The Stone of the Eklektos

by Britney Jackson

  His voice echoed through the temple, but the man only showed one sign that he had even heard Kallias: a slight tilting of his lips. He continued to stare.

  Fed up with the strange, creepy stranger, Kallias walked toward the man, entering the shadowy part of the temple. Phoebe let out a nervous squeak but followed him anyway. Kallias expected the man to retreat back to wherever he’d been hiding, but instead, the man stood still as Kallias approached. By that time of the evening, pitch-black darkness cloaked the inner section of the temple.

  Kallias could barely see even an outline of the man’s figure when he reached him, but the man’s pale blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. He felt Phoebe’s trembling hand tug at his chiton, pleading with him to go back.

  “Tell me who you are,” Kallias snarled at the man with pale blue eyes.

  “I am Erastos,” the man said, finally, his voice as emotionless as his eyes.

  “Well, Erastos, why are you watching us?” Kallias demanded angrily.

  “I was watching you, Kallias,” Erastos said in that strange voice of his.

  Kallias frowned. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know many things about you, Kallias of Athens,” Erastos told him.

  “Oh, really?” Kallias said coldly. “Do you mind telling me how?”

  “I know things,” Erastos answered, as if that were a legitimate answer.

  Kallias frowned. “That was even vaguer than the first statement.”

  “How I know what I know is not important right now,” Erastos said.

  Kallias narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I don’t have time to waste dealing with some creepy lunatic that can’t even answer a simple question,” he muttered. He placed his hand on Phoebe’s arm, startling her out of the strange trancelike state she’d fallen into again. “Come on. Let’s get you home before it gets too late.”

  “But you cannot leave yet,” Erastos said. “I must give you something.”

  Kallias scowled at him. “No, thank you. We’re done here.”

  “It is of utmost importance that you take it,” Erastos insisted.

  “What is it?” Phoebe asked curiously.

  Erastos opened his hand, revealing the thing he had been holding in his fist. At first, it looked like a rolled up cloth, but then, Erastos unrolled the cloth with his other hand, revealing a strange, blood-red stone, unlike anything Kallias or Phoebe had ever seen before. The stone looked large and heavy, and jagged edges of the stone jutted out in all directions. “You need to take this, Kallias.”

  Kallias frowned at the strange priest. “Why?”

  Erastos stepped forward and held the stone toward him, wordlessly insisting that Kallias take it out of his hand. Kallias picked up the stone, his brows furrowing, and examined it, carefully turning the weighty stone in his hand. He squinted as he noticed a tiny inscription carved into the stone. In Greek, it read: εκλεκτός, or Eklektos, which, translated into English, could have meant chosen, exquisite, selected, or fated. “Why does it say ‘Eklektos?’” Kallias asked Erastos.

  “Maybe the stone was chosen for something,” Phoebe muttered, leaning over to look at it, “although I can’t imagine what it was chosen for. It’s very ugly.”

  “It says, ‘Eklektos,’ because it belongs to the Eklektos,” Erastos stated.

  Kallias scowled at him. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

  “It means that it belongs to a person called the Eklektos,” Erastos said.

  “Okay,” Kallias said irritably. “So, what does that have to do with me?”

  “You are the one who must protect the stone so that you can deliver it to the Eklektos when she comes under your protection,” Erastos explained.

  “I honestly have no idea what you are talking about,” Kallias told him.

  “The Eklektos will become an important person in your life, and you will play an important role in hers,” Erastos added. “When the time comes, she will need the Stone of the Eklektos, the Stone that you hold in your hand right now. You must protect it until the time comes, and then, you must give it to her.”

  Kallias blinked tiredly. “To whom?”

  “The Eklektos,” Erastos said, frowning. “I explained this already.”

  “No,” Kallias said irritably. “I am asking you: Who is the Eklektos?”

  “Her name is irrelevant and unimportant at this time. She does not exist yet, but when she does, your lives will intersect,” Erastos explained.

  Kallias rolled his eyes. “Wow, you are obviously out of your mind. I don’t know how you haven’t gotten kicked out of the temple,” he muttered. He held out the Stone. “Here. Take your stone back. Phoebe and I are going home now.”

  Erastos shook his head firmly, but his eyes remained cold and unfeeling. “You are not listening to me, Kallias of Athens. You must take the Stone of the Eklektos and protect it until it can pass from your hands to the hands of the Eklektos herself. The Stone of the Eklektos is very dangerous. It will unlock limitless power. And if it falls into the wrong hands, many lives will be lost.”

  Kallias scowled and held up the Stone. “It’s just a rock.”

  “No,” Erastos argued. “It is the key to either the destruction or salvation of humanity. You must keep it safe until the night that the Eklektos awakens.”

  Kallias grabbed the strange priest’s hand and shoved the Stone into his hand. “Take your stupid rock. And see a physician because you are insane.”

  “You are choosing the more painful route,” Erastos warned.

  Kallias rolled his eyes and turned toward Phoebe. “I don’t understand anything he is saying. Let’s just leave before he wastes even more of our time.”

  “Wait,” she whispered. “I think you should take the Stone, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” Kallias asked. “In case I meet another crazy person that happens to call herself the Eklektos? Yeah, I think I will pass. Let’s just go.”

  “He said that the Stone is powerful,” Phoebe hissed. “Just take it.”

  “The Stone can’t be powerful, Phoebe. It’s a stone,” Kallias muttered.

  Phoebe sighed and turned her gaze toward Erastos. “Could I take it, instead? I will put it somewhere safe inside his home. I am his fiancée.”

  “I know who you are, Phoebe of Corinth,” Erastos told her, his strange, pale blue eyes assessing her coldly. “I know more about you than Kallias does.”

  Kallias scowled at him. “What are you? Some kind of stalker?”

  “No. I do not obtain information in that way,” Erastos answered.

  Phoebe shifted nervously. “So, do you want me to take it to his home?”

  Erastos shifted his cold, emotionless gaze toward Kallias. “I would advise against that. It would be best if it remained in your hands alone, Kallias.”

  “I’m not taking your stupid rock,” Kallias insisted. “I am leaving.”

  Erastos shrugged and walked toward them. He placed the Stone of the Eklektos in Phoebe’s hand. “Although I know that it is pointless to tell you this, I must warn you that the consequences will be tragic if the Stone of the Eklektos does not remain in Kallias’s possession,” he told Phoebe, causing her to squirm nervously as she wondered if the strange priest somehow knew about Theron.

  Kallias narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you threatening her?” he snarled.

  Erastos turned toward him. “I am merely warning her. Before you leave, I should remind you that the route you are choosing will bring you suffering.”

  “And I should remind you that you are insane,” Kallias muttered.

  “When the time has come, we will meet again, Kallias,” Erastos said.

  “I sure as hell hope not,” Kallias muttered under his breath as he turned to leave the temple. He held his hand out to Phoebe. “Come on. We should go.”

  She nodded and took his hand, clutching the Stone of the Eklektos in the other. But before they left, she spun back toward Erastos one last time and called out, “One more
question. What is so important about the Eklektos?”

  The strange priest stared at her, his lips tilting upward. “She will either save the world or destroy it,” he stated. “But without her, humanity is doomed.”

  17

  Kindness and Murder

  Kallias awoke with two questions on his mind: Why the hell was I dreaming about that stupid stone? And why the hell am I aroused? He groaned tiredly and shifted to stretch, only to realize that there was someone on top of him. Only then did he begin to realize that he could feel her soft curves against his skin, warming him, teasing him. He glanced down to find Rose curled against his side with her arm wrapped around his abdomen and her long legs entangled with his. Her red hair fanned over her face, hiding it from his gaze, but he knew that she was asleep because of the sound of her steady breathing and slowed heart rate. Her bare feet, which he felt against his ankle, felt colder than the rest of her body. He could feel her soft, full lips against his skin, and her breasts squashed against his waist.

  “Oh. Well, that explains it,” Kallias muttered under his breath.

  He noticed that, at some point during the day, while they slept, he had draped his arm casually around her shoulder, and his hand rested comfortably against her back. He stared at her for a while, stunned by the realization that he’d actually slept like this. The last woman that he’d allowed to sleep beside him like this, to cuddle with him like this, had been Phoebe, twenty-five hundred years ago.

  Kallias shifted his legs, absentmindedly trailing his finger up her spine.

  He had only been acting on impulse and hadn’t expected a response from her. But at the sensation of his finger trailing along her spine, she moaned sleepily, and her back arched ever so slightly, which pressed the warm, soft center between her legs against his thigh. His eyes widened. “Damn it, woman,” he groaned, more than a little affected by the feel of her body and that sexy sound she’d made.

  He scowled at the sleeping seductress, blaming her entirely for this. She made a soft murmuring sound in response and snuggled closer to him. He ran his fingers through her soft, auburn waves as he stared at her small hand splayed across his bare abdomen, her fair skin contrasting starkly with his tawny skin.

  Kallias shook her shoulder. “Wake up, Rose. We have to get ready.”

  Rose groaned softly in protest, shifting against him again.

  “Baby, wake up,” he murmured in her ear.

  Her eyes opened, and she blinked slowly as she tried to see in the dark room. As the sleepy fogginess of her mind began to clear, she gradually became aware of his body against her. She patted his stomach, frowning in confusion.

  “Uh…Kallias?” she asked nervously.

  She could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice as he replied, “Yes?”

  Rose remained completely frozen. “Can you turn on the lamp?”

  Kallias stretched his arm out and flipped the switch to turn on the lamp.

  The light burned her eyes at first, but as her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that she was lying against Kallias, intimately snuggled up to his long, muscular body. She jumped up so fast that her head spun, and she immediately hung her head in her hands and groaned. When the dizziness eased, she decided to stare at one of the paintings on the wall, rather than face him. Unfortunately, Rose felt him sit up behind her, his bare chest brushing against her back, his hand braced on the other side of hers. She heard his low, honeyed laugh in her ear.

  His breath tickled her ear as he leaned into her. “What was that you said last night about wanting me to keep my hands to myself?” he teased in her ear.

  Her blush deepened. At this point, her cheeks felt so hot that Rose briefly pondered the possibility that she might spontaneously combust. She directed her murderous glare at a poor, innocent painting on the wall because glaring at Kallias would require looking at him, and she was far too embarrassed to face that cocky smirk of his. “It was an accident. I clearly thought you were my pillow.”

  He laughed. “You curl up around your pillow like that?”

  She placed her fingers against her cheeks to make sure her face wasn’t actually on fire yet. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” she snapped. She turned around and narrowed her eyes at him. “Will you please just forget this ever happened?”

  A slow, seductive smirk spread across his face. “Not a chance.”

  Rose growled in frustration and hopped off of the bed, nearly tripping over her actual pillow, which she’d apparently dropped in the floor at some point while they slept. She stormed over to the table and began to sift through her bags, which were scattered across the table. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Rose saw Kallias crawl off of the bed after her, and she trained her eyes on the table in an effort to avoid looking at his nearly nude body. She could feel his heated gaze on her as he ambled near. She swallowed uneasily as he closed in beside her, his chest brushing her shoulder.

  He leaned in close and murmured in her ear, “Has anyone ever told you that you make these really sexy sounds while you’re sleeping?”

  She blushed. She looked at him, careful to keep her gaze above his waist. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most irritating person on the planet?”

  He just continued to stare at her with that amused smirk. “Just you.”

  Rose stared blankly at him. “You’re still not wearing pants.”

  “I’m aware,” he said, as if there were nothing unusual about his half-nude state.

  She gave him her most disapproving scowl. “Do you have no shame?”

  He just shrugged. “I’m from Ancient Greece.”

  She frowned. “Touché,” she admitted. She gathered her clothes into her arms and stepped around him. She didn’t look at him again until she reached the bathroom door. “I’m getting dressed, and I’d appreciate it if you did the same.”

  He grinned. “I’ll think about it.”

  Rose flipped on the bathroom light and stepped inside. She shivered as her bare feet touched the cold tile floor. She walked past the toilet and the shower, stopping in front of the full-length mirror that hung on the wall beside the large bathtub. She blinked at her reflection in the mirror and ran a hand uselessly through her disheveled, auburn waves. She tossed her clothing on the side of the bathtub as she began to undress. As she undressed, she tried not to think about the fact that she’d slept better in Kallias’s arms than she had slept in months. She tried not to think about how comfortable and natural it had felt to curl up against him. And most importantly, she tried not to think about what all of that meant.

  Rose froze with her pajama shirt halfway off, hanging around her arms, as she noticed the reddish-purple bruises on her shoulders and arms. She could almost see Theron’s handprints on her skin. She sighed and dropped the shirt. She ignored her reflection as she pulled on her new clothes. She glanced at her reflection a second time as she brushed her teeth, grimacing at the way her jeans clung to her and the way the black T-shirt looked too loose everywhere, except for her breasts. After spitting out her toothpaste, she brushed her fingers through her hair again before deciding that it didn’t even matter and leaving the bathroom.

  When she stepped out of the bathroom, she found Kallias lounging lazily across one side of the sofa, already dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black button-down shirt that he’d left halfway unbuttoned. He flipped through the channels on the television as he tilted up a beer bottle and downed half of it.

  Rose sat down beside him. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”

  “I didn’t realized humans considered 8:30 P.M. early,” he commented.

  She scowled. “You just woke up. Your 8:30 P.M. is like our 5 or 6 A.M.”

  “Yeah,” he said. He held out the beer bottle. “Do you want some?”

  She glanced at the half-empty beer bottle. “No, thanks. I don’t drink.”

  Kallias looked at her, then, for the first time since she had left the
bathroom. His lips twitched into an amused smile. “You don’t break the law. You don’t drink. And you don’t use profanity. What do you do for fun?” he teased.

  She blushed. “There are plenty of fun things to do that don’t involve criminal activity, intoxication, profanity, or sex,” she muttered indignantly.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Rose, I…uh… I never said anything about sex.”

  Her eyes widened, and she suddenly clasped her hand over her mouth. “Oh. Oh, goodness,” she mumbled behind her hand. “That’s not what I meant.”

  His lips twitched. “What is not what you meant?”

  “That I’m a virgin. I’m not. I mean, I am, but that’s not what I meant. That’s the opposite of what I meant,” she answered in a rush, her face redder than he’d ever seen it. “Not the opposite of virgin, but the opposite of saying it.”

  For several moments, Kallias just sat there, staring blankly at her with a tight-lipped smile, as if he were desperately trying to hold back laughter.

  “Did I just tell you that I’m a virgin?” Rose asked, paling in horror.

  Kallias nodded slowly, his lips twitching upward. “More than once.”

  Rose whimpered and buried her face in the corner of the of the sofa, underneath the cheesy, heart-shaped throw pillows. As if the excruciating humiliation wasn’t bad enough, Kallias finally lost control and burst into laughter. She lifted her head and spun toward him, her eyes narrowing. “It’s not funny.”

  “You’re right,” he snorted as he continued to laugh. “It’s hilarious.”

  “You’re a jerk,” she snarled at him as she jumped to her feet.

  Kallias suddenly stopped laughing, his brows furrowing as he noticed her storming toward the door. “Rose,” he called worriedly. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from you,” she snarled as she pulled open the door.

  Rose gasped as the door suddenly slammed shut. Her back pressed against the door, her body trapped between the door and Kallias. His hands pressed against the door, one hand braced on each side of her head. Rose looked up at him, expecting to find anger in his eyes, but instead, he just looked confused.