Ares

by Heaton, Felicity

  “No.” Valen didn’t look as though he was going to expand on that.

  Keras’s green eyes darkened a full shade and he ran a hand around the cropped back of his head. Ares had seen him do that enough times to know his brother was reining in his anger so he could deal with Valen in a calm manner.

  Sometimes, Ares wanted Keras to let rip and put Valen in his place.

  He would pay to see that.

  “Then what is so important that you want to skip this meeting?” Keras said with a sharp edge to his voice, one that betrayed his growing frustration.

  “A woman.” Valen gave a pointed glance in Megan’s direction. “What can I say? Love must be in the air.”

  The look in Valen’s golden eyes and the note in his tone said that he wasn’t serious and whoever this woman was, she was unlikely to live to see the weekend.

  Was she a daemon?

  Valen’s gaze scanned the apartment and his sandy eyebrows rose. “Shit. I thought my place was a mess. You’re supposed to be neat when you’re trying to impress a woman, Ares, not turn your home into a pigsty.”

  Ares huffed. “It wasn’t my doing.”

  “Megan throw a shit fit at you?” His brother flicked a glance at him and Ares growled.

  “No. The daemon was after her power, not mine, and he attacked her. I got to her in time but the daemon hightailed it when the sun rose. The next thing I know, someone is in my apartment and they’re taking my amulet. We need to get it back before night falls.” Ares raked his fingers through his overlong hair and hoped his brothers didn’t probe too deeply into the situation and focused on the retrieval of the amulet instead.

  “Is Megan well?” That question leaving Keras’s lips, and the concern in his eyes that backed up the softness of his tone, had shock rippling through Ares.

  After the intervention his oldest brother had staged in Tokyo, he hadn’t expected him to give a fuck about Megan’s wellbeing. If he was being honest, he had expected Keras to call him out on his relationship with her and then demand that he take her back to her apartment and end it.

  “A little shaken, and some cuts and bruises, but nothing she won’t heal.” Ares looked pointedly at each of his brothers in turn. “She’s resting so I want you all to keep it down. Got it?”

  Everyone but Keras nodded.

  His older brother frowned, the action marring his looks and reminding Ares of their father. Keras had got their father’s looks and their mother’s eyes, and every woman in the Underworld and this one wanted to bed him because of it. Unfortunately for them, Keras wasn’t interested. He had been celibate during their time in this world and Ares had a feeling he knew why.

  “If it was a daemon who took the amulet... that cannot be a good thing.” Keras’s frown hardened and Ares knew why.

  “Megan mentioned that she tried to touch my amulet before, but it repelled her. I think we were both surprised the daemon managed to take it. I didn’t think it possible.”

  Marek chimed in. “It’s entirely possible that it is because he has your power, but there is an equal probability that it is something any strong daemon or Hellspawn could do. Has anyone else had a daemon or Hellspawn attempt to take your amulet?”

  This time, everyone shook their heads.

  “None of the bastards have been crazy enough to try it,” Valen spat and then grinned. “I wish they had. I would have torn them apart rather than letting them run off with it like Ares did.”

  Ares levelled his brother with a warning glare. If he kept shooting his mouth off, Ares was going to silence him by busting his jaw with a right hook.

  Keras’s green eyes took on a decidedly cold edge as they settled on him, freezing his train of thought and sending a chill down his spine. He had the feeling he was about to get his arse handed to him.

  “It’s daylight.” Keras flicked a glance at the windows, and Ares got the impression it was more for dramatic pause than emphasising his point. “Why would a daemon come to your apartment during the day, when you would obviously be sleeping here?”

  Ares dropped his attention to his feet. “I wasn’t here at the time.”

  He didn’t need to see Keras to know that right now, his older brother would look thoroughly unimpressed verging on ready to scold him.

  Valen snorted. “Were you at your girlfriend’s house, banging her?”

  Ares growled at him and pinned him with a hard glare. “Watch your mouth.”

  A wicked smile tugged at Valen’s lips and he came around the couch, his back to the kitchen. “Answer enough. Ares got laid. About freaking time she put out and you got it on.”

  Daimon glanced away from them all, towards the windows, his pale blue eyes fixing on the world outside. “It’s raining again. It’s possible that a daemon would brave the weather to get what he wanted.”

  Ares wasn’t listening.

  He stormed towards Valen, cocked his arm and threw a hard right hook at his younger brother. It caught Valen across the jaw and sent him stumbling backwards, into the breakfast bar, but unfortunately didn’t dislocate his jaw as intended. His back slammed into the edge of the granite counter and he slumped but his elbows caught on the counter, keeping him from hitting the deck. Valen snarled and launched himself at Ares, swinging hard at the same time.

  Keras appeared between them and Valen’s fist connected with his jaw, sending their older brother’s head snapping to his right.

  Keras didn’t even flinch.

  Valen froze, fear in his eyes now as the whole room fell silent and waited.

  Keras showed absolutely no reaction at all, and not a trace of pain.

  What the hell?

  Valen’s punch hadn’t been playful. He hadn’t held back but Keras looked as though he had felt nothing.

  Ares had fought Keras in the past, back in the Underworld, and his brother had shown pain just like the rest of them.

  Keras straightened and his green eyes slid to Valen. There was a challenge in them, a dare to strike him again, almost as though he wanted it to happen.

  Their younger brother backed off a step and casually leaned against the breakfast bar.

  Keras’s gaze shifted to Ares and he frowned at the brief flicker of disappointment in it. It wasn’t directed at Ares, but towards their younger brother. Had Keras really wanted Valen to strike him again? Things must have been too quiet in Paris recently if Keras was itching for a fight and was willing to have it out with one of his own brothers to get it.

  Daimon tried again, his voice terse this time. “The weather is crappy. It would be easy for a strong daemon to move around when it’s raining like Esher’s bored out of his tree and entertaining himself.”

  That got everyone’s attention and earned him a glare from Esher.

  Ares wasn’t sure why Esher was annoyed. The world did suffer when he was bored. He had a tendency to make it rain for days, until rivers burst their banks, crops failed, and meteorologists tried desperately to explain where the mysterious weather system had come from and why it wasn’t moving.

  He had to be the only person in the world who loved it when it rained.

  Ares hated it.

  “If the daemon knew that Ares was occupied and unlikely to return quickly, he might have been willing to risk a little exposure to sunlight.” Daimon’s eyes slid to Megan and diverted away again, fixing on Ares’s motorcycle and then Ares.

  Ares silently cursed Valen for what he had said, knowing that it would have pained Daimon. He had been without physical contact for all their time in the mortal world too, had suffered with Ares as their brothers found romantic relationships and lived a normal life.

  Megan murmured in her sleep and everyone looked at her. She writhed under the red covers, kicking at them, and moaned.

  He couldn’t bear to see her suffering either, even if it was only a bad dream. She lashed out with her arms and moaned again, murmuring things in her sleep, and then thrashed around, her movements becoming frantic.

  Ares crossed the
room to her, unable to stand by and do nothing. He didn’t care that his brothers were watching him, curiosity etched on all of their faces. He sat beside her on the bed and she moaned and pushed at the covers, revealing her dark red camisole. If she pushed them much further, she would flash his brothers a glimpse of her colourful underwear.

  He pulled the covers back up to her chest but she fought them and then him.

  “Megan,” he whispered and gently took hold of her upper arms, his thumbs caressing her soft skin. “Wake up, Sweetheart.”

  She groaned and threw her head side to side, kicked her legs beneath the covers and lashed out at him with her hands, snagging his black t-shirt and yanking on it.

  “Megan,” he said, firmer this time.

  She calmed.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  She launched into his arms.

  Gods, she was trembling.

  He wrapped his arms around her, holding her head to his chest, feeling her shaking and her heart racing, and smoothed her tangled dark hair, combing it with his fingers. He pressed a long kiss to her forehead, waiting for her trembling to subside.

  “Ares,” she breathed, his name soft on her lips, stirring heat within him and calling to his protective instincts.

  He held her closer, rubbing her back with his free hand, and frowned as he found her top damp with sweat.

  “I’m here, Sweetheart,” he whispered and she twisted his t-shirt into her fingers and held on to him, her breathing still too fast for his liking. “Bad dream?”

  She nodded, her cheek brushing his chest. “I dreamed they were hurting you and I couldn’t stop them.”

  She moved, nuzzling her cheek against his chest. Bliss. Her hands settled on his biceps. Ecstasy.

  She curled into him, fitting against him perfectly and with such ease, as though she belonged in his embrace, under his protection. He kissed her forehead again and stroked her back, letting her know that he was here with her and she was safe.

  She did belong in his arms.

  She was under his protection.

  “Just a bad dream,” he murmured against her skin and she nodded and pulled back.

  She smiled into his eyes, hers dark in the low light but twinkling with affection that hit him square in the chest and made his heart pound. One of his brothers spoke. He wasn’t sure who, was too focused on Megan to hear what they said, but if it had been rude then Ares was going to kick some arse. Her smile slowly faded and her gaze slid towards the living room. Her eyes shot wide and she hid in his arms.

  “You could have told me you would have company while I slept!” She slapped his arm and even that was blissful.

  “You can join us if you’re up for it?” He brushed his lips across her hair and angled his body to block his brothers’ view of her. “Any intel you have on the enemy would be appreciated.”

  She nodded.

  “Wait here.” He released her and rose from the bed, shot his brothers a warning glare that hit the target because they all turned away and talked amongst themselves, and went into his closet.

  He rifled through his clothes until he found his navy dressing gown and gave it to Megan. She slipped her arms into it and tied the belt around her waist, and then left the bed so quickly that even he didn’t catch a glimpse of her bare legs. The terrycloth robe dwarfed her, concealing everything.

  Just the way he liked it.

  Megan was for his eyes only.

  Ares slipped his hand into hers and led her into the room. One by one, his brothers turned to face her, greeting her with smiles, some of which seemed genuine. Marek’s smile was widest, warming his brown eyes. He offered Megan the armchair but she smiled and shook her head, and remained standing beside Ares, her hand firmly holding his.

  Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he had held anyone’s hand.

  It felt good and he didn’t want to let go of her, but he didn’t want to upset any of his brothers or invite comments about his love life either. He released her hand and she glanced up at him. He wasn’t going to glance at her, but he couldn’t help himself. He dropped his gaze to hers and smiled, hoping to reassure her that everything was good between them. Her soft lips curved into a smile and then she looked at his brothers, her eyes settling the longest on Daimon and skipping Valen and Esher entirely.

  Ares really hoped she hadn’t heard anything that Valen had said about her. He looked at his younger brother, warning him without words to hold his tongue or lose it.

  “I am sorry you were pulled into this.” Keras didn’t smile. Not a trace of emotion crossed his face to back up his words. What was with his brother today?

  Megan shook her head. “I think I pulled you all into my mess, not the other way around. It’s my fault that Ares lost his power. The daemon wanted mine and Ares protected me.”

  “It isn’t your fault,” Ares chided her softly and she smiled at him again, this one punching a hole through his chest and squeezing his heart.

  “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. The end result is the same.” Marek settled himself in the armchair and kicked his sandaled feet up onto the ebony coffee table and arched, stretching like a cat about to take a nap.

  Ares swore his brother spent most of his life sleeping. He smelled of hot sunshine, an aroma that always clung to him, as if he passed every waking and sleeping second out bathing in it.

  His black linen shirt was buttoned wrongly too. He had probably been sleeping on the veranda of his house when Ares had called. Sometimes, he felt a pang of envy over the fact that Marek had been given the Seville gates to protect. No snow. Just sunshine and dry heat. Sounded better than humid summers and icy winters.

  “I know,” Ares said on a sigh. “I need to get my power and the amulet back. The gate is in danger now. I screwed up and I’ll fix it.”

  “The gate will be fine.”

  Everyone turned to stare at Keras where he stood at the end of the red couch nearest the kitchen and Valen.

  “What do you mean? The enemy has my amulet.” Ares pointed behind him towards Central Park. “He can open the gate once night falls.”

  Keras slowly shook his head, his expression turning serious. “No, they cannot. The amulets only protect us from the gatekeepers on the Underworld side.”

  “What?” Ares said in unison with his brothers.

  What Keras was saying made no sense at all.

  He stepped towards his older brother. “No. Father said that we had to have our amulet with us so the gate would open in our presence.”

  “And have any of you ever tried to open a gate without having it on you?” Keras looked at each of them in turn and they all shook their heads. “I have.”

  The room erupted, a barrage of questions flying at Keras, ranging from why he had tried such a thing and risked the wrath of the gatekeeper to why he had never told them.

  Keras ignored them all.

  “I tried it once, when we first arrived on Earth.” His calm voice rose above the din and everyone quieted and stared at him. “The amulets are not parts of the Key of Hades. Father told us that so we would use them as though they were.”

  “He lied to us?” Esher said, tone blacker than a raging storm.

  Daimon was beside him in an instant.

  “I am sure Father had a reason if he did.” Daimon hovered his gloved right hand above Esher’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly when Esher looked across at him.

  “You can think of it like that, or you could think he was using tactics,” Keras said and everyone’s attention returned to him. “We all use the amulets whenever we go to the gate, just as Father told us to. I still do it.”

  “It’s a ruse,” Marek whispered and frowned at his feet before looking up at Ares and then the others. “The daemons see us with the amulets and now they believe them to be the parts of the Key of Hades.”

  “What’s the Key of Hades?” Megan’s brow crinkled.

  Ares moved back to her and slid his arm around her shoulder, unsure how to expla
in it to her.

  “Us.” Keras’s green eyes lighted on them all, lingering longest on Ares.

  Shock rippled through the room and Ares found it hard to swallow what his older brother was telling them.

  “We are?” he said and Keras nodded.

  “Father created the gates and bound us to them by blood. He placed the power of the Key of Hades into each of us.”

  “That’s great.” Megan moved forwards, out of Ares’s embrace. “You’re all keys... but I still don’t get what this Key of Hades thing is.”

  Ares settled his arm around her shoulders again, unable to resist his need to have her close to him while in the presence of his brothers. They wouldn’t dare try anything but he wasn’t about to risk it. He wanted them all to know that Megan was his and that if anyone so much as looked at her wrongly, he would fight them. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

  His father’s blood ran in his veins and, by the gods, it made him possessive.

  He had never noticed it before meeting Megan but he couldn’t miss it now. He would fight anyone to protect what was his.

  She looked up at him, her rich brown eyes soft with affection that stole his attention, causing the whole world to fade into the background.

  “If he kisses her, I’m out of here. That shit is bound to gross me out,” Valen said, snapping him back to the present.

  He tossed a dark snarl in his younger brother’s direction and then returned his attention to his beauty.

  “The Key of Hades is the only way of opening one of the gateways to the Underworld if you’re a living soul. The dead can pass into the realm but never out again. Father is very strict about that. He never releases the dead.” He stared deep into her eyes and fought to keep his thoughts on track and off the path that kept telling him to go ahead and disgust Valen by kissing her. “The living can only move in and out if they have permission from him, and to do that they use the gates. Hellspawn and gods can travel in and out of the Underworld. Daemons are banned.”

  “So, if someone wants to go from this world to the Underworld, they need to use the gates?”