by Lizzy Ford
Wrong person, right message. It disgusted me that Lantos used my connection with Adonis to manipulate us both. No part of me believed the timing of Adonis’ departure was coincidence. Did he just happen to leave on the same day Lantos betrayed him?
No, Lantos would never risk Adonis being around when he yanked the rug out from under my feet and served me up to Cleon on a silver platter.
Re-reading the short note, my anger fizzled. I had never been as confused or as wildly euphoric about anyone or anything as I was about Adonis. I didn’t know how deep this connection ran, or what to say or think around him, but I never felt like my world was spinning out of control when the grotesque prince was close. How was it possible to yearn for someone I barely knew, who had probably murdered more people than Cleon and Lantos combined?
What right did I have to judge him, when I had over three thousand lives on my soul? My thoughts about him were as complicated as his personality.
Come home, Adonis, I willed him without any hope he could hear me, thanks also to Lantos, who had blocked the bond I shared with the grotesque prince.
I tucked the letter into my pocket and gazed at Cecelia for a moment, deep in thought.
Lantos was right. I needed allies, and the two men I trusted most in the world were lost to me at the moment. I had wandered onto a reality board game and was competing against people who had not only mastered the rules, but also spent years positioning their pieces. And I was supposed to … what? Win, when I didn’t understand what game I was playing? The kind of person who could help me was the kind of person I innately knew better than to trust, because he had been in this game for far too long.
I did need help. During moments like this, someone like Lantos made sense, and that spooked me even more. Life would be easier if people with unsavory intentions wore black masks instead of parading around disguised as normal people.
Cleon’s grip on me was growing tighter, and I was no closer to harnessing my magic. As much as I adored Cecelia, she preached restraint rather than understanding. I didn’t think I needed to fear my power to control it. Maybe I did need to meet with Lantos in private and discuss a few things, as much as I didn’t want to.
And … if he had another letter from Adonis … was I justifying sitting down with one of my enemies, because I hoped Adonis said more in his second letter than his first?
Pain shot through my temple, and I gasped.
Come. Now. Cleon’s voice in my head was louder than Cecelia’s. He prefaced anything he had to say with a flash of pain, applied through the mind control device he’d had fused to my brain. It linked us mentally, a combination of technology and the magic of the god, Dolos, who blessed the chip in my brain.
“I have to go,” I said reluctantly. “I’m keeping the letter.”
Lantos didn’t protest.
I went to the elevator on the other side of the chamber and rode it to the surface. Dread filled me as it did each time I dealt with Cleon. I couldn’t predict what he wanted until I showed up and heard the latest installment of his crazy plan to use my magic to keep the political elite of the world in line. The soothing scents of the chamber beneath ground dissipated by the time the elevator door opened to reveal the armed escort Cleon had assigned me at all times.
Joining them, I was led out of the tiny building guarding the underground chamber and into a warm, balmy day. It had rained last night, and the puddles in the mall and sidewalk reflected the blue sky.
Whenever Cleon summoned me, I was only ever taken to one place. Familiar with the path, I allowed my focus to shift to the ribbons hovering above everything and everyone around me. My power as an Oracle – once I was able to access it fully – was the ability to manipulate … well, everything. Matter, time, the fabric of the universe. It was too much for me to understand, too beyond my imagination and everything I’d ever learned about myself and my life.
Until the current Oracle was dead, I could only access a fraction of the magic belonging to the gods. But I, too, felt the swell of power growing. It had started as a trickle I could only feel when I was absolutely still and quiet. Now, it flowed through me and around me, connecting me with the natural magic of my world.
To add to my impossible situation, whatever I did with my power, Cleon felt. I was in a lose-lose situation. I needed my power to get rid of the man whose consciousness was tethered to mine, but he felt when I tried to manipulate our connection and either sent his lackey to tranquilize me or pushed the pain button until I passed out.
Aside from Cecelia, who was too weak to help, I had no real allies. At least, none who were powerful enough to help me leave this place, though I had begun to believe it was going to take a god or goddess to fix what had been done to me.
Or maybe Adonis. The grotesque prince had a mind for strategy and manipulation I never would, and he was bound to me, too. Combined, we would either become the world’s most effective mass murdering team, or we would barely survive Cleon. I didn’t know which would emerge from our partnership, but I wanted the chance to witness it.
I was led into the House, the building reserved for the Supreme Magistrate. My escort didn’t turn down the hall I expected them to, and I pulled myself from my thoughts warily. We went to the second floor lined with private offices rather than the public spaces on the first floor.
Two guards stood outside one closed door. My escorts stopped and stood aside for me to approach. I didn’t bother knocking. I’d been summoned, and I did my best to ignore any sense of social protocol I thought might please Cleon. It was one of my limited methods of rebelling against his absolute control over my life.
The politician sat at a large desk of dark woods in front of a window. The drapes and carpets were heavy and darkly hued while the walls of the office glowed a pale yellow.
“You rang?” I asked, striding into the room.
“I would appreciate it if you knocked,” he replied without looking up from the papers on his desk.
“I know.”
He glanced up at me then back. Lowering the papers, he leaned into the plush leather back of his chair. “There’s no need to be unpleasant, Alessandra,” Cleon lectured me. “Why not make the best of your situation?”
“My situation. You mean being enslaved by someone who melded my mind to his against my will?”
Cleon released a controlled sigh. “And behaving like a child makes it better somehow?”
I had been warned by many people not to push him too far, but none of them were dropped to their knees in pain a few times a day by the man before me. If I were reckless, it was because I was afraid of someone who knew no limitations on how far he would go, and because I didn’t know how else to react when my life and my mind were no longer exclusively mine.
“We’re getting stronger,” he said at my silence. “We’ll soon be at full strength, I believe.”
“Nowhere close, according to Cecilia,” I replied. I hated how he used we when he was a leech piggybacking off my power. “She says I have a long ways to go.”
“Maybe you should try harder.”
Did he know I purposely didn’t push myself? It was hard to guess what knowledge Cleon possessed and what he hid. “What’s the rush?” I replied. “You already have control of the protected zone and the armies.”
“Neither of those things seem capable of quelling the insurgency growing beneath our noses,” he replied. “The sooner I can stop fighting them, the sooner I can execute my plan.”
I had never asked what exactly his plan entailed after learning he was interested in world domination. Cleon was driven by power and control, to a point he didn’t seem to care if he murdered everyone in the process of ascending to the unchallenged position of emperor of the worlds.
Fortunately, for the time being, the insurgency was safe. As long as the Silent Queen and Theodocia stayed a step ahead of Cleon – and consequently safe from my ability to destroy – I wouldn’t worry about Theodocia being dragged into one of the chambers downstairs an
d subjected to whatever torture Cleon ordered.
“The insurgency is my problem,” Cleon continued. “I summoned you here for another reason. Tonight, we’re meeting with the Ambassador to Greece.”
“I’ll wear my best dress,” I snapped.
“I’ve already instructed your servants what you’ll wear.”
“Great. Is that it?”
“I intend for there to be a demonstration tonight. Something different.”
I waited, uncertain what exactly that meant. Normally, he had me destroy something or bring inanimate objects to life and then destroy them as a means of showing his important guests that he controlled me, and I had the powers of a goddess.
He was gazing at something on his desk. Assuming he was done with me, I started to turn, then froze. A sensation like a subtle nudge shifted the pulsing magic inside me enough for me to notice.
The stapler on his desk hopped. My eyes went to it, and I frowned. The one ribbon that was distinctly mine – a green one – had joined the other two ribbons possessed by inanimate objects. My magic brought it to life, but I hadn’t ordered it alive.
“I’m growing stronger alongside you,” Cleon said, pleased.
“You did that?” I asked, startled.
“I did. And I can do this, too.” He held out his hand and made a fist. Another tug of my power, and the stapler crumpled in on itself, crushed.
How is this possible? My heart began to beat faster. Power in my hands was relatively safe, since I feared using it and hurting someone. Unlimited power in Cleon’s hands?
“I’ll be able to wield enough of your power soon to repair the protected zone and extend its reach. You’d be surprised what world leaders and the wealthy will pay for the privilege of owning a private protected zone,” Cleon said and lowered his hand.
“Don’t you have enough money?”
“Money is a side benefit. I want to make the world a safer place, and plan to use your power to do so.”
Cleon’s vision was never what he claimed it was. He wanted to rule, and he wanted absolute power. He hid these motivations behind pretty words I no longer believed.
“Now you may go.”
I stayed where I was, staring at the stapler, seeking some visible sign he had manipulated it before I arrived. The green ribbon remained, and I automatically reached out for it, not wanting the stapler to be in pain, since it was technically alive the moment my magic touched it.
Absorbing the green ribbon, I turned away.
My concern deepened at the newfound question circling my thoughts. How could he access my magic? To my knowledge, not even Adonis had been able to do this.
Cecelia might know how this was possible and the extent of Cleon’s ability. Closing the door to Cleon’s office behind me, I began walking, when one of my escorts spoke.
“Time for your two o’clock.”
“Not today,” I replied.
“The Supreme Magistrate’s orders.”
I stiffened and bit back my retort, instead deciding I’d rather attend my afternoon session with Niko than be tranquilized and locked in my bedroom until it was time for the event this evening.
Armed escorts led me from the House and into the bright sunlight. I released a breath, my mind racing with wild speculations about what Cleon intended to do this evening during his demonstration. Crushing office supplies in front of the elite seemed beneath him, but I didn’t understand the depths of his capabilities anymore than I did mine.
Maybe that’s the problem, I thought. Maybe by denying my power, I was setting myself back in the hope I could prevent what was coming, while Cleon was spending hours a day devoted to trying to use my power. But didn’t growing my abilities mean he, too, potentially had access to more weapons to use against innocent people?
Pensive, I barely noticed the long walk across the compound at the heart of DC until we reached the gym where Niko and I trained daily.
My escorts left me at the door to the gym, and I walked in alone. The sight of the muscular, tattooed mercenary-turned-army commander left me in a less pleasant mood. He stood in the center of a boxing ring where we sparred daily. Since Cleon dictated my daily exercise, I naturally resisted. But the truth was more complicated. I liked physical activity. I needed the release after my angst-filled days, even if I were forced to deal with Niko, who selectively didn’t pull his punches, instead of my sweet Herakles.
Not that I would ever give Cleon the credit for forcing me to do something I enjoyed.
“Drop the attitude,” Niko snapped. “You know I make it worse for you when you walk in here with one.”
He did. Always. If there was one thing about Niko I could always depend upon, it was his uncanny ability to read people – especially me. I hadn’t even looked at him yet, and he knew I was pissy.
“I’m not having a good day,” I told him.
“I don’t care.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. After my brief interactions with Lantos and Cleon, I didn’t feel up to having my ass kicked, but maybe that was what I needed to help calm my mind. I stripped down to my sports bra then tugged off my shoes and socks and pulled my hair up into a bun.
Climbing into the ring, I studied him. The solid man was bare-chested and already sweating, a sign he’d been lifting weights up until my appointed arrival at two. Normally, I looked forward to sparring with him, even if he was much rougher than Adonis and Herakles. Niko was easier to understand than Cleon, Lantos, and everyone else currently parked in my life. The former mercenary possessed absolutely no sense of honor. He cheated when we sparred. If he had to choose between saving my life and his, he’d probably put a bullet in me to save himself the trouble of deciding.
Knowing what he was, and where I stood with him, somehow made him easier to tolerate. He was at least predictable with no hidden agenda.
“You know I’m the most powerful person in the world, right?” I asked.
“I know you’re supposed to be,” he replied with a snort.
“And you still won’t help me escape from Cleon.”
“Kid, when you’re the most powerful person in the world, I’ll do whatever you want me to. Until then, I’ll side with the man who’s in charge.”
“You think I’d keep you around at that point, if you refuse to help me get there?”
“Hands up.”
I lifted them and lowered my stance. We began circling one another.
“You know what I can and will do for you, and you know my price,” he replied.
The reminder we were both here for reasons beyond ourselves put me on even footing with the one person I should probably never, ever, ever, trust, because he would sell me out for a penny more than I offered him in a heartbeat. Except I knew his secret. He wasn’t operating out of an interest in money and hadn’t been in quite a while. Tommy, Niko’s son with Theodocia, was the reason he obeyed Cleon without question. I couldn’t offer to protect Tommy, which was how the person who was supposed to be the most powerful woman in the world became completely worthless to Niko.
He lashed out at me first. I blocked. His second strike went through my defenses and sent me sprawling on my back. I lay still, the breath knocked out of me. Several seconds later, I sucked in air then coughed and sat.
“You should’ve caught that one,” Niko said, unconcerned. “You’re distracted.”
I was. Around anyone else, I didn’t have to worry. But the farther away my mind was, the harder I could expect Niko to hit. He’d broken ribs once and left me bruised and in tears of pain on more than one occasion.
He was grinning, which pissed me off more.
Rolling my shoulders back, I settled my gaze on him. “I’m ready.”
“Fighting isn’t supposed to be pretty or easy,” he reminded me. “You don’t have Herakles’ size or Adonis’ speed.”
“They’re both more disciplined than you are.”
“True, but I fight dirty, and that’s what you need to learn if you’re going to take on men
like us.” This time, when he attacked, he pierced my defenses and smacked me across the cheek hard enough to jar me out of my senses.
Catching myself against the ropes, I spun, anger flaring to life inside me. My cheek burned from the strike.
“There we go. That’s what we need,” Niko said. “Now you’re ready.” He waved me forward, inviting me to attack.
I didn’t know why he pushed me the way he did, but I didn’t care.
I attacked him with everything I had.
We sparred for over an hour, until I was panting too hard to move, and Niko was satisfied with what he called progress, which was the name he gave to undoing the training I’d already been taught. Herakles had done everything with honor, even fighting, whereas Niko did nothing with honor, especially not fighting. His philosophy was to win at any cost.
“You’re probably not going to survive Cleon, but at least you’ll be a little harder to take down,” Niko said.
Asshole. Doubled over, I struggled to catch my breath.
“And the answer is no about meeting Lantos,” he added. “I’m not even going to tell Cleon the request came in.”
Niko threw me a towel then draped one over his neck.
I straightened. On the surface, Cleon was in control of my life. But Niko was the one managing me day-to-day and reporting my activities to Cleon. I didn’t want to meet with Lantos, but I didn’t want anyone else telling me what to do with every minute of my life either.
“Lantos already knows I don’t want to see him,” I said when I’d caught my breath.
“He’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Queen is gone. There’s only one man capable of competing with Cleon for power left in DC.”
“You think Cleon will expel him?” I asked, genuinely curious at the insight.
“If he’s smart, he’ll take a more permanent approach and not let Lantos escape like he did the Queen,” Niko answered. “We’ve almost completed consolidating SISA into my army, and the gods aren’t doing shit for us now. There won’t be a need for a Supreme Priest, once Cleon is satisfied.”