by Lizzy Ford
Theta
Book Two
Omega Series
By Lizzy Ford
www.LizzyFord.com
Smashwords Edition
Published by Captured Press
www.CapturedPress.com
Theta copyright ©2016 by Lizzy Ford
www.LizzyFord.com
Cover Design ©2016 by Eden Crane Design
Cover Photograph ©2016 by K Keeton Designs
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
Chapter One: Alessandra
Two months later
If I were still enough, and concentrated hard, I could feel the cool forest breeze tickle the back of my neck and breathe in the scent of trees and wet earth after a summer storm. Patches of sunlight warmed my skin, while the vibrant green canopy of leaves overhead prevented the full heat of the sun from reaching me. Nature possessed a rhythm, a gentle pulse of energy, I first experienced when I left the boundaries of my forest home. The gentle ebb and flow of the world rocked through me, teasing my own internal rhythm, until we were synced and swaying together in a peaceful, timeless dance.
The magic of the natural world reached me here, in the heart of Washington DC. It surpassed the towering walls and thick barricades established by the military, penetrated kilometers of cement and manmade structures, and traveled unnoticed by and through millions of people to join me underground in a dance only the two of us could share.
This peace, this dance … it was wrong. I didn’t deserve its attempt to comfort me, not after I’d twisted the gentle thrum inside me into a weapon of incredible power that had claimed the innocent lives of thousands.
You’re becoming so much stronger. A female voice said into my mind.
My eyes opened. Seated cross-legged in the dark cavern belonging to the Oracle of Delphi, I was swaying from side to side with the rhythm of the world. The scent of sulfur and other exotic spices transformed my mind into an open state less burdened by the life I lived outside this cavern.
“That’s not a good thing,” I whispered in response, studying Cecelia, the current Oracle of Delphi.
My passing is inevitable. You will need your strength to harness absolute power, but you must subdue the full emergence of your power a little longer, until you can handle it. The mark on your arm is a warning to you and me.
I touched the birthmark self-consciously. It resembled a double omega, and those around me believed it represented my ability to annihilate the world. “Nothing like absolute power when I can’t control my own mind,” I said sarcastically. “I’m trying not to become stronger until Cleon is out of my head.”
You are so much stronger than I was when I experienced my first vision. If you haven’t glimpsed the future yet, then we are on the right path to keep your power in check. We cannot unleash the waters behind the dam all at once, or you will finish off what the gods started five years ago. Be patient and cautious.
“You sound like Herakles,” I replied. “If I don’t find a way to get rid of the parasite in my head, my destiny won’t matter. Cleon is standing between where I am and where I should be.”
You assume he’s not supposed to be there.
“Why would he … ah. Because life sucks and is hard.”
Something like that. He is in your life for a reason. Sometimes we don’t know why some events occur until long after they happen. Perhaps his presence forces you to restrain power that might otherwise be too much to control. Cecelia’s amusement was transmitted telepathically and through the brightening of the lights around her enclosure.
“Maybe,” I said, not liking the idea. “Have you figured out how I get him out of my life, or what happens if I don’t detach him before my power fully manifests?” For now, we were protected from the inevitable, because I didn’t complete the third trial required for an Oracle to assume her full power. The Silent Queen had challenged me to murder the Oracle. I wasn’t about to murder the person who had the key to helping me not accidentally end the world!
If only I had my full power again. I might be able to pinpoint the correct sequence. The Oracle grew serious again. If I die soon, you will have the power you need, without the control to use it. If the parasite dies first, part of you may be lost as well, and you will not have the power you need to survive.
“Then you can’t die until we know the right sequence,” I told her firmly. If a woman who saw the future didn’t know what to do, how was I supposed to figure it out?
I swallowed hard and touched the scar at the back of my head. Whatever the Supreme Magistrate did to my brain connected us on a level that could destroy us both if severed carelessly. Without me, humanity would never be safe. No one else could send the gods back to their domain – permanently.
Over the past few weeks, the Oracle had warned me repeatedly against outright killing Cleon and helped me learn to control my power so it didn’t grow until we had a feasible option for expelling him from my mind.
This was not the first time I had heard the truth, but it was never easier to acknowledge how bad my situation really was. Did Cleon understand what he was doing, when he connected our minds? How did I fight someone in my head?
“The good news is he can’t kill me either,” I said with some vindication.
There is no good news for those born into our position.
It didn’t take a dismembered woman trapped in a bubble to remind me of the curse it was to be born with the power of a goddess.
“There has to be a way,” I said, unwilling to admit defeat. “I’m not giving up yet. We will find the best sequence of events, or maybe, I’ll wake up with my full power before he knows it’s there and snap this connection. I’m not going down without doing what I was born to! I will crush the gods for what they did to us.”
I applaud your eagerness, but tread carefully. You have three thousand, two hundred and ninety four reasons not to use your power. The more you use it, the greater it grows, and the more danger you pose to humanity.
Her harsh reminder snuffed the fire behind my anger immediately. I slumped. I didn’t intend to add to my body count. I had been diligently following her lessons on how to restrain my power, in case Cleon tried to force me to use it again. If I played dumb, and acted as if my power wasn’t cooperating, I would hopefully continue to prevent him from hurting others. I didn’t want anyone else’s death on my conscious.
Although, at this point, I often thought it was too late to save my soul. Was there a limit to how many people someone could kill, before redemption was no longer an option? Had I crossed that line already?
What exactly was redemption? Forgiveness from those I had hurt or from the outside world? Or was it my own acceptance of my actions and self-forgiveness? Or was it dedication to committing more good than bad in the world? And if so, how was that remotely possible, given what I’d already done?
These were the kinds of questions I used to discuss with Herakles, my longtime guardian and protector, the man who murdered my family, kidnapped me, and hid me from men like Cleon for twelve years. He was the very incarnation of a man who strove for redemption.
I forgave him, because he didn’t know what he was doing when he hurt my parents
. His mind had been controlled and erased by the very man who was using my power to destroy. If I were capable of loving Herakles despite what he did, would everyone else one day decide the good I’d committed in the world weighed heavier on the scales of justice than the bad?
How much good would it take to make up for ending so many lives? Did the possibility of redemption even matter, when I would never forgive myself or the man who forced my hand?
As much as I wanted to find a happy ending in Herakles’ life story, I was also reminded of his scars whenever I thought of him. He had purposely burned and slashed his face until it was unrecognizable. He did it out of shame for becoming a monster and a tool of the Supreme Magistrate. I loved him despite his involvement in the deaths of my parents, and he had raised me with gentleness and fairness.
But he was a tortured soul and would probably be one until his death. Was that the fate of everyone who craved redemption?
This topic, and the subject of what good could possibly come from my purpose and my life, left me thoroughly confused. Herakles was gone from my world, and so was his earthy logic. I was left alone to grapple with the knowledge of what I had become and to stumble through the maze the Fates had created for me.
On days such as this, revenge seemed a more fitting use of my power and frustrated anger. I could destroy Cleon, even if that meant I died with him, and left the fate of the world in the hands of Cecelia. Except … she wasn’t strong enough to stop the gods from finishing off humanity.
Alessandra, I don’t know if I can outlast Cleon’s influence on you, or if I could survive long enough to make a difference, if you did take down Cleon now, Cecelia said, reading my thoughts. Her desperation crossed our telepathic link.
Fear trickled through me. “You have to. You’ve been protecting DC from the gods and helping me learn about my powers. Without you, no one will survive the gods’ wrath.”
DC will need a new protector when I’m gone. You can’t become this protector with Cleon working against you.
“That settles it. You can’t die.”
There might be a way to help me. Would you consider it, if so?
“Anything,” I breathed.
It’s a transfer of power, similar to a blood transfusion, but performed telepathically. You’ll need to touch me, though, so we can connect. I would siphon off enough of your power to help me survive long enough for us to understand what needs to happen.
I was on my feet before she finished and went to the control panel at the side of her bubble. “Okay. How do I lower your glass bubble shield thing?”
It’s simple. You -
“You’ve been ignoring me,” interjected a soft, male voice.
I tensed. Even the effects of the Oracle catnip – the scents of the chamber – were unable to soften my anger towards the individual intruding upon my quiet time with Cecelia. “Then why don’t you take the hint and leave me alone?” I snapped. My eyes went to the Oracle. “Why do you let him in here?”
“I move through shadows. She has no dominion over me there,” Lantos, the Supreme Priest and member of the Sacred Triumvirate, replied with amusement. He was a man of great persistence and power, the gods’ representative to humanity, and universally distrusted after he betrayed the two people closest to him. “It’s one of the very few benefits of being the son of a Titan.”
I hated Cleon – the Supreme Magistrate – for what he forced me to do. But with Lantos, my anger burned brighter, not because of his actions towards me, but because he callously betrayed someone I cared about to the depths of my soul. It hurt worse that I noticed the absence of Mismatch-Adonis every time I saw Lantos.
“I’m in the middle of something,” I told him and returned to the screen before me. This wasn’t the first time Lantos had interrupted an important discussion with Cecelia, and I suspected it wouldn’t be the last, unless I did whatever it was he wanted me to.
“You need an ally like me, Alessandra,” said Lantos. “I have powerful friends who have been trying to talk to you.”
“By friends, you mean enemies you tricked into trusting you. The gods are my enemies, too, Lantos, except I don’t try to pretend to be something I’m not!”
“Does it matter where I stand, when you have no one else offering to help you? You can’t survive this world alone, Alessandra. You know this.”
It sounded too trite, too much like a lecture from someone who thought he was doing me a favor, for me to ignore. Twisting in place, I glared at him. He was smart enough to keep his distance. As the head of SISA, the religious police, Lantos controlled a security force the size of an army. But right now, not one of his men stood between us to protect him, if I decided I was through with him.
“I don’t want you as an ally,” I replied with calmness I didn’t feel. “You’ve already proven you suck at it.”
He was too much of a politician to read. His smile appeared genuine, but how could it be? He drew nearer, green eyes bright in his handsome face. He appeared refreshed and upbeat, as if he never spent one second of his day questioning his decisions, no matter whom he hurt.
I resented him – and was also envious. I could think of nothing else but whether or not I could ever balance my own scales, and here he stood – cheerfully oblivious to the pain he inflicted upon those around him.
My anger was powerful enough for tears to prick my eyes. He wasn’t worth crying over. I turned away, preferring the vision of Cecelia in pieces to Lantos.
“I might have a way to convince you to reconsider,” Lantos said.
“There’s nothing you can say that would make me give you the time of day!” I retorted.
“I received a letter from Adonis. It’s for you.”
Just like that, my inner world shifted from bubbling rage to soaring hope.
“Do you want to read it?” Lantos asked, as if he didn’t know Adonis was tethered to me in a way no human or god could break.
Your name is seared into my soul. I will always return to you. I replayed Adonis’ parting words in my mind at least ten times a day, and a dozen more times every night when I awoke from the nightmares of the monster I was becoming. My reaction to Adonis was as wildly uncontrollable as my reaction to Lantos – except on the exact opposite end of the scale.
My task at the screen of the control panel was trumped by the possibility of learning something about my Mismatch after two months of nothing. I approached Lantos, searching his face for some sign he was toying with me.
He held out a letter with another of his smiles.
I reached for it.
He snatched it back.
The hair on the back of my neck rose as my power coalesced in the space around me, reacting to my emotions.
So much stronger, Cecelia said.
“Yeah, she is,” Lantos agreed. “But not advancing. I wonder why.”
I shrugged off the magic and held out my hand. “Give it to me, Lantos.”
“One condition.”
I snapped my mouth closed and ground my teeth.
“You hear me out and remain open to what I say.”
If I were learning anything in DC, it was how to lie. “Fine.”
“Tonight, seven o’clock. Drinks at my place. I’ll arrange it with your escort.”
Nodding instead of hitting him was as politically correct of an act as I was capable of.
He handed me the letter.
I snatched it and started to turn away when I noticed something about the envelope. “You opened it,” I said, glaring at him.
“Of course I did.”
“It’s dated six weeks ago.”
“You wouldn’t see me,” Lantos said with a shrug. “I wasn’t going to lose my leverage by sliding it under your door. I may have something else of interest for you, if you meet me tonight.”
“What is it?” I replied suspiciously.
“The file on your parents you’ve been trying to find since you got to the compound.”
“You have it?”
&
nbsp; “I do. It’s yours, if you meet with me.”
“Why now?” I challenged. “You’ve been bugging me for weeks. Why offer up something you know I want now?”
He was looking at Cecelia. “Let’s just say I had a moment of clarity recently.”
What an asshole. He would never reveal his true agenda. Taking the letter farther from Lantos, so I had some semblance of privacy, I opened it with eager hands.
If ever there were something about Adonis that irritated me – aside from his penchant for mass murder – it was his brevity. Even when he admitted to having my named carved into his soul, he had not felt the need to expand on what exactly that meant, and I was too afraid of being wrong, or revealing too much of what I felt, to assume or ask.
Alessandra,
I hope this letter finds you well.
I have arrived to the land I once ruled. The beaches are as I remember them, four thousand years ago, and the waters are just as clear. I intend to leave here as quickly as possible, but I must first complete the mission Artemis gave me.
Yours,
Adonis
I was momentarily stuck between frustration he chose to write at all, when he said nothing of value, and awe he’d signed it yours. As in, he was really mine, and he experienced the same feelings towards me as I did him?
Or was it simply the closing he had chosen out of the dozen customary closings available?
At eighteen, lacking all experience with the opposite sex, I had no idea how to interpret the short note, except it made my stomach twist and heart flutter knowing I was holding something Adonis had touched.
“That’s it?” I growled at the letter.
“With men, it’s more about the action than the words. He values you enough to send you a letter. His lack of poetry or substance is somewhat appalling, but it’s also a sign he chose to write despite not knowing what to say,” Lantos explained. “He cares for you. But you know that.”