The War Within (Curse of the Gods Book 1)

by Danielle James

  The War Within

  Curse of the Gods

  by Danielle James

  Copyright 2016

  ©Danielle James

  The following is a work of fiction. Any reference to any real person, place, or thing is coincidental and is not intended as an endorsement or advertisement in any way.

  This story is intended for mature audiences. It contains explicit language, sex, and adult situations. If you are easily offended, consider yourself warned.

  Thank you, always, to my readers. Without you, my books are just words on a page.

  A very special thank you to Karen Taylor for helping me with a few New York things in this book. I am exceptionally grateful for your help and your ideas.

  Thank you to Tara Dawn for doing a bang up editing job for me!

  And last, but not least, thank you to Jessica for pimping me out like the book whore I am!

  Prologue

  Many eons ago, the Creator, the one true God, created all that is. He created the universe, the stars, and the planets. He created the plants and water on those worlds. He created realms and different planes of existence. Yet, there was something missing. That was when He created life forms. Not only did He create humans, but Fae, shifters, elves, gnomes, sprites, nymphs and many, many more. He gifted some of these beings with special magic that would ensure that every species lived in harmony and that this world, this entity that He created, would survive.

  Knowing that this thing He had created would need constant love and attention, He created beings to assist Him. Lesser gods and goddesses to watch over His wondrous creation. He gifted them as well with the power to influence things such as love, fertility, war, and peace. He loved these gods and goddesses so much, that He gifted them with their most prized possession. Free will.

  For a time, everything worked in complete melodiousness; everyone did their jobs, and all living things were exultant.

  But that was not to remain.

  The gods and goddesses became different over time. The entities that resided on the sky mountain, Olympus, in particular changed. They had become selfish, petty, and cruel. Some interfered in the lives of humans for their own entertainment and not for the greater good. This was not what they had been created to be, and their actions and self-importance became so atrocious that the Creator knew He had to do something. Unwilling to destroy his beloved, albeit misguided, gods and goddesses, He imprisoned them all with a curse, each unique to the deity that it confined. The curses were meant to be broken, of course, but only when the cursed learned the lesson the Creator intended …

  ***

  The trip down the side of Mount Olympus was physically taxing and more annoying than it should have been. There had been a time when Ares could have just willed himself off the mountain and went wherever he pleased. That was before. Now, he had to hike down the side of the damned thing and hope no one saw him. It was time. Ares had spent far too long helplessly listening to the ramblings of his parents and siblings. Their self-importance was over-inflated, and if he had to listen to one more of Zeus’s stories of how fucking fabulous the Olympian God was, Ares was going to have to cut off his own arm and shove it in his ears to mute the bastard.

  He stepped carefully over a prickly bush that threatened to cover the path. No one had bothered coming this way in more years than he could remember. They were all stuck on that sky mountain, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Well, Ares was sick of it. He had always been a take charge and get-it-the-fuck-done kind of man, and there was no time like the present to act.

  As he neared the foot of the mountain, the cloud cover got thicker, but he could see the mouth of the cave that would lead him to freedom. It was covered over with tall grass and limbs, but it was there. Ares pulled his sword from its sheath and held it at the ready as he approached. The brush was no match for his sharp blade and the entrance was open in no time. Ares walked on silent feet, thankful that he had fashioned new sandals before this trip.

  As the cave descended, a false sense of safety surrounded the God of War, but he knew better. The cavern took a sharp turn to the left and he was met with six brightly glowing yellow eyes.

  “Hello, Fluffy,” he said with a grin to the three-headed dragon. “It is time that you and I have it out.”

  The dragon reared its heads back and roared, recognizing Ares immediately. As its massive heads descended, fire raced from its mouths. Ares held his shield up, blocking the deadly flames from his body.

  “Ha, old girl, you’re gonna have to do better than that!” he shouted as he darted out of the line of fire.

  The dragon stomped with her foot, narrowly missing Ares. He ran to the left, taking cover behind a large stone, when Fluffy tried to fry him again. He played the dodge and miss game with her several times before getting serious.

  The exit was just on the other side of this cavern. All Ares had to do was get past the dragon. He made his move and Fluffy dropped her massive claw in front of him. Her claw raked the side of his face and Ares plunged his sword down, piercing her foot, then yanked it out again. He jumped over the injured limb and ran full force toward the exit with blood pouring down his face.

  The dragon wailed and the cavern filled with fire. Ares could feel the heat on the back of his neck, but he kept running. He had no desire to kill the dragon, only to be free. As he ran through the exit, the dragon’s paw landed so close to his backside that he thought his ass might have been scraped. Two more steps, and Ares was falling.

  Falling to Earth and falling to freedom.

  ***

  Athena had followed her brother off the mountain and stood watch in the shadows as he sparred with the dragon. He could have beaten the beast any time he wished, and, yet, he did not. It was very much in Ares’ character to indulge in an unnecessary fight. That was his downfall on many occasions. He allowed too much, instead of setting a goal and going straight to it. As the pair were fighting, Athena saw the opportunity to slink past them and through the exit of the cave. She didn’t know if Ares would be free of Olympus, and she didn’t care. But she was going through that exit, one way or another. She wondered to herself why she hadn’t thought of it before, working together. As a goddess of war and strategy herself, Athena should have seen the opportunity. Whereas Ares was all brute force, she was the strategist. Perhaps she had been blinded by the curse she carried as did the other gods of Olympus. She decided that it did not matter as she fell through the sky to the Earth.

  Chapter One

  He pulled his hoodie down further, covering more of his face as he pushed his way through the busy streets of New York City. His shoulder brushed that of another man, causing the man to turn.

  “Hey, watch it!” he shouted at yet another man, one who was completely innocent, and shaking his fist.

  “You should watch your attitude,” the other man shouted back.

  As the pair got into a heated argument, Ares smiled to himself and continued walking down the sidewalk. It was the little pleasures in life he so looked forward to every day. Hell, it was all he had to look forward to. Ever since that fucking curse was put into place by the Big Man, Ares had limited use of his powers.

  That was a good one, that curse. God seemed to think that the Olympians were getting too big on themselves and decided to put a stop to it. Maybe he was right. He probably was. The curse trapped all of the Olympic Gods to Mount Olympus for all of eternity, or until they learned their lesson. Ares had spent centuries trying to figure out a way to get himself off Olympus and back to Earth where he could reign free to incite all the war and mayhem he wanted.

  In the end, he had to fight his way out against Fluffy, the
dragon guarding the entrance to the human realm. Who named that motherfucker anyway? It was like a giant named Tiny. Fluffy was no regular dragon, though. She was eighty feet of teeth and scales, three heads, and three mouths of a fire-breathing nightmare. Ares was only able to get past her because he was essentially born without fear and, as the God of War, he knew a thing or two about battle. He did not escape unscathed, either. The long scar that ran down the side of his once handsome face would be a constant reminder of his folly. Had he truly been victorious, he would not have that blemish and dear old Fluffy would be dead. A little voice in the back of his mind told him that even if he had the opportunity, he would not have slain the dragon beast. He liked her. Respected her.

  That was fifty years ago, and it still burned his ass each and every time he looked in a mirror.

  Even that did not compare to the ire he felt when he finally arrived on Earth. Dressed in his best battle armor, Ares made his presence known to the humans and demanded that they bow down to worship him as they well should. Instead, they laughed at him. Asked him where he got the great cosplay costume and made reference to Halloween, and how it was not for another four months. At the time, Ares did not know nor did he care what Halloween was. He was so irritated with the humans’ lack of respect, he set to unleash his powers upon them, to make them pay penance for their crime. That was when he discovered that his powers were severely lacking in this new Earth. Not only did Ares not have the power to call about an all-consuming need for bloodshed, but he could barely force the humans to be angry. In a fit of frustration, Ares punched the nearest human and that began a fight. The humans were many, though, and he was only one, without proper power, he might add. The fight landed him in yet another prison. This one was guarded by humans and Ares managed to free himself in no time.

  It took many years to hone his greatly diminished powers enough to cause rioting.

  He had freed himself from one hell only to be violently shoved into another. At least, here on Earth, Ares did not have to live with the constant disapproval of Zeus and Hera. His parents hated him. That was no secret, but before the curse he could escape them. And Aphrodite! She was always chasing after him, constantly in need of someone to service her sexual needs. Ares discovered that many humans thought him to be married to her, but truth be told, he didn’t even like her. She was a means to an end and he was finally free of that as well. He was so free of it, that he didn’t feel the urge to have sex anymore.

  All because of that damned curse.

  The war within will rage and churn, a life for that you will yearn, a battle that you cannot win, a selfless soul to save your sin.

  What the fuck did that even mean? Ares scoffed at a battle he could not win. There were very few battles that forced the god to admit defeat. The Trojan War had been a big fiasco. If Athena had just kept her nose in her own business … If the humans had only listened to him … No, he thought, shoving the painful memory to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t think of that now. Now, he had a life to live, pitiful as it was, and he was going to live it. Humans had changed so much over the centuries. They were pretty fucking good at starting their own wars, which left Ares feeling somewhat useless.

  A passerby accidentally bumped into him and Ares growled at him, causing the man to hold up his hands in apology and move to the other side of the crowded walk. Another man caught his attention, this one pulling a woman along with him, his hand curled around her upper arm much tighter than necessary. Ares knew the sort. As he passed them, Ares touched the back of the woman’s other arm. She sucked in a breath and yanked her arm away from her captor. She raised her knee and delivered a powerful shot to the abuser’s groin. Ares chuckled to himself while cringing at the same time. He may not be using his dick right that minute, but he still felt the phantom pain from the other man. Of course, the other man deserved it. Ares detested those who would treat females badly.

  As he passed in front of a church, Ares could feel the eyes of the gargoyle on the roof watching his every move. He looked high into the midday sky and made eye contact with the stone creature. Judgment and hate looked back at him.

  “What?” he shouted at it as if it were going to reply. But of course, it did not. Self-righteous bastards. He never understood why gargoyles thought themselves to be so high and mighty. They were stone! Stone that could move, but still.

  The sun was out and gargoyles remained stone while the rays touched their bodies. Who was that stone fuck to judge him? He was the fucking God of War. Ares pressed his lips together hard and set out to find something more interesting to do. Perhaps start a riot? A mass shooting? He didn’t know what kind of trouble he was going to cause, only that he was going to cause it.

  Chapter Two

  Emma rolled over in her bed and pushed her hair out of her face. She knew it was daytime by the sheer amount of light that was coming in the window. Peeling her eyelids back, she dared a glance at her clock. It was only noon. She grumbled and pulled the covers back up over her head, but it was too late. She was awake. With a heavy sigh, she threw the blankets back and sat up. The motion set off a twinge in her lower belly that signaled her period would be coming. Of course it was. Soon, it would transform from a slight twinge to all out pain and agony. The pain Emma felt each and every month for the past year was more than physical. It was mental. A constant reminder of what she didn’t have. Subconsciously, she moved her hand to hold her belly. Her empty belly.

  Had it really been a year? Yes, it had. A full year had gone by while she was mourning the loss of the baby who wasn’t strong enough to hold on to life. A year since she failed the most basic test of motherhood. Memories flooded her mind and heart without her consent.

  She had been twenty-two weeks pregnant and engaged to the most wonderful man alive. On the day she was scheduled for an ultrasound to find out the baby’s sex, her life changed forever. Instead of being told that they would be having a healthy baby girl, Emma was told that her baby had died in her womb. Two days later, Emma was forced to go through labor to bring a dead child into the world. She remembered how the little one had all her fingers and toes, everything exactly where it should have been. Everything except a heartbeat.

  The strain had been too much for her fiancé and their relationship ended. The doctors suggested that Emma try again immediately to become pregnant, but there was no way she could. How could she risk failing another child? How could she go through that again? She couldn’t, and each and every month she was given a bloody, painful reminder of that day.

  She was no stranger to depression and Emma knew it. She had withdrawn from life, from family, from friends. She had even sworn off men. Hell, she had sworn off society as a whole. She was moody on her best day, a snarling beast on her worst. Thank goodness she worked from home. Emma owned an online store and she did data entry for a local attorney’s office which allowed her to make her own hours and not have to deal with the general public.

  She pushed herself off her bed and padded into the kitchen on bare feet. She pulled the coffee pot out, filled it with water, and then realized that she was out of coffee. Completely unacceptable. Emma wrinkled her nose as she realized that she was going to have to appear somewhat human and go out to get some.

  “Uh,” she groaned aloud. “Just kill me now.”

  After a quick inspection of the rest of the kitchen, Emma shoved herself into a pair of pants, pulled her hair into a ponytail, put her sneakers on, and went to the store. She only had to walk a few blocks to the nearest grocery, which was one of the things she liked about her apartment. Location. She was at 110th and Central Park West, close to everything. She wasted no time grabbing a small basket and putting the few items she needed in it. Then she went straight to the checkout line.

  Just as she was getting ready to set her basket on the conveyor, a man jumped in line in front of her. “Hey!” she barked at him. “Back of the line, Buddy.”

  The man turned around to face her and her breath stuck in her chest. He ha
d eyes that were nearly black, a square chin, straight nose, and a long scar down the side of his cheek. He had about a day’s worth of stubble on his face and lips that promised all kinds of sinful things. He was at least six and a half feet tall, towering over her, and shoulders that he could rest a building on. She couldn’t see his hair because it was covered by the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing, but she could see the glare he was throwing her way. He looked dangerous.

  “Excuse me?” he growled at her, leaning forward slightly.

  Emma knew she should be afraid of this man, but she wasn’t. He was standing between her and her coffee.

  “I said, back of the line,” she reminded the gorgeous, rude as hell stranger, accentuating each word as if he were lacking in the brains department. “Now get the hell outta my face.”

  “I don’t think so,” he told her, before turning back to the twelve pack of sodas he was buying.

  Emma looked him over with a scrutinizing eye. Men like him thought the world owed them something. Yes, he was attractive. Yes, his shoulders were so wide they likely wouldn’t fit through her front door. Yes, he would probably kill her. Did that dissuade Emma in the least? No. She had lost her sense of self-preservation long ago and on this day, for whatever reason, she felt like picking a fight. She picked up her basket and walked around him, forcing her way in front of him in the line. She heard him chuckle, but refused to look at him. Instead, she kept her head held high and her eyes on the register.

  The jackass circled around her. “Oh no you didn’t,” she growled at him under her breath.

  “I did,” he countered.

  “No,” Emma said, pushing his sodas back on the counter.

  The man was getting irritated. He yanked off his hood and glared at her. “Do you have any idea who I am?” he demanded.

  “A rude son of a bitch,” she replied.

  She finally got a good look at him. All that handsome was framed by curly brown hair that just kissed the back of his neck. There were small braids on the sides like he thought he was some damned Viking warrior or something. Stupid pretty boy thought he could bully her. Not today.