by A. J. Menden
“Yes,” I replied. “And both the cult and Dylan tried to kill me, so there’s not much to be thankful for.”
“Dylan may have been a bit . . . overenthusiastic,” she amended. “He wanted to impress me, you see. He wanted to prove he was worthy of being the consort of a god, which meant getting much more power than he needed to free the Dragon.”
“That’s what I don’t get,” I said. “That’s what’s got me so confused about this whole mess. Dylan wanted to impress you and become a god. Okay. The Dragon wants to be released from bondage, from his banishment to the DarkLands.”
Mneme shrugged and smiled in agreement.
“But what do you get?” I asked. “You had to use your gifts to inspire both of those men to do what you want. But what is it that you want? You never do anything unless it benefits you in some way. How in the world is letting the Dragon out going to benefit you?”
“He’ll let the Brethren out again, and that will restore him to his former glory.”
“The Brethren?” Cyrus looked at me. “Does she mean the Ancient Ones?”
“Ah, yes, ‘the Ancient Ones,’ the mortals called them, back when they knew the truth. We gods called them Titans.” Her eyes looked more than a bit fanatical. “They were brothers of pure magic, never mortal-born, not god-born . . . something else entirely.” She glanced at me. “Being in the presence of his brothers will restore what I stole from him for my family. I took away the glory and majesty that rightfully belong to him, and I helped the gods bend and twist it into something else. Something they could benefit from.”
My heart sped up. “Him? Who are you talking about?”
She smiled angelically. “Your father, of course.”
Horror stole my breath away. I stood there stunned, my poor brain stalled out as it tried to comprehend her meaning. But she was crazy. Surely she didn’t suggest . . . “No.”
She continued to smile.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. “It’s not true. This is one of your little fantasies.”
“You should have seen his true form,” she continued in a creepy, wistful voice. “He was almost painful to look upon. A mortal brain couldn’t comprehend such a shape, which is why Titans were so feared. Mortals called them demons, but they were not. They were something else entirely, beings of pure magic. Nothing was their equal.”
She sounded enthralled. Like a groupie worshipfully touting the grandness of a band or singer, or like a cultist. Very much like a cultist.
“When they decided that they would rule this world, there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. My father, his brothers and sisters stood up, but they were outmatched. They joined together with the magic-user mortals of the world, but still nothing could stop the Titans. How could our magic be of any use against those made entirely up of it?” She laughed shrilly. “But that’s when one of the Brethren decided his brothers were corrupt.”
I closed my eyes. “Oh, God.”
“He joined forces with the mortals, with my father and his siblings to push the Titans out of this world. He locked them up in another dimension so they couldn’t escape. It wasn’t easy, and it drained much of his power, but he risked it all for the people of this world.”
“Sounds like him,” Cyrus muttered. “I guess the Old One was always a Goody Two-shoes.”
I shot him a look.
Mneme continued, her voice harsh. “So, how did my father and his siblings repay yours? They turned on him, of course. Attacked him and beat him down. They couldn’t take on all of the Titans, but one, alone and wounded, they could. They were frightened of the power that he wielded, that he would turn on them. And they wanted to be the ones with the power. They drained off his magic, taking it and creating . . . all of this.” She gestured around us. “Olympus. A place where they go to rejuvenate and bask in power that is not their own.”
I groaned, shaking my head. The gods as a whole were known for their selfish behavior, but this took the cake. And yet, I didn’t put it past them. I’d always thought that Kate and some of the others were doing the hero thing as a way to bring better reputation to the family, but maybe it was more because they were tired of being ignored by humanity for millennia and the heroes were getting all the fame and adulation. This was the closest they could come to being worshipped nowadays.
My mother continued. “But you can’t kill a Titan, no matter what you do. He just kept coming back. Each reincarnation, the gods feared more and more that he would want revenge for what they stole and for how they’d repaid his kindness. They wanted him to forget. So they came to me.”
“The Muse of remembrance,” Cyrus said.
“My father had me cast a hex on your father to make him forget everything: what he was, who we were, everything. I didn’t want to, but my father can be very persuasive when he wants.” A ghost of a bad memory seemed to dance in her haunted eyes. “And it worked; he forgot. He thought he was an ordinary mortal, a magic-user, and we let him think that. We sent him back to your dimension. We gods decided to live in this stolen paradise, created from the very power they stripped from him. Everything was going all right.”
“Marvelous,” I muttered.
“Then there was . . . an incident. It was in ancient Greece. A group of worshippers, much like this Cult of the Dragon now, was intent on bringing back the Titans. In order to do so, they corrupted an entire town. Your father joined forces with a group of mortals to stop them, and they succeeded, but the cultists came very close to victory. Their magic, their presence . . . it all began to radiate out of the cultists’ dimension trap. Being so close to his brothers again caused the enchantment to waver on your father. For one brief moment, he was himself again. And he was glorious. Terrifying.” She smiled as if remembering the best day of her life. “When he was done, the rift between this dimension and that of the Titans was closed, but the town and all his mortal allies were destroyed. By your father.”
I noticed my mouth was hanging open. Quickly, I shut it.
“My father was fearful again. Zeus, the great father of the gods, was quaking in his sandals at the thought of what an enraged Titan might do.” She smirked at the thought. “So he came to me again, and he asked me to go to Earth and pretend to be mortal in order to set the hex straight again.”
“You didn’t have to get this close,” I grumbled.
“Ah, but then you wouldn’t be here, darling,” she pointed out. “What can I say? I was charmed by him. All of that power walking around in its little human shell, not even aware of its backstory.” She shivered. “He was delicious. I was so charmed that I decided to stay. The most powerful being in the world was in awe of me, because I showed him I was a goddess and he thought he was just a lucky little mortal. And then I had you.”
“You make me sick,” I whispered.
“Everything was wonderful for a while. But then he had to go and die.” She frowned. “He forgot everything. My hex was still working,” she grumbled, “and it affected more than I wanted. He had no idea who I was or who you were.”
“It wasn’t any fun anymore, being saddled with a kid and a mortal-seeming husband who didn’t worship the ground you walked on,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “So you bailed.”
“My father noticed,” she replied. “He wasn’t too thrilled about your existence.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve kind of seen how the other gods hate me or pretend I don’t exist. They never send me birthday cards.”
She gave a wry chuckle. “That’s because they fear you, dear heart. You’re the daughter of a goddess and a Titan. You’re extremely powerful. You can make universes bend to your will, like that one with your seedy little bar.” Her eyes glittered dangerously. “If you can do that, think of what you might do to them.”
I shook my head, unable to process all of the information. “So, if Dad’s really as scary as you say, why would you want him to remember everything?” I asked, barely believing the words coming out of my mouth. “Won’t he just destroy the gods and probably the en
tire world?”
“He might,” she said. “But he also might not. He might be persuaded just to rule it all—with me by his side. Your father and I . . . Well, we had something.”
I stared for a moment without comprehension, then laughed. “Oh, my God. You have got to be kidding me.”
She frowned. “What?”
“You’re doing all of this to try to get Dad back?” I laughed again. “Mom, he is so over you. It’s been thousands of years. He has Lainey now.”
She frowned. “I don’t give a damn about his mortal women; he’s been with multitudes over the centuries. This one’s no different from the rest.”
I shook my head. “Um, yeah, Mom. This one is.”
“He’s had many mortal wives and many mortal children. They all fall to dust. Only you and I are different. We’re never-ending, like him.”
“He gave Lainey a piece of his soul,” I said softly. “He’s never done that for any of his other mortal wives. He even eventually remembered his past with her. That’s never happened before. It means something. I think it’s true love.”
Her face darkened. “I’m the only one worthy of him!” I half expected her to stamp her foot, like Emily does when she’s throwing a temper tantrum.
“He loves Lainey and Emily,” I repeated.
“Don’t you dare bring her up,” she spat. “It’ll be poetic justice if she’s the key to delivering him instead of the Dragon.”
I fought off another laugh. “Even if Emily does somehow bring the Titans back, even if they do lift your hex and he goes back to being whatever scary thing he was before, he’s still going to prefer them to you. He’s not going to want you back. Ever.” I was deliberately taunting her now, but I didn’t care. Of all her harebrained schemes, this one took the cake.
Cyrus edged toward me. “Is pissing off your crazy mother a good idea?”
“The best,” I said.
“I’m doing all this to restore him to what he should be,” Mneme snarled, her voice rising. “When he finds out all I’ve done he’ll be grateful.”
“Your family turned against him after he helped you. They beat him down and then stole his power. For all of this.” I motioned around us at all the glitz. “They profited from his downfall. Then, as the final straw, you took away his memory. You tricked him into thinking he’s mortal, that you’re something he should worship, and then, when he was at his weakest, you left and never looked back until now. All Lainey’s ever done is stand by him, even when times were tough. Gee, if I was known as one of the wisest beings in the universe, I know who I’d choose. I also know who’d be the target of my revenge.”
She glared at me. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
“No, we won’t. Because the Titans aren’t getting out. We’re going to stop the Dragon. We’re going to throw him into the DarkLands again, and Dad’s never going to know about this.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” She smiled maliciously.
“What do you mean?”
“The Dragon’s getting close to letting the Titans out. Their power’s radiating through into this world again. The last time that happened, it was a sight to see.” She shivered beatifically. “My hex’s wearing down already. I can feel it. It may not take the Titans’ return to snap your father out of his shell and back into what he was. All it might take is for me to walk up and whisper the truth in his ear.”
I glared at her. “Well, you won’t.”
“You think not? You’re sadly mistaken, my dear.”
I shook my head. “You’re not going to do it.”
“Oh, darling, do you really think you can stop me?” She patted me on the head. “Because, child of a Titan or not, you just gave up part of your power to your lover. Before, you might have been able to stop me. Now . . . ?” She shrugged. “Now you’re just another goddess. And I’m quite a lot older—and more powerful.”
“I know,” I said simply. “I know I can’t stop you.”
“That’s right, you can’t,” Mneme crowed.
“So that’s why I told on you to Granddad.”
She stared at me as if not comprehending. “What?”
“Aphrodite’s telling Zeus you’re trying to let the Titans out. She’s probably doing so right now, and I wanted to keep you busy while she relayed the whole story. I’ll bet he’s not too pleased about it.”
My mother’s face went white.
“No, he isn’t,” said a great booming voice.
We all turned to see a powerfully built man with snow-white hair, a chiseled body and an air of frightening power. It was Zeus, father of the gods, my grandfather. He stood flanked by several of his guards and most potent warrior-gods.
“Mneme,” his voice boomed out. “You have wreaked havoc not only in the mortal world but on our plane as well. You are going to pay for that. For a long while.”
She dropped her head like a chastised child. “But, Father—”
“And now I’ve got to clean up the mess you’ve made.” He turned to Kate and motioned to his followers. “Take them back with you to the battle. Put a stop to this ‘Dragon.’ Should you need me, just call.”
Kate nodded. “Yes, Father.”
Zeus eyed me. “You cannot be here, my child. It is too dangerous.”
I frowned. “Thanks so much. Good to feel welcome. Like always.”
He sighed and amended, “Dangerous for us. Because of what you are. Especially with him here.” He motioned to Cyrus. “Since you gave him a part of your soul, and therefore a part of your power . . . The two of you together, well . . . your power could unmake the very fabric of our reality.”
“Yes,” Mneme breathed, almost orgasmically. Zeus shot her a warning look and she quieted.
“I’m not saying what we did was right,” Zeus said to me. “But I’m afraid we’ve gone too far to turn back.”
“Isn’t that always the story,” I growled. Taking Cyrus’s hand, I hefted my sword. “We’re going back to the battlefront. We’re needed there—and wanted.” Looking directly at my mother, whom Zeus had by the arm now and was leading away, I said, “Don’t let her out of your sight.”
My grandfather shook his head. “I won’t.”
“You do, and I will come back. And maybe next time I’ll bring my dad.”
My mother beamed. “Please do!”
I shot her a glare. “I’ll make good on my promise, Mom. Next time I see you . . .”
She looked unintimidated. “I’ll be waiting.”
Zeus fixed me with his eyes. “He can never know the truth, your father. There’s a chance that even hearing about this could undo your mother’s magic. If that happens . . .”
“Terrible things. I know,” I said.
“If he seems to be unraveling,” Zeus warned, “if he starts to gain more power, or if he starts remembering things he shouldn’t . . . please come to me, Granddaughter. My brothers and sisters and I may be the only ones who stand a chance of stopping him before he destroys everything.”
“So, you want me to bring him back to the ones who essentially murdered him?” I growled. “You, who haven’t exactly been kind or generous to me in these past thousands of years, though you’ve known who I am? Yeah, no thanks. Whatever happens, I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of him.”
Zeus frowned. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“No, you don’t know what you’re dealing with,” I countered. “Look, I don’t know what happened between all of you, but I do know this: he’s my father. I also know how he’s acted every day I’ve been alive. He may not have remembered me personally, but he’s never shown anything but compassion and goodness—an overdeveloped protectiveness, if you ask me—for the people of this world. He’s not the kind of man who gains power and suddenly goes off the deep end. He knew his brothers were evil, which is why he joined with you in the first place. He’s one of the world’s protectors, not its destroyer, and I stand with him.”
“And maybe you don’t know him
at all,” Zeus said as I turned to leave, Cyrus in tow. “Maybe that’s just the facade with which we cursed him. Maybe that’s all he thinks he is. You never really know another person; you only know what they show you. Let’s pray you’re not wrong.” And with that, he turned and walked off, leading my mother. She followed behind, never once looking back. I hadn’t expected her to.
Cyrus faced me. “If I ever questioned why you have so many issues, that’s all cleared up. But if it helps, I’m here for you.”
I squared my shoulders, letting all the family drama fall away and getting back into the proper mindset for battle. “It helps tremendously. Now, let’s go kick some ass.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The old saying “You can’t win them all” is very accurate. Sure, I managed to stop Dylan. I managed to send my mother into a long-lasting time-out with a little help from my grandfather; and the Elite Hands of Justice, along with a little help from Kate and some of her brothers and sisters, sent the Cult of the Dragon packing before Cyrus and I even arrived. Enough of them were now either dead or in jail that it was going to take a long while for them to become a factor again. But the Dragon himself was still on the loose.
He’d managed to evade the Elite Hands of Justice when the battle didn’t go as planned; or, more specifically, he evaded Wesley and the combined power of the gods. He must have picked up a few new tricks during his time in the DarkLands, because he suddenly was able to cloak himself better than ever. No one could track him after he disappeared. He’d clearly vowed to live to fight another day, and was still lurking in the background, a fuse to the powder keg that was Emily and the prophecy of her possibly setting free the Ancient Ones, which had all sorts of new meaning for me now.
When I finally saw him coming off the battlefield, Wesley looked ready to collapse. It was so strange seeing him now, after all I’d learned; it was like I was looking at a different person yet again.
“Thank God you’re all right,” he said, surprising the hell out of me with a hug. I was momentarily shocked but then gave him a tight squeeze in return.