him.
Just like the bastard to ignore him.
His chest heaved, his heart pounding, and rage burned through his veins.
She sighed. “Do not taunt him.”
The ground shook. Not his uncle this time or his own power.
She turned to him, her rosy lips curving into a sad smile. “I must go.”
Valen calmed then, considered apologising to Zeus or doing whatever it took for her to stay. “Already?”
She nodded and gently swept her fingers across his cheek and he was glad she went for the other side this time, away from his scar.
“Take care,” she said, her tone soft and laced with affection that warmed him. “You should not believe that you are cursed. You may feel as though the gods cursed you so none could love you, but it is not true. Your brothers love you, as do I, and as does your father.”
He took small comfort from that, but it wasn’t enough. “A woman could never love me though.”
She smiled, her green eyes brightening and losing their sombre edge. “Time will tell on that one. There is love for all of us out there.”
He didn’t believe that for a second but he didn’t contradict her.
She was a hopeless romantic after all.
The ground rumbled and the earth split, and four huge obsidian horses erupted from it, dragging a large black chariot behind them, the gold detail on it flashing brightly in the evening light. They whinnied as they came to a halt a few metres away from the closing crevasse, and jostled and snorted, huge hooves stomping and ploughing up the grass as they tossed their heads.
It had been a long time since Valen had seen them and he wanted to approach them to see if they remembered him, but remained where he was, unwilling to risk the inevitable rejection. The black beasts were angry, their eyes red and wild as they kicked and whinnied, a reflection of their master’s feelings.
“You should go,” Valen said to her. “I’ll be just fine. I always am.”
She didn’t look as though she was going to leave and then she slipped her hand into his. He walked with her to the black and gold chariot and helped her mount it.
“Do not hate Ares.” She looked down into his eyes, hers pleading him to heed her words. “Do not distance yourself so much from your brothers.”
“I don’t.”
She smiled serenely. “I see more than you know.”
He opened his mouth to deny that too but she spoke over him.
“How long has someone been following you?” Her crimson eyebrows rose and her eyes glittered with mischief.
He couldn’t deny her. She did see more than he realised. Just how much did she know?
She took up the array of thick black leather reins and the horses snorted and kicked at the ground, impatient to be on their way. It seemed their master wanted her back and wasn’t happy about the delay.
“A storm is coming.” She held his gaze, hers as clear as glass, a sign that she was using her gift. “Nature has told me that she is a storm born of the earth, bearing the name of an angel but the skill of a devil.”
Valen frowned and the horses reared and charged, thundering across the grass and spraying clumps at him. The ground trembled and cracked, and he turned in time to see the chariot disappearing into the darkness and the earth closing behind it.
He mulled over what she had said. He hated that cryptic shit. A storm born of the earth, bearing the name of an angel and the skill of a devil? He wished she had just come out and told him what he already knew.
There was an assassin on his tail.
He would thank her for one thing though.
He hadn’t known he was dealing with a woman.
He smirked.
His dull little city was about to get interesting.
CHAPTER 19
Ares’s brothers appeared in his apartment one by one, Keras the first to arrive with Calistos in tow. Calistos landed in the middle of Ares’s CDs, cracking a few of the covers. He hadn’t thought to tidy up the mess before he had called his brothers. It had seemed more important to get Megan settled and then tell them what happened but now that they were appearing, he was having second thoughts. After everything that had happened tonight, he didn’t need his DVDs and CDs getting trashed too.
He caught the unimpressed look in his older brother’s green eyes.
Thankfully, Keras didn’t say anything about the missing amulet.
He stooped and neatly stacked the CDs spread around Calistos’s and his feet, and deposited them on the low cabinet of the entertainment centre. Ares scooped up a bunch of DVDs, trying to clear the floor of his living room before more of his brothers arrived and destroyed them.
Calistos picked up the CDs he had landed on and shot Ares an apologetic glance. He shrugged it off and looked between his brothers. Oldest and youngest. They were such a contrast too. They shared the same slight build but the similarities ended there.
It wasn’t just Keras’s short black hair versus Calistos’s long blond hair, or their eyes that made them look like opposites.
Keras always dressed impeccably, preferring his black polished leather shoes, black trousers and a neat dress shirt with his long black coat. Calistos wore a tight faded black t-shirt paired with loose black combat trousers and army boots. To Megan, Calistos probably looked no older than his late twenties. In reality, he was in his mid-seven-hundreds, and he had been a troublemaker for every one of those years.
Marek appeared, followed by Daimon and Esher. Daimon ran his black gloved fingers over the soft white spikes of his hair and then huddled into his long black coat and tugged the tall neck of his navy jumper up to cover more of his throat. He and Esher must have come from Tokyo where it was probably colder than New York right now, rather than sub-tropical Hong Kong.
Esher’s blue gaze scanned the apartment and blackened, turning as stormy as the ocean. Ares sighed and crossed the room to him, passing Marek as he righted the couch. He squeezed Esher’s shoulder through his long black coat, gaining his attention. His younger brother’s eyes cleared, lightening and losing their feral edge.
“All good here,” Ares said and Esher frowned at him, his black eyebrows pinching tightly, and then nodded and settled his hand over Ares’s where it still gripped his shoulder.
He chanced a glance at the trident on the inside of Esher’s wrist.
Blacker than midnight.
Not a good sign.
It wasn’t the first time that he had noticed Esher’s eyes and his favour mark didn’t match on an emotional level. The trident spoke of Esher’s conflict and anger, even if his eyes didn’t. His younger brother had somehow learned to control what showed in his eyes.
That wasn’t a good thing.
Esher blinked and when he opened his eyes again, they were fixed on Megan where she slept in Ares’s bed. His lips compressed into a thin line and black obliterated the blue in his irises. Ares squeezed his shoulder, barely holding back his urge to growl at the threat his brother had just tossed at a woman he cared about. Esher’s gaze roamed back to him and lightened again, but the trident on the inside of his wrist remained dark.
Ares glanced at Daimon where he stood behind Esher and found him looking at Esher’s wrist too. His white-haired brother’s pale eyes rose to meet Ares’s and the look in them told him everything. He was worried too, concerned that Esher was slowly drawing more and more into himself.
How long would it be before Esher complet
ely shut himself away in the mansion, never leaving it unless the gate or his brothers needed him?
Esher calmed and unzipped the loose black hooded jersey top he wore beneath his coat, revealing a dark grey t-shirt. The arrowhead pendant on the black thong around his neck was dark too, almost black rather than sapphire.
It wasn’t an emotional barometer like his favour mark.
This pendant warned that the moon was almost full.
No wonder Esher was so quick to lose his temper today. The moon was playing havoc with him.
Valen appeared with his usual theatrics, tearing the silence apart with a clap of thunder.
Ares’s mood took a sharp downwards turn when Megan moaned and rolled onto her side, curling up. It had taken him close to an hour of lying with her, telling her that she was safe and he would protect her, to get her to sleep. She needed her rest to recover from both her injuries and the emotional ordeal of what had happened, and part of him didn’t want her awake during this meeting. She was strong, but if she heard what he was going to tell his brothers and where that would inevitably lead the conversation, she would grow scared again.
Valen scrubbed a hand roughly over his face and through his hair, tousling the messy blond lengths. He looked like Hell and wherever he had been, it had been raining. His long black coat carried spots of water and his black t-shirt was wet, sticking to his skin.
And he smelled familiar.
Lilies.
Everyone turned on him as one and Esher lunged forwards. Ares caught his arm and held him back, offering him a sympathetic smile when Esher turned incredulous eyes on him.
Valen smirked at him. There was a faint tang of electricity in his scent too, and it wasn’t Valen’s brand.
Keras stepped forwards. “Have you been angering our uncle again?”
Valen turned on him. “Piss off and get on with it. I’ve got business to deal with in Rome.”
“The gate needs you?” Ares gently kneaded Esher’s shoulder, trying to soothe him and keep him calm.
Esher always went off the rails if their mother came to the mortal world to see Valen and didn’t linger to see anyone else. Ares had never understood why she fussed over him so much. It didn’t help matters. It only made Valen worse.
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